#So they must have let us break through a little. Shit is fuckin' crazy.

[angel---eater]

The last couple of days have been so fucking weird. Long and complicated story short: dissociative amnesia disorders are one of the strangest things to live with I can conceptionalize. A very prominent guy came back in our partner system after being Hashtag Missing for years(?). Turns out he's been here since they were at least 4, and he and I (who I thought had also been Hashtag Missing for most of our 12 year relationship) have apparently been fronting together for who knows how long on and off. What the actual fuck is DID anymore.

I'm kind of terrified of messing this up by going too fast, but I know I wont let myself do that. I'd rather step in a bear trap than cross a boundary. I think past-me missed him a lot. Past-me who is also current-me. But at the same time feels like a slightly different person because these memories are hanging above my head instead of being in my head right now. God this shit is weird. I definitely know him though, his voice hasn't changed at all. Really I just want to do what he wants to do. I'm just curious as all hell about this. I want to know myself better, and I want to relearn him. Cause the person in my memories is super famililar, but whenever we've talked or I've listened to him talk, I get hit with the big ol' emotional amnesia barrier. God DID is weird.

[schrijverr]

How to Survive Gotham as a Goon

Late one evening, a goon is there to witness his boss – Red Hood – shoot at Robin. Which means he goes through the five stages of grief as he imagines all the ways Batman will skin them, trying to get Red Hood to stop before it’s too late, which only leaves him with more questions.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: references to violence & gun shots

~~~~

Joseph does not want to die. He especially does not want to die at the hands of Batman. It might seem unlikely that that will ever happen, even if Joseph is a henchman, however watching his boss whip out a gun to shoot at Robin, he knows it might only be a matter of time.

It’s kind of the unspoken rule of the goon and henchpeople underworld to not hurt the kid in a way that’s permanent. While the big villains don’t keep to that rule, Joseph had hoped that Red Hood, with all his rules surrounding children, would be different.

However, all that hope is snuffed out when the two of them are taking a smoke break and Hood spots the kid on a warehouse across from their own.

Joseph is immediately on guard as he goes to scan around for the Batman, despite knowing it’s quite useless. But Hood stiffens in anger and screams: “You!” as points at Robin.

The giggle Robin lets out is heard easily as it echoes across the yard. It sends shivers down Joseph’s spine. He knows Robin is just a kid, but all goons and henchpeople have learned to fear the sound of that laugh and it isn’t any less intimidating when he can see the kid giving them a jaunty wave.

Hood’s street instincts must be broken, though, because he doesn’t do any of the things you’re supposed to, instead scrambling for his gun. Joseph is so in shock that he doesn’t even stop him when the first few shots ring out.

Across from them, Robin back flips away from where he was just sat, thankfully not getting hit by any of the bullets.

Robin starts to run and Hood follows him with a spray of bullets, yeering loudly: “Yeah, fucker, ya better run! Ya better fuckin’ run! If ya ever pull tha’ shit again, I’m killin’ you. Killin’ you! Ya hear me?”

Joseph gathers his senses and against the better instinct of keeping his boss on his side, jumps Hood, pushing his gun away as he exclaims: “Are you crazy!?” while Robin disappears over the rooftops.

Hood pushes him off and Joseph lets him, though he likely couldn’t have stopped Hood even if he wanted to, the man is built like a brick house. “What’re you onnabout?” Hood frowns, like he truly doesn’t realize who he just shot at.

“You shootin’ at Robin,” Joseph exclaims. “Do you have any idea the kind of carnage ya would’ve brought down on us if ya’d hit ‘im?”

“What?” Hood asks, sounding truly confused and a little taken aback.

“Do you really not know? By your accent I would’ve sworn ya were from ‘round these parts,” Joseph replies, more confused than normal by his enigma of a boss.

“Well, I’ve been outta the loop for a bit,” Hood grouches. “Explain.”

“I mean, most of the big fish don’t keep to it, but it’s common knowledge to not hurt Robin too bad unless ya want the big Bat to rock your shit,” Joseph explains. “I was already in the henchin’ business when the little guy first hit the street. Course we were all wary of ‘im but what ya gonna do? Fight a little kid?”

Hood lets out a bitter snort, commenting: “Yeah, who’d do that.”

Joseph isn’t sure where that comes from and hesitates for a second, then cautiously goes on: “But the kid was good, better than any of us thought. Fuckin’ embarrassing tha’ was. So we started fighin’ back a little, ya know. Actually punching the kid here and there. It was Jimmy who first truly hurt the kid.”

“Wait, Vegetable Jim?” Hood asks.

“Yeah, isn’t a vegetable anymore. Sonnabitch’s damn lucky that Wayne Enterprises offers compensation for those hurt while working, including hench work,” Joseph laughs a little bashful and awkward. “He clipped the kid with a baseball bat, broke his arm. God, I never heard a kid wail like that,” Joseph grimaces at the memory. “What’s worse is that the kid called for his dad. His dad.”

“Wait, tell me more,” Hood asks, sounding gleeful now, which weirds Joseph out a little. “Like was it super pathetic? Did he really just break his arm, nothing more?”

“No, nothin’ more, just the arm,” Joseph answers carefully. “And ya know how kids can get, it was piercin’ and whinin’. Why’d ya wanna know? Poor fella did nothin’ to ya. You’re to young for that.”

“Nah, I know that, just gonna bully the shit outta him when I see him,” Hood grins and now Joseph is fully confused, because from what he’s heard their first baby Robin is now Nightwing in Blüdhaven and they’re not planning to expand that way. However, before he can ask, Hood says: “Sorry, continue.”

“Well, uhm, Batman came immediately. It was carnage, like I said,” Joseph replied. “Jimmy became a vegetable for a year and a half. Bats usually tries to give us injuries that’ll only last a few weeks max, so we all knew we’d fucked up with that.”

Hood is quiet at that and Joseph explains: “Jimmy was the first and one of the worst, but all the goons tha’ ended up in the hospital for longer than three months hurt a Robin. I think the worst might be those tha’ helped, uhm, that villain kill the second Robin. His organization’s still recoverin’ from tha’ one. Think it’s the closest the Bat ever got to killin’ a man.”

Joseph knows that Hood has some deep seated grudge and hatred for Joker, despite taking his old moniker. So, he isn’t sure how well it will land.

He holds his breath as he watches how his boss will react, hoping he isn’t about to get a bullet in the leg. With Hood you’re less likely to get one in the head, but he’s absolutely not above taking out your femur or kneecap and that also sucks.

However, Hood surprises him. Joseph has always guessed that Hood is younger than he pretends to be, but he now sounds like a lost kid as he asks: “Really?”

“Yeah, boss, the Bat don’t play around when it comes to his Robin,” Joseph answers, suddenly feeling like he’s talking to his own son, instead of his crime lord boss. “New kid’s lucky. I mean, he made Batman nicer, god was he fucked when the second one died. But Stan over at Mr. Freeze’s operation cracked a few of his ribs by accident a coupla weeks after the Bat took ‘im in, I hear he still eatin’ out of a tube now. Bat’s gotten more vicious.”

Hood doesn’t say anything and to avoid feeling awkward Joseph just keeps talking: “Heard through the grapevine tha’ the kid got attacked pretty bad at that fancy Tower they’ve got out there, if the guy who did tha’s capable of thought, it’ll surprise me.”

At that Hood shifts slightly and Joseph is surprised to see a bit of guilt in his stance. It’s not something they see often from their boss. Like everything this smoke break, Joseph has no clue how to react to it.

Fortunately, he doesn’t have to, because Hood speaks first. Softly he says: “Guess the kid’s lucky. Just hope the Bat’s nearby when he needs ‘im.”

“Yeah, suppose,” Joseph agrees. “Though he usually is. Never seem ‘im leave the kid alone, especially this one.”

“Good, I’d kill ‘im otherwise,” Hood grunts.

While it fits with Hood’s penchant for protecting kids, Joseph is still thrown off by it, since Hood was shooting at Robin earlier. So he gives him a look, before saying: “I mean, ‘s good tha’ he worries. Kid’s a sprout. Must be older than my boy with the way he talks, but by god is he skinny.” Joseph laughs. “It’s almost funny tha’ I worry for the kid.”

“Nah, worry’s good,” Hood surprisingly assures him. “Wouldn’t be the same if he weren’t jumpin’ ‘round, even if he’s a nuisance.”

“That why ya were shootin’ at ‘im?” Joseph can’t help but ask, even though he knows it’s stupid. It is just- he can’t help it. Not after this strange conversation.

“Kinda,” Hood shrugs. “Little shit needs to learn not to touch my shit. Fucker moved my furniture, I like where my furniture is.”

“He was in your home?” Joseph exclaims, because what the fuck? Why didn’t they hear about it. If the Bats are investigating them close enough to break into their boss’s home, they have a big problem. Very big.

“Yeah, fucked up my alarms too, even though he got a perfectly good key,” Hood mopes and Joseph’s brain screeches to a halt.

Almost as if he’s misheard he asks: “He got a key? Robin got a key? A key to your home?”

“Not voluntarily,” Hood sulks, seemingly not aware of how fucked up that is. “He’s a little stalker. Still. Stole it and copied it.”

“We need to change the locks,” Joseph says, getting up immediately to get going. “Who knows what they’re after. You- you need a protective detail. We need to up security.”

Next to him Hood startles, looking surprised. Then he laughs and waves him away: “Nah, nah, no worries, Joseph. No worries. The Bats ain’t after us.”

“They broke into your home,” Joseph feels the need to point out, because that’s a very important and very worrying detail.

“Just Robin. And just to move my shit and eat my leftovers, which is fuckin’ rude, he has his own chef at home, I have to cook all by myself and it isn’t like he chips in for the groceries,” Hood complains, while Joseph just stares at him, bug eyed.

After a beat, Joseph says: “Uhm, boss, I- uh, I hafta ask. How- how close are ya to the Bats, because that ain’t normal. No- uh no ‘fence.”

“Batman can go suck a dick and Robin needs to go back to school,” Hood scowls. “Kid shouldn’t be out here and I’m not talkin’ to the old man. But he’s a persistent little shit, I haven’t shaken him yet. Doesn’t look like I will.”

That answers absolutely nothing, but does tell Joseph that he doesn’t really want to know, because his brain is putting things together, but not things he wants to think about, because if he thinks about it, he might realize that his boss is a teen and he doesn’t think he can handle the mental weight of knowingly working for a teen.

So, Joseph follows another unspoken rule of the goon and henchpeople underworld and keeps his mouth shut when the boss is spewing nonsense.

He already has a kid to raise, he doesn’t want to think about raising his boss and by the sounds of it, the boss already got people looking after him. Even if they annoy him. Joseph is just going to be grateful about that and ignore the rest.

And pray each Sunday in the Church he doesn’t go to anymore that Hood is gonna keep missing the kid when he shoots. He hasn’t faced that sort of wrath from the Bat yet and he doesn’t plan on ever doing so.

Best to keep his head down and follow all the unspoken rules. Next time he’s smoking alone or with more people than just the boss. He has his blood pressure to think about.

[snurtsnurtcreations]

Phillip Graves Headcanons

A character study, of sorts (all sfw btw)

Has committed war crimes and will do it again >:)

Cares deeply about his Shadows and the Shadow company as a whole

Sooome loyalty to those who employ him, but at the end of the day he is a merc working for personal gain

He won’t turn on someone just because he got a better offer, he’s got some morals, plus reputation is important

Loves seeing a plan come together (let’s fucking gooo!!)

When a mission goes ass up and he loses some good men, you know it’s serious because he’s dangerously quiet, not cursing, jaw clenched

Coffee addict. Creamer is a must tho.

Suuuch a smart ass, will try to get the last word in on everything. Also loves to playfully argue

As a child he used to have a pet raccoon

Just. Just imagine this, right. Teeny tiny Phillip, his two front baby teeth just fell out. He’s holding a raccoon up by its armpits swinging the thing all over the place as he bounds up to his ma all excited-like, asking if he can keep it, please please please

Very touchy. Hugs, pats, hip bumps, shoulder touches, etc, usually done practically subconsciously.

Especially with a S/O, his hands would be aaaall over em. Hand on their back, head on shoulders, hand holding, hell even just sitting really close together or brushing shoulders… he’s all for it

Has a particular fondness for booty grabs as well

Sometimes he has to spend some time just sitting down with a blank stare into nothingness. Error 404. Factory reset. Etc etc. It’s good for the soul, or so he says.

As a teenager he used to break into abandoned buildings

Loves watching trivia type shows like jeopardy, family feud, who wants to be a millionaire. Gets really stoked when he gets something right before the contestant

Is a decent enough cook but Hot Shit when it comes to baking. Somehow always gets the recipe wrong, or takes it out before it’s done baking… or after its already burnt. Took him way too long to realize that baking can’t be treated like cooking and that he can’t just eyeball things or measure with the heart

He’s a master with a grill though. His cookouts are the BOMB

100% has one of those “kiss the cook” aprons

Man’s is rich rich. Has a whole fancy property with a mansion for a house, complete with an outdoor pool + hot tub, fountain + waterfall, personal gym, huuuge tv, wine cellar, pool room, heated bathroom floor, etc etc

Owns a navy blue velvet armchair that wildly contrasts with all other furniture. He’s not entirely sure why he got it in the first place, it just Spoke to him. He’s definitely fallen asleep in it and got a horrible crick in his neck too many times to count

Talks to inanimate objects a liiiittle too much tbh

Will NOT tell his Shadows when his birthday is. He knows they’ll hold it against him or try to do some prank or WORSE throw a surprise party. He gets reeeaaal dodgy when they ask, and neither confirms nor denies any of their guesses

Somehow Bigfoot came up as a topic of interest in conversation once and now the Shadows have an ongoing argument on whether Graves actually believes in Bigfoot or if he’s just bluffing

He is the crazy uncle in his family. His sister is constantly amazed by what new insane junk he can teach her children, but, hey, the kids love him!

He abso-fuckin-lutely beat up his sister’s abusive ex husband

Is the type to let mail pile up on the table for a week or so before going through it

Fairly good at wood carving. It’s a fun little hobby of his

Hates fishing with a passion. One time his sister convinced him to go fishing with her children and while he was trying to remember how his father had taught him way back when (those are bad memories actually… he can figure it out on his own), his seven year old niece pulled out a crawfish and started screaming, Graves slipped in the mud and fell flat on his ass, his five year old nephew tried to get a closer look at the thing but it wiggled the wrong way so he started running and somehow got the hook caught in his shoelaces while the crawfish escaped…. Needless to say it was not a fun day for Graves. The kids laughed up a storm though and his sister constantly teases him about it

Can’t handle spice. Like not even a little. It’s kinda pathetic actually.

“Graves” is not his actual surname. He had it legally changed to that once he became a merc. (“C’mon, man, Fill up Graves? That’s hilarious and cool. It’s perfect.” His sister watches unamused as he tries to explain his decision)

100% acts like he’s dying when he catches a cold. Will cough and snivel and bemoan his life

Sooooo jealous of folks that can play guitar. He’s tried on and off again but somehow it just doesn’t click in his mind

Performs a sick air guitar. Has held an air guitar competition for his Shadows once. All agree it was a blast but refuse to provide details on who won. Newbies always hear about it as the legendary air guitar battle but don’t actually know what happened

Shadow HQ breakroom has pages with drawings stuck up on the fridge with abc magnets. It started as a joke but it’s an actual thing now. Middle of the fridge is a place of honor and respect, and the judge of it is of course Commander Graves

[adhesivedildos]

I've, been doing better?

I briefly entered psychosis a month ago, just, under everything. Hallucinating at work, losing touch with who i am even am, being ostracized and threatened, i started idealizing religious esque themes of suffering i dont even know. but its okay. Friends have really fuckin helped me clear my head, telling me that im not crazy for feeling all of this, that everything has just been, a mess, and im allowed to just be alive. indi and mika notably, and im finally getting back into mutual aid, a community I've really missed and wanted to give myself to. I was so afraid I wouldnt be able to.

But I finally got back into therapy, back on E, I've been sober for weeks, (but i dont really feel that different, it was easy as just not drinking. hasnt really been an issue for a long time, just feel its time) I'm reading and journaling in my lil books everyday, taking shrooms, breaking into buildings with friend for photography and tagging, run sometimes, coming back into activism. Stargazing. My little things philosophy. Everyone at my job showed me overwhelming love when they found out i was leaving, im getting to see my friend for their birthday and it caught me really off guard and im excited for their gifts. ive rebuilt a healthy relationship with sex that i lost a long time ago, I did quite a while back but im only starting to let myself feel it now, (not that i usually even desire that frequently at all?) Im just being human again and im grateful.

I got, so immersed in hurt and confusion trying to bridge any line of communication and trying to understand what was happening to make people believe the things they were telling me i am, and what i was trying to do, it warped my reality for months. i couldnt let myself trust myself at all, every time something didnt add up or try to come up with an answer it was like voices screaming in my head telling me i was in denial, or shit like " oh so anybody except you must be crazy huh" and id just start from the beginning completely broken.

I've had a lot of massive revolutions of my understanding on life, about addiction down to all its microcosms of reward systems be it drugs or relationships or validation or cell phones. Spirituality, accountability, victim/abuser identities and the complexities of trauma, how to qualm and rewire those pathways that leave us helpless to ourselves. Most of all I just feel a deeper peace in understanding and letting go. empathy for myself, for everyone whos hurt me before. Were all going through the motions that come with being a collective of people at all, making the same mistakes and subsequent realizations that have been had before, will happen again, and getting closer to whatever "it" is.

I've been suspended in an extremely hard emotional state for a long time. I felt helpless and scared throughout my last two relationships, and it only got worse after it got better. I think im actually living again now.

[katsukikitten]

I present to you overworked. A comfort one shot I made hella quick for @mindninjax myself and anyone else who needs some bakugou comfort today. Please enjoy and let Bakugou be here for you if no one else can. 😊

Header by me!

Your phone softly vibrates on your desk as your eyes burn from staring at a screen filled with information that is familiar, information that you should know but just cannot retain. 

Or focus. 

So your phone is a happy distraction as you reach for it, only to be slightly annoyed by to a message from your hot headed friend. 

Grumpyasshole: Oi, haven't heard from you in that stupid ass group chat all week. Dunce face and shitty hair wanna know what's pissed in your cheerios 

Tongue in your cheek you debate on replying. You had ignored a slew of messages from your friends, in the group chat and even your dms sat smiling faces trapped in their little bubbles but you had always turned your phone face down. Too caught up in stress to be able to fulfill any social quota but your friends must have been desperate to convince the token grump of the group to message you. Privately at that. 

In a matter of seconds your thumbs slide across the virtual keyboard, knowing you could be honest with Bakugou, that the Pro hero could handle any sort of emotional load with ease. 

You thought it most likely because he did not care in the first place to store the baggage, at least not anywhere for long. 

You: Just feeling really run down from work. I think I'm over my head but probably too prideful to admit. Lol. Please tell everyone I'm sorry, that I'm just busy and I'll be back on my bullshit hopefully by Friday. 

Before you can even set your phone down you see that Bakugou leaves you on read. Your snort softly as you shake your head, tossing your phone aside for work. 

"Typical." You mutter to yourself. Reaching for your iced coffee only to find it empty. You debate if you should take a trip to get more. On one hand the air, despite the rain would do you good, you're sure your deskmate would gladly take a coffee. On the other, everyone in the office would stuff your hands with bills and credit cards begging you'd bring them some of that sweet nectar back. No one would care that you wouldn't haven't a hand for your umbrella and your hair would get totally fucked. 

So you decide to suffer in silence, as you always do. 

Hours slip through your fingers before your eyes glance at the small clock on the bottom right hand side of your computer. Steadily counting the minutes in the small banner. You sigh. Bringing your head down between your arms as your fingers lightly fist your hair at your nape. You felt as if you accomplished nothing, what with how much was left. 

At least your desk was clean and your shirt was cute, a good view for a few spine numbing minutes. You think you smell caramel wafting through the air, a part of you annoyed that your desk mate would venture the rain for her normal caramel latte without offering 

This is how Bakugou finds you when he approaches your desk, a sneer settled on his handsome features. Dirt and sweat clinging to his skin and the dark fabric of his hero suit. He crosses his arms, long gone are the obnoxious grenade gauntlets as his chest puffs. 

People in the office are staring at the blonde, his jagged domino mask making his garnet eyes that much more intense. Tension rises in the air as you're so oblivious, still collecting yourself silently praying that when you look back up the clock would read closer to five. 

"Oi." His voice is a deep rumble, not belonging in the office. No it belonged in the living room of your crazy packed house to one of your many roommates. It belonged at a bar, nagging that it's time to go when you were too drunk to fend off any prying hands, pestering you about your feet as he dragged you home. This voice belonged in the kitchen fussing at Denki for the stupid memes he puts in the group chat when all of you were 'right fucking here'. 

This voice did not belong in the office and so a part of you thinks you're seriously losing your shit before you glance up at the clock. Time moved like a sloth for you since the last you looked only ten minutes had passed. Kronos laughing at your plea of having time continue to move as light speed only to seemingly stop. 

"OI! Is yer head so far up yer ass ya can't fuckin hear me now, Princess?" Wait, who was using that nickname? 

That nickname thrust upon you by that grumpy asshole roommate once he saw how "high maintenance" you were when clearly you just cared about yourself for yourself. He did it as a jest but it made your whole body heat and go rigid every damn time. 

And he took notice in it. 

Delight even. 

And took notice in the way you hadn't been putting in much effort for yourself. Not taking the time for your hair, or your skincare routine that you forced on the whole house. Everyone dewy in their own right. How you look disheveled and bewildered now as you turned to face him. 

Large eyes going doe like, mouth forming in the smallest O that had him shifting his weight from one foot to the other because of his darker, lingering thoughts. 

How would you sound when he was buried…

He cuts the thought off with a pop of his skin, pulling you to your feet from your desk. 

"What are you doing?" Your voice cracks from shock, worry and a bit of venom leaks through but you make no effort to break free. 

"Wrap this shit up. I told yer boss I need your dumb ass for something." 

"Like what? I-" Bakugou cuts you off by leaning in close, eyes dark as he presses his lips to the shell of your ear. 

"You need a fucking day off. So I told your boss to fuck off and that you're coming home with me." His tone absolute. So you save your last bit of work, clock out before Bakugou passes you your jacket. He glares into the glass of your manager's office and you notice him crumble beneath that infamous burning gaze. 

Part of you wonders what Bakugou had really said, wonders if you'd still had a job. 

The two of you stand under the awning of your office building. The rain coming down in sheets, thick enough it almost blurs the cityscape.  Bakugou sighs, tension leaving his body as he tilts his neck. It cracks from the effort. 

"So what...what are we gonna do?" 

"I'm going to take your stupid ass home. Force you to shower while I order take out, then I'm going to set your overworked ass on the couch and we are going to watch that fucking movie you never shut up about. Got it Princess?" He fixes you a glare and is extra careful to drag out your nickname ever so slightly as he leans towards you. Your faces are close together, your heart in your throat as you try to push down these stupid, fleeting feelings you've had for the hot head since the six of you moved into that almost run down house. 

But you never could shake them. 

You senses fill with spiced caramel, easing the tension of your shoulders. 

"G-got it." 

[morgana-ren]

Damn validation hits different when its from your favorite Shigaraki poster.

No but really creepy obsessed Shigaraki can like get it however it he wants it. Just like that act of having blood on your hands from killing someone "accidentally/on purpose" and Shigaraki making you touch him and in turn touching you with the blood of your friends that he spilled to get your attention is like 🥵🥵🥵. The manipulation, the bloodshed, the unhealthy relationship that's gonna result cause like. You jumped at an opportunity to kill babe, in the end you're just like him. Or Shigaraki forcing you to hold the knife or whatever and kill your remaining friend(s). Its hot and romantic if you think about. Just like spilling blood together even if its accidental is AMAZING

I honestly can't write for shit, I just have ideas and run on sentences but I'll take whatever scraps you throw my way❤

Thank you so much! ❤️ 💕 I’m telling you, it’s a fuckin’ awesome idea. Look, on some level, a lot of us were simpin’ for these slashers. Especially when it came to the ones that got a little too close and personal. One going crazy for you and using your weaknesses against you? Holding your friends lives against you and bending you to his whims or else? Top tier.

Mmmmhmmhmhmmhhaaaaahahaaa okay so I tried my hand at a quick one, just him being a total bastard. You know, cause why not. I can technically make it more crazy and romantic as opposed to ‘total psychopath holds me captive’, but this is what ended up coming out atm. I hope it’s alright! He is not nice, because I never write him nice. He’s actually a complete bastard, but you know.

Tomura shoves you through the rocks and fauna that line the camping area and forward toward one of the craft cabins, practically carrying you at this point because your own legs are too weak to hold your own body weight. 

A quick flip of the switch to turn on the ugly, yellowish flickering lights reveals he's got one of your fellow councilors tied up and unconscious with their head lopped over on their shoulder, a little dribble of blood trailing down their temple from where he hit them with the butt of the knife. You're shaking in his grip as he gently guides you in front of the chair, rubbing up and down your arms in a way that is likely meant to be comforting but gives away his already barely concealed excitement.

"You said you'd do whatever I ask, right?"

Dread blooms, threading through your ribcage and squeezing, suffocating your lungs and anchoring your gut to the floor in abject horror. Bile rises up to tickle your esophagus as he presses the hilt of the blade to your palm- still slick with blood and caked with the viscera of your fellow campers- your friends. You tear your face away. You can't look. You can't look.

"I want you to prove it to me."

His hand constricts across your chin in an iron grip and yanks your face back toward them, your tears pooling in the slats of his fingers. He gently curls each of your own fingers around the knife- so gently in contrast to the way he's lodged against your jaw- before releasing you and shoving you forward.

“You’re going to kill them. I even made it easy for you. He’s out cold- no screaming, no struggling, none of the obnoxious stuff I had to deal with. All you gotta do is push the knife in to prove your loyalty to me.”

The dam breaks and you fall to your knees, shaking your head as the knife falls from your hand and clatters to the floor, spinning aimlessly on its axis. Sobs catch in your throat, hiccupping relentlessly through the choked gasps and guttural blubbers. “I-I can’t! I won’t! You can’t make me do this! Please, Tomura-”

He rolls his eyes, plucking the knife from the floor before threading his hands through your hair to the scalp and jerking you back up to your feet and into his arms again. Your teeth clench at the pain, another sob wracking your spine as you almost double back over. “I can make you do anything I want- Don’t forget what this is.” Releasing your hair, he curls an arm around under your tits, holding you upright, his other pushing the knife back into your sweaty palm, hand curling around yours to guide you. “Don’t forget what happens if you don’t do what I ask. I’ll even help you, if you’ll stop your incessant sniveling.” He moves forward, bringing you with him closer to your target, brandishing the knife entwined in your hands. The sharp blade catches on the collar of their pastel camp shirt, moving lower as Tomura calculates out exactly where to move- he won’t drag this out just to hurt you. He might be cruel, but he’s not a monster.

“Right there-” The tip sits point blank, scaling downward below the inner part of the left clavical bone- stopping approximately between the fourth and fifth ribs and angling the knife upward. Hours of volunteering to teach the camp anatomy lesson tells you as much. “We’ll push it in together right there. It’ll be almost instant, I swear-”

“Please- I can’t-” “You can.” He cranes his neck and kisses your hairline, and you recoil as much as you from his affections. “And you will. For me.” A hideous giggle as he kisses at the shell of your ear. “And for yourself.”

His hand moves forward, taking yours along with him, and the tip of the blade dents in the billow of your victim’s shirt. Your hand shakes, fingers trembling, but guided by Tomura’s movements, it nudges in deeper, and you meet the first level of flesh.

“Now just push it in-”

A small patch of blood begins to bloom outward from the point of contact, piercing his skin as Tomura wedges the blade in deeper with a slow, fluid movement. You could swear that as it embeds further into his skin, that his body quivers and tightens-

“C’mon- Almost there. A few more inches and you’ll be done-”

At this point, he’s the only thing anchoring your hand to the handle, more his efforts than your own. He’s definitely taking far more pleasure in this than you; A terrible, carnivorous smile sliced across his face as he claims your faltering fingers beneath his own. He’s made it perfectly clear what’s to become of you if you dare to defy him, but even as the proverbial guillotine looms above your neck, every instinct in your body screams to shove him off, to run, to hide where he can never find you.

But he’s stronger than you- faster too- made sure to impress upon you that he’s smarter as well. He’s made a point of telling you in explicit detail what will become of you if he has to chase you down again, but the impulse is thrumming through your veins side by side with the adrenaline that makes you nauseous. Even if you could fend him off- even if he couldn’t catch you- you could never go home. He’d spent months planning this down to the marrow. Every little detail orchestrated to look like the handiwork of an unhinged and underappreciated camp councilor- you.

There’s so much blood. On him. On you. Dribbling down the front of the unconscious councilor’s shirt and staining the pastel a stark red that blears your black and white pulsating vision. You can feel his heartbeat in the knife, you swear you can-

“Almost there, baby-”

The blade stills as it meets a meaty wall of resistance and you know it’s reached the his heart. Tomura’s body shivers against yours, knife almost fully driven into the thorax now. You try not to think about how much time it must have taken him to study, how much he must have researched avoiding the sternum and the cage of ribs meant to protect the vital muscle if only to force you to bend for him this way.

“You wanna know something fucked up?” He removes his hand from yours, leaving you gripping the hilt for a split second before you yank yourself backwards, sobbing openly as it stays put, stiffly wobbling slightly from the lack of support once you both withdraw. You turn away from the body, smacking into Shigaraki’s chest even as you try to shove him away. He cradles your face, hands crusted with blood tracing the curve of your cheek, smearing your tears across your skin. “He could technically live through this, if I let him. The heart closes punctures on its own if allowed to do so. At least long enough help could get here.” “Please-” You whine, voice cracking and sinuses draining into your throat and clogging your airway in your distress. “Please! We can leave together, we can go wherever you want! Just call him an ambulance and we’ll go. I’ll go with you willingly, we don’t have to-”

“You’ll come with me anyway, you dumb little slut. I don’t think you’re quite grasping what’s happening here.” He seethes behind clenched teeth, fingers twisting in your uniform. “But I guess you have a point. He doesn’t have to die.”

“Please- Please just-” “Convince me then.”

He pushes you down to the floor again, landing on your knees before him. His hand finds the back of your head, grinding your face onto his crotch hard enough you can feel his stiffening cock against the soft of your cheek.

“What? We don’t have time-” “Better hurry then. Tick tock, princess. I didn’t put a whole lot of effort into finding out how long he can survive.”

Nausea curls up in your gut once more but your fingers still find his zipper, shaking and blinking back tears as you unbutton his trousers. You try to ignore the mocking laugher bubbling in his gut as you fish his cock out from the barrier of fabric, hesitating slightly when your fingers close around the velvety skin of his shaft, hot and throbbing to the touch.

“I don’t know what will be a bigger disappointment- if you don’t know what you’re doing or if you do.” He jeers, taking his dick out of your hands only to slap it against the side of your mouth a few times as he yanks his pantline down enough to free himself fully. “I guess we’ll find out. Either way, you’ll catch on to what I like, won’t you? You were always such a quick little learner.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to rebut, shoving the head of his cock past your teeth in a way that seems almost too eager- like a virgin would. You don’t know much about Tomura- had never even really spoken to him before these past few days, but if you had to guess, judging by the way he’s already breathing heavy and looking down at you with manic eyes and sweating profusely from the nape, this is probably the first time he’s ever been touched intimately like this.

“C’mon!- Suck me already-”

It’s not a surprise. He’s brash and rude and a total loner and butted heads with everyone else from the start, and now he’s responsible for countless deaths as well. He probably never found time to woo anyone between his plotting and abhorrent personality. At least it plays in your favor to some degree, since chances are he’ll cum sooner rather than later. The thought of having to take him down your throat makes you sick, but if it’ll save your friend...

You stick out your tongue past your lips, allowing him to slide his length down your throat without obstruction, blinking your bleary doe eyes up at him as you kitten lick his cock. He shivers with every lave of your tongue, his musky scent invading your nostrils as you try to repress your gag reflex to allow him deeper.

“Oh, fuck yes-“

He stutters his hips, rolling them against your face until you’re flush with the course and curly white litany of hairs nested at the base of his pelvis. His musky busk clogs your senses and cloys up your sinuses, but you’re determined to please him- this isn’t about you anymore- so you shove down the disgust and focus on pampering his cock as best as you can given the circumstances.

“Shit- you’re such a little slut for me. Look at you go, taking my fat cock like a pro-“

You purse your lips around him, locking an airtight seal around the base of his prick and covering your teeth with your lips. The edges swell your lips with every bob of your head, but his moans clue you into the fact that you must be doing something right, so you ignore the discomfort in favor of taking him further down your throat instead.

His hand finds the crown of your head again, closing around your scalp and forcing his cock down into the depths of your throat as he shoves you deeper until your lips are practically pressed against his navel. Gagging is inevitable, as he’s not exactly small, but you try to remind yourself to breathe through your nose instead- though the hot, heady air near his groin does you no favors.

“Come on, baby, take my dick- fuck, you’re such a good little whore for me- suck my cock- fuck, such a good girl-“

He’s close, he’s so close you can taste it. The slimy consistency of precum coats your mouth and he’s throbbing against your throat- he’s almost ready to cum, just a bit more, just a bit-

The tangy smell of blood and arousal sits heavy in the air and even as you want to cry, you swallow him further, closing your throat around him and massaging him with the silken cavern of your throat, letting him fuck your mouth to his liking. Drool spills from the sides of your mouth, swollen lips puffed around his shaft, and he looks at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“Gunna cum- gunna come down your fucking throat- you’ll swallow it all-“ his other hand clumsily slaps against your cheek, massaging your cheekbone with hands still blood-wet. “Take it all, you fucking whore- fuck, so pretty, so pretty, all mine now-“

He throbs and you can feel it, cum spurting from his cock down your throat and into your belly. You almost gag, having to force down the sputters with a red face and weepy, bulging eyes. He doesn’t relent his grip, keeping you stuck on his cock as he moans loud and unabashed enough that it leaves you humiliated even as you know that everyone else in the vicinity too long gone to hear it.

You try to swallow it down, try to stomach it all, but it proves just a bit too much. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he’d been withholding for a while. Tapping his thighs, coughing around his length until he finally has the wherewithal to take the hint, he withdraws from you as you cough up small bits of spittle and cum onto the knees of his jeans and your own mouth. You fall down onto your side, hacking up bits of liquid that clearly went down the wrong pipe as he tucks himself away back in his pants.

He kneels down before you, patting your back in a condescending manner with a sinister, lofty smile. You try desperately to get a word out between convulsions, and it doesn’t help that he’s pulling you to your feet before your vision can clear itself, yanking you up into his arms and over his shoulder with one careless heave.

“You did real good, baby- I can’t wait to fuck that tight little cunt of yours when we get back- You’re so perfect- Fuck that was incredible, everything like I dreamed but better-”

You pound on his back, pointing at your friend. They sit limply, knife still jabbed in their chest. Their skin is a sickly pale color, blood running down and pooling in their lap and absorbing into the fabric of their clothing.

“Call- first- please-”

“Huh?” He looks back at the chair and the body tied down to it, grin faltering slightly. “Oh. They’re gone. Long gone. See?” He turns on his heel, bringing his shoe up to kick at the butt of the knife, lodging it deeper into the corpse with one quick stomp of his shoe. There’s no movement, not even a cry or a whimper or a rattle. “They were already dead. I stabbed them in the back of the neck earlier. It was quick, if that makes you feel better. They didn’t feel a thing-” He pats your ass, giving it a quick smack. “But you sure did, didn’t you?”

You wail and kick and scream, energy renewed as his horrific deception and that sickening feeling in your gut plunging further and further into sick. He only cackles, easily keeping you under control with one hand slung around your waist and his shoulder digging into your gut.

“Good call though. Can’t be leaving the murder weapon behind. Memories of our first kill  together and all.”

He yanks the knife out in one swift movement, body slumping over from the momentum and you see the ghastly wound right at the base of the back of his neck.

He was already dead. He was already dead.

[all-hail-the-witcher]

rest well my songbird

its @softdarlingjaskier‘s birthday!!! and i have some soft eskier for him!!! a little birdie kings of the bog told me that you like jaskier getting his hands massaged so...without further ado...

__

ship: eskier :) (eskel x jaskier)

warnings: jaskier overworks his hands and eskel takes care of them. lamberts an ass for 1 second in true lambert fashion

words: 1.6k

editing: ye

genre: somfte

__

Jaskier flexed his hands and winced as he put down his lute. Winters offered him more down time than on the road, so he could spend the winter months composing to his heart's content, working on the longer ballads that he often neglected while tagging along on the Path.

The only problem with composing and songwriting non stop was that it made his hands ache terribly.

Between plucking at his lute and gripping his quill, his hands would usually start to protest a month or so into winter. But, as all good songwriters did, he pushed through the pain, willing to continue composing no matter what. He had a reputation to uphold and Witchers to help, after all. He couldn't afford to slack off.

Eskel did not share his views.

Well, neither did Vesemir, Geralt, Lambert and Aiden, but Eskel was the most vocal about it, often plucking the quill or lute from his hands after so many hours and demanding that he rest. Right when he was in the middle of a good line too! Jaskier had lost so many good ideas to Eskel’s forced breaks.

This was the first time though that he had chosen to take a break on his own that winter, and Eskel was on him in a second.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern flowing off of him in waves as he approached Jaskier, who had been sitting the farthest away from the fire. It wasn’t his fault that the fire would dry out his lute!

“Fine,” Jaskier muttered as he struggled to close his bottle of ink. He didn't want Eskel to worry, but he realized perhaps a second too late that Eskel could probably smell the pain coming off of him.

“That’s not true,” Eskel said, seeing through the lie immediately. “Usually I have to force you to take a break.”

He didn't say anything else and Jaskier sighed. Eskel was waiting for him to admit that he was in pain, despite the fact that he already knew.

“My hands,” he whispered, forgetting that he was in a room full of Witchers with enhanced hearing. “They’re stiff, and sore, and cramped. More than usual.” He looked up at a blurry Eskel and it took him a moment to realize that he had been almost crying.

“Yeah no shit they hurt!” Lambert shouted from the couch. “If you keep fucking playing with that damn lute of yours theyre gonna fuckin fall off!”

“Lambert,” Aiden said sternly. “Shut up.”

Jaskier laughed and tried to wipe away his tears with his hands, but winced when his fingers cramped up.

Eskel brushed his hands away and gently wiped away Jaskier’s tears with his thumbs, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“You need to not push yourself so hard, Jaskier,” he whispered, pulling Jaskier’s face against his chest. “You don’t need to spend every single waking second of the winter composing. Winters are supposed to be for relaxing, and you haven't been doing much of that.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier muttered into Eskel’s shirt. He longed to bring his hands up to hug Eskel and reassure him that this was fine, it just happened every so often, but his hands hurt too much. He didn't want them to cramp so hard that they ended up stuck in one position. That was never pleasant.

“No,” Eskel said firmly. “Don’t apologize.”

He tugged Jaskier closer to him, resting his chin on top of his head so that Jaskier was engulfed in the arms of his Witcher. Jaskier inhaled Eskel’s scent deeply. He smelled like he always did in the winters: of wood and musk, chamomile and fresh bread. It was Jaskier’s favorite smell in the world. It meant that his love was well rested and taken care of, healthy for once after a long year on the Path.

Eskel pulled away after a moment and tugged at Jaskier’s upper arm, encouraging him to stand.

“Come here,” he said, his eyes bright with what could only be an idea. And who was Jaskier to say no to him?

He followed Eskel over to the nest of furs that they kept in front of the fire, for puppy piles usually. Eskel directed him to sit down in the nest and then with a stern look not to move, he darted out of the room.  

“What the hell is that sneaky fucker- mmph” Lambert’s insult was cut off by Aiden kissing him on the mouth, likely to get him to shut up.

Geralt sighed and turned a page in his book, but Vesemir, who was sitting on the other side of the fire knitting, regarded them with a fond look before turning to Jaskier.

“I have a salve that you could put on your hands, it’ll help with the cramping,” he said.

“Oh! That’s very kind but-”

Jaskier was cut off by Eskel running back into the room.

“I already got it, Vesemir,” Eskel said, walking back to the nest.

Vesemir smiled knowingly and went back to his knitting.

“C’mere Jaskier,” Eskel said, sitting behind him and tugging one of the furs across Jaskier’s lap. He carefully rolled up the sleeves of Jaskier’s chemise before opening the little tub of salve. “Lean back, relax, you don't have to do any more composing today, or tomorrow, or this whole week. I’m going to take care of you.”

Jaskier was glad that his back was to Eskel because he could feel his cheeks flushing.

Eskel picked up Jaskier’s right hand delicately in his much larger, sword calloused ones. “Let me know if I’m hurting you at any point, okay?”

Jaskier nodded and watched, mesmerized, as Eskel began to rub out the cramps in his hand. He started with his fingers, beginning with his pinky finger, and rubbing out the tensions in each of the joints. It was almost painful at first, but Jaskier soon adjusted to it and found himself craving more.

Once Eskel had worked his way slowly through Jaskier’s fingers, he moved to his palm, taking it in both of his hands and massaging it slowly in small, but firm circles. Jaskier couldn't help the sigh of pleasure that escaped his lips.

“Yes, that’s it,” Eskel murmured. “Just relax, I’ve got you.”

Jaskier let his head drop back against Eskel’s shoulder as he looked out at the room. Lambert and Aiden were bickering over a game of Gwent, passing a bottle of White Gul back and forth between them. Geralt was pretending to read, but every so often his eyes would flick up to the game and he’d mutter sometimes useful hints to Lambert and Aiden.

Jaskier watched them fondly as Eskel moved to his wrist, giving the tendons there extra attention. From there he moved up Jaskier’s forearm to his elbow, massaging his skin carefully.

Jaskier flexed his hand experimentally and was surprised when he discovered that he had definitely more movement than before. But Eskel covered his hand scoldingly.

“No,” he said. “Don't go undoing all of my hard work.”

“Sorry,” Jaskier murmured. “It just felt so nice and-”

“I’m not done yet,” Eskel said, cutting Jaskier off as he dipped his fingers into the salve.

Eskel warmed the salve first in his hands before rubbing it against Jaskier’s skin. And Meliele’s sweet tits, if the massage had been heavenly, this was absolutely divine. Vesemir had been right, the salve was positively wonderful, seemingly wonderful, drawing out the pain from his hands almost instantly. Jaskier couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips.

Eskel laughed lightly, rubbing the salve all over Jaskier’s hands and wrists, even going up his arm a little, before reaching for a few small straight planks of wood and a roll of bandages that he must have grabbed while he was getting the salve.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Jaskier protested. “Just what are you doing with that?”

“You don't want the salve getting everywhere,” Eskel explained. “So it’s best to put the bandage on until it soaks into your skin. And the splint will help keep your hands from cramping and getting stuck in an uncomfortable position while they’re bandaged.”

“But what is a musician without his hands!”

“A resting, healing one,” Eskel said, pressing a light kiss to Jaskier’s nose. “I’ll help you with everything, my songbird. I’m here to take care of you.”

Jaskier pouted but held his hand out to Eskel to bandage. “You better mean that.”

“Of course I do,” Eskel said, wrapping Jaskier’s hand and wrist in bandages first before placing the wood underneath it and arranging his fingers over it before wrapping it in even more bandages. The end result was a bit clunky looking and Jaskier wasn’t crazy about the fact that he wasn't going to be able to use his hands at all, but Eskel had promised that he would take care of him and Jaksier knew that he would deliver.

“See?” Eskel said, placing a kiss to the back of Jaskier’s bandaged hand. “All better.”

Jaskier smiled at his lover's efforts before leaning back against Eskel’s soft chest as he got started on his other hand. He watched his careful ministrations through half lidded eyes before the heat from the fire and the warmth from the furs lulled him into a half asleep state. The only thing keeping him awake was Eskel’s gentle massaging of his hand.

But eventually, Eskel finished, tying off the bandage with another kiss before wrapping his arms around Jaskier.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yes,” Jaskier muttered truthfully. He was tired, but at least his hands didn't ache so fiercely anymore.

Eskel pressed another kiss to his hair and laid back, tugging Jaskier until he was resting his head on his chest, and wrapped a fur around the two of them.

“I’ll wake you in a few hours to take the bandages off,” Eskel murmured into his ear. “But until then, rest well my songbird.”

And Jaskier did. He fell asleep to the gentle roar of the crackling fire, to Lambert and Aiden’s drunken bickering, and to Eskel’s steady heartbeat under his ear.

__

happyyyestttt of birthdayssss to peterrrrrr

tag list: hmu if you want on or off

@percy-jackson-is-sexy-

@barlowpng

@eminasan

@llamasdumpsterfire

@nonegenderleftpain

@geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde

@geekymagicalpotato

@jaskierswolf

@toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account

@toss-a-coin-to-your-lesbian

@littleredhotridinghood

@fontegagrilledcheese

@acemoppet

@lookatgeraltmyboi

@gods-oopsie-woopsie​

@julek

@funkylittlebard

@dani-dandelino

@officerjennie

@kuripon

@alllthequeenshorses

@mothmanismyuncle

@dapandapod

[whitexwingedxdoves]

I’m with you | request

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: Gender identity not specified. (They/Them pronouns used) Warnings: Language Summary: Daryl finds you in the forest with a broken foot, when he brings you back to the prison he runs into a problem with the group accepting you. A/N: Requested by @hail-yourselves  Tags:  @browneyes528 @phoenixblack89 @srhxpci @jodiereedus22 @witch-of-letters​ @fantaziescapade​

The shooting pain in your foot made it difficult for you to continue to walk, you managed to pull yourself to some rocks and sat down beside them. You cradled your foot hoping to relieve some pressure but to no avail. Your ankle had swollen to the size of a tennis ball and even though you weren’t a doctor you knew for sure your foot was not meant to bend that way. You groaned to yourself, allowing your full body to lay among the mossy floor. You stared up into the tree’s just hoping life would give you some sort of break. It felt bizarre laying on the floor, it was an action you chose to avoid, for months now you had been climbing trees and securing yourself to rest for the night, you figured it was the best way to avoid the dead but now with your foot presumably broken you knew that would be next to impossible to achieve.

You were looking for anything to distract you from the pain that swelled in your foot but you didn’t expect it to come in the form of footsteps. You reached for your bow and armed yourself as quickly as you could sitting up perfectly straight to observe the surrounding areas. You became very aware of your inability to move when you heard the footsteps getting closer, your heart started to beat loudly but you managed to keep your breathing stable, yet another life saving hack you had to learn the hard way.  The footsteps seemed to be coming from behind you and you turned as much as you could, aiming your weapon directly in front of you. The tip of your arrow seemed to be pointing towards a man, an alive man. The first one you had seen in a while. You kept your weapon aimed at him as you watched him slowly creep around you, he had a crossbow ready and aimed in your direction “Drop it” he growled in your direction. You took a moment before you reluctantly lowered your bow to the ground, you kept your hands up to prove to the man that you had no intentions of killing him. 

“I have food in my bag, take whatever you want. I don’t want any trouble!” He never let down his guard but he seemed to take in your situation. He nodded towards your foot, his weapon seemed to point in its direction also causing you to shuffle slightly on the ground. 

“S’appened to ya foot?” you looked at the foot in question and shrugged before the man

“Must have broken it fighting off the dead” you let your eyes meet his again, he lowered his weapon a little but not all the way.

“Ya with anyone?” your head dropped at his question, you just shook your head remembering the people you had lost along the way. “What’s ya name?” 

“Y/N” you quickly responded, you watched him carefully for a response or at least to learn his name but before he even had a chance to reply you moment was intruded on by the dead. 

There were far too many for both of you to kill, you had little arrows left and it seemed he didn’t have much to his name either. You reached for your bow and started taking down as many as you were capable of. You glanced over at the stranger for a moment, you watched him wrestling with one of them, clinging onto his knife. He didn’t notice the one that was creeping up behind him, you took  your aim and sent your last arrow into its skull. The man turned immediately to watch the dead fall after taking care of the one he was wrestling with. His eyes shot wide before he darted towards you, he helped you up to your feet and your arm fell on his shoulders, you were slightly confused by his heroism but didn’t complain as you hobbled as fast as you could to get to safe ground. 

-

You made it out of the woods with the mystery man, he kept his hold on you as you hobbled down the road. He didn’t say much to you nor did you to him but you kept glancing over at him taking in the details of his face. It wasn’t lost on you how attractive he was despite looking like he hadn’t showered in a lifetime. You finally came to a stop outside what had previously been a prison, people came running to the gates to assist the man and allowed you both in. 

“Daryl, who the hell is that?” one of the people called. Daryl, that was his name, you thought it suited him well. 

“Y/N, got a broken foot!” he grunted, leading you further into the prison. You looked around at the surroundings completely amazed that a place like this even existed, you figured anyone else alive were just doing the same as you, scavenging and pitching up camp whenever they got too tired to keep walking. 

“You can’t just bring people back here, what if they’re dangerous!” a woman now chimed in, following you and Daryl up to the prison. “We have too much to deal with as it is!” The archer stopped in his tracks, turning around making you hobble with him as he faced the girl. 

“Y/N saved my damn life out there, can’t just leave em on their own ta die!” though his words were sweet he seemed to spit them at her before continuing on his path. 

“It’s just another mouth to feed that we can’t afford and without Rick-“ Daryl cut her off before she could finish, this time he turned without you, leaving you to stand on your own with great difficulty. 

“Rick goin crazy aint exactly ma problem! I’ll deal with feedin’ em. You jus worry bout ya damn self!” you felt the need to interject, you hated that your presence had caused a riff with the group, you knew they must have gone through a lot together to still be here and you didn’t want to be the cause of their downfall. 

“Look, I’ll leave I don’t want to be a bother” the archer shot you a look which only made you recoil a little more, backing up as much as you could as he approached you. 

“Na, ya stayin’, can’t do shit on tha’ foot!” you sighed at his words and turned your head towards the woman who seemed set on sending you back out alone.

“Once my foot’s better I can pull my weight, I’ve gotten pretty good at hunting –“ as you tried to make your case with her, you felt Daryl’s hand on your arm tightly squeezing it. He pulled you away from the situation and back up towards the building. 

“Don’t fuckin sell ya self” he growled, letting his grip go lose to pull your arm over his shoulders once more. 

-

You got inside the prison just fine, still using Daryl as a crutch. He didn’t say anything to the people he passed nor did they speak anything to him. You noticed a baby in the arms of a young boy which only made your heart hurt a little, thinking of the horrors that boy must have gone through that the baby will surely have to experience one day. You reached one of the cells and the man let you go to lay down on the bottom bunk of the bed. You let yourself sink into the mattress, the feeling felt so foreign yet it reminded you of home. You closed your eyes to perfectly picture your old bedroom, remembering the scent of your freshly cleaned sheets. You let your eyes open at the feel of the mattress shifting slightly, you watched Daryl as he rummaged through your satchel. He threw the protein bars you managed to find on the bed beside you and the packets of powdered mash potato soon followed. He pulled out three small, white packets of vegetable seeds that had been laying in your bag for a while now, he finally looked up at you, cocking his brow at his find. “I found them a while back, thought If I found somewhere safe enough I could plant them” he grunted at your words before throwing the seeds back into your bag and pulled out your flask, he shook it to figure out how much water remained in side but quickly realised there was nothing occupying the flask. 

He pushed himself from the bed and made his way towards the door “Daryl” you called out, hoping that you had remembered his name correctly. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at you “Thank you” you whispered sending him a smile, he bit down on his lip not entirely sure how to take your thanks.

“Get some rest” he finally replied before leaving you alone in the room which you would soon come to know was his.  

Daryl made his way across the court yard after filling your flask up with water but he was caught by the women from before, Maggie was her name, another thing you’d later learn. “Why you so dead set on helpin’ them?” she was blunt and straight to the point, the southerner just grunted at her words, fidgeting with the cap on your flask. “Daryl!” she continued to press the man until he couldn’t bare her voice anymore.

“Reminds me of someone” he whispered before pushing past her to continue his journey back to you.  Maggie followed after him, tried to get more information on who it was you bore resemblance to but he never answered her. He wasn’t quite ready to share that part of his past with anyone just yet.

[cartoonsaint]

HLVRAI but they r soulmates and idiots hehe

part one part two WARNING: contains v poor self-esteem. poor gordon idiotman

So it turns out hot guy’s crazy.

To be fair, Benrey probably should have just let him pass without bugging him in the first place; guy was wearing the company suit and everything, so it’s not like he was an actual security risk. But work is boring, and the guy had sounded so cocky shooting aggressive “howdy!”s at everyone he passed, and also with the HEV helmet tucked under an arm instead of on his head it was clear that he was hot, hot, SO hot what the fuck!

So really, what was Benrey supposed to do? He’s only human.

Hah, he’s got jokes.

But yeah, guy’s nuts. Going on and on about arms for some reason, grabbing at Benrey, losing it over standard protocol, yelling and talking and mneuh mneuh mneuh. He’d even been kinda rude to Tommy in the hall, which normally woulda been a deal-breaker, but afterwards the guy had glanced at Benrey with a sardonic half-smile, like they were in on a joke together, and whispered, “What a freak,” which had surprised Benrey so much that he’d outright cackled. Who just says shit like that?

Plus he’s got a nice laugh and a pretty good sense of humor, especially as they move through the facility together and he seems to relax a little more into talking with Benrey.

“—so i open up, and i blow balls in his mouth with my—”

“—you blow balls in his mouth with your Sweet Voice?!” the guy finishes, already throwing his head back in wheezy laughter. His freckled cheeks bunch up, his dark curls bounce with his laughter, and as the man’s unusually light eyes squeeze shut, Benrey bites his lip. He wonders what color those eyes are. Humans have limited colors, he knows, but maybe something that means calm, or brave, or maybe even safe?

Benrey will probably never know, but he finds he likes how those eyes look anyway. Even being mean and weird looks good on this guy. Really, the only thing he doesn’t like about his new friend is how weirdly much he seems to like to touch people. Benrey keeps having to dodge out of the way of the guy’s pinwheeling, grasping hands, even using his no-clip a few times to avoid em. At least the guy’s suit has gloves— if he’d tried to grab Benrey with bare hands Benrey would have absolutely clocked the guy, hotness be damned.

“Listen, man,” the guy’s saying now, wiping away a tear of mirth with a careful gloved finger. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. My name’s—”

“Ah, hello Gordon! And Security Officer Benrey, too!! Hmmm.” It’s one of the clone doctors. He stands up, mustache twitching as he regards Benrey and his new friend— Gordon, apparently. Weird name for a weird guy. “I must say I never would have thought to put you two together, but you do make a lovely pair!”

“We aren’t— we’re not a pair,” Gordon says quickly.

“yeah, he’s uh. apple,” Benrey says, just to be difficult, and because maybe hot guy will appreciate it.

“What? No, I—” Gordon breaks off with a chuckle. Fuck yeah, Benrey thinks, smug. “Actually, I think in this suit I’m probably more of an orange.”

“mm. lemon lime,” Benrey refutes.

“Nnno man, I think I’m definitely—”

“mountain berry blast.”

“Are y—? You’re just naming different flavors of Powerade, aren’t you—”

“fruit.”

He waits, and when Benrey doesn’t say anything else, stutters out a laugh. “There’s no such flavor as— you mean Fruit Punch?”

Benrey peeks up at Gordon through his lashes. “man, you want me to do what?”

Those light-toned eyes widen in shock. Then Gordon throws his head back in a howl of surprised laughter, and the relief and triumph that rockets through Benrey pulls a giggle out of him as well. He’s so wrapped up in the euphoria of Hot Guy Liking Qu/eer Joke that, for the second fuckin’ time, he fails to move out of the way before his new friend reaches out and makes contact.

Gordon’s hand comes down to grab at the juncture between Benrey’s neck and shoulder, leaning into him for support as the man wheezes himself to pieces, and the jolt that goes through Benrey roots him to the spot. He forgets to breathe for a moment, staring at the man beside him, so casually and freely touching him, when Benrey— Benrey—

Well, he grew up on stories about soulmates. Who didn’t? Like any youngling, he was entranced by the idea of reaching out and finally touching the right person, the one whose skin on yours would finally make the black-and-white world come to life. Personally, Benrey’d always hoped his soulmate would be romantic; he liked the idea of closing his eyes as he leaned in for his and his partner’s first kiss, only to pull away at last and find their eyes in sudden, perfect color.

But it’s been many years and a dozen different dimensions and Benrey’s world is still grey. He still hasn’t found his soulmate.

Good thing he doesn’t give a shit about finding them anymore.

No, really— he doesn’t need a soulmate. He doesn’t need anyone— he’s fine on his own, without the disappointments of trying and still finding a grey world, without anyone to tie him down. It’s why he doesn’t even let other people touch him skin-to-skin (or really at all) anymore: he just doesn’t want to know! He’d rather just travel a little, make some casual friends, and then pack up and be on his way.

He’s past the whole soulmate bullshit. He definitely doesn’t care.

But that doesn’t stop the thrill of electricity that goes through him when Gordon touches him, even with HEV gloves and a bulletproof vest between them, and that hopeful idiot deep inside Benrey thinks, maybe. Maybe, if I let him, maybe this time, please, please, please—

By the time Benrey’s gotten a hold of himself, Gordon has already pulled his hand away to run it attractively through his hair, hiccuping with laughter. Benrey definitely doesn’t miss the weight on his shoulder.

“Okay, we— we definitely got off on the wrong foot,” Gordon says, grinning down at him, light eyes merry. “Look, lemme just get this part of the HEV suit off and maybe we can try this again—”

“Take the HEV suit off?” says Dr. Coomer. Gordon jumps, and Benrey nearly does too— he’d completely forgotten there was another person here. “But Gordon, you were supposed to be in the test chamber nearly half an hour ago! Do you really think that now’s the time?”

“O-oh, well, I mean,” Gordon hedges, shifting uncomfortably, and some stupid part of Benrey holds its breath when that brings Gordon an inch or two closer. “If, if I’m already late, then— and I mean, this is kind of a big deal, so—”

“Gordon,” Coomer chides, “this experiment is a big deal— you mustn’t keep your colleagues and the scientific community waiting!”

“But— but it’ll take like two seconds, can’t I just—”

Coomer shakes his head with a tut, though his smile is sympathetic. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait until after the test.”

Gordon wilts. Pouting looks pretty good on him, but Benrey still feels kind of bad; even if he doesn’t get whatever dumb shit’s happening right now, it’s clearly a blow to his new friend. Benrey prefers the happier Gordon, the one who laughed at his jokes and played along.

He clears his throat over Gordon’s groaning and muttering. “this arm thing really that big a deal, bro?”

Gordon jerks his gaze towards Benrey, absolutely incredulous. “Yes, it’s a big fucking—!” He breaks off with a cough and rubs the back of his neck, looking away. “...well, I mean, not— I mean, it’s a big deal for some people, but I, I’m totally cool with waiting, if, if, if that’s what you want. N-not that I think that we’re definitely— I mean, that’s the whole point of checking, right? To, to, to make sure that we’re really— But you probably don’t— like, we probably aren’t, because then you would have just shown me your arm, so really this whole thing is, is, is just me being my stupid, typical—”

“chill,” Benrey says, and Gordon shuts his mouth with a click. “s’cool. even if you don’t have your passport, i guess i can make an exception.” Gordon blinks at him blankly; Benrey huffs a laugh. “i’ll show you my arm, man.”

Immediately Gordon straightens up, a grin breaking across his face, and Benrey has to look away because auhgghshdf jeeze dude’s so PRETTY what the fuck. “Really? You mean— you’re not just fucking with me?”

“not fuckin,” Benrey confirms, fiddling with the button on his sleeve through gloved fingers. “just— don’t touch?”

“Sure,” Gordon says, “Sure, yeah, no problem, no touching, I can do that—”

Miraculously, he shuts his pretty mouth as soon as Benrey undoes the button. As he carefully rolls up the sleeve, Gordon’s attention on him is intense, enough so that Benrey’s heart is going a little fast and he can feel his ears heating up. S’just his arm, what’s the big deal? But with the way Gordon’s holding so still, barely breathing, Benrey can’t help but feel a little nervous too. What if it’s somehow not up to code? Benrey’s pretty confident he’s got the human shape down, but…

At last he completes the final roll and extends his arm to Gordon, wrist up. Against his will his gaze is drawn to Gordon, feeling uncertain and weirdly hopeful.

Gordon doesn’t touch, but he does lift a hand to hover over Benrey’s arm. Benrey could swear he nearly feels the man’s fingers as he traces over the scant inch of air between them, goosebumps lighting up in their wake, the shitty fluorescent lights that reflect off his glasses making his expression impossible to parse.

Benrey swallows. “well? s’it okay? you, uh, you… like it?”

“...You don’t have a soulmark,” Gordon finally says.

“...huh?”

Gordon straightens up, putting a little distance between them, and Benrey drops his gaze to his own arm: the blue veins standing out maybe a little too much against his skin, enough muscle to do his job, more hair on one side than the other, as human as he could get it. Soulmark? What?

“Every— every human being in the world has a soulmark,” Gordon says, but it’s less like he’s telling Benrey than he’s talking to himself. “Everyone except you.”

“i’m. not human,” Benrey offers, baffled at the shift between them. Did he do something wrong?

But Gordon doesn’t seem to be listening. “And you, you said my words— and you don’t— but then, and, s-so… Ha. Haha!” He breaks out into laughter again, but Benrey doesn’t like this laugh: it’s forced, and it doesn’t sound at all like Gordon’s having fun. “Of course! Of fucking course! Because no one would— because even the fucking universe knows that, that I don’t— that of course no one could— because who, who would, who could stand Gordon fucking Freeman—”

“bro,” Benrey says, confused and more than a bit concerned. He tries to look his friend in the eyes but the guy’s looking at anything but Benrey now; even when Benrey puts himself in his path Gordon looks up and away, ranting to himself. Benrey growls a bit under his breath, because what the fuck. He raises his voice. “bro, can you chill?”

At that, Gordon stops, hands frozen in midair. “...you want me to chill?” he says, quiet.

“yeah?” says Benrey. “we were having fun and i don’t get what happened? can’t we—”

“You want me to chill because this isn’t fun? For you??”

Benrey blinks dumbly. “wha? no, man, you aren’t listening—”

“I’m not listening?” Gordon demands, his hands inching towards Benrey like he’s going to strangle him. Benrey takes a step back, because what the fuck. “I’m not listening?? You’re seriously saying that when, when, when you’re mine, but I, I’m not— not…”

But suddenly he goes limp like someone cut his strings, his hands falling loosely to his sides. The look on his face isn’t relaxed, though— it’s bleak, and tired, and angry. Gordon closes his light eyes with a sharp, painful breath.

“uh,” Benrey says, taking a careful step forward. “gordon? …bro?”

“Y’know what, man?” In a blink, Gordon has placed the helmet on his head, latching it shut and replacing that expressive, handsome face with unreadable black glass. “We’re not bros. We don’t know each other at all, and we don’t have to.” He places a gloved hand on Benrey’s shoulder, and even with the whiplash this conversation is giving him Benrey still finds himself leaning into it. “Let’s just forget this whole thing ever happened, yeah?”

“huh?” Benrey says, and then Gordon’s hand is gone and he’s striding away, leaving Benrey off-balance without Gordon there to steady him. “...wha?”

He stands there for a second, watching Gordon walk away, before Benrey clenches his fists. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily!” he calls, and marches after his new friend.

thanks to @sandelure for the idea that benrey's species uses a different soulmate-system-thing, which just felt so correct i had to write more :] there's like 2-3 more lil parts to this and then a happy ending! part four COMPLETE ON AO3!

[santigarcia]

Frustration

a Nathan Bateman x f!reader fic~

word count: 1.3k

rating: m - masturbation/voyeurism  

summary: Nathan has a crush on you and he’s grumpy about it. He’s got sexual frustration pent up and he need to do something about it. 

a/n: this smug beardy asshole lives in my mind RENT FREE i had to write about him some more

Frustration 

You get under Nathan’s skin and he hates it. He can’t quite put his finger on what it is about you that makes him crazy – and that’s what makes him crazy. Ever since you moved out here to help after his ‘incident’ he prefers to have real people around, even if they are more complicated than AI. But you, fuck, you make his head spin and he wish he knew why.

Maybe it’s because you’re exactly his type. Maybe you’re the most beautiful woman ever created. He doesn’t know if he believes in God, but he knows whoever made you was an artist. Everything you do makes his chest tighten. And he doesn’t have a damn clue what to do about any of it.

He knows you deserve better than an asshole like him anyways. So, he pushes whatever the hell he’s feeling down. Down deep. He used to drink to quiet his mind, now he drinks to get the thoughts of you out of his head.

But it doesn’t fuckin’ work.

He aches, he aches for you in a way he doesn’t understand.

He tries to break it down for himself in a scientific manner.

Ok. So, you’re a beautiful woman, and it’s chemicals in his body that make him want to be with you right? Just chemicals.

But it’s so loud, it’s so loud in his head. The thing is though you simultaneously quiet his mind with your presence. Your voice, your laugh. He’d burn the whole world down if anyone hurt you. He lives for that look in your eyes when you get flustered.

He has a damn crush on you and he’s mad about it.

He wakes one morning after having a very intimate dream about you, and he must go outside to box. He’s got to get this energy out. It’s a particularly cold morning, the chill washes over his arms. He sloppily wraps his hands, ready to punch away the images of you naked from his mind.

He’s never actually seen you naked, but fuck if he doesn’t want to know. He respects you enough that he turned off the cameras in your room. He might have peeked a few times, but you were always asleep or clothed. He feels slightly guilty about looking, but not even that he doesn’t peek occasionally.

He hits the bag hard. Trying to chase the dream away. He had you groaning and crying from pleasure, and he can’t get rid of how you sounded.

The chill of the air starts to feel good when he starts to sweat. The sweat on his brow not just from his exertion, but from the need building up inside of him. Adrenaline pumps through his veins. He’s hitting the bag hard; his knuckles will be bruised and tender later.

When it starts to rain and the temperature drops, he unwillingly heads inside.

He’s greeted with the sight of you in the kitchen, making some hot tea on this cold morning. You’re wearing an oversized sweatshirt; it hits your mid-thigh. You have long warm socks that go up to your knee. There’s a precious bit of bare skin on your legs that has him swallow harshly. Your hair is adorably messy, and you’re humming. You don’t know he’s there, or maybe you do.

“Hey,” he says, letting you know he’s there. And fuck was that his voice? It sounded like he was in pain.

Maybe because he is. He’s hard in his gym shorts and there’s no way you won’t notice when you turn around.

“Good morning!” your voice is cheery and sleep still clings to it. Fuck him you’re cute. “Are you alright?” you ask when you turn, your brow is furrowed.

“Worked out a little too hard,” he laughs. Wrong choice of words Bateman. He knows you see the look on his face, but you give him a gentle smile anyways. If you saw him hard through his pants he doesn’t know.

You’re accustomed to his quirks, so it’s not unusual when he darts out of the room.

He has a problem that he needs to take care of now. He thinks about a cold shower, but no. He needs the release.

Once he’s in his room he strips himself of his sweaty clothes and flops naked on his bed. His hand grabbing himself with need, and his groan is a little too loud. He thinks about you. Your smile. Your legs. How much he wants to suck on your tits. How badly he wants to smack your ass, have you whimper for him. Fuck he wants to kiss you. To hold you.

His hand speeds up, he’s groaning loudly, and he doesn’t care if you hear. Maybe this would solve his problem. He pushes the thought from his mind that you might not want him. He’s seen the shy smiles.

Those are his favorite, the little shy glances you give him when he’s being snarky. He loves when you sass him back too but shit those little shy grins. To die for.

He’s so close, the thoughts of you have him tipping over the edge and spilling all over his hand and stomach.

His physical need is satisfied, but he still has a need. He showers now and it doesn’t help. He still wants you, but at least his aching sexual need for the moment has quieted down.

He’d been afraid he wouldn’t be able to look at you after this, but he now wants to. Wants to see you. But it’s you now that can’t look at him.

When you’d finished making your tea, you took it back to your room. Maybe it was a glitch, he’s still ironing those out after the incident, but your TV turns on and there’s a video feed of a very naked Nathan jerking himself off. You almost turn it off, but when you hear your name fall from his lips you can’t turn your eyes away.

Nathan is sharp, he knows something is up when you can barely look him for the next couple days. You’re acting shyer than normal.

“So, what’s up?” he sits down in front of you in the living room one night. You were reading, but Nathan pulls the book from your hands, making you look at him. “Why won’t you look at me?”

“I-“ your eyes are big, pupils dilated.

Suddenly it clicks.

You start to stand up. You know he won’t be satisfied until he has his answer. And he knows you know that.

He grabs your wrist. He doesn’t even look at you when he speaks.

“I know you saw.”

His finger on your pulse point tells him all he needs to know.

“You liked it. Didn’t you?”

Your heart is beating faster.

“You heard me say your name.” He let’s go of your wrist, and he stands now in front of you. He watches your face; your eyes are dark with arousal. You’re trembling.

He mentally yells at himself; he doesn’t want to scare you away. His next move is a gentler one, he lightly cups your face in his hands. And he watches you melt into his touch. That’s it. A smile grows that look of arousal still in your eyes.

He doesn’t know who closes the gap between you, but he shudders to kiss you finally. You haven’t stopped trembling in his arms, and he’s endeared by it.

When you break apart for air, he looks at you. His dark brown eyes full of a softness you don’t see much.

“I know I’m an asshole, and you deserve better than me. But would you give me a chance?”

“Yes,” you giggle and lean up to kiss his cheek. Fuck he felt that in his dick. “And next time I’m so desirable that you have to leave to go jerk off will you let me know? I can help with that.”

Fuck.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “Yeah I will kitten. You wanna, help me out now?” He pushes his hips forward into you, his arousal against your thigh is unmistakable.

When you lean into him, he sighs in relief. His dreams of you is about to become a reality.

xx

tagging: @aliciaxglasgow​, @arabellathorne​, @bucky-j-barnes​, @coaaster​, @velvetmel0n​, @darksideofclarke​, @dindisneydjarin​, @djarinsbxbyy​, @eternallyvenus​, @feelmyroarrrr​, @ghosttofcalum​, @himbopoes​, @huliabitch​, @jubileetion​, @knittingqueen13​, @mandoplease​, @marvel-dameron​, @melanietrancy​, @mylifeliterally​, @ntlmundy​, @paintballkid711​, @pascalplease​, @pascalz​, @perropascal​, @phoenixhalliwell​, @punkpascal​, @rewritingstarrs​, @savagethewhale​, @saved-fanfiction​, @shadow-assassin-blix​, @stanningtoomanypeopleatonce​, @thehippiequilter​, @this-cat-is-dea​, @tintinwrites​, @wakalas​, @woakiees​, @writefightandflightclub​, @xremember-me-notx​

[cake-writes]

Reparations

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: fucked up relationship dynamics due to shared trauma, enemies to lovers (kind of), smut, femdom, edging, begging, breeding kink, fluff if you squint, 18+

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: written whilst listening to this & this. i’m clearly in my feels tonight lmao

At first, Bucky almost thinks you don’t remember.

The two of you are at a seedy bar in the middle of nowhere, on a mission that neither of you particularly want to be on, but he’s here, you’re here, and you’re doing your best to make it work. As always. You’ve never gotten along at the best of times because there’s always been some tension there burning under the surface, ready to boil over, just waiting to come out—

And Bucky’s always waiting.

He waits, because he knows that he’s the cause.

He waits, but the fire doesn’t come. The anger. The resentment he deserves. It’s been over a year since the two of you started working together, for good things this time, and nothing. No discussion. Not yet.

Not until you corner him back by the bathrooms – shove him back against the wall and tell him in no uncertain terms with those pretty painted lips that you’re going to fuck him when you get back to the motel. Fuck him ‘til he’s begging for you, ‘til he forgets his own name – and then you’ll ride his face, too, if he’s lucky.

Want your mouth on me. But only if you behave.

It’s not a proposition, but a demand, one so unyielding that it has him unravelling at the seams before he can even finish his drink. His heart races at the look in your eyes – dark, dangerous, and full of fire. It’s burning on the outside, now, and that’s when he knows that you remember. Or maybe you always have, and you’ve had enough of the tension. You’re tired of it.

A couple drinks in, and this is how you’ll get your reparations from him.

For the unspeakable things he did to you in the Red Room, where the Soldier forced you and molded you into something unbreakable – but now, the cracks are starting to show. He’s not the only one going to therapy to process the past. He’s not the only one who’d been forced to do things he didn’t want to do.

This, he does. 

Because he’s always had a certain fondness for you despite your brisk demeanour. He can’t explain it; what he did to you, he did to Natasha, too, and while making amends with her was similarly difficult – he never felt like this with her. Never wanted this with her.

This, he wants. This, he craves.

You.

Bucky’s punishment is desire.

It feels like electricity running through his veins when you push him back onto the bed, never mind the order you give him to keep his hands off. And he does, of course he does, because this is meant to be a punishment, one that certainly doesn’t disappoint. It feels like hellfire when you use your fingers and your lips and your cunt to tease him ‘til he’s flushed and delirious, and all that’s rolling off his lips anymore are broken pleas of, “Please, darlin’, please.”

Need you. Want you.

Please.

Bucky doesn’t know if he means stop or continue. He can’t think anymore.

You edge him so many times he loses count. You ride him until your thighs quake, but you still don’t let him touch. His face burns hot from the tension, from the denial, from the desperation that has him begging you to put him out of his misery, but what you respond with is the anger – the aggression – and it’s pure, unbridled torture in the best way.

It’s what you want. It’s what he craves.

And then, when you’re finally, finally satisfied – when you’ve gotten yours at least three times but he really can’t be sure of anything anymore – you slide off of him and give him this shy little smile that breaks him even more.

“It’s your turn,” you tease. “How do you want me?”

And his brain almost short-circuits at the question, because he’s been so focused on doing what he can do for you that it takes him a second to process what you’re asking. What does he want?

You. Just you.

His voice is hoarse when he finally rasps, “On your back.”

Your brows raise for a moment at his answer – maybe expecting something different, but he doesn’t care because he’s too focused on the gorgeous way you’re leaning back on your elbows, now, and spreading your silky legs for him. All for him.

Prettiest fuckin’ thing he’s ever seen.

There’s your soft laugh, and then, “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

And that’s when he realizes he must have said what he was thinking out loud, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in your eyes, now – a little less darkness than before, but they’re still bright as ever in the moonlight cascading through the blinds. Bright, and maybe a little nervous.

Bucky swallows – feels the sudden dryness in his throat. 

“No,” is what he answers, though, coming to lay in between your spread thighs, vibranium arm holding his weight beside your head. “Just you.”

Another quiet giggle as he lines himself up, and then he presses in – and your laughter is promptly replaced by a gasp. You’re still so slick and tight despite everything you’ve already done – but what really drives him crazy is the way you wrap your legs around his waist to draw him closer.

It’s intimate. It’s good. It’s you.

“Shit, Bucky,” you whimper, burying your face in his neck as your arms clutch around his back. Your hands are fumbling – nails dig into his ass, drag up his spine, and he feels you squirming beneath him, hears your breath going shallow, knows it’s working for you. You just can’t stay still, and he loves the way your body reacts.

It’s working for him, too. He’s been on the edge for so long, now, that he won’t last. He can smell the sweet scent of your shampoo coupled with your sweat and the sex in the air. Sweat dots his brow and he can feel your warmth, your tight heat, your lips on his neck—

“I’m close,” he whispers a breathy warning into your ear. “Where should I—?”

Your legs squeeze him tighter, draw him closer, and then you breathe, “Inside. Come inside.”

But having to always be so careful in the 40s is so ingrained in him that his hips stutter—

“Christ, darlin’,” he swears, fisting the pillow above your head to keep himself from blowing straight away. “You can’t just say that—”

But hell if it doesn’t work for him.

“Fill me up,” you encourage him, spreading your legs just a little more, letting him inside just a little deeper. “Wanna feel you. Want you dripping out of me for days.”

And this time, Bucky’s brain does short-circuit, because the 21st century concept of being able to casually finish inside a woman with little risk of pregnancy does things to him. It’s taboo. But god, it’s so good, and he can’t help himself. He shoves himself inside you as far as he can go – comes so fucking hard he practically sees fireworks, because you’ve edged him for so long that he loses another piece of himself with each hot rope of cum he spills inside of you. 

He feels you clench down around him and has some vague realization that his climax has triggered yours, but he’s so damn high he can barely even think.

And then, after he’s come back to himself and gently withdraws, aftercare comes in the form of a warm washcloth he fetches for you, and then he slides into bed beside you – your bed, one of the two in the motel room you’re sharing. Much to his surprise, you let him join you. You let him wrap his arms around you. You rest your head on his chest and trail a finger up and down through the coarse hair there.

It’s clear you’re lost in your thoughts, but so is he. Shared trauma between the two of you hangs heavy in the air, resentment forever unspoken.

“That helped a little,” is what you offer instead. That’s all you can give him yet.

Neither of you have properly acknowledged it to each other, but he knows what you mean. A soft kiss to your forehead is enough for him to convey his response – that he understands, and an even softer kiss to your lips is his apology. 

When you kiss him back, he understands what you mean, too:

It’s not okay, but it will be.

He’s not the only one healing. So are you.

fin

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Stu Macher Sugar Daddy AU Headcannons.

So back when I did Kinky December, to close out that super fun event, I wrote this, fun little peice, an AU story about an older Stu Macher being your sugar daddy and it was on my mind and figured fuck it, why not do a personal headcannon post for this AU? If you like this and got any additions or ideas, have it, shoot me an ask or something! I like to think in this AU Stu has some big job he got via family connections in the financial district in New York and also while he and Billy have some certain tastes, they never indulged fully but that is part of where you come in! So let's get into it under the cut.

This is a sex worker positive space and sex work is valid work, if you don't think so, move on.

Rating: NSFW. Length: 1.5K. Warnings: Daddy Kink. General Poly!Ghostface Fuckery.

-Stu and you start this with the explicit implication of what your relationship was meant to be. He found you through the site you advertise yourself through for sugaring. The usual protocol followed after that. A date to determine how compatible you both were and you were both kind of surprised by how well you got along on that first date.

-You both obviously wanted to see each other again and so after discussing the usual things, expectations, wants, needs, allowance, and so the arrangement began officially.

-Neither of you expected how quickly it would escalate or how well you would truly get along. You and Stu got on like a house on fire. Conversation was lively and frequent, he was true to his word and gave even more than initially promised. Money was seemingly no object, he would pick up the tab without question, and would surprise you frequently.

-You dropped your other regular dates shortly after that. He didn’t ask you to but it was something you wanted to do, simply wanted to spend as much time as possible with him and be available whenever he needed and money wasn’t an issue at all anymore.

-It wasn’t just a business relationship anymore, developed into more than that and you couldn’t be happier about it.

-Yes you do call him Daddy, but not explicitly in public a lot of the time, something he asks, but it makes the times he TELLS you to call him it in public that much hotter. He calls you tons of pet names and you love it.

-He takes the title seriously. He actually CARES for you. It is about a hell of a lot more than just the sexual angle.

-You would stay over at Stu’s constantly, loved his place and he loved to have you around. He still insisted that you have your own place, paid for by him of course, he would even come by on occasion but much preferred to go out or have you over at his place. He liked you having your own space in case you ever needed it and didn’t want to intrude on YOUR space, even tho it was intruding at all.

-He loves to bring you to work events and show you off. Not just how you look and how well you are dressed and the finery he buys for you to trot you out in but also with the intelligent and insightful things you have to say and contribute. He also may or may not have given you pointers on shit pertaining to the business he was in prior to the event to make you look even better than you already were. You had done the going to work functions thing in your line of work a lot and were no slouch and it was something else that made this set up all the better.

-What is your poison because my God Stu is gonna be giving you it so much. You a fan of high end coffee? Yup you can count on him bringing you one or asking you out for coffee, dropping one off or sending someone over with one or hell getting an expensive and personal machine installed in your kitchen. You like getting your nails done? Well fuck how much babe, let him flash some cash and let you go get the most crazy nails your heart desires. You a foodie or a total lush? Lucky you! He loved going out to eat and for drinks. Or do you have a total shoe fetish? You getting any and all pairs of shoes you have ever even remotely laid your eyes on with even mildly passing interest. Clothes too duh, he loves to dress you up.

-So what interests you? Because Stu is interested in it now as well. He could listen to you go on about what was important to you for literal hours and you better believe he uses every little bit of info to better spoil you! While he loved to get you the more obvious things, food, clothes, money, basic luxuries you better believe he would get you items especially tailored to your hobbies and likes.

-Any place you ever wanted to travel too? Oh what a wild coincidence! All of a sudden a beautifully planned and paid for trip that Stu just HAPPENS to have tickets as well as his scheduled opening up all MAGICALLY coincides and you have the best time.

-The sex is insane. I mean duh, of fucking course, that happened early and often and was a big factor in determining your compatibility. He loved to spoil you in that way too, lingerie and toys and lavishing you with attention. My God he sure liked to use that mouth of his for more than just talking.

-He loves semi-public stuff. Loves pushing boundaries too. He adores going out for dinner with you looking just so dressed up and gorgeous and not being able to wait to get back to his place and fucking you in the back of the towncar on the way home.

-Having you suck him off under his desk at work on a lunch break.

-Having you ON that desk after hours.

-Fucking you on literally every surface of his apartment.

-So it doesn’t stay just Stu, you know that right? Once he is sure that you are an amazing fit he introduces you to Billy. Tells you that they have been friends for-fucking-ever and that you both liking eachother was important to him.

-You get along great with him too. You loved to see how they were together, he brought out this side in Stu that was so fun, not like he wasn’t fun usually but it was just kinda different, more playful you could say.

-You realize that you are introduced to Billy for more than just friendship.

-You are not opposed to this at all. You ask if they have done this before and the answer is yes. Sharing partners? Yep. Just them being together? Yes. Swapping? Naturally. Billy was hot and fun and treated you well too and again, the sex was fuckin’ good.

-So when the three of you were fully into the swing of this arrangement it was really fucking good. Plus you were literally never lonely. Some dates were just Stu and some were both and if Stu ever had to go out of town for some reason and you couldn’t come, well then Billy got you all to himself.

-He would insist that you stay at his place during those times to- “Properly keep an eye on you.” and you did not complain. Nights in with take-out that ended with you both on the couch or the mornings you’d share a shower before he had work or coming to his office all dressed up with lunch to impress his co-workers and maybe give him some head under his desk just like you do for Stu, all amazing.

His place was nice and you loved getting to have some time with just him, it was a great change of pace and Stu would love to come back to see you two being even closer.

-Stu coming back was so good too because of how he treated you when he missed you, a big date was a must after he was away and the way he fucked you after was specatular. The way he would whisper to you, asking about what you did this week and wanting to be filled in on all the dirty details of what you did with his best friend while he was away. You were all too happy to fill him in.

-Billy and Stu have some particular tastes. They suggest a weekend away, they have a game they want to play with you and you tentatively agree. You trust them both with your life and when you worded it that way the look they shared with a smirk should have been telling.

-A big rented beach house, a phone call, a “break in”, ropes and knives and costumes and more and oh my fucking God you got it. You understood it and were hooked and when it was all said and done and the ropes were being untied and you were still coming down with stars in your eyes and them praising the literal fuck out of you that they let it slip how often they had fantasized about this. That part of why they picked you, because Billy had been a bit more involved in the process of selecting you than you were initially made aware of, was how good they thought you would look being fucked by knifepoint.

-By what a-"pretty little victim you’d make” and well you knew you would be doing this again sometime. And it becomes a semi-regular occurrence in your sex lives.

-You spoil Stu in all kinds of ways. You surprise him with meals he loves, surprise visits when he is working, dropping in with the sweetest gifts, you try to remember all the little things he likes and love to listen to him. He knows he is in deep when you are traveling somewhere together the next day, a vacation, he works that day, comes back to his apartment to find you packed for him. You paid such close attention to detail and he felt so seen and appreciated.

-You do all the little things. Making breakfast the way he likes when you stay over, keeping in mind which clothes and lingerie he likes on you best, making notes when he particularly likes something you do or a color you wear.

-You still have your own life outside of your relationship. Friends and freedom, independence and it is all fucking great.

[anunvalidcritic]

Justice League: Snyder Cut

(DISCLAIMER: MY OPINION IS MY OWN AND CAN BE DEEMED INVALID TO THOSE WHO DON’T CARE FOR IT.)

Oh, the time has come my friends! Now, I originally did a review on Batman V.S. Superman and I didn’t care for it, so I deleted it. But before I start, I would like y’all to read this statement made by @verified-villain-fxcker - You can click HERE to read it. As I stated in my repost, I couldn’t have said it better. May Autumn Snyder continue to rest in peace. Let’s get started!

It’s been so long since I’ve made a post I can’t even remember how I do this LOL.

CLARK is outta there to say the least...

WONDER WOMAN and LOIS look flabbergasted, as they should... BRUCE as well.

Talk about a shock-wave scream 

All jokes aside, the hate that LEX has towards SUPERMAN is just to much energy to be giving to another person..

THESE BITCHIES ARE READY

why are they letting a minority approach the fucking the cube?!?!

*insert travel montage scene here*

                      Part 1 - “Don’t count on it, Batman.”

BRUCE knows damn well he’s talking to AQUAMAN. Let’s move this shit along lol

“Oh Gotham? How’s that shit hole?” - AQUAMAN

Ik these bitchies aren’t singing rofl

I’d sniff anything wore by Jason Momoa too.

“Maybe a man who broods in a cave isn’t cut out to be a recruiter.” - ALFRED

TALK YO SHIT ALFRED!!!!

AMY ADAMS can literally take my heart, step on it, throw it in a river and I still wouldn’t be mad. 

Here comes the lovely WONDER WOMAN!

broooo her hands were moving like Donnie Yen in Ip Man!

Fucked that entire ceiling up

Ofc the one who tried to touch it would make the stupid statement. 

STEPPENWOLF is really wildin’ out

Don’t look back! I hate it when they look back!!

These are some strong as women!

                             PART 2 - “The Age of Heroes”

“It’s toxic, that’s good.” - STEPPENWOLF

I can only imagine that this is how toxic people think. 

this dude really just threw that lil demon fella like it was nothin’ lmao

You know you're working at a job for too long when you say this is the first time in a while that they're going home early smdh

Now that shit was pretty lit....

SILAS thinkin’ shit I better check on my son. 

“You know a lot about monsters, don’t you? Especially how to make them.” - CYBORG

If that isn’t teen angst, then I don’t know wtf is lmao

Seeing Gal in this tomb makes me want to re-watch Wonder Woman 1 all over again!

DARKSEID ol’ trifflin’ ass

plopped him down like he was dirty laundry

God bless Willem Dafoe, this man is a fuckin’ legend!

“This world is divided. They’re a primitive species. Unevolved and at war with one another. Too separate to be one.” - STEPPENWOLF

DeSaad kinda looks like Doctor Doom in the Fantasic Four reboot lmao

GREEN LATERNS!!!!!!!!!!!! OH SHIT!!!!!!!!

we really need a Green Lantern Corps moving...

ZEUS + ARES = A Dynamic Duo When They Aren’t Being Dicks To Each Other

You know I feel bad for man because all they did was bury that shit in the ground rofl

                  Part 3 - “Beloved Mother, Beloved Son”

BARRY + IRIS = Love at First Sight 

The burger can’t be that good like damn. 

Bro the detail on his fucking shoes and the glass!!

ROFL PLEASE TELL ME HE TOOK THE HOTDOG FOR HIS DOG!?!? 

damn did the car really need to explode...

lol BARRY must really need the job lol

... I would’ve just played dead after he threw me against that rock...

Man of Steel probably has one of the best soundtracks not just for a superhero movie but just in general

Americans love their football!

I have this love-hate relationship with CYBORG being in the JL and not with the TITANS you know since he’s a kid, but he’s a college student in this one. 

Thank God DIANA spoke with VICTOR instead of BRUCE because I honestly don’t think he would’ve gotten him on board.

Everyone can literally zigzag zoom across this planet at undeniable speed except for BATMAN lol

Come on, VIC, help the lady out.

You know honestly, BARRY has a pretty cool pad for someone who's trying to get by paying for a Criminal Justice Degree. 

“A very attractive Jewish boy. Who drinks milk, I don’t drink milk.” - BARRY

“Fuck the World.” - CYBORG

dang Ik DIANA has every right to grieve over STEVE, but damn that man has her whipped!

“You’re looking at the hottest thing on Earth. The exact same thing I said to my prom date. She dumped me anyway.” - RYAN CHOI

Why does MERA have an accent in this but not in AQUAMAN?? (ik the answer)

DAAAYYUUUMMMN MERA TURNED INTO A WHOLE BLOOD BENDER!

                               PART 4 - “Change Machine”

CYBORG just glided over silently

STEPPENWOLF + WONDER WOMAN = EPIC FIGHT SCENE

Seeing BARRY move like that to stop the debris and to ping DIANA’S sword really is amazing..

But he should not be screaming like that LOL

How do you not remember the planet that’s habitants almost killed you?? Because if that was me, I wouldn’t have forgotten that shit at all!

 Would've held a big ass grudge until I could go back. 

“I know we’re all thinking the same thing right now. Who’s gonna say it? I’m not gonna say it.” - BARRY

WOOOAAHHH J’ONN JONES?! (forgot about that)

 “There are six, not five. There is no us without him.” - BRUCE

Damn, no faith at all 

                         PART 5 - “ALL The King’s Horses”

ICONIC DIALOGUE

BARRY - “Wonder Woman. What do you think, man? You think she’d go for a younger guy?”

VICTOR - “She’s 5,000 years old, Barry. Every guy is a younger guy.”

I would’ve kept swippin’ that ID like a cashier at Wal-Mart swippin’ a debit card.

They're movin’ a little too slow for me. Ik they’ve never been on the ship before, but I would’ve been zoomin’ through that entire ship just to hurry and get the job done. 

NOT THE PREGNANCY TEST

Damn, they couldn’t have at least picked up the photo??

The foreshadowing was spectacular! It will always amaze me. 

I’m sure Allstate will cover that person’s car...

Just when LOIS was about to move on. 

CLARK grabbed DIANA like miss me with that Rafiki shit.

I would’ve come back to my senses too after looking at Amy Adams. 

AQUAMAN + THE FLASH = A CONUNDRUM

DR. SILAS takin’ one for the team

                              PART 6 - “Something Darker”

As crazy as radiation is, it’s quite an amazing spectacle.

I wish this Justice League movie could’ve held off until we got some other heroes such as the Green Lanterns, Hawkgirl, and many others. 

Our generation was truly blessed to have an incredible actor as SUPERMAN, and we are not putting him to use!

JONATHAN sounds like President Biden lol

Alright, team?! Break!

AQUAMAN is totally enjoying this fight. He rode that Parademon like a surfboard.

AQUAMAN + CYBORG + FLASH = *THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN*

I swear every scene that WONDER WOMAN enters into does not fail to include the “Ancient Lamentation Music”. 

VICTOR hurry up and say “one” god damnnit!!

SUPERMAN COLD!!!!

Somebody needs to put this fight on WorldStar

BARRY = HE’S A RUNNA HE’S A TRACK STAHHHHARRR!!!

THAT WAS FUCKING IMMACULATE

The Unity  = The Three Bitchies

I bet DARKSEID will remember that shit now

                        EPILOGUE - “A Father Twice Over”

VICTOR = A Final Requiem

LOL VULKO and MERA look stressed tf out!

“Uh, I have too much to live for. And more important things to do.” - LEX

A cocky motherfucker LMAO

Alright, we’re back in this type of dream sequence. 

“Who have you ever loved?” - MERA

Uh, bitch his parents, Robin tf?!

Thank you, JOKER, for stating the facts for Ms. Fish-stick

 Oh shit, they let LOIS die, goddamn it!

HARLEY’S DEAD TOO?!?!?!

BRUCE LOOK SICK AF!!!

Well, the dream is over once again...

I just don’t see how people can live with all those fuckin’ windows. 

“Oh, and some have called me The Martian Manhunter.” - J’ONN

Alright...

________

Yes, the movie was long but what needed to be expressed was. As we already the Snyder Cut wasn’t supposed to be seen because a father simply wanted to grieve the death of his child. I’ll once again reiterate what @verified-villain-fxcker you don't have to like the film but at least give it the benefit of the doubt from its predecessor. For me, I did enjoy watching his version, but let’s be honest what he who shall not be named did was just fucked up. 

[butwhatifidothis]

3H and Bleach: Where the Fuck am I

So, I’m finally hunkering down and trying to write out this post lmao. I’ve mentioned here and there how my personal experience with the 3H’s fandom is similar to my experience with the Bleach fandom’s in more than one way, and - look. Like, I get there’s definitely a semi-universal thing that goes on across all fandoms. I don’t mean for this to say that this only happens within these two fandoms, because duh, of course they don’t. But!! This post is partly me wanting to air years long annoyance towards the Bleach fandom that just so happens to coincide with my feelings towards the 3H fandom, sooo... yeah lmao

I’ll probably be skimming over some bits about 3H, since most people who come across this will already be familiar with what I’d be talking about in that regard vs Bleach, so just a heads up

Note: This is gonna talk about Bleach which will spoiler territory (writing this off the cuff so not sure where this is goin’ yet lmao but I know that much), so if you don’t wanna see that then don’t read this post lol, I know for sure I’ll be spoiling something ahhhh... noticeable, lol

Ableism against the mentally ill

Now, most people reading this post will be familiar with the blog and how this very, very much applies to 3H, but for the sake of this post I’ll lay it out anyway with a brief summary

Dimitri and Rhea are both characters within 3H that suffer from severe trauma that heavily impacts their mental state. Both are the sole survivors of a horrific slaughter, with that slaughter redefining who they are and leaving a permanent marker within their minds in some way (Dimitri with having auditory and visual hallucinations, Rhea with having obsessive tendencies towards bringing her mother back from the dead). Specifically in CF, both characters are set up in the plot as antagonists, with both characters having to relive their trauma in some way due to the actions Byleth and Edelgard take against them (for Dimitri, having his home be razed to the ground and everyone he cares for dying around him, for Rhea having someone use her mother’s mutilated remains be used to end her and her race) and express extreme anger towards Byleth and Edelgard before they are killed to progress/end the story

Now, uh, sad shit right? Not exactly fuckin’ happy sunshine rainbows. These two characters are put through the wringer and are then murdered. They are rightfully not the fuckin’ happiest because of what happened to them before and what happens to them within the present story. But we’ve heard it all before: “They were crazy!” “They couldn’t be reasoned with!” “They had to be put down out of mercy because they were too ~far gone~ to live happily!” “They needed to be killed for the good of everyone!” It’s an extremely ableist rhetoric that gets passed around the fandom as though it’s totally fine to directly state that mentally ill people should be put down if they’re deemed a “lost cause.” Especially worrying because. You know. If they are a “”””lost cause”””” then it’s directly and specifically because of actions Byleth and Edelgard take against them. 

But how does this remind me of Bleach? What kind of similar extreme, worrying ableism exists there? Well, let me introduce to best girl a certain character with... a reputation, to say the least:

Meet Momo Hinamori.

Holy shit it’s so weird writing this out because I’ve been wanting to for years but have never worked up the nerve to do it lol

It should be noted, in the Bleach verse there’s two worlds out of three - Soul Society and Hueco Mundo, though I’ll only be talking of the former - that deal with “souls” (the essence within a living human). Souls age far more slowly than human bodies do in terms of body, not necessarily the mind (so a teenage soul will likely behave as such for a long while) so keep in mind that I’m going to be using numbers that may seem weird to someone who hasn’t seen Bleach lol.  With that out of the way, here’s a similar, if longer for context to those who haven’t seen Bleach, summary for Momo’s character as it relevant to this post:

Momo is a character in Bleach that grows a deep admiration towards Sosuke Aizen, a respected captain of the military force called the Gotei 13. She comes to views him as the most important person in her world due to him both noticing and paying direct attention to her as well as saving her and her friends’ lives during a training mission gone wrong while she was younger. Note that “younger” here means 40 years ago from the start of the story. Aizen would praise her all the time, allow her to sleep over in his quarters, would drape his cloaks over her when she looked cold, and would overall treat Momo as though he was his daughter for most of the time we see them interact in the beginning portions of the show. Note that none of this is sexual in nature, nor is it ever implied to be seen as such. That’ll be important later in this post

To make a long story short, Aizen comes to betray her. He stabs her through the chest and shows and tells her that she never meant anything to him, throughout the 40 years they’ve known each other (which, mind, for a soul Momo’s approximate age 40 years is still a noticeable amount of time), and he was only using her to help bolster his image as a loveable captain so that he can hide his plan from everybody that much easier. He did horrible things to Momo - from setting her alarm clock back to a later time so that she would more likely come across his pinned, bloody fake corpse. to framing her childhood friend for the apparent murder and tricking her into fighting that friend, to far later in the series tricking that friend into stabbing her (hypnosis shit, to sum that up) for literally no stated reason - that ended up mentally breaking her. She couldn’t believe that the last four decades were all nothing but lies and she fell into a deep denial about Aizen’s true nature - someone else made him do everything he did, she must have missed something that would have warned her about Captain Aizen’s unfortunate situation that forced Captain Aizen to hurt her and everyone else. This denial would take the majority of Bleach’s entire runtime for her to get over completely, with her having hiccups in her recovery even as she works up the nerve to fight him.

Now, uh, also not the fuckin’ funnest of times to be had here. The deep, long-running mental and psychological manipulation of what approximates as a teenage girl from a trusted older figure is something that is very clearly horrific and bad of the older figure, right? Like, we’re on the same page here on that?

This wouldn’t be in this post if that was the case. No, Momo was the one constantly on fire for what happened to her. She was one of the most hated characters in the western audience, and there were endless jokes about “lol look at Momo, the pincushion!” “Crazy bitch Momo, better watch out!” making fun of her and her trauma relentlessly. If you managed to find a Momo fan in the early 2000′s you should have also bought a lotto ticket because holy fuck, everyone hated her. She acted in a startlingly real if deeply uncomfortable way in regards to years long manipulation and she was lambasted for it. She didn’t immediately get over decades long psychological abuse and she was called useless, weak, a horrible representation of female characters, stupid - you name it, she was likely called it. To this day I still tense up when I hear that someone likes Bleach and they mention Momo at all because I’m always thinking “does this person think this abuse victim is dumb for being abused?”

Dimitri, Rhea, and Momo are all victim-blamed to a disgusting degree in the 3H and Bleach fandoms. Dimitri and Rhea are always hit with “well if Dimitri hadn’t have fought back against Edelgard/Rhea caused the “”tyranical systems” in the first place, nothing would have happened to them!” and Momo was constantly hit with” well, it’s not Aizen’s fault Momo was so clingy to him, what could he have done!” and I get so fuckin’ mad dude.

But for Dimitri and Momo specifically, there’s one thing in particular that caught my attention:

The “Rejection Theories”

This had my head spinnin’ a bit when I first heard it, cuz I had managed to avoid the theory for a while in the 3H’s fandom, but apparently a sizeable amount of people seem to believe that Dimitri wasn’t just mad at Edelgard in the Holy Tomb because of... you know *waves hand* fuckin’ everything, but that the primary reason for his anger was that Edelgard... rejected his advances to her? And that the dagger he gave to her when they were 13 was a phallic symbol of baby Mitri’s want to have sex with Edelgard? And. Like. What in the fuck are you talking about. 

But like?? Bleach did this shit too with Momo?? It was also a sizeable amount of people - not everyone, but a noticeable amount - that believed that Momo was just mad that Aizen wouldn’t sleep with her? You’d see it pop up in fics so often, that Momo would want Aizen to fuck her and she’d “go crazy” when he denied her and Momo was actually just this shallow bitch who wanted a good fuck like... what.

Like, when I first heard the Phallic Dagger take the first thing that came to mind is “wait Momo was also accused of just wanting to have sex with the person who traumatized her wtf” 

“Actually it was the perpetrators that should be forgiven because lonely and also some shit about ruling better”

Those in the 3H fandom know how often the “Edelgard was lonely!” line gets thrown by just about every one of her stans. Edelgard was lonely and couldn’t trust anyone, so of course she did what she did! If she had someone near her she could trust she wouldn’t have acted like she does in the rest of the game! Nevermind that she “gets” this in CF in the form of Byleth and still acts just as shittily as she does in the other routes, or how being a little lonely doesn’t fuckin’ mean you get to start war. But anyway, we also hear that Edelgard was justified in doing what she did because her ruling Fodlan would have lead to more peace in the end, once she got rid of the power structures in place now (except that doesn’t happen but whatev I guess lmao)

Aizen? He was lonely too! He was far too strong for anyone to truly be able to understand him, and so he tragically fell down a dark path. If he had known someone who could be considered an equal to him he would have never done all the horrible things he did. And the Soul Society is unjust! It needs to be reformed! So him slaughtering hundreds of thousands of souls at the minimum to harvest all of their power to use as his own is justified because it’ll be used to create a more just society under his rule!

Like. Y’all. Lowkey? I’m so fuckin’ glad Edelgard proved herself to be just as fuckin’ awful with Byleth as without because this shit drove me up the fuckin’ wall back in the day. There was 0 ways to prove that Aizen would damn sure be just as fuckin’ bad if he had an “”equal”” to stand by him than if he didn’t, and I get to kinda be right because without fundamentally changing these characters’ backstories they would not give two flying shits about whether or not they had someone “equal to them” (which is still kinda degrading to think about anyway).

Now, this is where I move away to a different topic lol

A split in the narrative cause divides in the fandom

With 3H houses this is really fuckin’ easy to point at: there’s 4 routes, three consistent stories and one radically different story, and that difference in story causes heavy contention within the fandom. It’s very obvious so I won’t go over it much.

But how in the fuck is there a divide in Bleach? It’s not a fuckin’ Choose Your Own Adventure manga, it’s an anime and manga showing off the characters of Bleach’s stories and interactions (with, you know, plot and shit thrown in).

Well. It’s more accurate to say the anime told a story about the characters, and the manga told... the story about the characters.

In terms of plot, the anime didn’t change much from the manga, but hoo fuckin’ boy, did they change shit about some of the characters. Specifically, they changed a shit ton about three characters: the two main protagonists, Ichigo and Rukia, and another main character, Orihime.

Orihime. Got. Fucked.

The anime would make her far more ditzy and clumsy, her crush (turned growing love later on in the story) for Ichigo during more deeper moments that showcases her feelings for him were downplayed if not removed entirely in exchange for talking or thinking about food, key moments she has with Ichigo early in the manga were cut or deadass changed to something else in the anime, some key moments with her relationship with Rukia were cut, her backstory was watered down - so much of Orihime was fucked with in the anime (her fuckin’ introduction was changed drastically). Meanwhile Ichigo and Rukia were given moments that didn’t exist in the manga, they have filler arcs (remember those lmao) that would be stuffed with shit ton of moments for them that have no basis in the manga, other characters would change their behavior from the manga to reflect a sort of “thing” going on between Ichigo and Rukia.

Look, guys, the anime fucked up so bad the fucking mangaka, Tite Kubo, has said he gets stomach aches watching the early anime because it was that awful. And this divide between the anime and manga’s portrayal of these three character helped spawn the ship war of Bleach: Ichiruki vs Ichihime (oh but more on that in a bit). It tanked Orihime’s popularity because people thought she was the stupid dumbass that would stumble ass first into situations when that wasn’t her character at all. And because the majority of anime watchers only watch the anime... yeah, you can see where this went. So just like in 3H in Bleach you have these radically different tellings of the same characters that drove a big-ass wedge in the fandom

Marketing

Imma be transparent, like I’ve said before I managed to avoid nearly every marketing tactic for 3H so it’s a tad hard for me to speak personally, but from what I’ve been told Edelgard was heavily marketed towards the player base pre-release. She was the poster child of 3H, she got the figma, she was in the spotlight - unless you cleansed your board of 3H content you knew exactly who she was. On top of that, it doesn’t stop in-game - loading screen messages would assume you picked BE, Adrestia is the first option to pick when you want to impress one of the lords in the prologue, the BE class is the first option to pick in choosing which route to play, every character has some moment in the game post ts where they express sympathy with the woman who waged war on them for five years (even characters with no business doing so, like Seteth entertaining the idea that maybe Edelgard isn’t that bad during Myrddin). With all of that good PR for Edelgard in and out of the game it heavily impacted how people saw her, and much of it is used by stans to justify her being a good guy (mostly in the game marketing) despite everything else in the game clearly showing that Edelgard is the bad guy

With Bleach in that regard... you have Ichiruki

holy shit it’s so weird talking about Ichiruki i’m still lowkey nervous about talking about them lmao

With Ichiruki stans, they would cling onto outside material that promoted Ichigo and Rukia together as proof that their ship was going to be canon. Spreadsheets, calendars, poems (some of which didn’t even apply to Ichigo and Rukia’s relationship but they insisted they did anyway), novels - outside material that either wasn’t canon or didn’t pertain to Ichigo and Rukia’s relationship. They would shove it in the face of Ichihime shippers that “see, we have all this stuff for us! We ain’t starving tonight!” when the canon (note: in the manga particularly) would clearly show Ichigo and Orihime’s relationship being the one that leans romantic in multiple significant ways. They would latch onto irrelevant shit that ain’t had nothin’ to do with anything and wave around as a paragon of romance when it literally wasn’t even canon

Just fuckin’ ignoring the creators deadass

Creators and developers of 3H: Edelgard is the typical Red Emperor the only difference is Girl

Stans: that’s just a headcanon

Kubo: Ichigo and Rukia have a platonic relationship and I’ve publicly said this since 2008

Stans, now, to this day: Ichigo and Rukia were robbed

Making people reject what they’re stanning for

I’ve seen a few people express that the more they interact with the fandom and see what her stans are doing, the more they grow to dislike Edelgard despite (some) initially liking or even loving her. To put it simply, the same thing happened with Ichiruki - hell, this happened with me with Ichiruki. I can’t fuckin’ stand the ship anymore because every time I think about it I’m reminded of the absolutely rancid, disgusting things Ichiruki stans have to done to others in the fandom, and even after nearly five years after Bleach has ended I still tense up when someone says they like Ichiruki over Ichihime precisely because of the behavior of the stans, just like I side-eye people who say Edelgard is the best lord. Do they like them because they simply prefer them over the other(s) and they’re not totally fuckin’ bonkers, or are they totally fuckin’ bonkers. 

And, like, that’s not fair! I know that! But I can’t help but think that when such a loud amount of people act in such deplorable ways just because someone didn’t like a bunch of lines on paper/pixels on a screen.

To all the nice Ichiruki and Edelgard fans, hope y’all are havin’ a nice day.

Long, crazy ass explanations as to why X =/= X (and if anything actually means Y)

Teacher theory for 3H. How Edelgard totally didn’t hire Kostas to kill Dimitri and Claude and was only thwarted because Claude booked it, but how she definitely actually meant to simply scare away the teacher that was with them so that Jeritza could be pulled from his already existing position in Garreg Mach to teach one class so that Edelgard can kinda keep a sorta closer eye on exactly one of the other classes (and just do shit all about the other one I guess), because Jertiza’d be able to gleam so much from teaching a class for a few hours a day I promise 

But for Bleach, you also have one particularly infamous theory positing shit that don’t real, with enough renown to be known by a specific name, and that’s the Lust Arc = Fail essay

To explain what the essay is about, I have to set the scene up a bit. Imagine, you, with your tiny little monkey brain, are watching Bleach, and you get to the part where Main Boyo is fighting against Villain to save Girly. Other Guy is there too - this is important. Main Boyo tries his hardest to fight Villain, but is ultimately shot through the fucking chest with a laser from Villain and dies. Like, for bit actually dies. Girly breaks down, has a straight up mental breakdown because she always “knew” that Main Boyo could do anything, and now he’s been killed and is dead in front of her. She screams out Main Boyo’s name, hysterically begging him to save her and protect her because holy shit the love of her life has been brutally murdered in front of her what the fuck. But Main Boyo, from literally beyond the line of death, hears her pleas and snaps back to life as a monster, with the sentence “I MUST PROTECT” repeatedly running through his head and being the only sentence he ever says while in this form, with him fucking destroying Villain and even going so far as to directly hurt Other Guy when Other Guy tries to stop Main Boyo from utterly stomping on Villain. Girly is the only person Main Boyo does not directly hurt, and when Villain is damn sure gonna fuckin’ kick the bucket that is when Main Boyo reverts back human. Everyone is more than a little shocked at what happened, but it’s clear from how relieved Girly is when Main Boyo comes back safe and sound that while this event fundamentally will change their relationship (and it does), it is still one that is extremely strong and they won’t let it get between them (and they don’t).

Now, when looking at the summary, you, with your absolutely miniscule peanut of a brain, might come away thinking, “Hm, Main Boyo might kinda care for Girly given that he literally rose from the dead to protect her and only her and went back to normal once she was safe” and you poor fool would be oh so wrong, because actually, this is all proof that Mian Boyo doesn’t care for Girly and that Villain actually cared more for Girly than Main Boyo ever could.

Without diving too deeply into the absolute lunacy of the Lust Arc = Fail essay, that was its main premise. That Ichigo, after rising from the literal dead directly after Orihime begged and pleaded that he protect and save her and then going on to protect and save specifically her (as Uryu - Other Guy - is also a friend of Ichigo’s and got his fucking arm cut off by Monster!Ichigo), is proof against Ichihime being romantic in any way and was not, in fact, a fuckin’ giant neon flashing sign that read THESE TWO ARE GONNA GET TOGETHER. It was the dumbest shit ever, but Ichiruki stans, much like Edelstans with Teacher Theory, clung to it like white on rice. It didn’t matter how much it was utterly debunked, it didn’t matter how the base premise was stupid as fuck, they point to it as the pinnacle of meta for their respective fandoms in their respective spaces.

And all of this leads me to um... the one I’m kinda the most worried about?

Stan Behavior

Edelstans are their own unique brand of awful in that that the shit they spew is particularly... worrying (”genocide isn’t bad if they aren’t human and also they kinda deserved it” “imperialism isn’t that bad really” the mentally ill should be put down if they’re deemed ~too far gone~” among other... wonderful takes...), and their behavior is also quite shitty, harassing content creators that go against the Approved Opinions (Ghast) or forcing people to take down fanart and in general infecting nearly every Rhea space with all kinds of disparaging comments no one asked for. They actively make the fandom a worse space, and when they flare up it’s almost always noticeable (again, Ghast)

Bleach?

Oh boy.

Guys. If you weren’t there for the Canonization of Ichihime (2016). You dodged a fucking bullet.

The outrage was out-fuckin’-rageous. Their behavior was some of the worst reactions anyone has ever seen come from the canonization of a ship in a shounen. This includes, but is not limited to:

Someone tearing apart all 70+ volumes of Bleach and burning it in their bathroom

In fact, multiple people tearing up Bleach and burning it, while keeping the Ichiruki moments and taping it to their walls

A Rukia cosplayer, in Rukia cosplay, printing out the final color spread of the end-game couples and their friends lounging about - with colored ink and all - and burning it, while filming herself doing so

Ichiruki porn being sent to Tite Kubo

Tite Kubo being accused of grooming a 15 Orihime cosplayer with no proof

Tite Kubo being accused of lying about his various health issues

Ichigo and Rukia being drawn cheating on their spouses with each other - and some of that also being sent to Tite Kubo

Tite Kubo being chased off Twitter by Ichiruki stans... again

Ichihime shippers getting sent death threats

Ichihime shippers getting called delusional for thinking their ship had a chance before the endgame couples were revealed, and then being called delusional for thinking their ship had any real basis and wasn’t pulled “out of nowhere”

Tite Kubo being accused of hating women because of Orihime being shown in an apron in the last chapter and Ichiruki stans jumping to the conclusion she became a housewife, and then Tite Kubo being accused of hating women because when it was revealed that Orihime has a job in a bakery to pay for college later they insisted what Kubo should have done was have Uryu, who’s a doctor at that point, pay for Orihime’s college instead of having Orihime pay for it with her own money 

And mind you, this is only the stuff I’ve personally seen and experienced

I am hoping and praying that Edelstans never get as bad as Ichiruki stans did in 2016, but with how otherwise similar they are my hopes are dwindling more and more. I guess I can take solace in the fact that they aren’t quite... that bad yet? In terms of actions, at least? Their sentiments though are infinitely worse, so like... cool

[twink-frank]

hi i’ve noticed the pencey prep gay conversation going on over on @awsugar and i have spent lots of time dissecting pencey prep lyrics and subjecting nathan @faggot-frank to my deranged ramblings so Here is my pencey prep super ultra mega gay lyrical analysis masterpost. it’s very long so its all under the cut but i will include a TL;DR for those who dont wanna read paragraphs of my deranged ramblings: Pencey prep uses lots of themes of: heartbreak, forbidden love, keeping love a secret, and toxic relationships. which none of that is gay on its own but combined with them almost never using gender indicators in their songs and the “nail in the coffin song” of 8th grade it ends up being a very Fruity Album.

I will be going through heart break in stereo in order and pointing out which lyrics and elements of certain songs jump out to me as Super Mega Gay and then summarizing my conclusions at the end <3

1 ) PS Don't Write

PS don't write is about leaving a toxic relationship, it has notes of moving on and leaving someone behind. "packed up all my shit / stole back all my tapes / left your spare key under the mat / this is not a joke / you'd better learn to take a hint / 'cause i'm not coming back / maybe you'll understand / when you're waking up alone / in a cold and empty bed." it has no gender indicators or pronouns which is the case in a lot of pencey prep songs, and something i'll bring up quite a bit. it also has general "coming of age" themes, something common in lots of pencey prep songs. which Yeah apply to straight people to but read in this context combined with future evidence can be pretty Fuckin Gay. "somewhere along the line / i found a hidden strength / i didn't know i had / standing on my own / cutting all the strings / that you used to control / surprise surprise / i am long gone / if you thought you could hold me down / by holding me up / you were wrong / you don't call the shots anymore." not to say only gay people can find inner strength and the room to love themselves but combined with other context it is a really poignant message about accepting yourself for who you are.

2) Yesterday

Yesterday is very repetitive and has a lot less to analyze, but the constant themes of wanting to "run away" strike me as very Fruity. once again, not saying gay people are the only people who can want to run away or escape from something But Combined With Other Context. and once again a song with no gender indicators, doesnt specify who the speaker is running away with or what they are running away from. just that they want to Leave. "i wanna run with you / i don't care what we do / gotta get out of this place / because it feels like yesterday." also saying "it feels like yesterday" could mean that the town feels backwards or old timey in its beliefs, implying homophobia. how the speaker wants to run away from an old fashioned town.

3) Don Quixote

i'm going to bring up the cultural significance of this title and literary reference first. Don Quixote is a classical novel by Cervantes which is about a crazy dude who thinks he's a knight, and goes on weird adventures with his best friend. It's typically used as a symbol of following your dreams and breaking free from what people expect of you. In the context of the song its used as a symbol of following your dreams with Someone. once again this someone is given no gender indicators. "you say it's not worth it / been burned too many times / if your spine's receding / you can borrow some of mine / don't go and quit right now / cause i'd follow you through hell." "you say so many things / and not a word of it was true / if you're still in that state of mind / i'd still vacation inside of you / cause i think you're worth every minute / and every dime that i spend / i'd spend all my time fighting dragons / just to keep you alive and talking." it's about wanting to spend time with someone, wanting to be with them no matter what. and its also about how this person feels unreachable, like being with them would be a fairytail but the speaker Still Reaches for it. "your imaginations running wild / round your deceptive heart / this is my crusade / and you're the unreachable star / but i'm reaching." talking about this person being unreachable and unattainble. which isnt gay By Itself  but again combined with the other context. FRUIT BEHAVIOR.

4) 10 Rings

another breakup song once again with no gender indicators, are you guys sensing a theme here? anyways this song is about someone cutting you off and then coming back suddenly wanting to talk again after breaking your heart. it has a sense of forbidden love, like this person Told the speaker they cant be together for Whatever Reason ;] and is now trying to come back and repair their mistake when the speaker is already hurt and reeling. "learn to live with decisions you make / i learned things from the break i can't forget / catch you doing drive-bys at 1 AM / it must kill you to know we can't be friends." "end of the summer you cut me off / i cut you out all the pictures i have." which this Isnt Gay By Itself. but bringing that phrase back with other context this is such a uniquely gay experience. being in love with someone and they cut you off Because theyre weirded out by that and then they try to come back, convince you it meant nothing.

5) The Secret Goldfish

my FAVORITE pencey song. this one has a lot. it's another breakup song about heartbreak and loss and im not even gonna dwell on the no gender indicators because yall see the theme now. it has themes of heartbreak and losing someone who is very close to you and having to let go of them and having to accept that this person cant be yours and you cant be with them. "land of the lost / i found myself in nothing / this time, promises broken find me / clutching to you for something / something that you're not / believing in what you say / it makes me lie awake at night / the truth, the truth is not what scares me / it's why you have to lie / all the time." here we see these themes of having to let someone go because they just Aren't The Same as you. "clutching to you for something / something that you're not." maybe like chasing after a straight boy and getting rejected? also the repetition of "heartbreak is forever" when you're young and gay losing that first person you felt some kind of love and attraction to can feel like the end of the world and can be a huge deal because of the lack of representation and guidance young gays get. and the themes of nothing lasting forever, the fact that gay people never get promised eternal love the same way straight people do.

6) 8th Grade

this song is the nail in penceys fucking coffin honestly. the rest of these songs have a lot of plausible deniability, just vague enough to maybe Not Be Gay. but framed in the context of 8th grade they all start to get a lil fruity. Im just gonna go through lyric by lyric for this one. "caught staring again / like a deer in the headlights / when you can't move fast enough / i take a hit for the team / pretty girl is blushing / i can't tell if she's disgusted / laughter starts to swell / someone gets the joke." this kid was staring at some cute boy ass and got caught and everyone is laughing at him for being gay. the "pretty girl" here is what most people think he's staring at but with the rest of the song it's obvious she's not the one he's looking at. "bells ring, i make my escape / helps a little, but doesn't save / beat downs a common thing / with us every day / maybe im just strange / cause i dont change schools / so maybe i like the abuse / or maybe i just like you." literally This is the nail in penceys fucking coffin. "maybe i like the abuse or maybe i just like you." this kid purposefully takes beatings from his bully who is Obviously male if you take into context the next verse. because he Likes Him. "maybe im just strange / cause i dont change schools" literally willingly taking beatings from his bully bc he has a crush. "another confrontation / you've got something to prove / your girl can't tell how tough you are / when you beat me up in the boys room." this just confirms that the subject of the song is a boy, and a tough macho boy with something to prove. maybe also hiding his own internalized homophobia through bullying? "well i made a big mistake / but i can't help who i like / this may not cost my life / but i am branded forever lame." LITERALLY ITS RIGHT IN YOUR FACE. "can't help who i like" "branded forever lame" do i even need to fucking explain this oh my god. he got outed as gay, he Can't Help Who He Likes and is now branded forever as "the gay kid." the rest of the song is general "im gonna get back at my bully" stuff but literally THIS. THIS is the song that brands all penceys other very vague songs as 100% verified super mega ultra gay.

7) 19

this song has a lot less, and is more about internal struggle than anything. but it is the only song with a "she" pronoun in it. but there is one thing i wanna mention. "I scream out loud / but no one hears a sound / i take my life with lack of sleep / i believe the things i feel / the things i see are fooling only me." this song is about not believing what the world shows you, believing what you think is true in your heart and what You feel. not what anyone else tells you. which is a gay experience. believing in yourself and your heart and your feelings, believing theyre right and theyre true and valid. Also this song has a significance in coming right after 8th grade on the album, going from being 13 to 19, from being unsure in your feelings and angry about the people who dont like you to lost and hopeless but somewhat grounded in yourself.

8) Trying To Escape The Inevitable

this song is about an abusive and toxic relationship, knowing you Need to escape it but being so infatuated with the person you literally cant. “i have this reoccurring dream / you make it hard for me to breathe / i gave you everything i could / i gave up everything i owned / and when you smile it’s not for me / you offer little sympathy / your grasp so far exceeds your reach / i wake up, this is not a dream.” “i have this reoccuring dream / where you admit that you’re not happy / i know that you will never leave / you’re here just to torment me.” which like again this isnt an exclusively gay experience but it is very interesting when framed that way. in that gay people are way more likely to throw themselves into abusive and toxic relationships because they dont feel like they can get anybody else. the repetition of “i know i should run” makes it seem like the speaker Knows he should get out but he just Cant because what if he never finds love again? and the little reprise in the middle “i have a new dream / and everything is perfect / the sky is pink, yellow, green, blue, and orange / and all the past has been forgotten / and we fell in love / and we fell in love / and we fell in love / and i fell into your trap.” implying that even if he escapes, even in his dreams he still falls for this person because he feels like he cant have anything else.

9) Lloyd Dobbler

another love song about wanting to have someone but not being able to because of Unspecified Forbidden Reasons. “why are you so far away / even when you’re standing next to me? / your eyes give you away / telling secrets your mouht don’t feel like talking.” falling in love with someone, maybe sensing that they like you too. that they Are Like You and that they have a Secret they dont want to vocalize. do i even need to explain it at this point? and in the chorus “That I’ll be your lloyd dobbler / with a boom box out in the street / and i’ll be there if you need someone / even if he isn’t me.” saying you’ll be there for someone even if that person isn’t you, also the use of Pronouns which is big for pencey prep. which yes the use of “even if he isnt me” could imply a straight girl ooorrr....Fruit Behavior. also this line “There’s a norman rockewll painting / of two kids sitting on a bench / it reminds me of all the stupid things / i’d like for us to share, but i dont care.” normal rockwell is a painter that paints traditionally “american” scenes. like the american ideal, that maybe he wants with this person. but he knows he cant have, but its stupid and domestic and he wants it but he Cant Have It because of FRUIT BEHAVIOR.

10) Florida Plates

another of my favorite pencey songs, and this one brings back those tragic “love but we cant have it” themes, except with a more somber tone. instead of being angry or resentful or spiteful in the face of adversity. its an Acceptance, of what they had and how good it was and how it just Cant Last. “kiss a mouth to open eyes / stall one last moment before goodbye / drive in different cars in different directions / never write all the letters full of good words, better intentions / it’s for the best although we don’t know it / paper words will cheapen the moments we shared / it’s better if i say nothing at all.” it’s about knowing you have to leave someone, even if having them in the moment is great they Can’t Stay and you can’t even talk or write about the moments you had. which do i even need to explain it at this point? forbidden love, not being able to have each other, not even being able to Talk about it. its a secret, and painful one but its beautiful while you have it. Conclusion alright!!! thank you so so much if you read all the way through that i Know it was long i Know it was a lot of repetition but i wanted to make my point. pencey prep has very big gay themes in their music. with forbidden love, letting go, heartbreak, keeping secrets, toxic realtionships. which none of it is gay on its own but in the context of: almost none of the songs having clear gender indicators and always speaking really vaguely about the subject and Eight Grade the “nail in the coffin song” you can see my point thank you and goodnight.

[agathasangel]

you deserve to feel good all the time (sally mckenna x reader)

for anon who requested: “oh okay so me and my overactive imagination have a new autistic reader idea 😅what about reader and her parent(s) goes to Hotel Cortez. her parent(s) aren’t the best, maybe they’re kind of abusive and don’t accept reader because she’s autistic. well, Countess ends up feeding on her parent(s) so reader is left alone. reader finds out and maybe has a meltdown, but Sally is there and surprisingly knows a lot about autism so she’s able to calm reader down and help her through it. reader has to either stay at the hotel or go live somewhere else because her parent(s) were all she had so Sally makes the decision to have reader stay at the hotel and take care of her because obviously she would do a better job than Countess because Sally knows more about how to help someone who’s autistic. and reader ends up bonding with Sally too because of how accepting she was and her parents were never like that. i know this is super specific and you don’t have to do it, but i thought i would share in case you were willing to do it. 😊”

so yeah basically that’s the summary ^^ also this is kind of an AU because the timeline I’m using does not line up with the show at all lol.

Trigger Warnings for meltdowns, death, ableism and mentions of sally’s drug addiction

I myself am autistic (at least according to my therapist) and a lot of these reactions/experiences that the reader has related to her autism are my own or close to my own. Hopefully I do this request justice and do a good job and don’t oversimplify anything.

You ran through the hotel, searching for your parents, but they were nowhere in sight. 

Breathe, you thought to yourself, don’t break down, they’re probably just out getting food or something and didn’t want you bothering them. You just have a couple hours of freedom, you can let yourself enjoy it.

You tried to enjoy the few hours you got to yourself without your parents. Without them mocking the way you talk or walk or move your hands, without them grabbing you with full knowledge of how uncomfortable it makes you. No cracks about how you had to leave college because you “can’t take care of yourself”.

The first words your dad said after you checked into the hotel were “God, it would be so much easier if we had a normal kid, wouldn’t it?”

As if you didn’t have feelings. As if you weren’t a human being who could fucking hear them.

It was 4pm. Your parents didn’t come back.

6pm. Nothing.

10. No sign of them. Neither one answering their phones. Maybe they’re finally abandoning you the way they’ve threatened to for ages.

Midnight. Still nothing.

2am and you started looking again. You couldn’t find anything. 

What happened?

You started to panic and could feel a full-on meltdown coming on.

You tried to be still and silent, but it proved impossible. You began to cry and cry uncontrollably, rocking and hitting your head, unable to stop. You felt like your life was ending. 

Two women showed up beside you. One was older and appeared to be the manager of the hotel, the other was a bit younger, with crimped blond hair and heavy makeup. You barely noticed either of them, however.

The older one touched your back and you screamed. You hated when people touched your back.

“Hey, do you want to take my hand, honey? It’ll be alright, I promise.” said the blonde woman. You obeyed her.

“Wh-Who are you? Where are my parents? Do you know?”

“Your parents... died. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. It was The Countess..” said the older woman.

You couldn’t speak, but you had about a billion questions for the two women. For example, Who the fuck is The Countess?

“You don’t need to speak. Just breathe, okay? In and out, good. Good girl. I’m Sally, by the way. This is Iris. You’re gonna be okay, I promise. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you.”

You waved, not knowing what to do, completely overwhelmed.

“You know what, it’s late. I’m gonna take her back to my room and have her rest. We’ll deal with the rest of this shit tomorrow when she can talk and isn’t so clearly exhausted,” said Sally.

“I-I.....can..... talk. It’s...okay.” you said, each word making you more spaced out and tired.

“No. You’ve been through too much. I’m taking you up to my room and you’re gonna rest. You don’t have to speak or do anything you don’t want to do.”

You followed Sally, so scared and tired and in need of some damn sleep.

“You’re safe with me. I promise. Here’s, um, the bed. Get some sleep. I’ll be right here if you need anything. The Countess doesn’t want to hurt you either, I think she wanted to- it doesn’t matter now.”

“Who is... The C-Countess?”

“It’s a long story and you likely won’t believe me until you meet her. But it’s alright, you’re safe. I’ll protect you. Can I come over there and hold you?”

You nodded. Sally got on her bed next to you and put an arm around you. You winced as she touched your upper back.

“You don’t like when people touch you there, do you?”

You shook your head no, and she put your arms around your waist instead.

“Thank you.”

“Hey, I understand.”

Sally made you feel more comfortable speaking and you said,

“My parents didn’t understand that. They used to touch me there as much as they could, just to upset me. They laughed at me trying to keep my wet hair off my back when I took a shower. They thought it was funny.”

“What does that feel like to you?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t, like, hurt, but it’s terrible, it makes my skin crawl just thinking about it.”

“Aw, honey...”

“It’s dumb, I’m sorry I’m so sensitive.”

“Hey, no, don’t apologize. You know, you remind me of my baby sister. I loved that girl so much when we were growin’ up. I practically raised her. So God only knows how she turned out as good as she did. Our parents were terrible, they were never there. She was the only one who stayed with me. Until she didn’t.”

“What happened to her?”

“It was all my fault, really. I put her in danger. I sold drugs in the 90s, and I started using when we were living together. She was in school, and I had to find her somewhere safer to live. So I did. She’s okay, very successful actually, and she’s still alive. I’m the one who died young. I miss her.”

“You... died? What? I’m sorry, you-”

“Yes. I’m a ghost, The Countess is a vampire, I think Iris might also be a vampire now too? I don’t know. I know you think I’m crazy now but trust me.”

Sally saw your look of disbelief, then held out her hand and said, “Watch.”

As she spoke her fingers began to disappear and reappear.

“What-”

“I’m a ghost. I can alter the way I’m seen by others, if I want to. I’m surprised other ghosts don’t do it more often really. One time I scared some kid by making all my teeth fall out. It was awesome. I didn’t wanna scare you though. I like you.”

“Thanks?”

“Sorry, I-”

“No, it’s- um, how did you die?”

“Iris fuckin’ pushed me out the window.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“What was your sister like?”

“She was the best. Sweet, talented, sensitive. But people didn’t understand her. I did, though. At least best I could. We only had each other. Our parents didn’t care, the kids at school bullied her relentlessly. I had to protect her. She sometimes had meltdowns like the one you had earlier too-”

“I’m sorry-”

“No! It’s not your fault! You were terrified. Anyone would be. It was pretty intense though, I was worried.”

“Was your sister autistic like me?”

“She was. We didn’t know for sure until after she stopped living with me, but we both kinda knew.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, it’s almost four in the morning, you really gotta get some sleep. Come here.”

You did, and you fell asleep in Sally’s arms.

When you woke up, Sally was still there, as well as another woman, blonde and glamorous. They were arguing.

“What do I do then if you don’t want me to turn her? Kill her-”

“Please don’t hurt her, I can- she-”

Sally noticed you were awake, and saw your scared face.

“It’s okay, no one’s gonna hurt you. I’ll protect you.”

The blonde woman who you assumed was The Countess approached you.

“Do you have anywhere to go?”

You shook your head no. Sally spoke up for you, intuiting that you must be stressed.

“She can stay with me. I’ll make sure she’s safe. She won’t bother you or anything. She’s sweet and quiet and-”

“Sally, it’s okay. You want her, you keep her.” said The Countess.

“Alright. Thanks. Can you get out of my room now? You’re freaking her out.”

She left without saying a word.

“I’m sorry about that, (y/n). You’re safe here. You can stay as long as you need to. I’ll be here. This is a dangerous place but I’ll make sure you’re safe, alright?”

“Okay.”

You still felt sad. Not about staying with Sally, you liked her, but about the way The Countess talked about you. The way your parents talked about you. 

“Hey. I just want you to know that I don’t see you as some kind of pet or anything. I know that’s what you’re thinking, that’s how people treated my sister sometimes too. It was awful. No, I just want- I just want you to be okay. I want someone to spend time with. it’s awful lonely being a ghost, but I thought maybe if-”

“I understand, Sally. I like you a lot, and I want to stay here. It’s just sad the way most people see me.”

“It isn’t your fault, you know. I need you to know that.”

“I do. You make it easier to feel okay because you’re so nice to me.”

“I’m glad. You deserve to feel good all the time.”

You started to tear up a bit. No one had ever said that to you before. You were always expected to make yourself uncomfortable, speak when you didn’t want to, shut up when you wanted to talk, wear clothes that pinched, let people touch you when it made your skin crawl, and you were still made fun of because still, somehow, none of it was enough. But with Sally you didn’t have to do any of that, and yet you still felt loved by her in a way that you never have been before.

“Aw, hey, don’t cry. You’ll be okay. I’m gonna make sure of it. I can’t actually leave the hotel, but I can make sure you get everything you need. Are you a picky eater by any chance?”

“A little bit, but not as much as I used to be.”

“Alright. And you’re good on clothes?”

“I think so.”

“Good. I’ve gotta say, I’m excited. It’s been so long since I’ve felt a real connection to anyone here.”

“You really feel a connection with me?”

“Yes, honey, I do. Do you.... feel the same way?” Sally asked you. She said it as if she was worried you may say no.

“I do, Sally. I really do. I know how it feels to be lonely like you are. It’s how I’ve felt my whole life. Maybe... I...”

“Maybe you’ll learn to love it here. Once you’re comfortable I’ll introduce you to the other ghosts. They’re annoying, but we’re still a family or whatever it is they call it. They’ll like you. I promise.”

You spent the rest of the day in Sally’s room with her, barely talking, not really even needing to talk. She was the one who broke the silence by telling you

“I like this. Just being here.”

“Me too.”

“I want to kiss you. Can I?”

“Yes.”

You had never been kissed before, but you let Sally be your first. You felt so... loved by her as she kissed you and held you lightly by your waist.

You stayed in the hotel with Sally, and it quickly felt more like home than anywhere else you’ve ever lived. You became a part of the family, and you and Sally fell deeper in love. Sally protected you, knowing the dangers of the hotel, and made sure you felt okay. Your meltdowns became far less frequent as you were no longer being forced to be someone you weren’t.