#Something about knowing you did wrong and trying to fix things

[pencil-n-pen]

I’M STILL TRYING EVERYTHING

⋆° 𐙚 ₊🧦☕🧸₊°⋆ ೀ₊°⋆

previous | kofi | masterlist

post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

₊ ⊹

I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me.

-mirrorball, taylor swift

₊ ⊹

summary: you’ve never had a date or a relationship that either didn’t work out or end in disaster. now that you have spencer, you’re determined not to let it happen again

cw: referenced bad past relationships, very very vaguely referenced past domestic abuse that honestly could be taken a different way, referenced child abuse (readers parents are STILL not it) again this is a criminal minds fic so references to graphic violence

tags/tropes: hurt/comfort (do i even need to say this? you all know who i am) insecurity, like one line of misogyny and it’s in the past and not brought up again, spencer being soft n worried, HEALTHY COMMUNICATION, spencer is just as gone for reader as she is for him honestly he's just a sap

a/n: back by popular demand !! seriously guys, you have no idea how much the support and comments and reblogs and asks means to me 🥹 the overwhelming amount of love for the first fic made me so happy when people started asking about a sequel i knew i had to !!

read the crossword on the collage for a surprise :)

this one goes out to all my girlies who’ve ever felt like they needed to be less in order to get a boyfriend or keep one. we’ll have our soft love just the way it was meant to be

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Spencer is a really good boyfriend.

Like… a really good boyfriend. You’re not sure if this is how having a real boyfriend is or if Spencer is just like this.

He’s so good to you. He’s just so- so him. You can’t explain it. Can’t put it into words.

He’s very patient with you. You’ve never explicitly stated it, but he’s picked up on your previous relationship experience- or more accurately, your lack thereof. The morning after you’d gone home with him, night consisting of nothing but easy sleep and warmth, he’d asked you out for real. Asked you if you’d go on a date with him, and you’d agreed, a giddy smile fixed firmly on your face.

But you still worry.

All it takes it one conversation with your parents to push things over the edge.

“Yes, dad. He’s very good to me.”

A laugh crackles over the line. “I tell you, your mother and I never thought we’d see the day.”

The words twinge uncomfortably in your chest. “Hey, I’m not that bad. I’ve just been focused.”

“More like uptight.”

“Dad—“

“You know, you still haven’t come out to visit your poor old parents since getting this so-called cushy job. And now you’ve got this boyfriend. You’re too young to settle down. Don’t you think we should meet him?”

Sometimes conversations turn so quickly they leave you stranded— scrambling to pick up pieces of what you thought was going to happen and piece them together to make something new. Something for the new route the conversation has taken.

You couldn’t hold back your sigh if you tried. “We haven’t been dating for that long dad, I don’t want to spring this on him—“

“Sweetie, if we don’t meet him now, why might never meet him. Who knows how long he’s gonna stick around?”

(Sometimes, in moments like these, for just a split second, you wonder how a father could say something like that, to his daughter. You wonder why, wonder what you did wrong. And then, you imagine Hotch saying those same things, and you can’t, and it almost makes you feel a little better.)

Your blood runs cold. “What could you possibly mean by that?”

“Well, you know how things have ended in the past. I’m just saying I’d like to meet him before he’s gone."

You don't dignify his words with a response.

"Come on, honey. I'm just joking with you."

"It's not funny."

"Don't be like that--"

"Goodbye."

You hang up, snapping the phone shut with a sigh.

The older you've gotten, the more conversations with your parents end up like this. You suppose it's the way you 'wasted your potential' or 'never made something of yourself.' They've always held resentment ever since you decided to become an agent. So you know not to take what they say to heart, because their words only come from a place of disappointment and displeasure. It's not a reflection of who you really are or what you've really accomplished.

Or at least, that's what Hotch told you when he'd overheard one of your phone calls. It meant more than you'd let on.

But your Dad's words linger in your head. They're irritating and sharp where they claw around in your head because they're true.

You can count on one hand the amount of romantic endeavors you've had. And from those, they all ended horribly. Your parents lost sympathy towards the end of your attempts, muttered words of needing to try harder to keep them, that you should be satisfied that somebody wanted you at all, that you should try to be less... you.

Try to be less... you, dear. The books and the facts- nobody wants those. Put some more effort into your appearance. Otherwise you'll end up all alone.

You'd tried to take their advice, of course. But the relationships that were fathered your parents direction were not loving. There was nothing soft or gentle or warm about them. You'd never felt more unlovable.

So when the incident with the shooter happened and you were lying on the lecture hall floor, blood coloring the carpet deep scarlet, you'd vowed to never let it happen again. That you were going to use your intellect and wit and passion for what you wanted to do- you'd promised yourself that if you survived, you would try to make your life your own, one step at a time.

This, of course, is easier said than done.

It's easy enough to refuse to let yourself get involved with men who are clearly only interested in your for your badge or your body --though the latter happens so rarely you really don't have to worry about it-- because you don't care about them. They're blips on your radar.

But Spencer? Sweet, sweet Spencer who makes you hot-cocoa and binge watches Doctor Who with you, even the later seasons, which you know he doesn't like as much but you love. Spencer who always has a grounding touch to offer, or a quiet command when you need him. Spencer who puts you first.

But there's a limit to these things, right? As far as you've seen, romantic relationship's are transactional, or conditional. Sometimes both. He can't just... keep doing this forever. It's too kind. Too sweet. It'll come to an end soon. Like, like the honeymoon era in early relationships. That's all it is. Plus, he's older than you, and you have no illusions about your unavoidable impulsiveness and naivety.

You've been told that your standards are too high before. "Struck by the hopeless romantic's arrow," your brother had said once, back when you were still in school, crying over a boy who'd told you that he didn't want to date you because you were too smart for a girl.

"That's not being hopeless romantic. There's no such thing as being too smart for a girl."

"There isn't," He'd amended, "But you're not going to have an easy time finding a guy. You of all people can't really afford to be picky."

He'd been right, in the end. So you're just... having a hard time figuring out how genuine Spencer's actions are. Guy's don't really act all romantic in the context of you. You've been told your whole life to be happy with what you get, and what you've had in the past is decidedly not lining up with how Spencer treats you.

It's a nasty little thing in your ear. Is it real? Does it matter as much to him?

When is it all going to end?

--

Rossi make's an offhand comment during a mission that you talk a lot when you're excited about the subject at hand.

JJ agrees. "It's a little unnerving when the subject is the bruising patterns of strangulation."

That little voice comes back.

Too much too much too much too much too much--

"It's useful," You protest, mouth dry.

JJ snorts, "I'm not sure about that. We need to know that the victim was strangled, not what happens to the body during blunt-force asphyxiation."

You'd grown quiet then, let the chatter and musings of the rest of the team wash over you.

Is that something Spencer finds annoying? You have always found things other's view morbid and disturbing fascinating. But JJ is right. No one wants to hear about that.

You brush the comment off, square your shoulders, get back on with the case.

Be better. Try harder.

You don't seen the furrow of Spencer's brows from where he's been watching you, or the quick look he shares with Hotch.

--

You'd never really thought about how clingy you can be before Emily makes an offhand comment about it while the two of you wait in line at a coffee shop. There's a couple in front of you, the girl all over her partner, kissing and giggling and hugging them close.

"Ugh," Emily groans once the two get their coffee and move on. "I could never understand the appeal of all that. I mean doesn't it feel stifling?"

A little stab of ice in your stomach.

"I don't know. I think it's nice."

"No, thank you. If I were her partner, I'd feel smothered."

You think about that conversation every time you take Spencer's hand or lean into his simple touches. They're invasive little things, the thoughts. It's not hard to pull back on all the touching. You never really ask for them in the first place- always too nervous to come off clingy. But you suppose just taking, taking, taking is just the same.

A quick shake of your head, not leaning in, a quiet "I'm fine." and that little nagging fear of smothering begins to quiet. It doesn't leave, but it does get quieter. For a little while, at least.

--

The hard part is trying to be less without noticeably being less. Spencer's smart- and he's a profiler. If you pull back too much too quickly, he'll notice, and you don't want to talk about this yet. You just need to make sure he'll stay. That things won't—

That you won't find out too late that you don't mean as much to him as he does to you.

That's the kind of thing that can't happen again. But ascertaining his true feelings and desires is difficult, because this is all kind's of new territory for you. You want to believe it's real. You really, really want to believe it's real.

But it's never been real before, so why would it be real now?

--

You've asked around (subtly and carefully, of course) about the type of girl Spencer's dated or drifted towards in the past. You know he said he wanted something soft and sweet, but you can't help but think that you're not really either, nor are you in line with his type. All things considered, you're a mess. Something tired-eyed and hollow is how you feel most days. Some sort of creature perhaps? You're honestly not sure what you are. You've spent your entire life being singled out or otherwise othered- always too smart or too different or too weird or too much or too loud or too quiet or too shy or too, too, too. Always too something. You have never been called soft or sweet. In a demeaning way, sure, but never with the quiet reverence that Spencer said it with that night.

It feels like a balancing act, a bit. Holding all those too much parts so close to your chest with one hand and shoving the ones you think Spencer wants with the other hand.

You could probably drop the one hand. The one holding the bad parts. But you're just not convinced he'll stay. You're not sure that he won't look at them with some form of disgust or pity or something else terrible.

You know the balancing act isn't sustainable— you'll fall eventually, and everything will come crashing down, but until then, you just keep trying. Trying to see if he'll stay, trying to see what to do if he won't. How to ensure he will, if that's something that's possible.

--

The act does not hold up for as long as you hoped it would. It comes crashing down with a glass. Literally.

You and Spencer are in the kitchen on a rare weekend off, cooking and drinking wine and swaying to some little old love song.

It should be perfect, except you're worrying that you look ugly while you're dancing, and you're probably singing off-key, and he maybe wants you to shut up so he can hear the song or dance in peace.

He reaches towards you and you just— your brain shrieks for a moment, all senses going into overdrive and you jerk backward, and your elbow knocks into your wine glass, and it falls, shattering behind you with a deafening crash.

Your entire body tenses, waiting for yelling or sighing or something, because you broke the glass, there's crystalline shards everywhere, the wine red and it looks like blood, maybe it is, maybe you're bleeding because the glass was really close to your foot when it fell but you're not sure because you can't really feel your feet or your fingers or—

"Don't move," Spencer says, voice serious, and tears well in your eyes, because this is when it all ends isn't it? "I don't want you to— honey?"

"Yes?" You croak.

His eyes are swimming with concern as he takes in your hunched shoulders, shallow breaths, and scared expression.

Understanding flickers in his features, and you resist the urge to hold your breath.

"Nothing is going to happen to you because of the glass, okay? Everything is fine. We're fine. I'm not mad. See? I'm not mad. I just don't want you to cut your feet on the glass. I'm going to clean this up and get your slippers, okay?"

"Okay." You breathe, voice hoarse. You wring your hands nervously as he leaves to retrieve the necessary supplies to clean the mess, heart beating so fast and so hard you're shocked you can't see it through your shirt.

He's not mad. He's not mad. You're not in trouble. Your parents aren't here. You're not grounded. You're not in trouble. He's not mad.

You're silent while he cleans, focused on getting your breathing under control while he babbles quietly about the history of glass making and the significance of types of wine glasses. The facts and history wash over you in steady waves, easing the tension in your shoulders bit by bit.

"I didn't think you were going to hit me, Spencer."

He continues cleaning. "It's okay if you did. I would never blame you for that."

"But I don't," You say, suddenly desperate, "I know you wouldn't, I've never been hit, not like that."

He's quiet for a few minutes. "Does this have something to do with how you've been acting recently?"

You freeze. "What do you mean?"

He looks up, leaning back on his knees. Making himself smaller, you realize. He's trying not to scare you again.

"You're dating a profiler. Also, I speak fluent you, and you've been chewing all your hangnails again. You only do that when you're stressed and pretending like you're not."

Your finger's twitch at your sides.

His hands come up slowly, and he rubs the length of your waist and hips. "We don't have to talk about it right now, but I think we should soon. I don't want you hurting all by yourself. You've had enough of that. That's what I'm here for."

He finishes cleaning up the glass, and finishes cooking dinner- he'd assured you he'd turned off all burners when the glass hit the floor, so nothing's burnt.

Once you've both eaten, he steers you towards the couch and wordlessly puts on Doctor Who.

The Pandorica is just about to open when you finally decide that if you don't start talking, you never will.

"My parents think you're going to leave me."

Spencer makes a wounded noise in his throat. "Why do they think that?"

"Because it's happened before. I'm, um. I'm not very good at getting into relationships. Or keeping them."

"But that's not your fault."

You sniff hard, rubbing your face with your sleeve. "It is though, isn't it? At least a little. I know I can be a lot. I know I'm not easy to—"

You cut yourself off, but the words hang in the air anyway; unsaid.

I'm not easy to love.

"Anyway," You say, pushing through the lump in your throat. "I just thought. I don't know. I was worried that you'd get fed up with me."

"No," He whispers, voice raw and full of something a lot heavier than fond. "No, no baby. I like that you're clingy and you ramble when you get excited, because it means that we get to talk about something together."

He shifts on the couch, sitting criss-crossed, ducking his head down to catch your gaze. "You know what else I like?"

You scoot over, mirroring his position. "What?"

"I like that you always know when I need you. Even when I don't think I do, you're there. Because I do need you. This isn't a one-way street."

His words hit you straight in your chest. "Oh."

He smiles, brows a little scrunched, brown eyes a deep pool of fondness and a splash of concern. "Yeah. And I'm thinking you need me a little more than you want to let on."

The seam of your pajama pants suddenly becomes the most interesting thing in the world. Amazing, the wonders of a sewing machine.

"Maybe."

"Mmm," He hums, "So if I need you, don't you think that you're allowed to need me?"

Your fingers pick and twirl a loose thread around. "...Yes?"

A large, firm hand covers your thigh, giving it a quick squeeze. "Yes. Not only are you allowed to need me, I want you to need me. Cause you know how you're always worried about being the best girlfriend? Well, I'm always worried about being the best boyfriend."

That makes you look up. "Really?"

He chuckles again, a little puff of air fanning your face. "Yes, really. I assure you, contrary to your past experiences, this is one of those bare minimum things in a relationship."

"That does not," He continues, immediately catching the brief flicker of doubt and shame on your face, "Mean that it is your fault at all for how you were treated in the past. You wouldn't expect me to suddenly become an expert in veterinary medicine just because I've been to the vet's office a few times, right?"

"When did you go to the vet's—"

"Shh, I'm being a good boyfriend," He holds up a hand, lips quirking up when you can't suppress a tiny giggle, "But seriously. You had no frame of reference, right? And you were being told it was your fault. But it wasn't. You didn't deserve that."

He lets his words hang in the air for a little while and allows you time to process this new information.

"What do I do now?"

"Well," He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, curls tickling your forehead, "You've got a pretty sweet deal here. Just three things. You have to keep letting me need you, let yourself need me, and one last little thing."

"What?"

You're so close your breaths are mingling.

"Let me show you what this is supposed to look like. How a man is supposed to treat a pretty girl. His pretty girl."

"Oh, well," Heat rushes to your cheeks, your stomach doing flip-flops, "That sounds pretty hard. I don't know how I'll hold up."

His hand comes up to hold the side of your face, his thumb sweeping strokes under your eye.

"You say that now, but I know what happens to you when I get romantic. You swoon."

You laugh. "I do not swoon."

"You will."

He leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It isn't a kiss-kiss. He's kissing you just to kiss you; just to let you know that he's here, that you have him.

It's sweet and perfect and exactly what you need.

--

Letting yourself need Spencer is marginally easier now that you know he needs you. Now that you know you're not going all in for someone who isn't.

He also starts needing you a bit... louder.

It's late evening, and most people have gone home except you and a couple other members of the team, all still working on paperwork.

Except Spencer, who's decided to drape himself over your shoulders like a cat, his chin resting on your head.

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Either finished it or it can be done later."

You shift your shoulders, smiling at how his grumbles vibrate against your back.

He moves his head, pressing his cheek to your head instead of his chin, heaving a deep sigh.

"Your hair smells good."

"Like what?"

"You're shampoo. Yours always smell better than mine."

You continue to work through your paperwork, Spencer a continuous and solid weight against your back.

"Is this even comfortable for your back at all?"

"Doesn't matter. Need girlfriend time."

He can't see it, but you're sure he knows how hard you blush.

--

Spencer's cooking the two of you a late breakfast in the kitchen of his apartment, hair still all mussed from sleep. He's quite the sight. You can't stop staring.

You're sitting on the counter, still dressed in your pajamas, legs swinging.

"You wanna know something cool?"

"You know it,"

"Butterflies and moths can drink blood and tears. There's nutrients in them. Purple Emperor butterflies are especially known for this. It's called mud-puddling."

"So you're telling me I should make sure I bandage any open wounds before I go to a butterfly house?"

"I guess. I can't imagine they'd be able to drink enough blood to actually cause any damage."

"Maybe we'll have to go to a butterfly house. For research."

"Should we get dinner afterwards?"

"We'll deserve it, you know, for all the hard research we'll have done."

"Hmm. Yes, I suppose so."

--

Spencer's bed is infinitely more comfortable than your bed. You're pretty sure it's a combination of the fact that it's the only thing in the entire world that smells so much like him and the fact that he spent part of his large FBI paycheck on a fancy mattress. Back support is very important to him.

You're doing a little reading before bed, shamelessly sprawled all over him while he does his own reading. You've got a leg hooked over his hips, the other tangled with his legs, and your arms and head pillowed on his chest. You move a little every time he takes a breath, and more than once you've paused in your reading, mesmerized by the feeling.

He shifts under you, setting his book down on his night stand and making himself more comfortable.

"Should I move?"

"No," he says, voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush to him, face pressed to the crook of your neck. He breathes deep, scruffy stubble scratching against your skin. "Like you close. Good for sleep."

Even with the lamp on, and your book in your hand, you fall asleep soon after him.

--

It's an ordinary evening for the two of you. Discarded dishes sit on the coffee table in front of the teeth, neither of you paying them any attention, wrapped up in each other and eyes glued to the T.V.

You look up at Spencer who's watching Doctor Who with the focus of a man who's never seen it, even though you know for a fact he's seen it before, several times in fact.

"I want to know the things you like," He'd said simply, the one time you'd asked why he takes your nightly Doctor Who watching so seriously.

And tonight's no different. Tonight, he looks... well, he looks like Spencer. His face illuminated by the TV screen, his hair all mussed from you running your hands through it earlier.

And it just kind of all hits you at once. You know.

"I love you."

He looks down at you, his expression soft and surprised. When your words register, his expression is so sickeningly fond and happy you can't help but lean in, burying your face in his chest. He rubs your back consolingly, then presses a little kiss to the crown of your head.

"I love you too."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

taglist: @topsecret101 @slowdownpal @leeknowpegger @sunbl3achedfly @hiireadstuff @paige0103 @private190104 @beautyb1ade @coraline-jones353 @pleasenter-sandman @sttvrdustt @gluchie @thomasintheshadows @dessamira1001 @bbleeeeh @hufflely-puffly @bippityboppityboob1tch @buggys-space @redxfangirl @liauchiha147 @dreaming-potato @meandyoulollz @jobrosimp

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

Weird black neglected!reader and the things the hate about the batboys do that disgust reader

So basically, there was a post ask what the bafamily does that disgust readers, or what disgusts readers—that's something like that. I can't find the ask because I answered it by accident when I wasn't finished, so whoever asked, you know who you are.

What disgusts readers the most about Bruce is his playboy persona; it irks readers to their core. Readers have always held Bruce to high expectations because their mom only spoke well of him. But all that changes when they attend a gala and see Bruce flirting with a girl decades younger than him. It makes their blood boil. Readers know the next girl is just the woman of the month, maybe day. When they were younger, a lot of the ladies would try to be nice to readers just to get on Bruce's good side. And Bruce tries to tell the reader it's just a fling and it means nothing, so no one will think he's the bad guy, but you don't care (he could be loyal, and loyal to your mother). Making the bat really guilty.

Dick, with his fake smiles and womanizing ways, makes it hard for the reader to support someone who hides their feelings or opinions when reporters or paparazzi approach him. He feels compelled to smile even while seething inside. Not only that, the reader dislikes when Dick attempts to fix everyone else's problems just to elevate himself and suppress his feelings; his womanizing tendencies are even more off-putting. The reader once looked up to Dick as a younger sibling would to an older brother, but his constant flirting with anyone within a five-mile radius has turned that admiration into disdain. This makes your poor older brother feel horrible and like a bad remodel.

Jason's nonchalance or indifference to things is perplexing, especially since you know deep down he is passionate about something he cares about. Yet, he'll never express this, at least not with you. He acts as if nothing is wrong when there is indeed something wrong. Deep down, a little Robin is screaming out and asking for help, but he'll never let it out. This type of denial disgusts the reader. Being your true self is the best self you can be; being passionate and headstrong is the best feeling in the world. Yet, he refuses to embrace it; he would rather stay constant than move forward. Jason really wants to make connections; he desperately wants to be a part of something. He wants to confide in the reader, but it might be a little too late for that.

Tim, a hypocrite and a smart-ass, reader is okay with being corrected; it just shows that they needs to learn. However, nitpicking every little thing he does really irks them. Telling the reader that something is wrong is not actual criticism; it’s just a way to put someone down. Boy, he is such a hypocrite! Timothy will literally tell you that monsters are bad, yet he goes and downs six Red Bulls before a patrol. Sure, he needs the energy, but he could eat a protein bar like a regular person. Not to mention, he is always telling you that something is really unhealthy, only for him to eat little to nothing at all. You always snap at him, and he’ll try to tell you he’s looking out for you like a brother should, but you don’t care. He really just wants you to be better than him, and be more responsible but the reader doesn't care for that.

Damian, pretentious and with a God complex, is literally an Arabian prince, so what did you expect from that little twerp? He thinks he’s better when he’s not that special. He’ll show off to readers every day and in every way. You pick up new hobbies, and it's his hobby now, and he’ll be better at it than you, probably discouraging you in the process and making you give up. If you're good, he'll try to be twice as good. Some younger siblings want to be like their big brother or sister or whatever, and it’s cute, but this isn’t cute; this is just stupid, and you hate it because Alfred always makes you hang out with the hellspawn. He’ll show off to your friends or brag about being Robin or how he used to live before the manor, and you want to hit the living daylights out of him. But even if you're taller, the kid was trained to kill at birth, so there’s no way. But all of this is because he really wants your attention and praise. You’re the only person in the house who doesn’t praise him or give him the time of day. He’s your younger brother; he shouldn’t be ignored like this. He’s royalty! Why are you rolling your eyes while he’s telling you about all the places he's been? You should be clapping and smiling—don’t ignore him!

[suprababka]

OMG I'm completely in love with your writing is just so good, I already binge read all of posts, i really want to know your headcannons about cuddling stuff with the opm characters?

Hellooo!👋 Thank you, I'm really happy to hear that you enjoy what I do🥰 And thank you for the request! Of course I'll do it ;D And sorry for taking so long! As you could see, my first post with hcs was published on the 25th of December (2024)💀 But I'm planning to try to post headcanons more regularly😉 (this ask was sent on the 19th of June, chat😅) If something is not right, please let me know, and I'll fix it. Have fun!💕

Cuddling & hugs with them

A/N: fun fact: my name is Nicole (shortly, Nika)🙋‍♀️

Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs and following me! I really appreciate your feedback and support, guys!🥰🫶

You can check my masterlist too see more of my other works.

Prepare for possible OOC!

(Sorry if there are any mistakes!)

And, most importantly, enjoy!!!

It'd be rather awkward to hug him at first

Just imagine: you open your arms to hug him only to see his classic poker face

Double kill if he asks you what are you trying to do💀

Though he doesn't protest when you tell him that you want to give him a hug and proceed to do it

He just stands with his hands in pockets

Saitama feels like he did something wrong when you let go of him, trying to hide your disappointment and embarrassment

It's not that he doesn't know what hugs are

He just doesn't understand the idea of them

At first

You keep giving him hugs there and there, and he gets used to them

For some reason, it brings him a sense of comfort and reasurance that you're here

(so yeah, he starts to actually miss your hugs when you're not around)

Some time later, he responds to your embraces

Well, he just puts his hand on the side of your waist

(or sometimes even playfully swat your butt)

He doesn't want to wrap his arms around you and squeeze you, as he's afraid he'll overdo it and hurt you

Oh, and yes, he won't initiate hugs

Though you can expect his hand to be on your waist when you're walking together

But sadly, that's all

Cuddles is a whole new level for Saitama to complete

He likes his personal space: to sit or lay in his favourite pose, to scratch his rear, pick his nose, etc.

But he can't do that while cuddling with you

That's what he thought

But in reality, it's not so bad

You find a position that you're both comfortable with: he lays behind you on his side, supporting his head with his hand or sometimes even placing it on top of yours

He can watch the TV, feel your smell and warmth, scratch his butt, lay like he wants and do other things

A real bliss🤌✨

As for you, you love being the little spoon as well

To feel Saitama's warmth, his hot breath against your neck, occasional kisses on top of your head and sometimes even his strong arm draped over you as your personal shield from everything

The same goes to when you're cuddling in bed, reading manga together, brushing your teeth, taking the bath...

And yes, you're not going to be the big spoon, sorry

Saitama is just not a touchy partner

But hey, he has other ways to make you feel loved ;)

Another man who is unfamiliar with hugs

But it's different with Genos

He wants to be the best boyfriend for you

And he knows that hugs and cuddles are important aspects in relationships as they provide love and support for your significant other

Hence, the S-class hero spends a lot of time watching other couples, reading different articles on the Internet (even watching videos) and, of course, asking your opinion on what you're comfortable with

You tell him that hugs and cuddles shouldn't be forced, it all comes from heart

As you bump on his chest (where presumably his mechanic heart is), he raises his eyebrow a little

After he processes the information, he claims that he understands you

He doesn't really

After that, he takes some time to observe you and to analyze when and how he should hug you

For example, when you both greet each other, he'll place his hand on your waist and kiss your cheek

When you're walking together, he'll place his palm on the lower of your back

When you're feeling sad, he'll embrace you and hold you in his arms until you start feeling better

When you're both sitting on the couch, he'll wrap his arm around your shoulder

Well, you get the drill

Genos also asks Dr. Kuseno to make his arms and abs a bit softer for you..?

(somehow)

He just wants you to feel comfortable in his arms, like you're hugging a person, not a robot

But you reassure him that you see him as a human

It means to him more than you think

Some time later, you notice that your boyfriend's approach to hugging you changed

As if he started putting more soul into it

Don't get me wrong, his hugs didn't lack of affection

They just were kinda... automatic? Like, a trigger happened and then Genos would embrace you as if following a programmed scenario

But fortunately, Genos figures it out (not without your help)

Moving on, you're in full control when it comes to cuddles

Wanna be a small or big spoon? No complaints from Genos

He doesn't really have preferences

Your comfort is all that matters to him

He'll warm you up or, vice versa, cool you down with his body if needed

If you had a hard day, he'd listen to you while giving you a massage

He'll also give you sudden kisses on your cheek, forehead, hair, neck, etc.

(oh, and he'll admire your beauty while you're not looking)

All in all, Genos is a perfect partner for cuddles and hugs

He just needs some time to figure it all out <3

He's low-key touch starved and scared to do anything first

What if you're uncomfortable hugging him? Or you're not a fan of physical touch? Or..?

He's always happy to be with you and even allows himself to be a bit childish

And his inner child wants to give you a big hug!

On one of your dates, he greets you and subconsiously opens his arms to put you into his embrace

Only to stop in mid-way

What was he thinking? Were you really eager to hug him as well?

You notice Sonic's awkward attempt to hug you and pretend to just stretch

You smile and wrap your arms around him, placing head on his chest

He's surprised, but hugs you back immediately

Sonic's grip tightens around you and his nose is burried in your hair, smelling your scent

Ah, if Sonic could, he'd hold you like this forever

Just like that, you signed your death warrant

Sonic becomes your personal coala and doesn't miss an opportunity to wrap his arm around you

(he doesn't mind if you want be coala as well though)

He'll playfully squeeze you, tickle you, pepper your head with kisses, breathe in your scent, caress your curves, warm you up, and just enjoy your presence, whispering sweet nothings

Please do tell if it gets overbearing for you

Sonic will hate it if you suffer in silence because of him

The same thing goes to cuddles, obviously

He likes being both big and small spoon

Big because he feels like your personal protector (and pillow)

Small because, again, he wants to be pampered like a child

It really makes him feel loved when he's lying on top of you and you run your fingers through his hair

In one sentence, Sonic freaking LOVES hugging you and cuddling with you💕

You'll be the first to initiate hugs

And not just hugs that you give someone when you're greeting them

But a supporting, more meaningful one

You and Garou are just spending time together in the park, talking about everything

Feeling emotional and comfortable, you lean closer to your boyfriend and wrap your arms around him, sighing pleasantly

It makes him stop in the middle of the sentence and just stare at you dumbfounded, not knowing how to react and what to do

Garou has never been hugged before

Usually, if not always, when he gets physical with someone, it happens in a fight

Now he feels... warm and safe

Yeah, it's definitely better than being punched

Garou hesitantly hugs you back, still trying to get used to the feeling

When you start pulling away, he doesn't let go of you, tightening his grip on you

"Wait... Don't move, let's stay like this... at least for a little while, please," he whispers

And of course you don't protest

(you wanted to stop hugging your boyfriend because you were afraid you went too far in the first place, but seeing his reaction, you relax)

After that, you start hugging each other to show appreciation, support and love for each other

Garou gets a habit to hug you from behind and burry his face into the crook of your neck as you both stand in silence

It can mean two things: he's tired or overwhelmed and needs you to calm or reassure him

Or he's just showing his gratitude and love for you, basking in your presence

Of course, the same goes to you

Your boyfriend will always be happy to hold you in his arms when you need him

But don't get me wrong, you hug each other not only in moments of comfort

For example, when you both greet each other, you wrap your hand around Garou's neck as he places his on your lower back

(and lightly slapping your butt with another)

He also sometimes wraps his arm around you to make sure that you're here with him

This goes to especially when you're in crowded places and he's afraid you might get lost or worse

When your boyfriend feels silly, he likes to lift you up, carry you in bridal style, place you on his shoulder, supporting your legs, and even swirl you around him

Well, you catch the drift

(usually, it happens to show you his strength and just have fun)

Oh, and how could I forget to mention that he definitely swings his arm over you when you're both sitting on the couch/bench/etc.

Or he's sitting behind you on top of the bench/step with his arms around you and his chin on top of your head

Garou also loves it when you're sitting on his lap!!!

He may seem as someone who is not a big fan of cuddles, but in reality, they bring him a sense of comfort as well

Garou is always the big spoon tho

When you're cuddling on the sofa, your back pressed against his chest and his arms are encircling you like a protective shield or are gently caressing your curves

Usually, you're discussing different topics or just enjoying each other's presence in silence

When you're in bed, you lay your head on Garou's chest as his arms are around you (again)

If you're lying on one of your sides, of course your boyfriend's arm is draped over you and his face is nuzzled against your hair/neck

Alright, I think I wrote enough about Garou (and no, it's not because he's one of my favs... I hope)🫡

The main point is that hugs and cuddles with Garou are full of love and comfort🥰

Ooooh, this man loves hugs and cuddles

I believe he'll try to hug you on your first date, opening his arms broadly

And pull you into the bear hug

(if you're comfortable with it, that is)

Metal Bat melts when he feels you squeeze him in return

After that, you both start a tradition of Badd scooping you in his arms when you meet each other

Sometimes you like to press your foreheads together and peck each other's lips

He likes to briefly hug you or wrap his arm around when he can

Standing in the queue? He puts his hands on your waist and places his chin in top of your head (if he's taller than you; if not, then nuzzles his face against your neck/back)

Walking down the street? A strong arm around your shoulder can be expected

Feeling joyous? Please hug him, and he'll whirl you

You're anxious because of the crowded place? Badd is here to let you hug his arm or, again, take you under his wing

You always feel loved and secure in his arms

And Metal Bat loves holding you in his arms, patting your head, leaving soft kisses there and there, admiring your beauty, whispering compliments or just saying how much he loves you

He also likes to show off his strength and carries you in his arms/lifts you up

+ gives you piggybackrides!

Badd is really warm, by the way

In addition, his hugs feels like home, like all the worries and problems disappear

And cuddles too!

They're one of his favourite ways of spending time with you

Feeling your head resting on his chest and his hands stroking your back is a true heaven for him

Or vice versa, when he's really worn out or stressed from his hero work, he lays on top of you, burrying his face in your chest and feeling your fingers running through his hair in a soothing way

This helps him to relax

Your presence in general always brings him peace

Just like his does the same to you

That's why you both don't really have a favourite pose for cuddles, as you're both craving for each other's warmth and touch

Well, alright, you and Badd totally love it when Tama joins you two

I don't know how to emphasise enough that hugs and cuddles with Metal Bat are the best

He is your personal Teddy Bear after all :3

(yes, I'm biased towards this man and I'm not sorry)

(I swear, Metal Bat's hugs/cuddles would solve 90% of my prolems)

(chat, is it normal that I had a few breakdowns because he's not real and, consequently, will never be my husband?)

(sorry, let's move on🔜)

I believe that Amai Mask is actually not a huggy person

Yeah, he can semihug his fans when they're taking pictures

And that's all

That was until you came into his life

You'll be first one to hug him

In return, he'll just pat your head

And that's how most of your hugs will go

You don't really mind because you still feel his love and comfort when he strokes your hair or spine

Ah, the way he gently puts his hand on the back of your head and brings it to his chest when you're sad🥹

Beaut loves it when you hug him from behind, nuzzling your face against his muscular back

Or when you wrap your arms around his neck and place your chin on top of his head when he's sitting in his director's chair/work armchair

Yeah, you read that right

This man loves to show you off

And work is no exception

He demonstratively places you on his lap, one hand is around your shoulders and another is caressing your thigh

Meanwhile, your arms are hugging his neck and your cheek is pressed against his temple

No one dares to even say a word towards you

And of course he loves to put his hand on your side as you both walk down the street or the red carpet of some Gala (i.e. in the public)

(kinda possessive if you ask me, but hey, I like moderately possessive men😏)

As I've mentioned before, Amai loves it when you straddle his lap

And when it's just the two of us as well

(especially when you're sitting on him with your arms around his neck as his hands support your lower back)

Beaut likes to pull you close to him when you're showering, taking bath and chilling in the jacuzzi together

He says that he's a serious man and doesn't need cuddles

Also him: doesn't let go of you when you're going to sleep

Really, he acts like a baby and whines if you leave the bed to use the toilet or to do some other stuff instead of snuggling against him

(it stays as a secret between you)

To sum up, Amai tends to wrap his arm around you to show the world that you're his and he's yours

And he will never admit that he craves for your presence, which brings him comfort at night

But you understand everything perfectly well😏

You can forget about hugs with Flashy Flash

Alright, almost forget

He lets you cling to him but doesn't wrap his arms around you or even put his hand on your side

Like I said, he's not fan of hugging and struggles with showing affection for you

Flashy doesn't want to hurt your feelings by pushing you away from him

That's why he prefers to just stand there like this🧍

Until you release him from your hug

S-class hero believes it's the best compromise

What he doesn't realise is that you start feeling like you're annoying your boyfriend

Or he doesn't even want to touch you...

This hurts

Soon Flash notices how corners of your lips curl downwards and your eyes seem to lose their light each time you hug him and pull away, not feeling any mutuality

After a while, you stop snuggling against him

For some reason, Flashy Flash doesn't like this at all

Gladly, you both talk it out

(you're quite surprised when your boyfriend brings up this issue in one of your conversations, as you thought he didn't care about that at all)

The next time you hug Flash, a muscular arm drops over your shoulder and caresses it in a soothing way

What amazes you more is that Flashy Flash even initiates semihugs

And who would know that the S-Class Rank 10 professional hero is clingy when it comes to cuddles?

No, of course he doesn't drop his serious façade and acts like he doesn't need this sort of affection

But the way he holds you tighter in bed and moves closer to you when you're both cuddling tells you otherwise

It'd be even funnier if he preferred being the small spoon

But, oh well, he likes to your protector

What else can I say?

Flashy Flashy may be not a professional hugger and cuddler, but he's not bad either😉

Zombieman actually likes hugging you

He'll be hesitant to pull you into his embrace because he'll be damned if he make you upset by doing something you're uncomfortable with

So he asks if he could hug you on one of your dates

And you happily let him do so

Later, Zombieman just opens his arms, silently inviting to his embrace, instead of asking

He also tends to do that as a way to greet you

Your boyfriend, being the gentleman he is, definitely puts his hand on your lower back or side when you're walking in public to make sure you don't get lost

And you, being the loving girlfriend you are, cling closer to him only to feel his grip gently tighten around you

Fun fact: even though he's a zombie and his body is cold, he can keep you warm in his embrace

And cool you down as well if it's hot for you

His hugs are always tender and delicate

And of course cuddles as well

He may come off as a serious professional hero who is not snuggly at all

But in reality, it's all otherwise

Zombieman adores late-night evenings when both of you lay in bed and talk about anything, spooning each other

(ah, the way he looks at you while you're babbling about your day🥹)

Really, these evenings are everything to him

He has his beloved woman by his side whom he can listen to forever, and all of his worries melt away

What can be better than that?

You don't know it, but when you fall asleep in your lover's arms, he stays awake for a while just to simply appreciate the moment and your sleeping form

He feels like the luckiest man on Earth

And he is ;)

Anyway, Zombieman loves holding you in his arms and feeling your presence

It makes him feel like human☺️

Another hug enjoyer!

Definitely will be nervous to pull you into his arms tho

So you'll have to make the first move

And after that, King clasps you into his embrace every chance he gets

But not in a clingy way

He sees hugs as a way to support you, show his love for you, and just... feel happy, you know?

His mood always brightens when he has you in his arms, your face burried in his neck and his head is resting on top of yours (or his hands pat you)

When you share some good news with your boyfriend, he opens his arms with a broad smile, like some kind of miracle happened

(he looks like a cute, enthusiastic boy <3)

And you get pulled into a bear hug

(if you don't like these types of hugs, he won't do that, of course)

What else you should know is that King gets super shy about wrapping his arms around you in crowded places

He feels awfully awkward to take action for some reason

(both of you know that it's due to his social anxeity)

But he'll be grateful if you take the lead and at least hug his arm

When it gets less crowded, he feels at ease and can hug your shoulders

At home, hugs with him immediately turn into cuddles

Come on, he is hikkan and otaku

Of course he'd love to bask in your love

To lay his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat with closed eyes, as you sigh contentedly and play with his fair

As you could have guessed, you're the big spoon most of time

However, when you're both playing videogames or reading manga, he likes to have you on his lap and place his chin on your shoulder

The same goes to when you're taking bath together

In other cases, I believe King will be the small spoon

What can I say? He's your baby boy😚

[inkyrainstorms]

The Martian Stan AU - The Apology - Excerpt

Ford was working as he always was nowadays, half listening to the radio behind him and trying to stop his heart from jumping in his throat every time that Stan stopped speaking for more than 10 minutes and nothing but static filled the room again. Ford wasn’t sure what exactly his brother was talking about anymore, as he welded a set of support bolts into place, but he nearly dropped the welding gun on his foot when Stan suddenly spoke after a long stretch of silence.

“Ford?”

Ford fumbled for a moment before shoving a stack of loose paper aside and  setting the welding gun down on the table beside him. He put his hands on either side of the radio on the same cluttered table and took a deep breath to calm his pounding heart.

“Yes, Stanley?” He asked softly.

Stan, of course, didn’t hear him, but had paused as if waiting for a response before continuing anyway.

“I know, I know damn well you’re probably never gonna hear this, but I need to say it anyway before… Well. I don’t need to eat as often and shit and I know you’d love to figure out why but… I’m not sure how long I’m gonna last out here either way.”

Ford didn’t say anything, staring down at the wooden grain of the table like he could burn a hole clean through it with his thoughts alone. His palms ached from where he’d dug in his fingernails, and his shoulders mangled to hunch even further.

Stan laughed. It was a bitter, ugly sound.

“Ah, damnit. This isn’t about me. Can’t even do this right, you idiot” His brother took a deep breath. “ But Ford… I think I need to apologize.”

Some old, fossilized hurt in Ford’s heart snarked ‘you think?’, but Ford nearly gagged as he suffocated the thought before it could take root anew. He felt sick.

Oblivious to Ford’s turmoil —and of course he was, because he didn’t know Ford was right here, that Ford wasn’t going to let one of the last things he ever said to Stan be that he thought Stan was worthless— Stan continued.

“I don’t think I ever got to, back when… you know. What I said that night is a bit of a blur to me to be honest, but I know I was spouting nonsense and saying all the wrong shit and… Moses, Ford. I know it’s too late now but I’m sorry. I really am.”

Something in Ford simultaneously healed and broke in his chest at Stan’s words, but he didn’t get the chance to process it because Stan wasn’t quite done yet.

“And I need you to know it wasn’t on purpose. I’d never do that to you. Never. Why would I ever want to hurt you like that, poindexter? I just… I was scared and I didn’t want to be alone in Glass Shard Beach scraping barnacles off the Taffy shop for the rest of my miserable life and I wasn’t. Thinking.” Stanley’s voice had been rising in a steady crescendo, but suddenly got so quiet that Ford had to strain to catch the words in the buzzing static. “I’d… I shouldn’t have gone into the gym. I shouldn’t have even gone near your friggin project. I didn’t go there to break it, I would never—“ his voice broke. “I thought you knew that. I’m your brother, you dingbat, why would I ever want to hurt you?When did I ever not support you, man?”

“Then why did you do it?” Ford whispered back, just as quiet. That old anger he’d tried to push down rose up again, simmering. Stan knew he’d poured months of his life into the perpetual motion machine, that he’s shed more than a few tears and more than a little blood and sweat over it. And then he’d thrown it all away?

“I’d only hit the table, ya know. Didn’t think the grate’d pop off or anything like that. I tried to fix it. I know I should’ve told you, I know and I’m sorry, just…” I was scared, goes unspoken. Ford’s legs were shaking, and he tried to steadily himself by leaning further on the table. “I know I should’ve told you. I know. I messed up fuckin’ good, Sixer.” Ford flinched.

“I’m. I know you’re never gonna get the apology you deserve cause I was too much of a coward to actually call you and say something.” Stan’s voice was shaking. And I’m sorry for that too. And I’m sorry for not listening to you about your stupid book, and I’m sorry— ugh. We’ll be here all day trying to name my fuckups. That’s the last sorry you’ll ever hear from me you nerdy, uh, nerd.”

Stan sighed loud enough for the radio to crackle and screech. “Good going, Stan,” he muttered, his voice getting quieter as he evidently walked away, done.

And all that was left was static.

Ford pushed himself away from the table and sank into the rolling chair nearby, putting his face in his hands and trying to breathe as the chair was pushed back several feet from his momentum.

“He’s lying,” Ford tried to say, but it tasted like ash in his mouth. “He’s trying to make it so… so.” He faltered. “He’s obviously trying to deceive me.”

Trust no one.

But he had trusted Stan. And Stan got hurled into a Dimension of Nightmares for it.

Stan has no reason to lie, Fords mind whispered, because it was always against him no matter what stance he took. He doesn’t think you’re coming to save him. Why wouldn’t he try to explain the worst mistake of his life in a fit of guilt and complete loss of hope?

“Shut up,” Ford said intelligently, and he didn’t dare pry his face away from his hands, heels of his palms digging into his eye sockets and pushing up his glasses to his hairline

Stan had no reason to lie.

Stan came to help him at the drop of a hat after ten years of being too afraid to even call him. 

Stan… Stan didn’t mean to break his project. It was a stupid accident, done by a stupid teenager too afraid to admit his own failings. Stan didn’t betray Ford. Not like he thought his twin had, for all these years.

Ford was wrong. About everything. He was wrong about Stan and Bill and Fiddleford and, Moses, had he ever done anything right in his entire, miserable life? Ford didn’t know. 

The empty bunk bed beneath his own  for those last few fateful months before Backupsmore, the tears and screaming at a boat that never even left the shore, the years of resentment and refusing to believe he missed his own twin, what was it all for? Because Ford suddenly felt the sharp sting of grief all over again, throbbing with a ferocity he’d refused to acknowledge for the past few weeks. Years. 

It was like he was 17 years old again, mourning for all the wrong reasons and all the right ones too. For his brother. For his chance to become someone worthy of recognition, of love. For pushing away the ones who’d already loved him.

For the first time since the day Stan fell into the portal all those weeks ago, Ford pulled his knees up to his chest on the seat and, in the safety of his own arms, he wept.

The static crackled on, steady and unchanging. Unforgiving.

———————

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face @littlelilliana15 (if anyone else wants to be tagged pls let me know! I’m going to probably be posting more for this au sometime this week)

I have ideas for a mini comic and a whole animatic using Space Oddity so I’ll just have to see how far I get, really

[jamiedc-they-them]

Mushy: Part I (Platonic)

Summary: Reflecting on how everything went wrong, the middle adopted child of two sisters reflects on their past as they try to make a better future.

Note: This one isn't as long as my other pieces as it's more of a prologue type thing setting up Y/N and their dynamics with Jinx and Vi before the other parts (if people want them, of course!) will go more in-depth to episodes and build on them like my writing normally does.

Hope you enjoy :)

Seeing that blue flare light up the night...it couldn't be. It just...it just couldn't be.

Vi put a hand on your shoulder, shaking it. She could see it too. She could. She shook your shoulder again.

Caitlin looked at you both, "who is that?" she asked, voice soft.

"Powder," you both said, before taking off. Caitlin hurrying after you.

You had found your way into Vi and Powder's life when you were very young. Barely any memories. Just fire, screaming and death.

Trauma, was what Vander told you it was. He said that it was only natural, for anyone in a scenario like that to be traumatised. He seemed to know all too well about trauma, but you never got the chance to ask him about it.

"Something like that doesn't leave you," Vander told you, one evening, "let yourself feel what you need to about it, but try, try not to let it cloud any judgement. There's always another battle, Y/N, another fight - be it big or small. You have to keep your eyes on the bigger picture, else you get lost forever in the details."

You never knew what he meant by that. Still, didn't matter, at least not then.

Then, you had a family. Sure, you did not sound like the rest of them at all, though whoever said you sounded like you were from Piltover, they would be put down by Vi.

You never even thought about your voice, just took it as was and moved on.

Now, making your way towards that flare, you were realising just how much weight Vander's words had.

Vi taught you a lot, you picked up on it all quick. You were the middle child out of her and Powder. You weren't as good as a fighter as Vi, but you weren't the worst either.

"Distracted," is what Vi would say whenever you lost.

You were pretty sure she let you win sometimes.

Powder's hair was blue, as were the crystals she found. You tried to call it a coincidence.

You hated that you put those two together, you hated it so much. You hated how it made you, subconsciously view your sister when it all went so wrong.

You'd fix that, you vowed as you climbed up with Vi's help to reach the flare.

An explosion you barely escaped brought some heat (ha) for you all, but you made it out, scrape and all to get home.

"You alright, bluey?" you asked Powder, sitting on her bed.

She nodded, "I - I'm sorry about today," she said.

"Shit happens," you said, "try to get some rest, ok?"

She nodded, but didn't make any moves to try to go to sleep. She looked to the door instead, "what about Mylo and Claggor?"

You sighed, "they'll come around. We're family," you assured, "sure Vi and I can speed up the process, though. Anyway, we all make mistakes. Small steps, that's what counts."

Powder giggled, "thanks, mushy."

You never understood the nickname. Maybe it was the soft voice you had, one that wasn't the most intimidating.

"Anytime. Now," you said, getting up and getting a blanket for your sister, "get some rest, ok?"

"Ok. Love you."

"Love you too."

Love was a power thing. Love was a dangerous thing. Love could be all you needed to get through the day. Love could be the thing that made you not wake up the next.

Love was what made misguided decisions to occur.

It led to Vi knocking you out to try and give herself up.

Love was what led Vander to take the fall instead.

Love led to Mylo and Claggor waking you up and reuniting you with Vi to try go and save Vander.

It led to a fight, one you and Vi very nearly lost. You managed to push through, together. Just about making it.

Then, the explosion occured.

You fell and Vi was unable to reach you.

As far as she knew, you were lost to the flames. She screamed. She screamed as loudly as she could.

You coughed...you coughed again.

You weren't you right now, you were the child who was on a bridge on fire, surrounded by ash, bodies and the sound of screams, of crackling.

The smell, god the smell. Strong. Overriding all else.

The flesh burning. The smoke entering your lungs.

Too many details, not enough time.

You slipped, but Vi caught you.

"Don't look down!" she told you, helping you up.

"I'm not letting you down again," she vowed.

You never quite knew how you got out of the building. You looked at it, fire being reflected in your eyes.

You let a sob out, the lone survivor that you believed you were.

You then ran, as far as your legs could carry you. You didn't care about your lungs burning more than they already were or the scrapes on your arms and legs when you tripped from exhaustion, you just had to get away.

The constant flashes in your minds eye.

The family you gained. The family you lost.

You reached it. The flare was still going. There was still time to fix this.

You looked at Vi, the pair of you nodding at each other. You weren't running away this time.

[flightnight]

I need help understanding Sunday.

I feel that there's a rift between how the game expects me to see him and how I actually see him. Would anybody be so kind as to help me clarify these two points?

1. What did he ever say or do that would indicate that he realizes that he ever did something wrong? Bonus points for addressing his core harmful misconception that led him to become a villain to begin with.

2. Which of his actions do you consider admirable?

Explanation of why exactly I have problems with these points below the cut:

1. His whole thing during the Penacony arc was that, in his opinion, people shouldn't be trusted to live their miserable lives by themself; they'll only hurt themself. Everybody (including Robin) is too weak, and he's the only one who's strong. So they should be forever imprisoned in the perfect boring dream their benevolent lord and savior Sunday created for them. From what I understand, he was going to start with Penacony and then imprison the whole universe under his absolute control. Okay, great, typical "morally grey" villain motivation, very well explained, no problem here.

Most of the characters, as well as, hopefully, the player, understand that it's the wrong thing to do. Nice motive, still evil.

My question is: what are the things he said or did since we defeated him that indicate that he's changed? Does he ever admit or imply that he did anything wrong? That human lives are precious no matter how miserable and flawed they are in his opinion? and how valuable freedom is? How strong can people be?

Because so far I only see the opposite: instead of indicating that he was wrong, he doubled down. He literally told us that he's going to do some research and try again.

I don't know, maybe I blinked and missed him getting in a situation where he has to confront his misconceptions.

I had very low expectations. I expected "I might have done something bad, but I might be persuaded to forgive myself," or "it wasn't me, it was my evil past self," or "it was somebody else's fault," or "I might have tried to take over the world, but look, I helped a grandma cross the road, so that's okay now.". All of these would be bad. And we kind of get a tiny bit of all of these, but only as vague vibes.

I saw people saying that he helped Tingyun for free, and it shows that he's changed. Are people implying that he was so morally repugnant that he wouldn't have helped somebody for free before? Even I don't think so. Is basic human decency an achievement for him now?

His problem wasn't that he didn't care about fixing other people's lives. It was exactly the opposite!

That's exactly the kind of thing he shouldn't be doing as a show of how much he changed.

A moment of growth for him would be if he realized that another person is strong enough to solve their problems by themselves, without his involvement.

Let's look at other antagonists turned playable characters.

Bronya's main motivation is to save her people. Her misconception—she has faith in her mother. She faces the fact that her mother isn't the person she came to love and respect.

Topaz's main motivation is to help Jarilo-VI survive. Her misconception—she thinks that being owned by the IPC is the only way for them to survive. She faces the fact that the people of Jarilo-VI are strong enough to survive by themselves.

Sunday's main motivation is to save people from suffering. His misconception—it's only possible if he imprisons them in a dream controlled by him. Does he ever face the realization that he was wrong? I don't care how many Tingyuns he helped, his problem wasn't that he was unwilling to help people. IT WAS KIND OF THE OPPOSITE!!!

And later on, when he kind of helps us, it does nothing to address his core misconception, the thing his whole personality is built around.

He's not a generic bad guy who can redeem himself by becoming a generic good guy! You can't write a complex character and then completely neuter him in his supposed "redemption arc!"

2. What did he do that's worth admiring?

And I think DH's "about Sunday" line indicates how we are supposed to see his return:

"Whether he can achieve his dream or not, being able to let go of everything and start again is already admirable enough."

(btw I'd like to remind you that his dream was to imprison the whole universe. And he wasn't "able" to bravely let go of everything. He was forced to. By being defeated by us. Hello!!!)

What did Sunday even do? Nearly turned Penacony back into a prison again. Got hit by a train. Lost a boss fight (as a boss). Got saved by Robin. Got what he deserved and what he tried to do to others—imprisonment. Threw a hissy fit, got immediately saved by Robin again, and was freed by Jade. Got accidentally split in two. Told Robin to touch the grass. Graciously allowed us to give him a lift.

DH, which of those do you find admirable???? How bravely did he overcome being a villain?

What would we expect a lesser, not so "admirable" person to do in his place? And he hardly even had any agency in most of these events.

Let's look at other characters again. Firefly apologized for lying to us. Topaz and Bronya admitted that they were wrong and backed off. They made a conscious decision to stop what they were doing after realizing they were wrong. They weren't forced to stop by just being defeated in a boss fight and imprisoned. That's admirable. What did Sunday do that's admirable?

And what about Welt's "about Sunday":

"Having an ideal and pursuing it is not rare, but being able to start anew after that ideal is shattered—this kind of willpower will carry him far."

Gramps, the last time we had to hit him with a train several times to stop his willpower from "carrying him far", wdym?

And I'm sure the game's writers are planning to give him more to do later, maybe dragging him through some long overdue character development (I mean, why else are we carrying this piece of cardboard they turned him into with us to Amphoreus?) Because 15 hours of monologue during Pencaony, plus 5 more hours during his triumphant return, clearly wasn't enough. All these new upcoming characters will move over to give Sunday 10 more hours of pretentious monologue.

But on the brighter side, things like this make me appreciate the previous instances of bad writing. At least Firefly apologized. At least Topaz admitted that she was wrong.

And there is one thing that tells me that I'm not the only one having problems with this. It's the fact that in most dialogues there are options to be mean and distrustful of him.

[skyward-floored]

...... my curiousity for "thing" is insatiable

- hero-of-the-wolf

I’ll be honest. that uh. That is merely five-ish sentences of an idea I had and have not touched since and may not ever get around to writing KSDAGGGJDDJDHH

But since you asked I’ll tell you about it :)

it’s kinda like that one whumptober I did the other year, where it was chain meets Twilight but terrible >:)

So I haven’t gotten to the end of phantom hourglass yet so I don’t know all the details to really be able to write this, but basically... something goes wrong with the Bellum fight. Something happens and Link gets possessed (I think Bellumbeck would still happen, but this would happen after maybe? yeah), and even though Linebeck and everyone really don’t want to leave Link, they’re pretty much forced to retreat because oooooh they are NOT equipped to deal with a squid-possessed hero guy.

Meanwhile, lu happens, and there’s eight heroes together, and there’s kind of this feeling that something is missing but nobody is quite sure what. Things are going along fairly normal, until they all go through a portal at some point and find themselves on a pretty normal looking island. Legend is immediately like “oh heck NO” because he immediately clocks that this world is NOT right and though it’s not familiar, the way it feels is familiar. His dream sensor is going ping ping ping and he hates it.

Anyway it doesn’t take them long to meet Linebeck who’s trying to figure out a plan with whoever is around and he sees them and is immediately like “oh heroes sweet MY KID I MEAN ASSISTANT NEEDS HELP GO KILL THE SQUID ALSO HE IS THE SQUID AND WE KIND OF DON’T KNOW HOW TO FIX THAT”

After getting him and whoever else is around (would Oshus be okay?? I have no clue) to properly explain with less shaking, they realize that oh crap, the kid who got possessed is the hero this is BAD.

They rush over to wherever Bellum is hanging out and there’s your typical epic battle, but it’s very stressful because here’s this kid who can’t be older than like 13 and he’s been possessed for at least a week or two at this point and he looks like a mess but they have to fight him or this whole world is doomed.

Eight heroes are plenty to defeat Bellum, so it’s not too bad, but the aftermath is... a lot. For multiple people. But especially Wind. WHICH leads me to the five or so sentences I wrote, which are as follows:

“Linebeck..?” the kid whispered, and the sailor grabbed him into his arms, both of them trembling.

“Yeah, yeah it’s me kid,” he rasped, and let out a weak laugh that Legend thought sounded rather hysterical. “I got you.”

“B... Bellum...” he slurred, and Linebeck swallowed.

“He’s gone. For good this time.”

The kid let out an exhausted sigh, and closed his eyes, the faintest of smiles forming on his face.

“Good.”

...But yeah. I need to finish phantom hourglass before I think about truly writing it.

[indomitable-rp-resources]

The Wild Robot Sentence Starters

Change pronouns and terms as needed!

“Hello! Bonjour! Guten tag! Hujambo! ¡Hola!”

“Do you need assistance?”

“DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE??”

“Are you here to kill us?”

“Ooooh, pretty. Get it!!”

“This is what I get for taking a walk.”

“Where’s your mommy, little guy?”

“You gotta die faster!”

“Uh, why aren’t we killed yet?”

"That ___ stalks me, emits noise, and makes simple tasks more complicated or impossible."

“As far as he’s concerned, you’re his mother now.”

“I do not have the programming to be a mother.”

“But it’s not all bad. Just… mostly bad.”

“Patience is the key.”

“It’s okay, Mom, I’m alive!”

“It’s okay, I won’t eat him.” / “Are you crazy?! I might eat him!”

“Do you believe everything you hear?”

“I believe I am under attack.”

“Ugh… Do I have to do EVERYTHING?”

“Kindness is NOT a survival skill."

"Understood. Do not mention dead family."

"Swimming's easy; I can teach him the way my mom taught me. SWIM!"

"Just... I dunno... Don't get attached to the little guy."

"Ugh. So we're doing this."

"New project!"

"Is it normal to burp this much?"

"I know it was you. And I know where you live."

"Kids need to feel safe and loved and all that junk."

"NOT YET!"

"Yeah, well, when you grow up without something, you... spend a lot of time thinking about it."

"Death's proximity makes life burn all the brighter."

"I prefer he be independent closer to home."

"He won't die. Well... probably won't die. It's unlikely he would die... just right now."

"(Name), focus on me!"

"So was it just guilt? Is that why you did this?"

"You don't understand anything! You don't feel anything!"

"You're not my mom."

"I don't know!! I'm just making stuff up!"

"I don't know what I'm doing, and I have to! I have to because he's relying on me!"

"I have a kid."

"You are in the wrong place, and you have become the wrong thing."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not sure I'd want to see the sort of place you actually 'fit in'."

"Your life is not negotiable."

"I'm fine. Go again."

"Remember, there's nothing he can do that you can't."

"(Name) was never supposed to get this far. You know that."

"GET YOUR BUTT BACK UP IN THE AIR WHERE IT BELONGS!"

"Gentle motivation is a mom skill. You'll learn it."

"Funny how life works."

"Thank you for looking after my... For looking after (name)."

"You are a credit to... whatever species it is you belong to."

"I'd say you shine like new."

"How do you know if you love something? Some... one?"

"Sometimes hearts have their own conversations."

"Sometimes, to survive, we must become more than we were programmed to be."

"I need you to promise me one thing: a truce."

"He'll be here. I know he will."

"You seem... happy."

"Despite my cheery demeanor, I am unfeeling, inflexible, and morally neutral."

"Lying your butt off back there!"

"I'm already home."

"It's all you. Make it look good."

"We need everything inside that head of yours."

"Can I keep just... one?"

"What happened was not your fault."

"What you did to try and fix it is everything."

"I love you... Mom."

"Male bovine excrement!"

"Now say I'm cool. And don't lie."

"(Name) has nothing to do with this."

"We will just keep coming until we have you!"

"Don't be afraid."

"Whoa-whoa-whoa! D-Don't you need that?!"

"I have everything I need."

"Do not scare me like that again."

"If they come back, I'm gonna bite them."

"They will just keep coming until they have me."

"We can fight them off as many times as we need to."

"There are things there that I must put right."

"What if I need to tell you something, and you're not here?"

"When it is time, I promise I will find my way home."

[stars0fthesea]

Hello! I’m so extremely bored so I’m gonna post a song analysis kind of thing? But it’s about Jason and Amelia. Uhmmm idk how to explain it soooo JUST READ!!!

Song: A Humans Touch (on Spotify by TWRP, McKenna Rae)

(TW: Mentions of child abuse and neglect. I don’t go into super details but it is mentioned.)

(ALSO ALSO These are my own versions of Jason and Amelia. They were childhood friends that grew up together!!! I’ll make another post about that or whatever.)

Jason and Amelia ^

The first bit could be applied to both of them.

“Am I toy to you, my love? Just a thing to play and then throw away.”

For Jason it’s the feeling of betrayal. he did everything for Amelia, kept her safe from the world. He was loyal to her and yet she betrayed him when he was at rock bottom. He believes that Amelia took all the “love” he gave to her without giving anything back. Essentially she “threw him away” after she realized she no longer needed him. Even though that isn’t what happened.

Jason just can’t ever blame himself for his own actions and the consequences that follow. He didn’t keep Amelia safe, nor was he ever loyal. He wanted control over her, and when he no longer had that control he became angry. That anger mixed with the exhaustion and burnout he faced ended up killing him.

For Amelia, she felt terrified— she was terrified. Always feeling as though Jason never truly loved her, only used her, manipulated her into having no one around her. Scaring her from ever making true friends and only having Jason, until the end. Which goes with the “Am I just a toy to you, my love?” Jason played with her, toyed with her emotions. Turned her once confident personality into a more confined one.

“I never asked for this”

Jason never asked his parents to neglect, abuse, and kick him out of the house all because he wanted to become a toymaker. Amelia never asked for Jason to treat her the way he did just because she was one of the only one to treat Jason nicely.

“I always did my best.”

Jason always listened to his father. Fixing any flaws his father would point out. He did everything to try and get his attention, try and make him proud— until he realized that nothing. Nothing. He did would ever make his parents happy. Everything he did was a mistake in their eyes. And so he tuned them out. Jason didn’t need them anyways. For gods sake he would show them just how amazing he really is.

…

“Without your love, I am a broken mess.” Self explanatory for Jason…after Amelia killed him he ended up being broken. His heart became more rotten after losing Amelia’s love for him. He turned into a mess, looking for a woman that can replace what Amelia left. A void in his heart, waiting to be filled.

This entire part is just Jason. ^

“I never did you wrong”

These words fit Amelia more. During their entire relationship Amelia didn’t do anything to Jason. She was supportive of his dreams, offered to help him succeed, she was an amazing friend.

Yet Jason still treated Amelia as if she was nothing but a toy. She did everything for him, but Jason treated her like a child. Hell she could have done so much more than the pathetic redhead and he’d still see her as something he has control over. Amelia knew that they would never be equals in his eyes, and she didn’t dare say anything about it. (If you couldn’t tell he’s a misogynist.)

For Jason these words just circle back to his entire belief being: His actions are justified because everything he did was to protect Amelia from the cruel world she didn’t understand. He didn’t do anything wrong to Amelia, she just didn’t understand anything. She didn’t understand the love he was giving to her.

“Until the new me came along.”

Amelia again! This kind of goes with the first part but I wanted to write it separately. We know Amelia didn’t do anything to Jason, yeah.

She eventually did free herself from his control, realizing what he was doing to her. It took a lot of courage and strength but she did it. She escaped Jason. And eventually she killed the man that manipulated her. Thus why the lyrics: “I never did you wrong, until the new me came along.” Fits her so well. This new version of herself took over control and got rid of the evil redhead.

“it was just you and me”

Jason from the very start of his life was neglected. His own parents didn’t want him. He was alone. At school nobody would speak with him. The teachers felt bad, but they didn’t do much with the children teasing and bullying Jason. He had absolutely no one.

But then.

Amelia showed up in his life. Amelia who was smiling brightly since the day she met Jason. She was talkative and sure a bit annoying, but Jason finally had someone. And it wasn’t bad. Despite all the other children whispering rumors about Jason, Amelia stuck by his side.

It was just Jason and Amelia.

Jason needs Amelia. Or at least that’s what he thinks.

He takes the lives of every woman that reminds him of Amelia. Whether it be their personality, their face, their looks, whatever. He desperately tries to feel how it once felt to have Amelia by his side. Call it obsession if you will…but really he just misses having such power and control over someone.

[acorpseinthewood]

Angel Killer.

You killed an angel, and its blood is burning your fingers. Its entrails tail your skittered steps as you escape its piercing, dead gaze, and there’s nothing you can do to be rid of the stink of the holy that coats you and clogs your nose with sweet raspberries and sweeter, golden, blood. 

You don’t know how you did it- your hands are not special, they’re flesh and they’re human. And there’s a dead angel that you killed and now, now you don’t know what to do. So you leave the body, it’s rotting carcass already blooming with light and new life, spilling acid onto the hard pavement and eating away the concrete underneath. 

And you run. 

What were you even thinking? The holy cannot be killed- you’re no priest but immortal blood's been spilled, they’re gonna find you, topped up with your guts rearranged and your life in tatters, god ain’t gonna matter. 

But you line your steps with gold ichor that won’t leave, its taint there forever. You leave the scene. Walk blocks in the dead of nothing, not even the sky opened up for a guide. You hop on a train, huddled on a cold seat, trailed with cold, dead eyes. 

You try to wipe your feet before entering home, but the gold will stay with you forever. It will never leave you alone. 

You cry before you sleep. The gold has sunk underneath your fingernails like an insect found its home and each time you touch something of anything it burns sharp and bright. Your tears burn too, but it’s not with holy despair but with the regrets and confusion of every fractalizing thought your mind comes up with and every song the wind outside shrieks against your walls. 

Your pillow becomes a comfort as you weep, and soon enough the stars grant you sleep as you sink heavily under the ground into the immovable realm of unconsciousness. 

Your dreams aren’t plagued- you wake up confused and tired. You sit up in bed, rub at your grief-stained cheeks and get on with the morning, your routine built into you with every trailing sweep your life leaves behind. 

Your feet touch the ground and you throw up. It’s nothing but the stinging acid of your insides, but it echoes the memory of the golden gore and you gag once more. You run to your bathroom, the tiled floor attacking the soles of your feet in such hate you know it knows what you did, and your hands latch on to the side of your sink and you throw up some more. 

On the train, everyone stares. Their eyes never touch you but it happens. They’re staring and they’re judging and they’re going to suffocate you under their invisible gazes, cruel and contained. They know what you did. They’ll come for you soon. 

Your heart twists and pulls, a motor pinching your veins into submission, run fast, run faster, you can’t die, you can't go. You stand far away from the corner, the puddle of gold underneath the seat identical to the one you tracked onto the train, its sight making you sick in the stomach. 

But work can’t wait. 

The train stops, starts, jutters and sieves its way through the city, a worm on an invisible string, dead inside yet full of the life it eats and then regurgitates again and again and again. People keep entering its maw like the too-trusting bird that cleans the alligator's teeth, and they leave when and only when the beast decides it’s done and clean. 

You stumble at your stop- the harsh, metal teeth nearly close around your neck, but you manage to escape both the creature and the eyes inside. Around you the outside world screams its features, people and buildings and grey and torture.  

You walk into your work, eyes bruised and bleeding tired, the walkways of the city a maze conquered only by desperation and mastery behind you.  

Work drags on as an impending doom on the horizon, each moment slower than the next, each second sharp and painful. They all stare at you, at the golden path you dragged from the front door to your desk. They cut you open and examine your insides, comparing the dripping red to the stark gold, pressuring your heart and your lungs into hating you too, they grip you with their disgust. The whole day goes without anyone talking to you. Years on end, it screws with your mind until you're shattering, glass smashed against the surge. 

Five o'clock never comes around until it does. And then your dead feet drag your dead body out the door and into the beyond.  

The train smiles when you return, its maw dripping gold after you enter. The corner seat laughs as you pass it, desperate to escape its sight into the next carriage.  

You escape at your stop, dropping down onto the streets, going home, going home, a pigeon in the dark bleeding despair and desperate for comfort. 

Your door clicks open and you stare down at the gold-stained welcome mat. Your fingers lose grip of your bag and it drops into the depths of a cavern, never to be found, never seen, because you can't look away from the mat and the gold and behind you, you know there's a winding, damning trail of it too, all linking back to you.  

You numbly go inside, avoiding the mat and shucking off your shoes. You grab a wipe and sit down at the table, soap in hand. You scrub and scrub and scrub at the soles of your feet, the gold stains spreading to the wipe and then the scourer and then anything else you can get your hands on.  

The gold follows you no matter what you do. 

Drops of red fleck your hands and join the puddle of gold on the ground, and yet your hands and your feet and your soul still shine that sickening colour you'll never let go. 

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

My roommate and I had a conversation last night and I keep rotating it in my brain and I Don’t Like It

[our-lady-of-mcr]

everytime i think im done ranting i remember something else LMFAO this one is extra long i hit tag limit god mf damn

[somefisher]

Im gonna throw up im sick of feeling awful all the time

[713-4th-ward-g]

.

[444lotus]

how i manifested (+revised) my dream body ౨ৎ

This is my first post on my new account, though I am NOT new to the law and NOT new to loablr either. This post is specifically about how I manifested my dream body instantly with no technique besides knowing :)

PART ONE - the old story

In the old story, I was so fixated on my body and my weight all of the time, I was tracking my calories and weighing myself and my food obsessively and constantly gaining and losing weight. Back then, my beliefs were that 1) Excess food causes weight gain, 2) If I don't track my food and weigh myself, I will become too fat/skinny, and 3) There is something wrong with my body, and I need to diet/exercise to fix it.

Noticing these beliefs were key to changing the way I viewed food and my body, and therefore changing how I knew food to effect me and how I knew my body to be.

When I was overweight, I knew my body was too big, I knew I was eating too much, I knew excess calories made me gain weight. When I was underweight, I knew I had no appetite, I knew I was too bony, I knew that exercise makes you gain muscle which is why I had none, etc. I had to identify the limiting beliefs that made me know my body was a certain way.

PART TWO - writing the new story

Once I identified the beliefs that were holding me back and kept me from my goals ("I know I eat too much, even if I affirm I'm skinny, I'm still going to gain weight."), I could then change them. I wrote down a list of these beliefs, like I did above, and came up with reversals. For example;

"I overeat, so I will gain weight" -> "Calories aren't even real, so I can eat whatever I want and stay the same weight."

"I eat junk food, so I'll never be skinny" -> "I love how fast my metabolism is, I can eat junk all day and still stay so skinny." or "Junk food is just like other foods. Raspberries can't make me fat so neither can hamburgers."

"I don't exercise enough to be toned" -> "It's crazy how I'm naturally so toned and fit without trying."

The key for me was changing key beliefs that kept me dieting and exercising to lose weight, to sever the tie between calories consumed and weight, and hours exercising and muscles. These are limiting beliefs. We literally create our reality. Not ice cream, not soda and chips, none of that can overcome YOU as a divine creator. It sounds silly when you spell it out like that, doesn't it?

PART THREE - how i did it

Okay, now we understand that the secret is to change the rules of our own reality to allow us to know a higher truth (my higher truth? I am a skinny legend). So how do we put this into practice?

All you have to do is know. You set these rules, so you know they are true, reality is bound to them. You must know you are successful, know that reality is in the 4d, and feel truly satisfied in that realm. You can do this using whatever method you need to, but personally, I just knew deep within me that I was my ideal weight, and that nothing could change that, that is simply the reality, that is simply the way things are. I thought about old pictures I took of myself, and remembered how skinny I looked in them, I thought about the last time I saw my friends and how much littler they said I'd gotten, I thought about the last time I stood on the scale and how it read the exact weight I knew myself to be. And I just knew, deep within me, that was simply how things were.

And the last step, for me, was to feel truly joyful at this realization. To feel satisfied it came into fruition. Without seeking confirmation, because I already KNEW.

And what do you know? Pictures of myself in my phone from weeks ago, they were my ideal body. The girl I saw in the mirror when I stood up from my meditation? She had my ideal body. My clothes? XS and S, all of them. I had revised my ideal body all the way back to the day I bought them. And confirmed this by checking pictures I took in the dressing room.

I'm telling you right now it is possible if you know in your heart you've always had your desire. It's always been fulfilled within you. You make the rules because you are a divine creator. Nothing outside of you can change what you know to be true.

That's all for now ౨ৎ