#i dunno if i’m making any sense but it kinda makes my heart hurt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

estrellami-1 · 11 months

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I got a challenge for you with the writing prompts 👀 use 16, 17 AND 18 together. (Steddie, obviously)

16. "Excuse you?"

17. "This is all your fault!"

18. "I shouldn't be in love with you."

You’re choice on who says what 😌 (also doesn’t have to end happy, but we do love our angst w/happy endings)

Ooh I love this!!! I hope you didn’t necessarily mean in order, because, well… you’ll see. 😉

Dustin’s face is red. There are tears streaking down his face. Steve’s heart breaks as he reaches for Dustin and gets pushed away.

“This is all your fault!” Dustin screams, and Steve feels his fractured heart break irreparably.

“What?” He whispers, unable to believe he had heard correctly.

“It’s your fault!” Dustin insists, still crying. “If you hadn’t said what you did, Eddie would still be alive!”

Somehow, Steve’s heart breaks more. “Dustin-”

“No!” Dustin yells, pushing Steve away once more. “Just- just leave me alone!” He turns away, and no amount of pleading makes him turn back.

Steve leaves. Doesn’t know where he’s going until he’s at the cemetery, sitting in front of Eddie’s headstone. His body isn’t here; it’s still in the Upside Down somewhere. Steve will never forgive himself for that. He thinks, distantly, that he’s numb, in shock.

A dull laugh tears its way out of his throat. “He said it’s my fault,” he says. “Dustin, that is.” His throat clicks when he tries to swallow. “Said if I hadn’t said what I did, you’d still be alive. I hope- God, I hope that isn’t true. I don’t know what I’d do if it is. And I know he’s just looking for someone to blame, he’s grieving, I get that, but… it hurt. Y’know? Cause I thought we were past all that… that bullshit. Of thinking I’m still King Steve. Of thinking I’m not good enough, no matter what I do. Of thinking it’s not tearing me apart.” He shakes his head. Vaguely realizes he’s crying. “I just… God, I feel so stupid saying this, but… if there’s any way… just. Give me some sort of sign. Let me move on, at least. Let me be strong for everyone else still grieving you.”

He waits a few minutes, not terribly hopeful, but waxing more disappointed as the time passes. “I’m, uh. I’m choosing to believe there’s nothing you can do, instead of thinking you can’t hear me or something. I’m gonna come back, I swear. I dunno about the kids, but I know you love- um. You loved them. And you’d want to know how they’re doing. So I’ll at least tell you about them.”

Another minute passes as he wrestles his emotions under control, wiping the last errant tears from his eyes. “Same time next week?” He asks, imagining Eddie would grin and wink at him, say something like, “As long as you’re paying!”

With that thought, Steve stands and leaves.

He’s back next week. Says, as soon as he sits down, “Dustin’s not mad at me anymore, so that’s something. I think Claudia probably talked some sense into him. He’s just kinda… listless, now. Will too. I think, uh. I think he was hoping to talk to you. I dunno…” he sighs, tries to organize his thoughts. “I’m safe. That’s first of all. So if you are… it’s fine. Robin showed me a zine she brought back from a trip to Indy. Apparently the handkerchief means something. I didn’t know that until, like, three days ago. And it’s not that Will’s gonna start putting a hanky in one of his back pockets, but… I’ve seen the way he looks at Mike, y’know? And I wish I could help but I’ve got no experience with guys. Robin would be willing, but…” he chuckles. “She’s strictly into boobies. Which is kind of an inside joke, for us. Y’know she came out to me in a Starcourt bathroom while we were high off our asses with Russian truth serum? That’s one of the apocalypses we helped avert. Well, the Russians themselves weren’t the apocalypse. There was… well. It’s a whole thing. Billy Hargrove, remember him? He got mind-controlled. I hit him with a car because he was gonna kill Nance and them. He was fine, it wasn’t really him, y’know? Then he sacrificed himself. I’ve seen Max cry twice in the time that I’ve known her. She didn’t even cry when she sprained her ankle trying to land a flip. But she cried then. God, she was inconsolable. And he sacrificed himself for her. I think, for a while, she wished it had been her, instead of him.” He sighs, stands, smiles wanly at Eddie’s name. “Edmund, huh?”

He imagines Eddie’s smirk. “No relation to the Pevensies,” he’d say with a wink and a bow, “though I, too, came out of a closet.”

So it goes, week after week, month after month. The days get shorter and colder, then longer and warmer.

“Will came to me a few days ago,” he whispers one spring day. “Scared outta his mind. But he did it, and he was so brave, and I told him what I could.” He manages a smirk. “And it turns out we’re not too different after all. I’ve been… thinking, recently. And talking to Robin, and man, that was a trip. Turns out the normal, straight amount of flirting with the guys is zero. I don’t think I’m the only one to blame, though, because thinking back on it, Tommy got really close sometimes, before we fell out, and Billy had that whole… thing going on, which I honestly figured was just California bully, but it turns out no, they probably weren’t straight either. Which. That took me a few days to digest. So I’ve been thinking about it and I think I just… never let myself like guys? But I definitely like both. I just always went with girls ‘cause that’s what was expected, y’know? So that was a lot to process. It’s still a lot to process, honestly. But I’m getting there? Or I think I am. I at least had something to tell Will, so. There’s that.” He chuckles. “Y’know you’re the third person I told? Will was second. Robin was first, though she kinda told me, instead of the other way around. Sometimes I dunno what I’d do without her. Most times, actually, I dunno what I’d do without her.”

He thinks about Eddie’s grin, the tilt of his jaw. “Welcome to the club.” He’d probably bow. It feels like something he’d bow about. “We have nothing for you because America is a capitalist pigsty and we are all naught but its pawns.”

Steve leaves.

The weeks pass. He returns faithfully, like clockwork.

“It’s been a year,” he whispers one day. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to make it. You were supposed to run, goddammit, why didn’t you run?” He bends in half as the tears come, burying his face in his knees. “Damn you,” he hisses. “This is all your fault, y’know that? I don’t even know how, but I’m in love with a dead man. Do you hear me, Eddie Munson? A dead man! I shouldn’t be in love with you!” He sobs for a few minutes, then forces himself upright. “And the worst part is I’m not even mad at you. Not really. I just- God, why can’t you be here? Why didn’t you run?”

Footsteps behind him. He stiffens, but doesn’t move until he hears the voice, vaguely amused. “Excuse you,” he says, and Steve whips around to find Eddie Munson staring back at him. “I did run. Or I tried. Those fuckers are fast, man.”

“Oh,” Steve whispers, drying his tears. “Great. Now I’m hallucinating.”

Hallucination-Eddie kneels beside him, wipes tears from Steve’s cheeks. “Could a hallucination touch you?” He whispers.

Steve stares for a minute before the dam breaks and he’s falling into Eddie, sobbing. “I know,” Eddie murmurs. “I know. I’m so sorry. If it’s any consolation, I definitely did die. I just… didn’t stay dead.” He runs a hand over Steve’s back. “And if it’s any consolation, I was able to hear every one-sided conversation. I appreciate the updates on the kids. And, uh.” He swallows. “I’m pretty sure somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you, too.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme

#hope this is angst enough for you #honestly?#I hope you cry #that means I did my job right #stranger things #eventual steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #dustin henderson #briefly #writing prompts #prompt 16 #prompt 17 #prompt 18 #this was a lot of fun!!!#thank you friend ❤️#starambles

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sweet-coffee-milk-tea · 2 years

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So I only recently watch stranger things with my family, mom dad and younger sister during the last season (she had already watched the first three)

We binged it all in about a month.

And my family are really heteronormative.

Not in a bad way, they are pretty accepting to lgbt rights, although still learning things but I’m easing them in bit by bit.

Anyways they see things in a these two girls, these two boys are really good friends type of light normally don’t see the subtext.

I wasn’t part of the fandom until after watching it, so I only knew about pairings in passing (Steddie, and byler) and my family aren’t the type to get into fandoms.

I say all this because this is my random theories for Byler more than likely becoming canon.

My dad, since season 1, when Mileven went to the snow ball, and when they were making out on Els bed in season was weirded out by their relationship.

Not in the shipping manner but because he felt that they gave off more brother sister vibes, eventually just accepted it as it is what it is (yet never complains about any other couple?)

He watches hallmark movies to the point he notices all the little quirks and zing couples have and that they are on the same set in several movies. I don’t know if he knows cause he’s actually watching or he has it on in passing while he sleeps (either way it’s cute)

So I’d say he catches on to those things.

Another thing that I thought was interesting was that my whole family pegged Will having a crush on Milke since the SECOND season.

We were just talking characters after one of our episode binges and I offhandedly made the comment about Will liking Mike.

My parents usual reaction, ‘aren’t they just really close friends?’

Their reaction to the comment, full on agreement like ‘oh yeah, I can see that.’

Mike is a bit more of a hard sell.

I dunno I just feel that if people with heteronormative brains can see it the subtext is there.

But honestly for me it was the fourth season that officially put Mike on the map and made Byler a real possibility

Sure sure it could be a close friendship, I’m not denying close ass platonic friendships hurt just as bad as romantic one when they separate because they do. I’ve felt it.

But it was the painting scene that solidified it for me, that Byler would be canon season 5.

When Mike opened up the painting he had a big ass smile on his face. That remained if not dimmed a bit as it normally would when you listen and focus on peoples words (the very painting El told him Will made for a crush he had) and then Will goes and tells him that El commissioned it.

And his face fell his face scrunched and his smile didn’t come back again

As someone who got commissions and ordered commissions, that is not a reaction at all you would have. Knowing someone specifically commission something for you it something touching something that will make you happy right?

You would smile really excitedly or fondly right! I mean he was so happy knowing Will painted RIGHT. JUST SECONDS AGO! Where’s the beaming smile for El thinking about you Mike!

My opinion?

He was so fucking disappointed.

If he was disappointed it makes sense, why his smile never comes back, I mean this wasn’t the painting Will made for his crush. HE wasn’t Will’s crush. And knowing that El was behind this painting and not Will kinda sucks and that’s why he’s so confused (been weird around Will because of his confusing bi feelings, bis aren’t like a thing that’s possible to Mike).

And then Will goes on about Mikes roll to the party, he’s taking it in, but it’s not until Will starts delving into his own feelings when he goes on about being different and a mistake that it clicks.

And just like Johnathan, Mike clocks it, knows that Will is talking about himself, knows the commission thing is a lie. And can see Wills feelings in what he was saying. They’re best friends he knows that this is his heart not Els

And then he thinks oh. OH. He’s giving me up he’s pushing me to El, he’s giving me the okay. Because Mike does love El, he doesn’t know who he’s IN love with.

He’s making the decision for me I don’t have to think deeper on it.

I mean he’s crying right next to him, if he didn’t know WHY NOT ASK.

ANY SANE FRIEND WOULD WONDER WHY THEIR BEST FRIEND IS A MESS, ESPECIALLY AFTER LOOKING OVER!

You can’t HIDE that kind of reaction after seeing those misty eyes

No they spoke in code, spoke around the bush, Mike knows Wills feelings now and before he had to think about his own Will told Mike I’m ripping off the bandaid and giving you to El, that he needs him and he always will.

And Will doesn’t know about the internal bi panic otherwise I think he would have told him his feels instead of push El to him.

And then theirs the fact Mikes blurred, sure it could be to focus on Will, so the audience and Johnathan knows he’s pinning so hard for Mike.

But why not semi blur it, show him happily ogling Els “commission” oblivious too his best friend.

It’s because even through the heavy blur he still looks so sad, and we’re not supposed to be aware of it yet.

Or he’s just some straight dumbass who got in a fight with his best friend, said best friends fixes their friendship by help fixing straight’s relationship to best friend’s sister, the fuckers reconcile and he’s gonna reject Will’s explosive confession season 5 the end

[WORST ENDING]

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aceofthegreenajah · 2 years

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Sandman 6-10 liveblog

First of all, dream here is being so utterly relatable. He was hurt, he used his anger and his focus to push past it and cover it up, but now that those are gone the hurt is still there.

Secondly, feeling nothing is the worst. I’ve been depressed in a way that I felt nothing and didn’t care about anything, and I’ve been depressed in a way I felt so bad I wanted to die. I’d take the second back over the first any day of the week. Obviously someone else might choose differently but that’s my experience.

Third, that was some good acting. I kinda want to rewind and stare at his face again.

Fourth, I want to reach through the screen and hug him.

I mean he deserves some of this but don’t be too hard on him. Dreams are not usually much use for thinking, they’re for feeling and experiencing. And he is the Dream.

”I’m just feeding the birds” he’s so cute!

I’ve heard ’the prodigal’ before but I can’t think of where and how. I’m super curious tho. Dunno exactly why but I am.

”how are you my sister” ditto on the cuteness. She’s fun too don’t get me wrong. I’ve been spoiled on that she’s death and that everyone loves her and that might be making my reaction a little underwhelming.

Having something to find out after death is all I’m really asking for. Really.

He was sweet, you’re very right. And it’s good to touch the earth, you’re right on that too. Very wise.

What would happen if you missed it, tho? Would they miraculously survive whatever they were going to die of, or would they die but stay haunting the place, what?

Your wife is very pretty and I feel very bad for her.

I like her attitude. About most everything, really.

”And yet I’m far more terrible than you” yes sweetie that’s part of your charm to me.

Kind word and a friendly face certainly never hurts.

Feel very bad about the kid and the mom too.

Yes it is as natural, but it’s also… unknown, mostly out of our control, and strips us of every potential future we might have dreamed of.

Aww these two

Franklin dying in the background tho :)

I don’t get the rabbit joke

I enjoy rhyming too

I do agree with Hob tho

1500:s Dream is so unimpressed the entire time

I don’t know enough about iambic whatever to appreciate this as it deserves

Every one of Dream’s looks speaks to me in a different way

I agree with Hob so much

Well put dream (would you use your choice to take away the choice from others)

Having two different constantine roles must be fun

But she is so overconfident it hurts

Hob you’re immortal why do you care about a tiny knife

I know these two are a popular pairing but I don’t really get romantic vibes. I’m up for it tho I can hold sevral different headcanons or reads simultaneously.

Lou is fun to watch and listen to

Ow poor Lou

Oh I really like this scene. People being almost always better than you think they are, learning from your mistakes but not being able to stp making them.

Dream that is a tiny bit of an overreaction. Granted, you don’t owe him friendship, that isn’t a necessity, but you don’t need to be condencending about it.

Great music choices.

Hob has the perfect attitude about being stood up tho. He knows Dream already gave him immortality for practically nothing and doesn’t owe him anything.

See these transitions are just so good. Glass to dream in glass to reflection in glass etc. Just showing of fat this point.

Hob’s a good pal tho. Not perfect at other things but a good pal.

Oh they both look so happy. These last two I get some vibes from them but not in-love vibes just there-could-be-chemistry-they-suit-each-other vibes.

I want to give the mom the benefit of the doubt it's probably hard enough for her to leave at all but that is shitty

Is this the inside of a heart

Despair seems interesting good sense but Hook in her cheek and delighted by future pain

Rose has great hair

Awkward and sad

Lucienne you should tell him or it will go wrong. Storytelling rules.

I get the sense grief will be a dream

I love the windows

She saw them. Interesting.

Is this trip a plot by one of The rogue dreams

Rose 21 is young to me. Not a child but very young.

Oh Unity she looks lovely. Just in general but especially for 100-something

Family is exactly what she needs

These people freaky

Serial killers. Who fanboy Corinthian. Why not.

She's off doing that already

See.

Aww unity come too

That is ominous (may all our dreams come true)

I love these transitions. Honestly The whole series has such excellent transitions.

I love Hal

I love everyone in this House

The money might be the motivation tho

I just realized her name is rose did he choose the song for her? I love Hal.

Trauma incoming?

No just more lovely oddballs

Relatable (i was reading lost track of Time)

Corinthian wtf do you want the universe to explode or something

Dream or real? (Jed) real I think

Is he the shape-shifter

Is he gonna shoot her

Same or different actor I couldn't tell

I love everyone in this House

Lyta this is not helping you to heal

Good try Jed but a bit obvious

Ah Damn it Corinthian Will kill her

Someone save Jed

... Someone that is not Corinthian but I think that's what is going to happen

You I love you but you don't appreciate your found family. Not that you need to live together to Be found family.

Fucking nightmare Fuel

Oh is Every Room a different persons dream

Or Door I guess

Gault what is your motive

Morpheus looking amused is giving me life

Gault seems nice. So barnaby really was just a shitty human.

Is it Corinthian at The Door

Who is this baiting lyta IS IT actually her husband? Or is she pregnant with a nightmare of some kind now?

Gault has good ambitions I like her. She has sense.

Morpheus you're making poor choices now and I think you know that deep down now go and save Jed

Corinthian I knew it

Going to The serial killer meetup I bet I'm really not looking forward to it

Lyta If that is a nightmare baby of some kind I'm afraid for you Tho it could just Be bc Rose was there

Lyta don't. I understand but I don't like IT.

Cerial *facepalm*

These serial killers Be creepy

Oh The Kid killer what luck

Yes take Gilbert some backup is advisable

Corinthian being useful for once

Is The dream collapsing since Rose isn't there

Let's hope those aren't the famous last words

Morpheus you're hilarious and pitiful

Rose you're silly

Gilbert IS a delight

Jed I'm not sure this is a good idea

Rose I get IT but don't

Gilbert and his music and expressions are The best

Does he recognize The Corinthian????

Ah The dreaming

Fiddler's green!!! I love you!!!

Fanboy is at least good as a distraction and wakeup Call

Fun land ofc

Rose don't believe him

Rose please

He's fanboying so hard

Corinthian please what are you up to

Rose being here is The key

Good punishment

That is some Bad advice

Yes found family this shit up

Desire is a vibe and a half tho

Also dream whoa I think I just fell in love

Aww dream gault

Yeah I'm in love. Don't sen help let me die in peace.

Lucienne's smile aww

Azazel looks cool

#the sandman #netflix sandman #liveblog #reaction #sandman reaction #the sandman liveblog #the sandman episode 6 #the sandman episode 7 #the sandman episode 8 #the sandman episode 9 #the sandman episode 10

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perpetual-fool · 1 year

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Muse

(4k)

I sit in my room, on the floor by the bed. I sit frozen, guitar silently in hand, willing for some spark of insight to make some sense of things. There's a knock at the door. "Hey Ari, may I join you?" sang a sweet voice as Mara poked her head in. "I dunno, sure." I tiredly reply. "Sure, yeah, come be my muse." She plops down on the bed behind me, scoots just over the edge and lays her head on my shoulder. "How may I a-muse you this evening?" "I dunno," I say, "I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't know how any of this works." "You clearly have some idea," she says, "you seem to know a guitar is involved somehow. Can you actually play that thing? I mean, it's perfectly alright if you just like holding it, ya' know. I won't judge you. An emotional support instrument?" "I dunno, kinda?" I reply. "I'm getting past the 'every movement is awkward' phase. My callouses have built up enough to play for more than ten minutes, plucking is starting to feel natural. I can play scales but only in one spot, I can't shift around without losing track of where I am. And my intonation still isn't great. I need more practice with the tuner, but that's mentally exhausting and I just haven't had the energy lately. And.." I pause, choking up. "I keep thinking of her. Music was her whole thing. And I fucked up, ya' know? I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I couldn't.. I'm sorry, you don't want to hear about it, right? People don't like hearing about past relationships." "I want you to tell me anything you feel you need to." she says, wrapping her arms around me. I feel tension leaving my body as I hold onto her. "What would be the point?" I say. "I'm still a piece of shit. I'm still a fucking idiot." "Maybe," she says, squeezing me tighter. "But you're my idiot, and I want you to be happy." She holds me tight a moment more. "Anything specific you need to get off your chest?" I shudder as the memory comes back to me. "There was one incident, I don't remember exactly what I said. It was something along the lines of 'you never understood me', I think? And she said 'I guess you're right'". I pause as my breathing goes ragged. "And that still just tears my fucking heart out. I went too far, but I'm not sure I did, actually. I mean, I don't really remember, but the whole point of that exchange was that she just wasn't fucking getting it. I wanted to actually fucking connect and she just went from pretending to empathize to just not fucking caring. I mean, I think? That may not have been our last exchange. Which meant she probably did care? It doesn't make any fucking sense, it never did. I just wanted.." "It's okay," she whispers softly. "I guess I'm on the fence as to whether it was my fault at this point. I mean, obviously it was my fault. But I was lost, I couldn't figure out what to do, it's not fair to blame me for that. And, I wasn't lost for no reason, ya' know? She really wasn't getting it. She never did. All the way back. She didn't see how much pain I was in, she didn't see how alone I was. But maybe she could say the same about me, so maybe it is all my fucking fault." "You are an idiot," she says. "If it went both ways that doesn't make it your fault, dummy." "I guess," I reply, "but I've spent my whole life blaming myself for everything, especially things I couldn't understand. I know it doesn't make sense. It's just hard to believe anything else. It hurts." "Want me to kiss it and make it better?" "Yes please." She leans in and kisses my cheek. I flinch. "You alright?" She asks. "I don't know. Not really?" I reply. "I jusstt have bad feelings about.. everything." "You wanna talk about it?" "There's nothing to share, really. Not that I remember. It's too far back." "What, like before elementary school or something?" "Yeah, must be." I reply. "It's been there as long as I can remember. Although," I continue, "I do wonder. Is this trauma? was I traumatized?" "I'd say so," she says. "If there was a dog that flinched when you pet them, you'd say they were traumatized, right?" "I mean, I wouldn't know, kind of the point. But that would make sense." "Do you want me to not kiss you then?" she asks. "No, pplease do," I stammer. "I don't- think this will get any better on its own. I want-" She kisses my cheek again. I don't flinch so hard. "..Thank you." "Anytime" she says.

"Now," she starts, "you were doing something with that guitar, right?" "Right, where were we?" I return my attention to the instrument sitting in my lap. "..Playing it, um, yeah sorta. I can play it well enough to start making noises that sound like music." "Is that not music?" She asks. "Ughhh, I.. no. Like, technically, yes. I need a lot more structure. But like, purpose? Gimme a sec." "Sure." I take a moment to gather my thoughts. "So yes, purpose. I need to have a reason, well, for all the things. What note to start on, where to go with it, in what rhythm, how to end. And then I want to sing too, which opens up so many more issues. What part does each 'instrument' play? How do I do harmony? How do I write lyrics? Why write those lyrics?"

"Well, as your appointed muse, it is my duty to work you through all that. Hmm," she pauses. "Let's start by just going over that, from the beginning. Why would you start on a particular note?" "Context," I begin. "Notes only sound any kind of way in relation to other notes. So the root note, as it's called, determines the meaning of the rest of the notes." "So the first note decides what the rest of the notes sound like?" "Well, no, not the first note. I mean, it's sort of biased towards the first note, but it's whatever note sounds the most 'resolved', I think." I continue, "Due to how waves interact, certain groupings of notes resonate better than others. It's something about the overtone series, but I haven't studied that yet. But given a palette of notes, certain combinations will naturally want to sink to the bottom, and if you if you're trying to create an unstable configuration, you have to take care to not let the whole thing flip over." "Could you make it flip over on purpose?" "Huh, yeah that might a cool effect. Sort of like an internal struggle that shifts in meaning without anything really changing." "Do you know how to do that?" "As of yet, no. I don't know which combinations are more or less stable." "Well that would be something to work on," she says. "Do you need to know right now? or could you say, just try it, see what sounds 'resolved', and work from there?" "I guess I could just brute force it for now," I relent. "So then you just find that note and start there, right?" "Kinda. The root feels like it marks the beginning and end of a phrase, but you could also just not do that." "Why would you not?" "For effect, basically. For an ending that remains unresolved or a beginning that starts 'in medias res'. I think I'm using that phrase correctly." "That sounds like you have a pretty good grasp on things," she says, "what are unsure of?" "How to start, and when to use what. That's not phrased well. Um, I don't know whether I should start writing a phrase 'resolved' or not. And I don't know what would be appropriate for the circumstances." "Okay, well if you wanted a story to start in the middle, you'd just write from the beginning and chop the front off afterwards, right?" "Maybe? I wouldn't really know that either. You definitely could. And I presume you'd have to have at least a vague outline of things to work from." "So there you go, start from the beginning and maybe change it later." she says. "Would that work for you?" "It should. It's a start at least." I reply. "Something doesn't feel quite right about it but maybe I just don't have enough experience yet." "You're not gonna get experience unless you start somewhere." "Yeah. I'll go with that for now."

She continues, "And what are the circumstances?" "I don't know," I say, at a loss. "Well there's your problem," she says. "Okay, so what kind of circumstances might there be?" "Gosh, that's basically just asking 'what are songs for?'" "What are songs for then?" "Ugh, lots of things; passing the time, coordinating work, a group activity, filling out an experience, passive entertainment, artistic expression or exploration, learning exercises. I'm sure there's more. And of course, they're not necessarily for only one thing." "So which of those are you interested in?" "Passing the time and expression. I'm bored, but also.. something else." "Explain, love." ��"I don't know how to phrase this. And I really don't know what's happening. It's like there's something stuck that I need to get out. Sometimes when I listen to music I feel like a little bit of it gets out. But it's not quite right, it's not enough, like it's just taunting me. I guess I want to ffeel? But every time I try to connect to something I get that voice screaming at me 'fucking kill yourself you little shit.'" "Aw. Is this blaming yourself for things you didn't understand?" "No, it's not just that. There's also times people just told me I was bad, essentially. And there were times when I was taken in by others' ideas. Like, one time I tried to just pay someone to explain a concept to me. When he didn't get it and I tried to clarify, he said it was abusive. And, there was that whole 'atheism as a movement' thing. Aside, I feel bad about trying to explain myself or anything that could be construed as defending my behavior. But, people could have saved me from that too. There was one exchange, I was arguing on 4chan about it I think. Someone talking about philosophy told me something I said was a non sequitur, but wouldn't explain it. I tried provoking him, saying philosophy was bullshit. And it worked. He told me why I was wrong, it made sense, I learned something. Or un-learned, I guess. I thanked him and apologized and I think he called me a piece of shit. But, ya' know, I wasn't just lost. I didn't have to be. She could have saved me. hypothetically." "Well, for the first one it sounds like others are misunderstanding you and blaming you for it." "Maybe it was the way I was doing it that was abusive?" "Were you trying to make them feel bad?" "No." "Then they must have misunderstood." "But what if they felt bad anyway, why would my intent matter?" "Because that's not fair." She clings to me more tightly. "Mistakes don't make you who you are. And certainly not when you didn't know any better." "I should've known better though, right? and I'm a failure for not figuring it out." "You're only you. You can't be anyone else." Cold washes over me. "I'm not good enough." "You're good enough for me," she says, "even if you don't believe it yet." "That sounds like you're presuming that I am going to believe it." "You will." She kisses my cheek again. I manage not to flinch this time. "I appreciate you being here. You make me feel warm." "I appreciate warming you." she says. "And um, what about the other thing? Being misled, probably a good way to phrase it." "Just another mistake, love." I let myself sink into her arms. "Sorry. I'm supposed to be talking about music or something, right?" "You don't have to be doing anything," she says, "do whatever you want." "How can I know you mean that? That's one of the things people never mean, they're always lying when they say it." "Hm, how about I order you to tell me what you want, and then I order you to do it?" "Hah, sure, we could try that." "Tell me what it is you want to do, love." "I want to keep sitting here while you hold me. I want get rid of all this shit holding me back. I want to be free to feel things without feeling bad about it. And I want to express those feelings, I guess." "Well, not all of that is actionable," "Sorry." "..but, stay here with me, tell me about any bad feelings you start having, and we're going to talk about expressing things." "Alright."

"So why music?" she asks. "There's lots of ways you could express yourself." "I guess because it's just what's the most familiar to me. And that it's what's resonated with me the most. That could just be chance. Like, music is always around in some form or another. And reading a book or something takes more work. It could just be that I've been exposed to more music, and thus happened to find works that speak to me more. And I just haven't had that with other mediums. I used to read a lot when I was small. But I never found anything that like, I dunno how to phase it, made me feel things down in mah soul. Except for those one or two books she lent me. Maybe I was just reading the wrong things. But to be fair, it's really hard to find good authors. And art, I just haven't been exposed to much of it at all. I've tried reading graphic novels a couple times but it seemed like I was getting very little story for how much they cost. Maybe I just don't get it, maybe I just haven't found the right kind of thing, but it sure seems like it just doesn't really speak to me." "Have you ever tried doing anything besides music yourself? It seems like say, haiku, would be easier." "Kind of. I know I don't have the basic skills for drawing, yet. I was working on that for a while, entire pages of trying to make a perfect circle and stuff. Writing seems like it'd be real easy, ya' know, I'm literate. But it seems like the problem is moreso having something to express. And if I try to just pick something, like:

Moonlight shining on the ground dark branches reach into a darkened sky a cold wind surrounds me.

Then I feel like, 'no, those aren't real feelings. and also the way I'm expressing them is wrong. and also that subject isn't good enough to have feelings about.'" "Wait, isn't that not a haiku?" "Maybe? Supposedly saying that the structure is in regard to syllables is a poor translation from the Japanese, though really it doesn't translate to English at all. But also actually the rules don't matter and really the point is to distill an experience." "That makes sense." she says. "So how do you feel about that maybe-haiku?" It takes me a moment to consider. "Good? I think. I dunno, I feel.. feelings." "Feeling feelings is what you wanted isn't it?" "I suppose, yeah." "Then just pick things and make more art for me." "I'll try." I say. "But what about the stuff that's blocked? the things that get drowned out before I even know what the thought was?" "Hm," she thinks for a moment, "is there anything that used to be blocked which isn't anymore?" "I'm not sure." I say. "I don't think there's anything that used to be forbidden that I'm entirely free to think now." "How about even a little bit?" "Yeah I can think of something. I don't wanna get into specifics." "That's alright, love. What changed?" "I had some support, even if just imagined. Someone I could talk to about it who didn't just condemn me. And, who seemed to actually understand." "Was that not enough?" "Ostensibly, no," I say, "but I don't think that's because support is insufficient. I think the problem was that I was never able to form an understanding of the issue. Usually, unable to figure out why what I did was wrong, or at least why someone would think it's wrong." "I know you don't want to get into anything specific, but is there something you wouldn't mind sharing for context?" Yeah I'll try." I say. "One thing, 'harassment'. This incident was not what, I dunno how to phrase this, this is not the incident that caused the bad feelings. But there was one time I was leaving random people weird anonymous asks, just 'cause I thought it was amusing. One of them, I thought it was innocuous, a couple of guys I sent it to didn't seem to mind, but the one girl was pissed about it. I'm guessing it's like: if I just ask you for a dollar, you probably won't feel harassed, but if I'm the hundredth person to ask, you will. But no ever told me tthat. I can't- I can't do any more." "That's alright." she says. "So, you need someone to help you understand things?" "I mean, I wouldn't know, but I think so. And to understand me. And to just believe me." "I can do that." "I- I'm pretty sure I've heard that one before." "What could I do to convince you?" "I don't know." I say. "I guess, why does anyone believe anything? no, just me. Why do I believe anything. Consistency? Things adding up, making sense. And at any point one little thing, one new piece of information, could overturn all of it. And just the idea that someone could accept me doesn't make sense anymore. Everyone I ever trusted abandoned me. I don't think I could really believe in anyone ever again." "But one little thing could overturn that, right?" "Yeah." "So I just need to prove that I'm not going to abandon you?" "Technically, yeah. But that's kind of the opposite of how proof works. You can't just show a thing is true, you can only show that alternatives are false. And the last hypothesis standing wins, tentatively." "So then, we need to go over every little reason you think I might leave you. And when I'm still here, still holding you, then you'll believe in me?" "Yyeah." "Then, love, come to me with every little thing you can manage, and I will prove that I can be your one little thing." "I- don't know what to say to that." "You could say 'yes'." "I'll try."

"So, for now, did you want to get back to music? 'Where to go with it' was next, right?" "Actually, I think I'm okay now. Like, it's all expressing feelings, really. Melody feels a certain way, rhythm feels a certain way. Learning a vocabulary of those things is just going to take study and practice. I jusst needed help with the feelings, I guess." "Then have I adequately fulfilled my role as your muse?" "You have been a lovely muse, darling." "Anytime, love. Let me know if you need any more help." "I will."

- "Hey Mara?" "mhm?" "Why do you bother with me? Why am I worth the trouble?" "Because I steal your life essence while you're sleeping," she hisses in my ear, "more life means more to sssteal." She gently bites my shoulder. "Hey! I'm serious." "I know." She leans her head on mine. "But you'd find that more believable than if I'd just said I liked you, right?" "Yeah." I admit. "What's there to like?" "Well, you're clever, thoughtful, creative, and compassionate," she says, "even if you don't express it very well." She continues, "But, I think to large degree people just click, with no apparent rhyme or reason to it. It's certainly not something you can just do, be more creative or some such. And people like all sorts of things. Really I should be asking you, why do you think there's nothing about you to like?" "Because I fucked everything up. everything in my life. I could never do anything right." "You know that's not your fault." "But it is what I am, right? Maybe my mistakes aren't, but I'm still the person that made them. I'm the one who couldn't figure anything out. I'm the one who got sucked into dogmas and ideologies. I'm the one who was too paralyzed to think anything through." "You know that's not your fault either." "What am I, Mara?" "You are.." she pauses, thinking. "an assortment of processes; wants and needs, likes and dislikes, passions and desires, with a network of logic tying it all together. Which has been born into an environment not suited to it." "Am a good assortment of processes?" "My favorite." she says. I let out a short laugh. After a moment, the cold washes over me again. "I'm so scared. Everything is so hard." "I would change the world for you if I could." she says. "But what I can do, is be here to hold you any time you need to feel warm." We sit in silence for a moment as I cling to her. I gather my courage. "Hhey, ccan I-, may I kiss you thiss time?" She gives me a look. I don't know what it means, it scares me. "..with or without tongue?" "WHAT?" I go blank, she cackles loudly. "That's alright, we'll work up to it. Yes you may." She leans in, waiting. I push through the fear numbing my brain and constricting my body. And I press my lips against hers. A rush of warmth floods over my body. I lose myself in it for a moment. As I pull away, I realize what I just did. The fear overwhelms me. My body goes stiff. My mind goes blank. "It's okay," a soft voice whispers in my ear, calling me back. "It's okay, love. You're okay." When my awareness comes back I find that I'm trembling. Her embrace calms me back down. "I'm- pathetic, right? worthless." "Not to me." she says. "You're just hurt. You may not look like much right now, but I know you have all the potential in the world." She continues, "And even if you never amount to anything, I still want you to be happy." "I don't deserve that." "You don't, and no one does. Life isn't fair. Your well-being is not something you should have to earn. And with what would you earn it, if you didn't have it to begin with? Happiness is a gift. That I want to give it would be reason enough."

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delicrieux · 3 years

Text

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”.

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing. word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie: y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!”

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

queen rly went from 🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing.

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.”

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall.

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets.

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout.

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #myso #make you say oh #imagine #imagines

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pies-writes-and-more · 3 years

Text

covered in bruises

word count: 2,611

pairing: tsukishima kei x fem!reader

warnings: brief mentions of blood, nosebleeds, bruises, and scuffs/cuts, also a bitchy ex-boyfriend who sucks and shares some private pics. also some swearing cause it’s me (but i promise it’s fluffy!!!)

a/n: i genuinely have no clue where this idea came from but I’m a sucker for partners taking care of each other after a fight or something so tadah. thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells for helping me with the ending and @thisnoodlewritesao3 for helping me with the title! i hope you guys enjoy!

haikyuu masterlist

A few years ago, if you had told Y/N Y/L/N that she would be answering a phone call in the dead of night from Yamaguchi, she probably would’ve guessed that the two of them had forgotten about some project they were supposed to complete and the pair would’ve spent all night working on it while Tsukishima slept peacefully knowing he had finished it.

What Y/N never guessed on happening was Tsukishima stumbling through her front door, only barely being held up by Yamaguchi, the blond’s face covered in scuff marks and blood dripping from his nose and lips.

“What the hell happened?” Y/N gaped, immediately rushing to Tsukishima’s other side and helping him into the kitchen.

“Don’t even get me started,” Yamaguchi grumbled, muttering something about keeping your mouth shut and never would’ve gotten into this mess.

“Stop grumbling. I’m fine. You’re fine. Everyone’s fine,” Tsukishima huffed, pushing the two of them off but swaying a little.

“Tsukishima Kei, what the hell happened to you? You look like you got into a fight!” Y/N stared at him for a moment, watching as his gaze flickered away from hers. She glanced at Yamaguchi, as if hoping that would bring some answers, but he just glared at Tsukishima as well. “I’ll get the first aid kit,” she said after a beat of silence, walking to the other room.

There was a flurry of hushed whispers as she left, Yamaguchi insisting to Tsukishima that he needed to tell her what was going and Tsukishima being blatantly stupid and insisting that there was in fact, nothing going on.

By the time that Y/N returned, hands filled with some spare tissues and bandages, sprays and cotton balls, Yamaguchi had thrown up his hands in the air in exasperation, “I give up. I brought him this far. He’s your problem now,” he groaned, shaking his head towards Y/N. “I’m sorry for dumping him on you, but maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

Y/N and Tsukishima watched as Yamaguchi stormed off, leaving both of them in an awkward silence.

“Are you going to stand there or are you going to help me?” Tsukishima grumbled after a bit, sitting down on a nearby dining chair.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, part of her wanting to smack him in the head but thinking better of it considering his injuries. “Here, hold this to your nose,” she insisted, handing him the tissues as she glanced over his body. From what she could see, the most damage was on his face but if he could keep his nosebleed in order, she could tend to the scrapes and cuts that were starting to bleed on his knuckles.

Pulling up a chair next to him, Y/N sprayed some hydrogen peroxide onto his knuckles. Tsukishima inhaled sharply, pulling away from her grip as he winced, “What the hell is that?” He glared at her, trying not to make it obvious just how much that fucking hurt.

“Give me your fucking hands, Kei,” Y/N demanded, holding her hands out with another vicious look. “You gotta spray them before they get all infected.”

The boy hesitated before slowly letting her hands take his, bracing himself this time as she dabbed away the blood and finally wrapped it up in some medical bandages. “I’ll get you something cold for your nose, hang on,” she mumbled, shuffling to the freezer and digging through to find something helpful.

Tsukishima shifted awkwardly, trying to glance around at anything else so he didn’t have to sit in the silence. “Are you not going to ask?” He muttered out finally, avoiding her eyes as he checked to see how much his nose was still bleeding.

“How about I assume it was something stupid?” she quipped, bringing over a cold ice pack. “Here, I use this sometimes when my muscles hurt after swimming practice.”

He nodded slowly, placing it over his nose in hopes of bringing down any swelling. Now that he was sitting here and his adrenaline was going down, everything was starting to ache a lot more.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Tsukishima murmured, glancing at her for a moment.

Y/N laughed a bit, shaking her head, “Sure it wasn’t.”

Tsukishima frowned tightly, watching her as she cleaned him up. Her fingers delicately working along his skin, checking for any other cuts or scrapes along his arm. “Why would it be something stupid?”

“Because, the Tsukishima Kei that I grew up with only fought with snarky comebacks and sneers,” Y/N laughed a bit at the memories, glancing up at him and brushing her fingers along the cut on his eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t that mean that if I had to punch someone, it would be something serious?”

The girl couldn’t contain her laughter anymore, thinking about this string bean of a boy throwing hands, “You punched someone? It kinda just looks like you got used as a punching bag.”

“Hey, it was 3 to 1. And I left some pretty good cuts on them too, thank you very much,” Tsukishima groaned a bit as Y/N dabbed a bit of the peroxide on his eyebrow, swatting at her hand, “Okay okay. I think it’s clean now!”

“So if one of these gets infected, will you be bitching like a little baby then too?” She shot back, smacking his hand away from hers. “How’s your nose?”

Tsukishima pulled the tissues and cold pack away from his face, letting Y/N examine him, “Well, I don’t think it’s broken so you’ll probably be fine. Just don’t take a volleyball to the face anytime soon.”

He just rolled his eyes as she went to start a kettle, insisting that tea was good for healing.

“If I asked what it was about would you be honest?” Y/N questioned as she brought over two cups of tea.

“Would you believe me if I said they had just such punchable faces?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, kicking at his shin from under the table and making him whine a bit more, “Hey! I’m bruised all over the place!”

“Tell me what happened! Yamaguchi thought I should know so why shouldn’t I know?”

Tsukishima just looked away, fingers drumming along the mug that was warming his hands. “Just... some dude doing some dumb shit. Saying stupid things about...”

“About?”

“About you.”

Y/N stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Tsukishima wasn’t exactly the number one best example of a friend. And it wasn’t like there weren’t people before who didn’t like her. There were bound to be people saying shit.

“What did they say? Do I know them?” She asked finally, thinking back about the list of people she had in her head who definitely didn’t like her.

“It doesn’t matter, they were just being idiots,” Tsukishima tried to insist, sipping at his tea. “I was just annoyed and so I called them out for it. And the one guy took a swing at me. Then we just... did what guys do, I dunno.”

“Is Yamaguchi okay?” Y/N’s eyes widened, looking at her front doors as if the boy would magically still be there. “Did he get hurt?”

“No way. If anything, Yamaguchi probably broke the one guy’s nose,” Tsukishima snickered, thinking back to the moment where one of the dudes crumpled up in pain after Yams smacked him around.

Y/N nodded slowly, reminding herself to text the boy later and make sure he was alright. “You’re really not gonna tell me what they said?”

Tsukishima stretched his legs out slightly, getting more comfortable in the seat and avoided her eyes some more, as if pretending she hadn’t said anything. But the awkwardness exuding from him was very evident. “He just... said something about you being average... but still kept showing off these stupid pictures,” he finally muttered out, ears going red.

Y/N felt her heart drop a little. She didn’t need to hear anything more than pictures to know that her fucking ex-boyfriend was the one who was causing all this trouble. She had so many regrets about that relationship, and one of them was the photos that she had sent.

“I deleted them,” Tsukishima commented after glancing at her expression. “When I knocked him down I grabbed his phone and deleted them. I dunno if he has other copies somewhere but...”

Y/N practically threw herself across the table, wrapping the string bean boy into a hug. There was such a relief off of her shoulders, just knowing that Tsukishima had tried to get rid of them.

He grunted in response, pulling her closer into a hug but also shifting her weight around so it wasn’t on his side (which hurt like a bitch). “Stop doing stupid things for boys who are too dumb to realize what they have,” he commented, flicking her head.

She gave a little laugh, hugging him tighter for a moment before pulling away, “Yea yea... Does that mean I should stop taking care of you all the time?”

Tsukishima’s lips made a few protesting sounds, huffing before finally standing up and stretching. “I should get going. I don’t want you to stay up too late or you’ll be yawning all day tomorrow in math.”

Y/N smacked his arm a little making him wince a bit, which just made her laugh, “Go on then. Try to take a shower and ice your bruises. And next time you beat up my ex-boyfriend, call me so I can take a swing at him too.”

Tsukishima smirked and nodded, heading to the front door and slipping his shoes on.

“Hey Tsukishima?”

He glanced back at her, surprised to find the nervous look on her face. She shifted on her feet for a moment before reaching up and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, “I mean it. Thank you.”

Tsukishima burst into a fit of stammers, insisting that it wasn’t that big of a deal and she shouldn’t make it into one, but his cheeks were glowing red while he waved it away.

The next day at school, Y/N couldn’t help but smirk when her eyes landed on her black-eyed and scuffed up ex-boyfriend. For a string bean, apparently Tsukishima was pretty good at landing punches. Maybe it was the snarky expression on her face, or maybe it was just because she had walked by, but before Y/N could rush past him, her ex-boyfriend stepped in front of her, glowering down at her.

“Get out of my way, asshole,” Y/N huffed, stepping back slightly.

“You know, I always knew there was something going on with you and Four Eyes,” her ex told her in a low voice, arms crossed in front of his chest. “I should’ve known you were cheating on me.”

“Right, I cheated on you and then broke up with you for cheating on me,” Y/N raised an eyebrow up at him. “Get lost, idiot. I don’t have time for you.”

“You’re saying you weren’t seeing him behind my back? That it’s not suspicious that you two immediately started going out after we broke up?” His voice was raising, causing all the students nearby to glance in their direction, whispers filling the space around them.

“We aren’t going out,” Tsukishima’s voice thudded into the air, his heavy arm flopping onto Y/N’s shoulders. He patted her head gently as he gave her a simple smile before turning his glare onto the dude in front of him. “I didn’t ask her out when you two broke up. But if she’ll have me, I can do it here and now in front of you?”

The offer stunned everyone around them, even the whispering bunches of teens who had come around to see if these two bruised and beaten up boys would end up fighting again. Y/N looked up at Tsukishima with wide eyes, heart palpitating against her chest.

“I knew you liked her,” her ex scoffed. “Too bad she’s too good for you.”

“Well if she settled for the likes of you, I must have a pretty decent shot. I might not be the best boyfriend material, but at least I know not to talk shit about a girl like Y/N,” Tsukishima snapped back. His eyes finally met Y/N’s and she had to wonder for a moment if he was being serious or just saying this to show up the asshole in front of them.

“There’s no way she would go out with you-” the asshole glared at the two of them.

“Yes,” Y/N breathed out softly, both Asshole and Tsukishima’s eyes falling on her. “Ask me.”

Tsukshima’s usually scowling lips turned into a smile, patting her head and ruffling up her hair slightly, “Go out with me.”

Y/N nodded with a smile, still searching his eyes for any sign that this was a genuine interaction.

“Finally,” Yamaguchi huffed from behind the two of them, grinning widely as they all turned to look at him. “The two of you look good together. Now hurry up, we’re going to be late to class.”

Tsukishima grabbed Y/N’s hand before she or her ex could say anything, pulling her ahead as they followed Yams to class.

“W-Wait, Tsukishima,” Y/N stopped in her tracks as they got outside of the classroom, Yams already heading in.

“What?”

Y/N watched him carefully, still unsure of his intentions. “Thank you, for helping me out back there but...”

Tsukishima’s eyes darkened for a moment, like he was coming to some sort of realization, “If it was just a ploy to you, it’s fine. We can just say it was to get him off your back, that’s fine.”

She grabbed his arm as he started to move away, frowning as she looked up at him, “N-No, that’s... I just wanted to know if you... if you meant it.”

As his eyes met hers again, he tilted his head slightly, “Meant what?”

Y/N sighed, knowing they were going to end up going back and forth on this topic if she wasn’t straight up wit him. “Did... Did you really want to ask me out?”

He gave a smirk and Y/N’s heart started to fall - so it had been a joke this whole time then. “Obviously I wanted to ask you out. I’ve been wanting to for weeks now. Did you think I would just ask you out for no reason?”

Y/N wanted to point out that he could have just asked her out to humiliate her ex but seemed to catch onto this and just laughed. “If you think I’d actually fight a guy for just anyone, you’re stupider than I thought.”

She pouted in return, hitting his chest in defiance, “Hey!”

Tsukishima laughed and flicked her forehead, smirking down at her, “Go out with me. Seriously this time.”

Y/N glared playfully at him, pushing at his chest a little, “Fine. But you’ve got to be a bit nicer to me.”

“I took punches to the face for you, how much nicer can I get?” Tsukishima scoffed but bent down and kissed her nose gently. “Now hurry up, we’re late now, idiot.”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel like everyone was watching them as Tsukishima interlaced their fingers together and pulled her into class, dropping her off at her seat and giving her a cheeky wink, before taking his next to Yamaguchi.

She glanced at him every few seconds in class, pinching herself each time he would catch her eye and give her a small smile, wondering if her dreams had really come true. Had the guy she had fallen head over heels for really just asked her out?

Yes. And surprisingly, it was all thanks to her piece of shit ex boyfriend and a bloody nose.

haikyuu masterlist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@al0ehas @aurumk @neko-chii1 @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @tobi-momo @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @livy384 @babyshoyo @jesssobs @b-bakana

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #pies writes

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thebeautyoffanfics · 3 years

Note

Hey sav!! It's me again, back with another request 😎 Can I get an Akane x fem!reader where the reader walks in on Akane in his supernatural form and is like "😳 woah babes,," And then just general stuff about her fangirling constantly abt it and even being more susceptible to Akane's methods of getting her to blush? aaaaaaaa I hope this made sense,,, have a nice day tho, Sav!!! - owl anon

akane aoi x f!reader

a/n: the way i went “:0 owl anon” particularly cos of the fact that i’ve been in a very akane-loving mood for no reason in particular. He’s just neat. But!! Welcome back, and of course you can :DD cos this would literally be me, i just wanna. hold his hand yk yk. Makes perfect sense uvu!! You have a nice day too!!!

warnings: none <3

word count: 923

“Waaaaaaah, Akaneeeeeeeee,” You’d ‘cry’, as you did many times before, placing a hand dramatically on your chest after you entered the room. Not because he hurt your feelings. Not because you were hurt, emotionally nor physically. No, because- look at him! He’s!! Hot!!!

“Akane, I promise you, I get thrown off when you go from Nerd to… aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.”

“??? Hey, (Y/N), what the heck does that mean??? Also this is the third time you’ve done this today- I don’t mind, of course, it’s kinda cute but-”

“NO, AKANE, THE CUTE THING HERE IS YOU???”

Your compliments and blushing honestly makes Akane feel a bit flustered as well- it’s you standing there, face red as you ramble about how pretty he is, and Akane standing there, face slightly less red, thinking about how pretty you are. Really- how is such a cute person fawning over him like that-

You’ll be walking around after school, finishing up with duties from a club, and you’ll spot the tail end of a ponytail, and instantly you’re like: “Ah. It’s him. It’s my boy.”

“Akane!!” You’d call, chasing after him. Of course, he’d stop, and face you, already smirking since he knew what your reaction was nearly every time. It never got old, if he was being completely honest.

You laughed lightly, blushing as you hugged him. “Good to see you, Akane!!”

“Mhm, good to see me in my supernatural form? Still, it’s good to see you and your enthusiasm as well.”

“Aoinrfoaoirnf yeah but I love you, you’re just- you’re just the boy I love, but with a more… dunno- you’re cute on any day, but it’s like a special occasion!”

He’d laugh lightheartedly, patting your head gently. No matter if you treated him like you had never seen his supernatural form before, you were the cutest thing he had ever seen. Heck, it was nice to him- getting to see you without those glasses causing any sort of glare or distortion. It was purely you! Cute, loving, fangirling, you.

You’d see him across the hall, and he’d know that you were nearby thanks to your little squeal. He’d turn around, meeting your eyes, to which you’d only cover your face, running up to him and plopping yourself into his chest. “You’re so cuteeeee, you’ve turned into a total babeeeeeeee, how does a little paranormal crap do this- what happened to my dorky boyfrienddddd?”

“I- thanks, (Y/N). I’m still Akane though.”

“I know, I knowwwww, you’re just dressed upppp… you look great in a suit, you don’t know what it does to my poor heart. I didn’t think you could get cuter, pleaseeeee, stop making my heart hurt like thisssss.”

However, you’d better believe he uses your blushing and compliments as a means to tease you. Once no supernaturals, and- most importantly- no Terus, were around, he’d have to cut your ramblings short.

“(Y/N), I’m well aware how fond you are of me like this, but,” He’d pause, leaning forward slightly. Just close enough to where you could faintly feel his breath on your face. He smelled nice, was what you would think, if his close proximity wasn’t enough to make your mind race.

“Why don’t I get this sort of attention normally? It makes me want to stay like this all the time, just to have you only think of me.”

“Ah-” You tried to speak, feeling what you could only describe as every ounce of blood in your body rushing to your face. “Akaneeeeeeeeeeheeeeeheeehe...”

“Akanehehehe?”

“Stooooop, don’t make fun of meeeeeeeeeee,”

Akane would snort, then burst into laughter, sitting back as he did so. Really, you were too cute- as was he. A look at his laughing face was enough to make you smile. He was pretty constantly, you knew it and he did as well, but he usually had to be more serious as a supernatural.

“Sorry, (Y/N), I couldn’t resist. I think it’s only fair- you practically tease me constantly whenever you compliment me like that.”

“Yeah, but-”

He cut you off, kissing you briefly, then sitting back with his usual Akane smirk- watching you as if nothing happened, and he was simply encouraging you to continue talking. “WAAH, AKANE, YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT TO MY HEARTTTT!! You know how gorgeous you are, and you’re using it against me-! You think that ‘cos you’re wearing a suit, and don’t have those glasses, and have a ponytail, and are a supernatural that you can just- just- just make my heart feel like it’s gonna explode like that!”

He raised his eyebrows before speaking once again, “those sorts of rambles are exactly why I did that.”

“...And you’ve got a slightly different overall aura, in a good way- and your eyes are gorgeous and more visible without those glasses, and-”

Well- you knew what you were doing, but he wasn’t going to be one to deny you another kiss-

“Akane, I hope you realize that I’m only gonna compliment you more if it means I get rewarded.”

“(Y/N), I hope you realize I don’t actually mind the compliments. We started dating before you realized I was a supernatural, so I’m sure you like how I look in class just the same as you like me now.”

To that, you’d nod, glad that he understood that much. “Plus, you’re bolder in this form!”

“I think I’m ‘bolder’ because we aren’t in class.” He'd say, eyebrows still raised slightly.

“That does make sense, but like- but like, it’s just different, you know?”

#owl anon #request #x reader #f!reader #x f!reader #headcanons #tbhk #jshk #toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #akane aoi #tbhk x reader #jshk x reader #toilet bound hanako kun x reader #jibaku shounen hanako kun x reader #akane aoi x reader #akane aoi headcanons #akane headcanons

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firebirdsdaughter · 2 years

Text

Aaaaaa…

… Things that get me about Encanto is, well, for one, family relationships, I love those, but…

Again, it’s not necessary to his actions, but I love the idea of idea of Bruno, who seems very effected by his mother’s stern affect and very anxious (I identify w/ this man so much, I’m also a little childish and hide away in a room and apologise a lot) but makes very difficult decisions twice for Mirabel’s sake, the first time ostracising himself from the family he adored even if he had difficulty expressing himself and the second time to not just come out of hiding but to face his mother… Just him doing this while thinking of this little girl who would maybe try to crawl into his lap all the time, or loved the fact their hair curled in a similar way, or would reach for him and cry if he put her down, this innocent little child who’s not afraid or apprehensive of him in anyway, and being like—no, not letting her go through what’s gonna happen if I tell my mother, I’d rather ghost myself then let her be hurt like that. I love that so much.

Bc I feel the need to disclaim, I absolutely know he’d do that for any member of the family bc he is Best Tío of the year, but esp given the connection they share in the film, I love the idea of that having started when she was young. Also w/ my theories (yes I know I’m not the first, just goes to show how much sense it makes), also makes me love the thought of, despite their troubles, him having a particular relationship w/ his mother, too. Makes sense given their kinda ‘roles’ in the family, too, the ‘guardian of the magic/candle/house’ seeking counsel of the one who can see the future… I’m very tired bc also I got my booster today so I can’t really order my thoughts to explain but. Bruno looks into the future, despite the discomfort and stigma he must have had about it even by that point, bc Abuela asks him to, and she asks him to for/bc of Mirabel. Immediately after, he destroys the vision and “leaves” for Mirabel’s sake. While the film leaves no doubt that he loves his whole family and they love him and each other w/ their whole hearts, this feels poetic to me.

Also I love Pepa’s side of the family. Like I’d love to see an adventure where Camillo gets to come, esp bc he and Mirabel are the same age, which… I dunno, I’d like to see them interacting a little more. I’d like to see the team they’d make. He feels like he’s got a lot of potential—like he was very much not just the ‘bratty prankster’ even though he ultimately didn’t do much.

And another thing that proper gets me is that moment Mirabel has in Don’t Talk About Bruno where she pauses outside of Luisa’s flickering door and then sees hers sister struggling w/ a cactus… The look on her face really hit me. I’m a younger sister, and I’m really close to my big sister and that moment just… Spoke to me. Like kudos to the animators. It felt like seeing Luisa so upset and suffering encouraged her to go reassemble the vision and… Like I said, I felt that. I’ve talked about having self esteem issues regarding sibs about something else, but never doubt, my sister is one if my favourite people in the world. It was one of those small moments that just really shows you how much Mirabel loves her family? Like yes, her relationship w/ Isabella is awkward and complex, but under that she does love her, and meanwhile… Her relationship w/ Luisa doesn’t seem to be burdened in the same way. Luisa doesn’t want to talk about her own insecurities at first, yes, but she’s clearly very protective and affectionate of Mirabel. Maybe feels like she’s extra gotta look out for her ungifted baby sister. And for Mirabel, seeing Luisa unhappy is enough to dispel her apprehension about the vision long enough to put it together. It’s a small moment, but it meant a lot to me, as a younger sibling who has sat w/ my sister while she cried over stuff, or vice versa.

I just love this family so much.

#Firebird Randomness #Encanto #Encanto Spoilers #I cried #I don't cry during movies #… okay maybe it was the booster shot but listen #I love family #Things You Didn't Know Fire Was Into

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occult-castiel · 3 years

Text

The Same Page

This is my @destielsecretsanta2020 gift for @eclypseaf!!! The request was open, but bonus points for Miracle being present. So I wrote some post empty rescue fic!

This one honestly gave me a really hard time and I have no idea why. I hope you like it and have has an awesome christmas!

[Ao3 Link]

The portal spits them out in the dungeon.

Dean stumbles out first, a half step ahead of Cas. Human, malleable, and very much alive with one of the little dude's arms draped over Dean's shoulder.

Cas stumbles forward. Dean shoots an arm out in front of him, places a hand firmly against his chest. He maneuvers his other arms under his trenchcoat, grips his side firm.

His skins almost cool to the touch — much too cold to be safe. Not for a human, especially a brand new one.

And what if he's sick? Or gets sick and can't get better? Without his grace, there's a whole new set of worries. A bad flu that gets worse until he's gone, a hunt going wrong, fucking cancer. Heart disease kills pretty much everyone, doesn't it?

He takes a deep breath and focuses on the gentle thud of Cas' heart against his palm.

The last eight months haven't been easy. Not between the alcohol Sam eventually cut him off from, and the hunts getting sparse, and Jack being terrifying and gone until he wasn't.

Cas lulls his head to the side. His inky heart sticks to his forehead, and his blueberry-sweet eyes are unfocused but still manage to catch Dean's.

It's achingly familiar, and he smiles easy. "Hey there, sunshine."

Cas pinches his brows together as his head swims to stay upright. He slurs through some half-baked, nonsense question about coral reef bleaching, and Dean's so relieved he laughs.

Cas smiles at the sound, dazed and feather-light, but the joy is unmistakable.

It's the best thing Dean's ever seen. Fuck, he missed him. Missed him so much he didn't know what to do with himself.

Cas winces — what little help he was giving Dean in holding him up falls. He makes up the difference quick. Weak fingers curl around Dean's wrist.

"Sorry —"

"S'okay. Gonna —" he swallows hard. Tries to shove away the distinct pin-prick in his tear ducts that always means he needs to man the hell up. "Gonna get you to a bed, okay?"

Cas grunts, a pitiful noise that's mostly air and entirely feeble. "Tired."

"Rest then. It ain't far. I gotcha, buddy."

When he nods, his hair brushes Dean's neck.

It's not well thought out. The lack of work and overload of carbs haven't done Dean's muscles any favors. His joints creak and protest every step, but his room isn't far, and he'd be damned before he let's Cas feel like he has to do anything alone this time.

Miracle hops off the bed the moment the door opens.

Dean lays Cas on top of the bunched up blanket. Once he's down, Dean slowly works the trencoast and suit jacket off, his hands careful as they trail across the thin cotton of his shirt.

Cas shivers, and Dean wrestles to tug the blanket out from under him, Miracle nuzzling the side of his leg the whole time.

She's probably hungry. Or just wants attention. He hasn't exactly been available the last couple weeks, too busy with his nose in piles of research. But it all payed off.

Cas grimaces in his sleep, and it twists the cords in Dean's chest. He reaches his hand out and ghosts his fingers across the sweat-stained hair stuck to his skin, gently pushing it to the side.

He'd said it once, not more than a month ago, in the darkness of his room, Miracle tucked as close as he could get her.

He said he loved me, and I — I didn't say it back. But I do. God I do.

Dean trails his hand from his forehead to the flushed pillow of his cheeks. The other knuckles roughly at his eyes and comes back wet.

He has no god damn idea what he wouldve done without Miracle to talk to. Cause he could never get it out to Sam. Not those last moments. Not what Cas really means to him. Always too close to an edge of something larger than any apocalypse they've ever dealt with.

He traces down low enough to brush across Cas' wrist, the pained look still on his face.

Dean swallows, his heart hammers hard in his throat. Timid even though the guy is unconscious, Dean grabs his hand.

His mind blanks. Turns to complete static — a jumble of half-formed thoughts about every reason he ever told himself not to.

He's an angel. The worlds ending. Always ending. He doesn't feel that way. Can't, the equipment for it's not there. It's why he leaves, isn't it? And what the fuck could ever hope to start when it's all always falling apart? When they could fall apart.

Everyone leaves.

A flash of cold prickles down his back, and he tries to takes a deep breath. It goes down ragged. There was something he read once, about picking out a sense.

Cas' breath, slow and steady. The clink of Mircale's claws on the floor. A muted buzz from the florescent lights in the hall.

He breaths again, a little easier. His fingers curls into Cas' palm, and his finger twitch against Dean in response. The dent in his brows relax, his jaw goes slack.

"S'okay Cas." He squeezes. "Just... be okay."

When his phone rings, dumped and forgotten on the other side of the room, he isn't quite sure how to let go. Like the ligaments in his hand have cemented in place, forgotten the muscle memory to make the movements happen.

When the second call comes through, Cas mumbles something. Dean's shoulder slack, and he pulls his hands back, clammy and with a slight tremor.

It's Sam. There's a small tug of guilt — he should've called him the moment he put Cas down. He knows he would've been worried sick if Sam was the one that had to go.

Sam's relieved too, promises to buy stuff for dinner on his way back from where Dean went in the Empty about fifty miles out. And he must hear something in his voice, because he stresses to go watch a movie or something and let Cas sleep it off.

Of course he's right. They knew Cas would be out cold. But leaving the room is still hard, and he lingers in the doorway until he gets a good look at Miracle's mess of tangled fur.

He hasn't brushed her hair, since that's practically what the fur is, in weeks.

"C'mon girl."

He grabs the brush from the bedside table, casts on last look at Cas, and takes Miracle to the TV room.

She hops on the couch next to him, tail thumping with excitement.

"You wanna get pretty to meet Cas later?"

She nuzzles his hand, sticks her nose against the brush, and a little bit of the stress from today lightens up.

He flips on some netflix show about baking food, and talks to Miracle as he starts in on her snout.

It's ritualistic to touch on whatevers going on with her, at this point.

As her fur smooths, he tells her about the Empty. Its piss-poor lighting, the mind boggling way directions work, how it has this awful burnt-licorice and gasoline stench clung to the nothingness of its everything.

It kinda makes his head hurt.

Almost two full episodes in, he has all her fur neat and tidy, and his little monologue has circled back to Cas. She'd know a lot about him if she could talk.

"It's hard to believe he's really back. And — and maybe it'll be good. We could, I dunno, get you a yard?" He nods, smiles. "Yeah, I bet your spoiled ass would like that. The bunker ain't a place for pets."

Miracle leaps from the couch, and someone clears their throat from the door.

Cas stands in the doorway, hunched in on himself. Dark strands of hair twist up in random directions, and the casual clothes Dean left him fit snugly.

He looks... comfortable. Like he slipped into humanity ages ago, not this afternoon.

"Cas."

He tilts his lips up, tight and sheepish. "I see you have a dog now."

"Yeah. Miracle. She uh — she helped me." He motions vaguely to his head. "Might not be batting a hundred up here if not for her."

Cas glances down at her, and the tense smile softens. "I'm very grateful then."

Almost reverent, he scratches the side of her ear.

Dean shakes his head. Blinks. Two things he never thought he'd see side by side mixed with the insanity of the day make none of this seem real.

Deep breath.

"She can — she can be there for you too," Dean says. "If you need it. Dogs are great listeners. Even the Madonna types like this one."

Cas gives a contemplative hum. "They are both blonde."

He puffs a breath of air. It's easy to forget Cas actually knows what he's talking about now, sometimes. Even if he does still miss the point by a mile.

"It was your turn."

Cas raises an eyebrow.

"To, uh, pick a movie." He motions to the seat next to him. "If you want."

Cas runs his bottom lip between his teeth and doesn't look at Dean. Doesn't say anything either. Just nods, walks over, and sinks into the couch.

It's a respectable distance. Close enough Dean would be able to sense him, far enough away they won't touch.

Miracle curls up on the other side of Cas, head flopped on his lap, right next to his balled up hands.

"Is it over?" His voice is small.

Dean doesn't have to ask. "Chuck isn't aproblem anymore." Cas sighs, slinks down bonelessly into the cushions. "We figured it out, took his powers. Jack's fixing up Heaven with it. Says he's gunna do that, find a way to put Amara back together, and then come home."

"Good. I don't think I'm up to fighting standards." He rolls his head to the side. They're close enough Dean can make out each muscle in his neck when he swallows. "You didn't have to save me, Dean. I'd — made peace with that fate."

It's bullshit. It's bullshit and Cas has to know it. He almost tells him a much, but if he can't have that talk now, then he never will.

He licks his lips. It doesn't help the dryness.

"Did you mean it?"

It's a dumb question, but one he needs answered.

Cas doesn't miss a beat. "That and more." The serenity in his words is endearing as it is cutting when he adds, "But we don't have to address it. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

It's Dean's turn to melt with relief. "Good — that's good."

Cas winces. "I understand if you'd like some space —"

He starts to stand up, and panic seizes Dean's chest like a vice grip. He grabs his wrist and Cas freezes.

"No! God no. Cas, it — it wasn't supposed to happen like that."

He looks confused, before some amount of understanding smoothes out some of the worried lines in his face. His eyes flick down to Dean's mouth for an instant. "How was it supposed to happen, then?"

"I thought, maybe on a hunt? Or — I don't know. Just... " some place I could say it back.

Its not good enough, saying it without saying it. Cas gave a speech. He saved Dean's life, saved the god damn world. All without knowing.

He shakes his head. Starts again. He had enough practice between thoughts he couldn't shove away and late night pet-therapy. "I thought you knew. Hell, I've been scared everyone knows. And if they did, you did too, right?"

"Subtly isn't always my strongest suit."

He laughs, and it's almost on the wrong side of sane. "Don't I know it."

He can do direct.

Slow enough that Cas has time to pull back, he runs his hand up his arm, cradles it against the back of Cas' neck. He leans across the small distance and kisses him.

It's clumsy and unsure, and Cas places a skittish hand on Dean's side like he's not sure what he's allowed to have even now, but their lips mesh together in a way that feels better than anything he can remember.

When they part, he's not sure either one of them are breathing. And he can't look at Cas, not when he says it. Not yet. So he presses their foreheads together, keeps his eyes fully lidded.

"I don't know how you could think you aren't worth saving. You — you're it for me."

"Dean —"

He shakes his head, and the tips of their noses brush. "I love you more than I know what to do with. You know that right?"

Bewildered, Cas says, "I didn't."

"Yean, well. Now you do."

He scoots back in place, flushed firm against the cushion. Their hands tangle together, and their knees are touching, and it's too much and not enough. But mostly not enough. Dean dares a glance over. Cas is staring at their hands, a pleased smile on his face.

And they're on the same page.

"I think you said something about a yard when I walked in?"

Instead of answering he says, "We should retire. I'm too old for this shit."

"Entirely?"

Dean shrugs. "A hunt here and there wouldn't hurt I guess."

"We'll talk about it later." He reaches over him, grabs the remote. "I think you said it was my turn?"

Dean grins, full and toothy. "Yeah, just no more romcoms, dude. I can only take so many."

Cas nods, curt and serious. "Of course."

He does anyway, and it's the best shitty movie Dean's ever seen.

#destiel secret santa #sorry this is being posted so late in the day!!!#my internets broken at the moment so it was very difficult to get it up #and i also couldnt run it through any spelling/grammer checkers #hopefully theres nothing atrociously wrong with it #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

Note

I'm was a hardcore Lee x Lily shipper back in the day and I'm still kinda am. I deserve your best insults 😔 Idk Lily rebelling against her father and open up to Lee was kinda cute, like she knew about Lee's past but she remained silent and acted if nothing happened for him (if you are in good terms with her). A random Hc I had was that she actually wanted Lee and Clem to come with her but was scared about what might happen or what they would think of her so she just left them behind.

Wait no hold on I'm curious about this

I know there were people who shipped Lee and Lilly when s1 was coming out, but I haven't really talked to anyone who was one of those people.

I have a complicated history with Lilly. Well, mostly s1 Lilly. Still hate tfs Lilly, but she's become one of my favorite characters in the first season. It took me a little while to get there but that's where I am.

And y'all know I'm all about Lee and Carley, but Imma put that on the side for a minute because if we're talking solely about s1 Lilly [which yeah, duh makes sense] and Lee, I don't hate the idea of this ship.

But there are some complications.

Lilly knows her dad hates Lee but she still stands by him because he's her dad and she loves him.... even if he's a piece of shit. It's complicated. She tells Lee this when he brings up that Larry still treats him bad, and you get the sense that Lilly disagrees with Larry and sees Lee as a good man. She knows about her father's pain, we don't, and while that doesn't excuse his behavior by any means... it makes sense that she has a bigger picture than us and that in this world, he's the last blood family she has left. She's aware that he's terrible and does her best to keep an eye on him so that he doesn't repeat the whole "you're not comin' with us you sonofabitch!" thing.

She appreciates what Lee was willing to do to help her father get his medicine, even after he blew up on everyone and tried to kick Duck out. Hell, she didn't agree with him in that situation either.

Larry doesn't treat Lilly right for a lot of the season, and even when he's complimenting her, it feels like he's laying even more pressure on her shoulders, y'know? Plus, if we take into account the shit she says about him in tfs.... yeah. Larry wasn't the greatest father.

Yeah, he's a prick, we all know this.... but then he has his heart attack and Lilly desperately tries to bring him back and begs for Lee's help. If he does help her, he becomes the one person Lilly feels she can rely on and trust. He continued to prove her father wrong, prove that he's a good man who wants to help people rather than do more harm.

So the idea that they would eventually grow closer, assuming the thing with the bandits didn't happen, isn't impossible and if given enough time, something could happen. Unfortunately, bandits attacked and Lilly was so distraught, angry, and obsessed that she ended up killing Carley/Doug, which caused her to either be left behind or locked up until she could steal the van.... and then she came back horrible in tfs soooo that's great.

Also, interesting that you share that headcanon because when I streamed my "choices I never make/under picked choices" run, I took Lilly with us and when she confronted Lee and asked him to come with her, I agreed.

Lee agreed to steal the RV with her, and she told him to go get Clementine... but then you go to her and Lilly steals the RV anyway and it's like??? but I thought we were gonna ditch em all together??? you lied to me??

Real interesting.... because yeah, I believe she wanted them to come with her, too. But Clementine was right there when she shot Carley/Doug and I think Lilly struggled with the idea of having to face the little girl who she further traumatized... plus, were Lee and Clem gonna treat her differently? after what she did? what if she ended up hurting them? maybe it's best to just..... go alone?

So she did.

I dunno, they could've been a cute pair but there's just a lot going against them. If it's not Larry, it's Kenny. If not him, then it's the bandits and cannibals and walkers and Lee's past and just all sorts of shit, y'know?

#asks #twdg lee #twdg lilly #uhhh what's the ship name for these two? lelilly? leely? uhh lillylee?#i dunno haha

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 3 years

Note

Hello! I feel kinda bad with all the asks I’ve sent since you reopened, but I’m weak for fics where Scott pushes Stiles away and Jackson steps in to be his friend. Do you know any with sterek?

Teen)Don’t feel bad. You’ve also found enough fics for me. I think we’re even. And here’s more Stiles and Jackson Friendship fics.

The Idea of the Fall by whenshewrites

(1/1 I 2,551 I General)

“Where was Scott?”

This time, when Stiles winced, it was for a different reason. “I dunno. Out?”

“How did this happen?”

“I got jumped leaving the station a couple of hours ago,” Stiles said quietly. “But really, dude, it’s fine. I couldn’t get an answer from his phone so I figured I’d come here instead—”

“Not the hospital?”

“Dude, it’s a few bruises and cuts. I’m not going to the hospital for that.”

So When Do I Get To Pledge My Loyalty To The Mob? by RedRidingStiles

(1/1 I 10,089 I Mature)

“Are you my sugar daddy?” Stiles blurts out, slapping a hand over his mouth when his brain catches up to his mouth. The man lets out a soft laugh, making his way around the couch till he’s standing just feet away from Stiles. Stiles can smell his cologne from here, it smells heavenly, Stiles kinda wants to bury his face into the guy's chest so he can figure out exactly what it is.

“If that’s what you’d like to call it.” The man smiles, Stiles doesn’t think he should be allowed to smile like that. All soft and gorgeous and way too pretty to be legal. He’s still not convinced any of this is real.

Stiles loses his wallet, someone returns it along with $5,000. Shit keeps coming, Stiles life doesn't make any sense anymore, he's just going with it.

And The Moon Shined A Little Brighter by LuneFaitLaFolie

(1/1 I 17,952 I Teen)

It’s not in the same spot, it’s over his left shoulder blade, almost like it’s over the back of his heart, but it’s just as big. It isn’t black either, so it also doesn’t match any of his other rune tattoos, which Stiles can say with confidence without looking, are either black or blue. No, it’s a deep red, the same colour as Derek’s alpha eyes.

It is though, a huge ass matching triskelion permanently on his body, and he has no clue how the fuck to tell Derek about it.

Everyone Needs a Little Mischief in Their Life by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(1/1 I 17,984 I Teen)

Finally, against his better judgement, and having gone in circles for much too long, he blurted out, “Who is my soulmate?”

The Witch looked disappointed, like he’d fucked up. Like he’d fucked up bad.

But she answered anyway.

“Mischief.”

Derek stared at her, not understanding, because what? “That’s not a name,” he insisted.

“Not exactly, no.” She offered him a small smile.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

I've Lived A Better Day by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere

(15/? I 28,486 I Not Rated)

When Stiles comes across a rogue Alpha during his first year at Berkeley, the ensuing fight doesn't exactly go his way. He calls an unlikely ally to help him with his transition, and finds out his new pack isn't quite who he might have thought it would be.

Stiles is now left with the task of trying to figure out how his old life will fit in with his new, but that is not without its challenges.

The New Normal by midnightcas

(27/27 I 63,392 I Teen)

After Stiles gets hurt...again, Derek puts him on the metaphorical supernatural bench. Meanwhile, Stiles tries to have a normal life and make normal friends. But when a new pack comes to town and the Hales start getting threats, things start to get a little....not normal.

Mage, Alpha, Mermaid by MBlack93

(10/10 I 98,042 I Mature)

Stiles has been beaten, tortured, and almost raped before he got out of Gerard's clutches. He doesn't stop to nurture and heal. He just wants to help his friends, his pack. When his help is not appreciated, and he is thrown out of the pack, he's lost. When a walk in the preserve changes everything, does he want it back?

Protect and Serve by MoonlitMemories

(17/17 I 150,789 I Mature)

Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles?

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #jackson whittemore #stiles and jackson #teardropsonrooftops

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dork-empress · 3 years

Text

Singing In The Dead Of Night Ch 2

Harley and Barman set up a playdate for their wards.

forgive the long post, i'll edit and clean it up when im home. chapter can also be found on my ao3, url in the description.

Harley made it back home, which was actually the manor of some billionaire who only really used the house for tax purposes. Harley had taken it over when Lucy came to live with her, deciding she needed more room, and they quickly changed it to suit their needs.

“Luuuucyyyy, I’m hooooome,” Harley called out to the manor, heading through the living room/gymnasium.

Lucy was balancing on the beam by her hands. “Never heard that one before.” She went into the splits and stayed on one hand.

Harley looked over her form. “Point your toes more...there ya go.” Lucy did as recommended. “I got candy for dinner!” She dumped her stolen lollipops on the table.

“I already ate, Aunt Harley,” she said, “I made extra pasta if you want.” She pointed over to the kitchen, before switching hands and flipping herself over.

“Oh,” Harley said, going over to make a plate, but feeling like ants were crawling in her skin. “You know, you don’t have to call me your aunt when it’s just the two of us,” She said, swirling her fork through the noodles.

Lucy shrugged, “Force of habit. Plus it’s a good idea in general, ya know, in case someone’s secretly listening in or we mess up some other time.”

Harley shrugged her shoulders. “Makes sense,” and it did, but it still kind of hurt. “You can have the lollipops for dessert though. You like cherry?” She tossed her the red candy.

Lucy looked down at the wrapper a second. “Can’t, I’m allergic to the red dye.”

“Oh,” Harley said, silently cursing herself. That was something that mothers should know about their kids, allergies and crap. “Well. Lemon then?”

“Sure!” They traded the lollipops, and Harley sucked on hers between bites of the pasta. Sweet and savory combined, delicious.

Lucy swung her legs as she sat on the beam. “Does...my father have any allergies?”

Harley blinked at her. Did Joker have any allergies? It was hard to say. Even now, Harley didn’t know a lot about the Joker. That’s how he liked it. “Best not to talk about it,” she said instead, “In case of those listening things or whatever.”

Lucy hummed, but didn’t seem satisfied. “Hey,” Harley said, trying to distract her from the ‘dad’ talk, “You wanna go out with me tomorrow?”

Lucy brightened, jumping a bit, “Where are you gonna go?”

“I dunno,” she said, “Go lookin’ for trouble. Let the trouble find me. Punch out a couple people but only if they REALLY deserve it!” And maybe if they only kinda deserved it, Harley thought.

Lucy hummed again, thinking. “I dunno. I think violence often begets further violence, and while it is occasionally necessary, efforts should focus more on the community building and personal improvement area.”

Harley blinked at her. Right, she was a reader, Delia had mentioned that. Not unlike Harley at her age, really, although Harley had focused on psychoanalysis instead of philosophy. “Ah, of course,” she said, “Well, what do you wanna do?”

Lucy thought for a second. “Well, there was this girl I wanted to go inspire to fight her eating disorder.”

“Oh,” Harley said nodding. It was a noble cause, really, but...also seemed really, really boring. “I...sure!” she smiled.

The truth was, when Lucy came out to live with Harley full time, she had really thought they would be a lady dynamic duo, a proper partnership mother/daughter team. But Lucy wasn’t much like Harley. Or, she was but, she was different, a goody two-shoes. Or, a goody tutu. Ha.

More than that, she followed a strange sense of logic that was oddly reminiscent of...Harley didn’t even finish the thought.

“You don’t want to go, do you?” Lucy asked.

“Hmm? Of course I do!” Harley said, “I’d do anything with you sweetheart,” she gave Lucy a wink, then went to the kitchen to hide her facial expression.

She didn’t see that Lucy had followed her until she was directly behind her. “Oh, Jesus!” She said, clutching her heart, “Gotta look out there, sweetie. Almost brained ya!”

“Is Dad like me at all?” she asked, head tilted to the side.

Harley blinked at her. She felt like her bones were shaking inside her skin. “Why would you ask a thing like that?”

Lucy spun a little in place making her tutu swish. “I’ve been reading about him. People think he’s crazy. I mean, he says it. But that’s not what your records say.”

Harley frowned, backing away as though physical distance would get her out of the conversation. “What’re you goin through my records for? What, are you a snoop?”

“They got published after one of your arrests,” Lucy said, “Other people were more interested in the little notes you left in the margins, but--”

“Alright, stop.” Harley said, hand clutching her lollipop stick so tight it might break. “Look, Mr...your father is mean and cruel and manipulative, and nothing like you! He wants to drive other people crazy, and for some people, self included, he succeded. But I grew out of it as best I could and now...you don’t need to worry about him, ok? He ain’t ever gonna know about ya, and he ain’t ever gonna find ya. Got it?”

Lucy hesitated a second and there was something strange in her eyes. Something familiar. “Got it,” she finally said.

Harley lightened, smiling at her. “Why don’t we play a game or somethin? You like Monopoly? I make up my own rules!”

Lucy smiled, “That sounds nice,” she said, all bright again. As they set up the game, Lucy said, “You don’t have to come with me tomorrow, by the way. I can take care of myself.”

“You sure?” Harley asked. Lucy nodded. For the rest of the evening, Harley felt like something was…off.

She slipped the burner phone out of her pocket. She typed, ‘Wanna set up a playdate?’

“She called it a WHAT?!” Damian said, nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Aww,” Tim said, over by the batcave computer, “Little Damian’s got a plaaayydaaate.”

“I will end you, Drake.” Damian snarled, fingers twitching for his sword.

“Enough,” Bruce interrupted the both of them. “Damian, if it helps you can think of it as a mission.”

“I thought I was forbidden from Robin duties for the next two months.” Damian said, arms crossed.

Bruce groaned. “Harley has taken in a ward, her niece Lucy. She has some petty crime charges, but from my recon, she’s not a villain. Harley wants her to spend time with someone her age, and I need someone who will watch over her.”

“Watch out for her, or watch out because of her?” Damian asked, scowling.

“Oooh, good question,” Tim said, still at the computer. “Hey, how come you didn’t set me up with vigilante kids?”

“Because you found them on your own,” Bruce shot back, “Look. Damian, you just have to spend the day with her. Follow her around, help her out as long as it’s not hurting anyone. Don’t let her get killed. Invite Jon if you want.”

“Uggh, Jon’s off world with his Dad,” Damian said.

“Oh right,” Bruce said, massaging his temple. “Why do interdimensional crises have to happen at the worst times?”

“Why is it we need a plural for interdimensional crisis?” Tim asked.

Bruce gave him a side glance to let him know he was coming up on the line that breached from ‘annoying’ to ‘problem Bruce will deal with.’ “Damian…”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he said, “But I won’t be her friend by you forcing us.”

“Fine.”

They met up with Harley at a neutral location downtown on top of a party goods store. “Hiya Batsy, Hey Bird Boy!”

Despite himself, Damian liked Harley. She was usually of a like mind about which villains did or didn’t deserve to live, but he didn’t tell Batman that. “Harley,” Batman said, “Where’s your niece?”

“Just doin some high-wire practice.” Harley said, “Lucy-goosey!”

From the side of the building, a girl faulted up from where she was hanging on the flagpole. A girl wearing a tutu and white paint. “Nice to meet you, Batman,” Lucy said, “Aunt Harley’s told me….a lot of mixed things.”

“YOU!” Damian said, before he could stop himself, and all three of the others turned to him.

Lucy trotted forward on her tiptoes. “Have we met?” She asked, tilting her head, and looking him up and down.

Damian swallowed. “Uhh….”

“Blackbird!” Lucy said, and swooped him up into a hug, “Oh, I knew you were a Robin, why’d you lie to me?”

“Blackbird, huh?” Batman said, and he couldn’t see, but he knew there was a very pointed eyebrow being raised at him.

Damian, still being swung like a ragdoll by Lucy, tried to gain his balance. “I didn’t...I mean I wasn’t…”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Batman said, “You kids go on, I have something to talk about with Harley.”

“Kids?!” Damian said, offended, especially that he was going to be left out of whatever this conversation was. But in doing so, he left himself vulnerable as Lucy pulled on his cowl to the edge of the building.

“Come on, birdy, whatever color you are. The city awaits!” And she jumped from the roof, grappling on outcroppings to reach the street safely. Damian grumbled, but eventually followed.

Harley looked to Batman, and her face fell. “He’s out there, isn’t he?”

Batman gave one slow nod.

Lucy skipped everywhere. It was very irritating, because it was faster than walking, but slower than running, so hard to keep pace. Also,it was just very perky, which made it hard to sulk.

Lucy claimed she had deliveries to make around town. Something about girls who were bullies in high school and were treating others poorly, but it was only because of the societal pressures that were put on young girls of America and...and thats about where Damian lost interest.

She carried a cartfull of boxes like a damn girlscout, and left them on the girls doors. Damian could have followed in his sleep...except there was something about one of the boxes….

“What’s in that one?” Damian asked as she brought it to the next home.

“Huh?” Lucy said, “Same thing as in all of them, some cookies, a letter, balloons of course and--”

“It’s beeping,” Damian said.

“What?”

Damian didn’t wait any longer, he grabbed the box out of her arms and tossed it as high into the sky as he could, tackling her to the ground. The box then exploded.

Lucy gasped in excitement, clapping her hands together. “Birdy, look at it! It’s fireworks!”

Damian growled, jumping off of her and taking out his sword. “I knew it, I knew you were up to no good.”

Lucy tilted her head. “Whatcha talkin about, Birdy?”

“You--” He pointed to where the box was still smoldering. “You were going to put a BOMB on that girl’s doorstep!”

“I didn’t put that there,” Lucy said, getting up with no care of the sword pointed at her.

“You-” Damian stammered. “What?”

Lucy bent down and picked up a scrap of paper from the ruins. “Change of plans for the evening, Birdy!” Lucy said, “We’re going puzzling!”

She tossed the paper at him and he grabbed it quickly. It read ‘I’ve the tallest of trunks and thickest of stumps, a switch in the breeze, but I’m no tree. What am I?’”

They came quickly to the elephant pasture at the zoo. Damian couldn’t help it, he held out his hand for the elephant. She reached out her trunk and wrapped it around him. He couldn’t help but laugh.

Her baby came forward this time, trotting on new steps. He was already the size of a small horse, but he stole Damian’s heart all the same. He tried to bowl Damian over like a large puppy, and Damian couldn’t help but laugh. “Didn’t know you could laugh, Birdy,” Lucy said, kneeling over a shady patch in the enclosure.

Damian’s scowl returned. “Stop calling me ‘Birdy,’” he said, “You can just say ‘Robin,’ if you want.”

“But aren’t there other Robins?” Lucy said, fiddling with something, “I’d love to call you something unique to you.”

“There’s already a Blackbird, you know.” Damian said, continuing to pet the baby elephant.

“There is?” Lucy asked, “Picking a superhero name is HARD. I’m still trying to get Commedia to stick. You know, like, Commedia del arte? But I’ll end up getting called ‘Tutu girl’ or something if I don’t watch out.”

Damian gently pushed the elephant away, seeing what she was doing. She was hands deep in another box like the one they’d found in her cart. “Careful, it could be another bomb.”

“Fireworks,” Lucy corrected, “and I already diffused it.”

Damian leaned down, looking. She had indeed done so, quite efficiently. “How did you know to do that?”

Lucy smiled, “An uncle of mine taught me. You’ll meet him.” She dug further into the box. “I wouldn’t mind some more fireworks, but I don’t want to scare the elephants.” She pulled out another slip of paper.

“This has all the hallmarks of The Riddler,” Damian said, “We have to be careful. He might have bombs all over the city.”

“Fireworks!” Lucy corrected again, “And, probably. See, we already have the next clue!” She waved the paper and read out “Can you hear me make a sound, only when you are around.”

“Of course you can only hear things when you’re around.” Damian said, frowning.

“But only when someone’s around does it make a...Oh!” Lucy said, jumping to her feet, “An echo! We have to go somewhere there’s an echo!”

Damian sighed, “I have an idea.”

Technically they weren’t IN the Bat cave. They were at a far entrance to it, another end of the cave system. So he wasn’t breaking any rules. “Hey, is that Wayne Manor?” Lucy asked. “I tried to break in there once, but they have some crazy rich person security system.”

“Funny that.” Damian said, trying to seem completely ordinary.

Lucy stood at the edge of the cave and yelled into it. “ECHO!” listening for the echo in return. She skipped into the cave, humming all the way, the sound bouncing off as she went.

“Lucy?” Damian said, following her, “Don’t go too far, there’s all sorts of--” He heard a squeal and rushed forward.

He stopped short, his flashlight falling on Lucy. She waved at him to put it down, squinting. “Look here!” She brushed aside some dirt to find some rusted over metal. “Isn’t it fascinating! This cave system must go on for miles! Maybe people hid treasure there!”

“It’s just the old mining system,” Damian said, truthfully. “It’s all blocked off.”

“That can’t be hard to undo,” Lucy said, intrigued by whatever lay beyond.

Damian grabbed her hand before she could continue. “We have to catch the Riddler. There has to be another package here.”

Lucy sighed, but nodded. She took his arm with the flashlight and swung him around the cave. “Ah! There.”

She took the package and skipped out of the cave. “Careful!” Damian urged. “Come on, just diffuse it.”

“Nope, not these ones.” She tossed the package high in the sky, and Damian saw the fireworks light up.

He felt his phone buzzing, no doubt Tim could hear an explosion out here, not to mention Alfred. They’d come investigating fast enough. He leaped up, grabbing the fallen slip of paper, and grabbed Lucy again to pull her along. He read it quickly and passed it to her as he made his way away. “Even in the city scape, nature comes to take its place.” Lucy read. “It must be the park!”

“No,” Damian said, still pulling her, “I mean, yes, that is the answer to the riddle, but that’s not where we’re going.” He texted the police to inform them of the location of the hidden package so they could diffuse it, and dragged Lucy away.

The original Gotham Ice Cream shop was one of the oldest remaining buildings in Gotham, although was clearly closed for the night.

Damian saw a flash of green from the kitchens and rushed inside, finding none other than the Riddler standing there. “Stand down, Riddler,” Damian said, holding out his sword, “We’ve got you now!”

Riddler snarled, backing into a defensive stance. “Robin! How did you possibly find me?”

Damian smirked, “The beginning of each clue was clearly spelling out your final location. I-C-E. I didn’t need to follow 5 more clues to figure that out.”

Riddler cursed. “Those clues weren’t for you! They were for--!”

Lucy came skipping up to join Damian. “Hi, Uncle Eddy!”

“Lucille!” Riddler said, immediately warming. “I had so many sights around Gotham for you to see, why’d you go skipping to the end?”

Lucy skipped up to him, and Damian was once again left dumbfounded. “My friend Birdy here isn’t much for riddles, I think,” she said, “Although he enjoyed the elephants! And he knew about the mining carts in the caves, I want to explore those later.”

‘Uncle Eddy’ hugged Lucy, and Damian came to his senses, “THIS is your uncle?!”

Lucy shrugged, “I mean, that’s what I call him. I met him when I was visiting Aunt Harley a few years ago.”

“I heard you had moved to Gotham full time,” Riddler said, “I wanted to be sure you saw the sights. But the bat-brats have to ruin everything I suppose.” Riddler glared at him, and he glared right back.

“I don’t-” Damian started, but cut himself off, “You can’t just be leaving BOMBS around the city!”

“Fireworks!” Lucy and Riddler both corrected.

“Whatever! They’re explosive and they’re dangerous!” Damian hated having to be the safety one. It felt wrong.

Riddler rolled his eyes. “He’s just as much a barrel of laughs as the big one.”

“Aw, he’s sweet, really,” Lucy said, coming over to Damian and linking their arms. “Aunt Harley and Batman set us up on our own little playdate.”

“It is NOT!” Damian said, squirming away from her, “It is NOT a playdate.”

“Uncle Eddy, can my friend Birdy have some Ice Cream too?” Lucy asked, ignoring him.

Riddler and Damian glared again. “Fine.” He pushed his own bowl of ice cream towards Damian and went to get his own. “It’s MYSTERY flavor!”

Damian looked at it hesitantly as Lucy sat down to enjoy. Riddler went back to the kitchen. “It’s coconut,” Lucy said, “But Uncle Eddy likes to think it’s a mystery, so I let him.”

Damian frowned at her. “You’re really weird.”

“Thank you!” Lucy said, patting the seat beside her. “Come on, even you had to admit you had fun today.”

Damian thought about the elephants, and skipping around with Lucy, and watching the fireworks at the mouth of the cave, and seeing her all excited about mining carts for some reason. “Fine,” he said, “But it’s NOT a playdate.”

“Alright, alright,” Lucy said, digging into her ice cream. “Just a regular date then.”

“I--” Damian started, his head exploding with so many protests that he ended up just short circuiting. Lucy continued chowing down on ice cream like she didn’t say anything of importance. So, Damian just sat beside her, and ate his own.

#lucy quinzel #damian wayne #batman #harley quinn #dc fanfic

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bevvydraws · 3 years

Text

Just gonna leave this here:

I haven’t seen any of season 4 yet. I don’t care much about spoilers so i’ve been kinda second-hand viewing the series for a while now. And I think it’s because i’m slowly falling out of love with the canon :(

Now the fan content? I love it. So much. I will never not love the concept of Miraculous Ladybug. But the canon just isn’t it for me anymore. I understand that it’s a “kids show”, but it’s a kids show is that is deliberately trying to appeal to the older audience while remaining kid-friendly and it just isn’t working for me.

So many things are rushed, a lot of things just don’t make sense, and I just don’t have the same connection to the show as I used to.

It could honestly be my hyperfixation finally running out, but i dunno.

I just feel like all of the characters deserve better than what the writing is giving them right now.

Yeah Marinette has Alya, but she also feels like she can’t pursue anyone romantically and blames herself for hurting the people she cares about.

The Adrien/Chat explosion that’s bound to happen because Rena is bumped up in rank.

Them trying to shoehorn Zoe in.

Etc. Etc.

I’m still going to create for ML, and I might fall in love with the show again (i doubt it but hey), but right now I just don’t click with the canon.

And before anyone says anything: no it has nothing to do with Lukanette. While it IS ridiculous they’d build up to it for so long only to sink it in one episode, theres soooo much more wrong with the show than just that.

Anyways, i just felt like i kinda had to get that off my chest.

TLDR: ML fandom has my whole heart, but the canon is just not it for me

#bevvy talks #ml spoilers #ml salt

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fluffypeachwriting · 3 years

Note

Hitoya deserves love, can i request senario when a fem so is upset because she saw a woman (works with Hitoya in office) clinging to him like a leach and reader, please make it from angst to fluff

I don’t know if the ending counts as fluff, but it’s still a happy ending ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ I hope I can do Hitoya justice as he can be kinda hard to write for, especially with angst, which isn’t my forte as of now (シ_ _)シ This was a fun writing experience though, and I’m happy to get your request!

Either way, I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry you had to wait so long for this (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

A new employee at Hitoya’s law firm seemed to take a liking to your boyfriend. It started with a few flirty lines, and nothing more. Hitoya never responded to them, and that was fine. He probably didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. The whole situation was easy to brush it off in the beginning, since you were well aware of how attractive Hitoya was, and that anyone could be under his spell.

The woman in question knew about your relationship with Hitoya too. The two of you weren’t super affectionate in public, especially at work, but she definitely saw the way you lovingly looked at him when he brought you a coffee and some cake during your shift, and the way he softly smiled back at you. After all, she sat right across from you. She would wait a few minutes, tapping her nails on the table, and eventually get up to go to his office. Then, after purposefully leaving the door just open enough for you to see, she would perch on his desk and laugh at every word he said, putting her fingertips to her lips in a faux-shy kind of way. The sight made your heart leap up your throat and thump in your ears.

The worst part was that she was pretty cute, looks wise. If you didn’t know anything about her personality, you would have compared her to the sexy love interest option in an anime. She made office wear look good, and you never saw her look undignified. Sometimes she leaned towards a femme fatale-type. That idea was constantly reinforced every time she placed her hand on Hitoya’s arm, playfully swatting at him when he got grouchy, and batted her eyelashes when she wanted something from him.

If she was doing this to literally any other person in the office – hell, some people there would kill to have this woman dote on them – you would probably find it funny. Her attempts at ‘seducing’ him were bordering on comical.

This whole charade wasn’t private. The office was getting annoyed too. Not by you, of course. The woman was pretty good at her little admin job, so any chance of getting her out of the office relied on her stepping over the line with Hitoya.

Hitoya continued to ignore this woman, but he never shooed her away or told her to stop. There was a tiny voice in the back of your mind, whispering nasty ideas into your head – the possibility that Hitoya was actually enjoying this attention couldn’t be shaken off.

One night, as you were both in bed, you rolled over and asked: “Hitoya, do you love only me?”

He replied, without turning to face you: “Hn? ‘Course, whaddya mean?”

“I just… the new girl at work is kinda clingy with you. Can you tell her to knock it off?”

“She’s not hurting anyone.”

You sat up in bed and rested your hands in your lap, hesitant to look at Hitoya. “Wait, so you’re gonna defend her? But she’s clearly into you. She knows we’re a thing and… please just tell her to quit it.”

There was a momentary silence, and in the dark room you could almost see the woman in front of you, doing her typical sly giggle. Maybe she had already won.

“You’re worrying over nothing. Go to sleep, you’re probably stressed and tired. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

But it had been many mornings since this all began. The clock read 9:45pm. It was too late to go out for fresh air now, and you had work in the morning.

“Okay, goodnight.” You laid back down in bed and laid on your side, facing away from your partner.

“Goodnight.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying, and waited until you could hear Hitoya’s light snoring before feeling relaxed enough to fall asleep.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. There was a note on your bedside table – Hitoya had gone to work early to prep for a few new prospect hires visiting.

Phew! Maybe that woman wouldn’t have to opportunity to bother him today.

Maybe today would be the start of some normality: with everyone keeping an eye on the visitors, most people wouldn’t be too keen on messing around. As you made some food and coffee, you updated yourself on the work group chat. There wasn’t much of it that concerned you, but seeing people’s elaborate excuses on why they couldn’t come in was amusing. That is, until you saw a message from that woman.

There was a selfie of her in the conference room, with Hitoya in the back, occupied with some papers, with the caption: ‘About to teach some newbies what’s up! Kya ahahaha!’

It was hard not to throw up your breakfast. Getting dressed was a struggle, since you wanted to punch every surface in the room.

They were alone in a room, without you. She could be saying god knows what to him, well aware that you wouldn’t be in for at least another hour.

Rushing to get ready and go to the office was an option, but what good would it do?

All you could picture was Hitoya staring down at you, as you burst through the door, dishevelled from rushing there, chiding you for imagining what you said this woman was doing.

When you came to your senses, you were in the office, bursting through the door, just as you didn’t want to do.

“Hey, Boss?” The receptionist said, looking concerned.

“…Yeah? Where’s Hitoya? And why’d you call me ‘Boss’?”

“You’re basically also our boss too. And I dunno where Boss Boss is but, are you okay? Are you like, super tired?” The receptionist gestured to his clothes, implying that something was wrong with yours.

And there was. Because you were not in your work clothes at all. You had come to the office in a hoodie and sweatpants. In your rush to get ready, you had forgotten about looking presentable.

“Oh shit.”

“Hey, Boss. I know it was an accident, if you slip out and come back soon, I’ll just tell people there was traffic. I got your back.”

“Thanks.” You sighed, thankful that someone was on your side for once.

Right as you turned to leave, a piercing laugh came from the conference room entrance. One that was all too recognisable.

‘Of course she had to see this. Just my luck,’ you thought.

Her heels click-clacked as she came closer.

“Oh sweetie, this is just too much! You think that just because you’re banging the Boss man you can show up in whatever clothes you want? What a pathetic little weirdo…” She looked at the receptionist for agreement but he had turned around in second-hand embarrassment.

You were too miserable to try and act polite to her. You’d had enough. All of that jealously that had been bubbling inside you for what felt like years had finally spilled over.

“Why don’t you keep your nose out of our business for once!? You know we’re in a relationship, so why don’t you just fuck off and leave him alone!? If you’re gonna try and sleep around at least go for single people, you freak!” As you raised your voice, tears started streaming down your face. You didn’t care that it made you look even more of a mess. “The only reason we keep you around here is because you’re good at your job! You belong in hell, you demon!”

No more words could properly express how fed up you were, how much you wanted this woman out of sight. Your hands were clutched tight to your chest, which hurt more by the second. You kept your eyes focused on the floor in fear of her reaction. It wasn’t likely that she’d do a 180 and take pity on you.

Instead, you did a 180 and ran out of the building. You could barely see where you were going, but you knew where you wanted to go.

One turn left, a few crossings straight ahead, a couple of right turns, and you were where you and Hitoya had your first ‘date’: a bench next to a vending machine.

That day, he had planned to take you to a fancy restaurant, but it started raining so hard that you had to take shelter in a convenience store for a while, and ended up missing your reservation. When the sky cleared, Hitoya gave you his jacket to shield you from future showers, and bought a couple of drinks to share. The indirect kiss you shared on that canned coffee gave you the strongest butterflies you’d ever felt.

You wanted to feel that same sunshine on your face as then, and see the same rainbow as then, but the sky was cloudy today. Sitting on the bench with your cheeks resting on your fists, you tried to force your mind back into that honeymoon phase. It all seemed so much simpler then, like nothing could stand between you two. Now everything was dreary. Now it was just you, the pit in your stomach, this convenience store, and passers-by.

Someone was walking a hyper-active dog that tried to jump at you. A lady with a small child asked if you were alright, which was nice. A few teens were out looking to cause trouble, though you didn’t care. A group of kids were meticulously counting their money out loud, and yes, they did have enough money to get a soda and a steamed bun. All of these people, going about their lives, reminded you that even in these times where your world was turning upside down, the rest of the world would go on. Even the guy going on a run was just doing his thing. You didn’t look up, but you could hear him running, then stopping just outside the store.

“There you are.” A familiar deep voice said in-between pants.

Your head snapped up. “Hitoya!?”

Hitoya was there, his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

“I heard what happened from Yamashita, at the front desk. I knew where you’d be. She’s gone. You don’t need to worry about her anymore.”

“What?”

“That woman. She’s gone. I kicked her out of the firm. I’m sorry for letting it get to this point.” Hitoya flopped beside you on the bench and took your hands in his. He sounded award, like he was having a conversation that was long overdue. “It was messed up on my end to not say anything. I just figured out that that was worse than doing something. I… You know you’re the only one I have eyes for, you know that? I know I don’t say this romantic sappy stuff a lot, but uh, you’re always what I look forward to seeing, like, you’re really cute right now, even in those clothes. I kinda wanna cuddle you. Hey, let’s take the rest of the day off and go home and do that, yeah?”

You were too stunned to reply with words. It was like a dream come true. That toxic bitch was out of your life, and you didn’t have to see her again. Hitoya was yours, and he was ready to confess – in public, no less – that he really did love you.

After a minute of collecting your thoughts, you replied in a croaky voice: “Yeah, let’s go home. To our home.”

Where no-one could come between you.

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #hitoya amaguni #hitoya x reader #bad ass temple #reader insert #request #imagine

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decayandfanfics · 3 years

Text

The great book of sayings

PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x FemReader

SUMMARY: He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed on yours, burning a hole through your head, every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.A clever girl. He thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing himself in the very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset. He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment many times from now on.A clever pretty girl.

Reader is a typical college student until she gets herself tangled with the league of villains.

WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, violence, Tomura being Tomura, mentions of murder, heroes’ abuse of power, smut, dirty talking.

A/N: This chapter is shameless smut, you are warned. Minors do not interact. go and read a book or something.

Any misspelled words, english is not my native language so i’m trying Helen.As always, let me know what you think!

________________________________________________

Chapter 14 / Chapter 15

Lovers ever run before the clock.

Overhaul really is just an uptight pretentious asshole, but Tomura lets his insulting remarks slide, trying his utter best not to snap.

He was supposed to be in a good mood today, but by the time Chronostasis puts the gun against his white locks, he swears that he will do anything in his power to completely ruin Shie Hassakai for this mess, already struggling to keep his temper at bay.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all.”

He’s never one to get distracted but it is difficult to stay focus when he cannot erase the feeling of her thighs caging his hips, her words rumbling inside his brain like a prayer for him to come back and take what’s already his.

It enrages him far more than he would like to admit, but he can’t go back if he gets killed, can’t he?

Luckily for them, Tomura kinda lacks that self-preservation impulse at the face of danger, so he stays there completely stoic and delightfully petty between Chisaki and the gun. The thought of her crying because he got his pretty brains scattered all over the Shie Hassakai immaculate floor makes him realize that he has yet another reason to hate Overhaul.

Really, what’s the matter with these people? they just keep adding points to their list, but sure, he will work with what he has (as always) by sending Toga and Twice into their ranks to gain some reliability after Chisaki told him about this ridiculous plan of curing society of quirks like it’s an illness.

And he thought que was an extremist.

It’s a dumb concept, really. People decide to be assholes, to be heroes, villains and such. There is a choice in excluding those like him from society meanwhile hero violence is idolized. But quirks? People don’t get to choose. Shit just happens. You can develop a cute little nice quirk that allows you to make bubbles or something ridiculous like, dunno, destroying everything you touch; but people can help it, it’s just the way it is. Nobody asks for it. Not even Overhaul, not even him.

And, even when Tomura can understand what Overhaul is saying about society being unfair based on quirks, his plan still sounds pretty nonsensical to him, who wants to destroy everything with his own hands, after all is that why he was born with such deadly weapon at the reach of his fingers. It would be nothing short but hypocritical and, despite the irony, he likes to think of himself as an honest person. His goal clashes directly with Overhaul’s, so no, he will keep the league interests to himself and for now will trust Toga and Twice to do what they do best without rising any suspicion about what he’s up to. Chisaki is more stupid tan he looks if he thinks Tomura will make blind eye to the audacity of his challenge and his continuous lack of propriety.

Oh, poor Overhaul. He doesn’t know it yet, but he already lost.

In the meantime, he’ll keep himself busy on more important and exciting matters. Hating Overhaul is something he can use as a motivation for more than just inner monologue, because you see, Tomura has a revenge to plan and a truck to steal.

_____________

Things are different next time he sees you. Something primal and strange born from a sick sense of belonging that fills your interactions after the night you slept together, soothing his temper and bitterness into something warmer and far more intense that pulls and twist and burns to be close to each other.

It's been four days since they left the apartment to prepare the backhand against Overhaul and Tomura is sure that by that hour tomorrow Overhaul will have failed, leaving him as the great winner of his sensei’s title. (Not that he ever needed to prove it, but if Overhaul wanted to pick a fight, he would not be the one to deny his wishes.)

Tonight, however, has nothing to do with all that, not when he’s finally back.

You’ve been waiting for his return by the window, searching for his frame in every shadow, a mug of chocolate warming your hands as the soup simmered over the stove. A warm meal made for him every night in case he decided to return, guessing he would be hungry and cold, wondering if it isn’t too much (but you care for him, so you do it anyway).

A supposition that turned out to be true, but Tomura had another solution in mind.

He’s a starving dog all hunger and demand, a wild vicious thing that looks at you feral and maddened, dripping with want and something far scarier that you don’t dare to name (but you do know, don’t you?).

You are no better than him, not when your fingers had traced patterns with his name across your body, spelling dreams and fantasies from your lips, remembering the way his fingers filled you and you wonder if he touched himself thinking about you too. The answer comes rather messy the moment his jagged mouth whimpers how much he missed you between whispers and moans that to you sound like poetry.

And he takes and takes and takes with deaf hands and sharp teeth, leaving bruises with the shape of his fingertips burned all over you as he bites and scratch and pull-out whimpers and pants from your mouth that echoes the frantic tune of his heart slamming against his ribs because he missed you so much it was painful.

So, he had kissed you feverish, stomping you against the wall desperate and needing for your attention until you had pull him by the neck of his shirt to drag him into the bedroom, his brain completely forgetting about Overhaul’s existence the moment you push him to the edge of the mattress to sit in his lap, pulling the hem of his shirt for him to take it off, too focused in the heat prints your hands leave on his pale shoulders as something roars inside of his chest urging him to imprint his existence on your skin and possess the being that lives inside your bones.

Tomura paints a plethora of purple kisses over your neck and chest as a mark of his touch and your belonging. Something dark and twisted reverbing inside his ribs, inside his brain.

Mine; his mind repeats over and over again until he’s dizzied from the words, drunk in touch as your hands slither all over his sides, his chest and shoulders. His eyes marveling in the way skin holds together every angle of your flesh and the parts where your bones show from inside of your figure when he finally takes off your dress.

So soft, so beautiful and all his.

His kisses become raw and sharp and painful like the electric bond that ties you together by the ribs, all roughness and need, bruising lips and sinking teeth. Your moans and pants mixing now and then with some pained yelps and hisses of his name to call out on his harshness, but he chooses to make deaf ears to your pleas, too busy trying to gorge on your taste.

His teeth sink on your skin leaving marks like crescent moons that he kisses after you cry, pleasure and need pooling between your thighs, a tightness that burn inside your belly as you tangle your fingers in his hair, thinking briefly between the fog of your thoughts that it has grown, that it looks painfully beautiful on him like a crown of silver and moonlight.

Soon enough your legs lock around his bony hips, the choir of soft mewls and pants has become something far more animal; cries filling the room with each touch. White underwear remaining as the last barrier to your skin, leaving a wet stain over the fabric of his jeans.

The room turns unbearable warm as your kisses become more slopy and open, letting him take your mouth just how he likes it as he registers the way the skin of your torso presses against his bare chest, your warmth spreading over, suffocating him.

Hooking a finger on your bra cup, Tomura pulls down and reveals the flesh hidden under the layers of lace, deciding already that this is his favorite image of you. Covered in love marks, wet and underwear ruined, your bra tucked under the curb of your breast. Something obscene and desperate about it, more crude than mere nakedness and it’s exactly how he likes it.

It looks lewd, it looks nasty. It looks like everything he wants to make of you, so he tightens his hold on your waist, making your back curve a little up to latch his mouth to your breast, sucking hard enough to draw a loud moan from your lips as you dig your nails on the muscle of his arms, delight shooting through your spine.

“Ow…fuck…” you pant with each pull of his mouth, and he chuckles darkly against your chest, amused and smug because he has you and he knows it, a sinister part of him (the vengeful scary one that wants to kill and maim and destroy) screaming that you belong to him from now on, that you’ll never leave, that he’ll never let you.

Mine, and mine alone he thinks and the thought sounds jarring and loud inside his head as he leaves bruises all over the skin that surround the buds of your chest, making you gasp over his lap.

“What? Wanna say something?” Tomura teases watching your expression, your eyes going wide the moment he slides your panties to the side and press his fingers inside you without warning.

“T-oh…Tomura…fuck…ow” you try to articulate but the words come out as blurred whispers.

“No bickering now?”

“Oh god…Tomura…please” you cry trembling, mouth watering with every touch of his palm over your nerve.

“Please what.”

You hide your face on the crook of his neck to bite him hard enough to make him bark an excited laugh, rejoicing in the fact that you are marking him too, before hooking his fingers inside you to make you moan loudly; hips moving automatically as one of your hands reach the hem of his pants and unbuttons his jeans to touch him back.

“I want you inside.”

He lets out a pretty hiss the moment your fist close around his length, caressing him tentatively until finding a pace, giving you a little victory over his rough teasing.

“I wanna tear you apart” he growls reaching deep inside of you, a wolf like grin slicing across his face baring his sharp teeth “you are a mess. All wet and begging for me to fuck you.”

“Tomura…”

“Fuck…you are so wet, all for me…my good girl, my good girl.” The words pour out of his mouth in feverish tone as his other hand clear the hair off your face before catching your lips on his again.

“Tomura, please…”

He snaps, turning you onto the mattress to climb over your body, throwing his jeans to the floor before leaning between your thighs as his hardness brushes over your clothed center. His patience has run thin though, so he yanks the panties by one side, closing all five fingers over the piece of fabric that flews to the floor before transforming into dust.

He lines up with your center, feeling the intimate touch before thrusting deep into you, ripping out a high moan that makes your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving scratching marks all over his pale skin in an attempt to steady yourself as your walls burn with the stretching.

No, he isn’t gentle this time, he just can’t bring himself to be soft when he feels like the awful infatuation he’s been harboring inside is about to tear his ribs open, pouring out for everyone to see the bloody mess you’ve made of his heart. So, he thrust hard like punishing you for it, snaping his hips fast and deep into you, trying to leave a bruise mark inside as well as one of his hands tangles between your hair, pulling and making you scream to the rhythm of your creaking bed.

He bottoms out the moment his arm hooks under your knee, as you tangle your other leg over his waist, giving him deepest access into you, his tip planting kisses against your cervix, rough friction and raw closeness sending you over the edge because he’s fucking you hard, making sure your screaming can be heard from the hall of the building.

It's brutal, yet you give him everything he wants and more because you like it like this, you like it because is him. The warmth of his body covering yours and you wonder if he can feel it too.

The terrific need of holding onto his body, his wicked smile, his bruised heart. The horror of your attachment to a person like him and what this represents, at the brim of ruining your life for love…

Love.

You are so in love with him.

“Look at me” he demands pulling your hair, a feral snarl across his sharp face darkening his features before kissing you hard, his tongue filling your mouth in lewd motion. “Fuck, you are so tight…I wanna split you in half.” His voice is a coarse and maddened sound against your lips, so close and intimate it’s scary because he’s sinking so deep it feels like he’s trying to rearrange your insides and his words do nothing but intensify the heat.

“Fuck…Tomura…it hurst…you’re so rough…so rough” You manage to blurt out, eyes boring into his.

“And you love it, don’t you?” he snarls tightening the grip on your hair. “You like how it feels…like I’m gonna split your pretty cunt in two. Huh? Say it, say it…”

“Fuck…yes…yes”

“Yes what.” He barks in a particularly harsh thrust that makes you scream like a wildling.

“I love it…fuck…like that…I love it…I love it.”

“You are mine…you hear me?” he prays over your mouth half ordering, half begging for you to go down with it and say that yes, that you’ll never leave him, that you’ll stay with him “All mine to fuck, mine, mine, mine, MINE!” he growls with every thrust as the bed slams hard against the wall until you are a babbling incoherent mess.

His brutal pace and words get you quiet soon, too much to even make a sound and hardly even allowing you to breathe, too concentrated in the feeling of his length and him smashing into your ending wall as the overwhelming touch of his hips and his abdomen on yours burns your skin.

The brush of his hair and ragged breathing fanning over your cheek is the only compass of time while the tightness in your belly threatens to snap the moment your teary eyes meet his, mouth on mouth without even kiss, but you smile to him, your warm hand caressing softly the skin of his jaw as he tears into you, feeling incapable of telling him what the voice of your mind has been playing over and over again.

I’m in love with you.

Like sensing your thoughts, his hands abandon your hair. Four trembling fingers cuddling your cheek, carefully and almost scared before closing his eyes, letting his forehead rest on yours as he whispers sweet words of praise only for you to keep, still forcing himself in and out of you. His mouth watering to the sight of your bouncing breast still trapped by your bra.

“ow…I’m gonna..Tomura…I’m gonna…”

The snap of his hips become erratic when finally you come undone on him, eyes rolling back and a cry that tears your throat open when your walls clench around his hardness making him moan as he keeps thrusting in and out, reaching his own end soon after; his hand closing tightly into a fist over the mattress as he grunts with his face hidden on the crook of your neck, filling you warm and slick until he goes soft inside of you.

Tomura pulls out and rests his head on your chest, his heart hammering against your belly, still trying to catch his breath; his fingers tracing mindless patterns over the shape of your waist, as your hands slide between the tangled locks of silver, lips laying little pecks over his crown.

Time slows down, minutes passing and quiet settles, he notices.

Quiet inside of him.

This is all he wanted from the moment he crossed the umbral of your door months ago. The insufferable itch silenced by the calming thump of your heart, fluttering softly behind the gate of your ribs and he wonders if maybe you’d have a room by your core where he could lay his bones to finally rest for a minute from all the rage and hate that burdens him.

Maybe you do have one, hidden and unspoken, a mirror of the one you occupy in the graveyard of his chest where he holds you beautiful and bright and…everything he doesn’t get to hate.

Yeah, he thinks you do. After all, he’s lying in your arms, isn’t it? You had caressed his face and marked his neck and back, all teeth and nails, to then crown him with a wreath of kisses, your body soft and still under his weight, while your hands brush carefully through his scalp.

He knows the feeling, he’s not stupid…but he doesn’t get to speak its name yet.

Is not that bad, after all. Being attached to you and the lullaby of your heartbeat could make him better, smarter, stronger. You could be another reason to fight and destroy. After all, in a society as rotten as this one, you’ll never be allowed to walk by his side if not by putting a bounty on your head too.

What the media would say about you? Would they catalog you as an S class villain? since your quirk is as deadly as it gets, you would be feared and hated. You can practically kill by just looking at someone and he’s not even sure if you really need to look to your target, after all.

And yet you are the kindest person he knows. If someone of the hero commission knew about this, you’d be hunted down despite your service as a doctor, despite your resolution to help whoever needs it, despite caring for those rotten and downthrown. And since you are critical of the system, you’d be reduced to just another animal to put down. Just like him.

Tomura swears he’ll decay every single person on the world before let that happen.

“Tomura…”

He rises his head to look at you, a question drawn across his face.

“Can you…move a little? My bra is killing me.”

“Ow…sorry about that.” He apologizes, curious eyes over the mark that the elastic has left over your skin as he sits by your side.

“Can you help me? I can’t reach the clip…”

“Sure…”

You bend over to give him better access to your back, feeling his fingers brush over your skin carefully, before liberating you from the elastic straps incrusted on your flesh.

Tomura leans forward, placing soft kisses between your shoulder blades, letting his forehead rest over your spine and the touch is so sweet that it makes you wonder if maybe he does feel the same as you.

You get your answer when his hand moves forward to cup your breast, middle finger carefully up, as the other slides down between your thighs, making you sigh, feeling his hardness brushing your hip.

He nuzzles against your cheek, until you turn to kiss him deeply, warmth pooling between your legs again as his fingers play lazy between your slick entrance and the bundle of nerves. This time though, you take your chance and turn over, sitting on top before taking his wrist to lay kisses over the soft skin of his pulse.

Your quirk flares alive and before Tomura gets to catch on your intentions, his hands stand secured high against the headboard.

“What the…ow fuck!” He moans the moment your hand close over his length, pumping until he’s losing his breath, a ragged laugh scaping his jagged lips “fuck…you are an evil woman.”

“I should be proud if you say so.”

You accommodate over him, lowering until he fills you, pushing his previous release deeper into you.

Your pacing is torturingly slow and intense, soft moans and sweet whispers between languid kissed. Tomura watches hypnotized how your hips ride over the place you two connect, his crimson eyes half lidded as he lets you take him, before finally releasing your hold.

He touches you carefully this time, palming over the curve of your hipbone and your belly, index finger up as he wonders how deep is he, trying to feel himself from the outside, before pushing down to sink deeper into you, hitting the fragile spot where he makes you cry.

“I like you like this…” he speaks softly, looking you up from behind his eyelashes as you ride him slowly.

“How” your word is a whisper against his lips.

“Bare…” he rasps, his voice luring you into his embrace, spilling sweet nothing into his ear as he mumbles over and over again.

“My good girl…you are so good for me…”

This time you reach your peak softly. A sweet thing that fills you gently; walls fluttering around his oversensitive length while you keep rocking him until he stuffs you again, finally both falling back into the mattress side to side, already drifting into sleep, both tired and content.

A light touch catches your attention before falling unconscious. Tomura´s pinky hooks on yours as a silent plea, so you spill a peck over his shoulder before resting your temple on it, a sweet gesture that makes his heart tremble with fear and excitement for all the right reasons.

So, he does what he wants, sliding his arm under your neck and moving your head to rest on his chest. Over his heart he lays a fist for you to grip gently by the wrist before finally crowning you with soft kisses as the steady beat of his heart lulls you to dream.

Chapter 16 (soon)

#shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #bnh fanfic #self insert #shigaraki tomura #tenko shimura #shigaraki x you

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