#and so it goes | ask meme answer

[saessenach]

🙊!!!

🙊 Share your latest silly doodle with no context

hiii so

I'll cheat and give a tiiiny bit of context - this is Shanks showing off his assthe goods while serenading his bride in chapter 1 of @missmungoe 's amazing Salt Vows. She always writes the best weddings AND WITH SUCH A GROOM IT'S NO SURPRISE kdkdks

[mad-hunts]

"Can i borrow your kitchen? "

that morning left barton feeling a sense of cold that seeped all the way down into his bones; so, as one can imagine, standing in the middle of his doorway for any amount of time was not pleasant. but it seemed like trouble had been brought to his feet in the form of another rogue... and of course, it was the joker. talk about bad luck. barton thought about asking how the other had even found him here, but also, did he really want to know?

he rose both eyebrows at the other and stared the joker down to see if he was perhaps joking. unfortunately, though, there didn't turn out to be any punchline to what he said after all. an incredulous laugh left barton's mouth as he made it clear to the joker that he wasn't going to entertain his antics, ❝ uhh... is that really what you tracked me down here for? yeah, no. find someone else's kitchen to use if you don't have your own — bye. ❞

he reached out to slam the door on the other's face as quickly as possible as he prepared himself to lock the door. barton didn't want the other to be getting any ideas about forcing his way in or anything like that... especially when several of his kids were home. the joker did have a really bad track record with them, to say the least, and so there was no way barton was letting him be around them. he'd have to be a fool to place any kind of trust in the man.

[remyfire]

3, 26 or 39 for hawkahy

Mayhaps even all three as little a treat

AAAA I could only do one and still make it quick, BUT! I hope you enjoy all the same! 26.) Coming while wearing underwear/pants

The moment Hawkeye has Mulcahy backed up against the wall inside the chaplain's tent, he can feel how fast the man's breathing against him. He's clearly still not used to this. Not all that surprising, really, if he's been wrestling his own lack of awareness of his own nature rather than clear and obvious temptation for all these years. But as Hawk leans to peek through the window and make sure no one's coming, Mulcahy's shaky hands find the front of his bathrobe and grips it into white-knuckling fists as though this is the one point of contact that'll hold him together.

"It's okay," Hawk whispers, a faint bitter flavor on his tongue. He can't look at the ethereal priest. He can't touch his skin. He can't kiss him. There's barbed wire strewn beneath Mulcahy's skull, laced through neural pathways, around lobes. His very own personal crown of thorns, tucked right under the surface. "It's all right, I promise. Hey, hey." When Mulcahy buries his face in Hawk's shoulder, he fights every urge inside of him to break the unspoken rules and kiss his head, but memories of the last time he'd tried and how Mulcahy flinched away left scars that are still swollen red. "It's good. Right?"

"Hawkeye," Mulcahy breathes back, the tickle of hot air melting his neck, dripping desire down his spine. "Please, I-I... Yes, yes, please."

It's the best he's going to get today. Hawkeye bites his bottom lip as he slips his hand between them, palms over Mulcahy's cock trapped beneath his fatigues. It's got to hurt him when Hawk works him over like this, he's sure of it, but the muffled groans against his robe's fabric suggest otherwise. Maybe he's still just so sensitive that anything is good. From what little Hawkeye's gotten out of him, he can barely manage to touch himself without guilt ravaging his soul.

There are days where Hawkeye wants to swim all the way back to some Catholic school where little Johnny Mulcahy was taught to fear any sense of joy, pleasure, experience, delight, and give a dozen nuns a piece of his mind. If they love a man who overturned tables and chased people with a whip so much, then they'd adore Hawkeye Pierce.

But today is different. Today's the other kind of day, the one where Hawkeye wants to make Mulcahy feel so tenderly held and loved on that he forgets the sound of his own name. He forgets whatever they fucking did to him. He forgets everything but Hawkeye.

As Hawk gently grinds the heel of his palm along Mulcahy's hardness, the groans shift into such lovely musical moans that he's almost certain no one else has ever gotten to hear. He drinks them up, his heart racing, his eyes gazing unseeingly through the window. "That's it... C'mon, d'you know how good you're doing?"

A sweet whimper hums against him like silk on skin.

What he wouldn't give to drop to his knees and put his mouth on him instead, really make him see stars. It's not fair that he's had his face fucked and his brain wiped clean a thousand times over and he can't even use what he learned on the very man he's so hungry for. Hungry to hold. To fall asleep with.

Getting too deep here, fella.

When he starts to pick up speed, press a little firmer, something shifts him, and it takes him a moment to realize what it was. Mulcahy's moving his hips, grinding against his palm, and it's so shocking that Hawk freezes in place. Mulcahy huffs, pulls his bathrobe harder, bucks forward one more time before he starts to lean away, but Hawk pushes him firmer against the wall, keeps him there. "No, no, that's good," he coaxes, keeping his voice low and sweet. It takes a long second, but with a shaky breath against him, Mulcahy begins moving once more. Participating. Chasing his pleasure.

It's the first time he's joined in, and it nearly makes Hawkeye dizzy with how the blood rushes straight south.

They work together, Hawkeye providing just enough pressure, Mulcahy providing the pace and the angle, and though he knows he's flirting with danger, he can't stop himself from cupping the back of Mulcahy's head. Like he found a button, the moans pick up in astonishing volume, and Hawk squeezes his eyes shut, takes a chance on faith alone that no one's going to suddenly head this way and need this man who should belong to everyone more than he belongs to Hawkeye, who Hawk is going to have all the same.

And when Mulcahy breaks, his voice cracks on a raw, "Hawkeye—" and nothing could stop him from pulling him tight against his chest, holding him close.

There is no heaven and yet Hawkeye suddenly understands why there are people who believe in it, because it's difficult to imagine this sense of flying and hope and pure delight being something that one rarely gets to receive. He grins, nuzzles Mulcahy's hair. "God. Perfect. That was so good. Hey, how, how are you?"

Sometimes Mulcahy needs to cry. Sometimes he needs to pull away. Very rarely, he'll strike a coy joke, the kind that make Hawkeye burst out laughing from sheer relief. But this time, Mulcahy tips his head up to meet his eyes, takes a deep breath, then bobs up and presses his mouth to Hawkeye's chin.

They pause. Stare. Mulcahy clears his throat. "I-I don't think I aimed that quite where I—"

Hawkeye cups his face in both hands and crushes him into the wall with a breathless kiss, and God help him, but Mulcahy holds him right back.

[supercantaloupe]

favorite ways of eating potatoes (i want potatoes)

hard to pick a single favorite but my usual go to when i'm cooking potatoes for myself is to cut em into wedges (or just big chunks if the potatoes are small), douse them in olive oil, salt, and whatever herbs or spices i feel like, and then roast them hot in the oven until they're soft and golden. usually takes like 20-30 minutes at 425f flipping them over once or twice, i find. any potato would work but gold potatoes are usually what's in my pantry. although if i can get purple potatoes at the farmers market i use those bc they're fun. it's a dirt simple way to prepare potatoes but they're super good, the tastiness to effort ratio is super high, and you can cook something else on the other half of the sheet pan at the same time too so you get a whole dinner with only one dirty pan

[ask meme]

[vortex-randomly-fandom]

Soooo, do you have your legs in this timeline?

Also, where are you? I would guess you'd have to evacuate to avoid an angry mob

Sentinel: I got my Peds back thank to Onyx's t-cog that idiot threw away. But regardless thanks for asking (or concerning?).

*He said as he was tired from teaching Optimus some history lessons as a advisor.*

(from creator: you should be thanking me for giving your legs back. 😒)

Sentinel: evacuate? I don't need to hide from anyone. After Optimus prime give me a second chance as an autobot advisor,I have been trying to gain trust from others by munipula- I means talking out,and believe me these autobots are either just naive or waiting for me to lower my guard down by pretending to forgive, just to backstab me. Expect for that pink one who not even pretending and given full expression that she want to kill me.

(the creator: ☝️trying to gain "trust" from you-the person behind the screen with his charm but why is there a boss music?)

[beneathsilverstars]

Isat ask game; 5 for Siffrin, 2 for Odile and 12 for Loop

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

All my life, there you go Oh please stay, just this once Anyway All my life, there they go Oh please stay, for the night Anyway

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

that she Did That and stopped siffrin from looping. she rly is That Bitch

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

hm it's interesting thinking up a headcanon that is specifically for loop, rather than siffrin but dialed up or down.

i think... they should get into making really abstract art! like textured paint slapped onto fucked up canvases, but also more sculptural found object mixed media stuff... kinda like carving but more forgiving, kinda like collecting souvenirs but with more purpose... and they don't want to admit that they're using it to process and express their emotions but possibly every single piece is about what it feels like to be a fucked up star thing copy.

[doecrossing]

just sat through the most horrible, awkward, tense dinner I've ever experienced in my whole life

[the-black-bulls]

Your quotes make my day and I’m always checking your blog to see if you have new ones posted and aaaaaaaaaa ilyilyilyily (/p) And have a WONDERFUL day and a WONDERFUL Week and just know I LOVE YOU AND YOUR CONTENT SO MUCH!!!

Show in my inbox with your — stupidly sweet words one more time and I swear in lumiere's ashes I'll unleash bird nero at you... you have been warned.

[allylikethecat]

for the ask list: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist? & Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

AHHH Hello Anon!! Thank you for being so kind as to send me a question from the Fanfic Ask Meme! If anyone else wants to totally make my day and send some more the list can be found HERE. I love chatting about fic and am so grateful that you've taken time out of your day to send this my way!

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Does angst count as a trope? I love messy angst and miscommunication because it just feels super raw and and human to me. To no ones surprise, I LOVE a good SickFic situation omg bring on the suffering! I'm also very passionate about niche AUs where you can fully tell the author has lived in that world IRL. The omegaverse/mpreg will also always be a guilty pleasure of mine. I love the way different authors tackle those topics, the discussions it brings up about sexuality and gender roles, and how authors are so creative with building their own worlds and lore.

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

I hate when woman are made out to be the villain because their existence doesn't fit an author's personal m/m narrative whether it be in RPF or other fictional media. If female characters are going to be included, I personally believe they deserve better. Luckily, there is so much wonderful fic out there, it is very easy to go hmm this one probably isn't for me, then hit the back button and find something else to read, no harm, no foul.

Thank you so much for taking the time to send these my way! I love talking about fic and tropes, and think that fanfic is such a special space because there are so many different tropes that appeal to different people! Are there any that you in particular would like to see me try and explore?

Thank you so much for taking the time to read and send me this ask! I hope. you are having a wonderful day and a fantastic rest of your week!

❤️Ally

[digirainebow]

INCREDIBLE day for jacoblovers

[townofcadence]

🍻 - tolerating alcohol for Mack

How good is my muse at---

"Don't really drink that stuff. But I reckon when I did it didn't do too much."

[supercantaloupe]

Happy sleepover Saturday! I have for you the most minor of complaints. Positively insignificant.

Why do people take mediocre characters with so much potential for improvement and play them straight in fan works? We are blessed with the freedom to diverge from their canon characterization and make them better. But I must also acknowledge that it’s their right to not do that, for the fan works are their own.

I also have for you a question: what do you like most about yourself?

tbh i think, in a lot of fanworks, the creators become so focused on their character or relationship of choice that they don't pay as much attention or care to the other characters from the work they are adapting, even when those characters within the context of their own fanwork might benefit from some fleshing out. since it's the realm of fan creation i'm not gonna make any sweeping complaints about what should or shouldn't be done because ultimately fan creation is supposed to be fun and fulfilling to the creator, and i can't begrudge anyone for having particular favorites that they focus on more than anyone else in a particular work. but since i am the type who likes to explore things beyond the limits of canon in many directions based on the evidence provided in the original work, i do agree that it can be a disappointing missed opportunity when something with the potential for great expansion is overlooked.

what do i like most about myself...i don't know, i feel like i have a hard time being openly and sincerely self complimentary for fear of coming off as annoyingly self obsessed or something. also i think it's a hard thing to choose. but since you asked, i'm very proud of how smart/thoughtful i am, and that i generally try to approach every situation by thinking it through from multiple angles. but my coworkers and supervisors would probably go on about how quick, willing, and adaptable i am at work haha. i do enjoy being Useful

[ask meme]

[kismetlotts]

cw: money kink? Simon is obsessed, Simon loves you spending his money and giving you money, strangers online, mentions of male masturbation, mentions of oral sex, reader streams and goes live a lot, mentions of poor financial situation, Simon yearns, controlling, reader starts an OnlyFans, jealous Simon Riley, mentions of the name 'Daddy'

Simon Riley who barley uses social media and doesn't understand it well. He supposes he’s never really had a proper reason to. Sometimes he would check up on his teammates private lives, see how they are doing when they are away and off duty; sometimes he could be caught watching the odd dog meme video that pops up- earning a small, slither of a smile from the scarred stoic man.

But honestly, he’s never had a reason to bother, no account profile picture or bio and a randomly generated username he wouldn't know how to change even if he wanted to. Most of the time he would have two or three followers and always one of them was someone he had no idea of.

He never had a reason to give a shit about the online world, not until he saw you.

Sat at your desk, eyes sparkling under your warm ceiling light. Eagerly reading the chat-box at the bottom of your stream as you answered peoples questions with genuine interest. Your smile made his chest burn hot and his eyes caught notice of your fingers fidgeting with your hair. You were stunning, absolutely fucking breathtaking and Simon couldn't get enough; he needed you.

He would join every single live, not messaging or saying anything to you but just watching and suffocating in silence. He wouldn't miss the way you licked your lips wet and chewed on your lower lip as you waited for more people to join. If it wasn't for his expertise in self control he would've been fisting his cock to the sight of you.

He would have you full blast on his phone as he pottered around his house, your angelic voice singing out words of ecstasy through the cold empty walls like you were there with him. His precious little sweetheart, living with him in his head and in his home. Who would've thought a stranger like you could mess someone like Simon up this fucking badly?

He learnt things about you, jotting them down in the notebook of his brain. Learnt the places you wanted to travel to and experiences you wanted to live- and found himself wanting to be beside you: witnessing it first hand. He found himself for the first time in years wanting to live and not just survive.

Despite his toll of silence, you didn't miss the way he was always there. Checking the viewer count to see his account right at the top as per usual. Time didn't seem to matter either, when you had woken up at early in the morning and decided to go live out of boredom- he was there. In the middle of the day when you were on your lunch break, ragged looking earphones trailing out your ear as you whispered into the microphone at the back of the café, he was there watching. He was always there and it felt strange.

In honesty, his consistency petrified you. You knew it was all in your head but the nagging feeling that it was one of your fucked up, clingy exes, still keeping tabs on you despite going your separate ways, made you sick. Hoping was all you could ever do because you wouldn't dream of confronting the mysterious account that was watching, lingering and following you every second your phone was powered on. It was highly unlikely to be anyone you knew and you weren't entirely sure if that was for better or worse.

When your first couple of donations rolled in, you didn't know what to say. Smiling and thanking the donators by name as your cheeks heated up.

You never asked for money or pleaded for donations; the option was always there if people wanted to. You certainly weren't going to beg or come across as a 'money hungry' but some extra cash on the side was definitely not a bad idea. The fact that people were so generous and kind to donating pennies and pieces to help reach the goal of buying your own place. It wasn't much people were sending in but every little help strangers would accompany you with, made you realise the world wasn't so selfish after all: and when Simon noticed this. He reached for his card.

Hundreds, multiple hundreds and it was just a ridiculous amount of money that piled in from his account. It was the first time you had seen him interact with you aside from liking your content or watching your streams- what the fuck were you supposed to say? Your eyes would lock onto the screen, mouth slightly agape revealing your wet tongue as you tried to find the words. Simon fucking groaned.

The blank, grey profile picture looked back at you with numbers you couldn't comprehend attached to it. Simon was helping you tremendously and despite your gratefulness you couldn't help but end your stream- guilt surfacing in your throat because that was a lot of money to be handing away to a stranger. It felt rude taking it, you were scared to take it- it felt like borrowed money not gifted money because who sends someone that amount of cash. Who in their right fucking mind?

The worst part was he didn't stop there- in honesty, watching how fogged your mind got and watching the way you struggled for words- he couldn't find himself able to stop. It was a high for him, he wanted to give you everything you wanted.

He would crack his neck, a moan falling from his lips as he clicked on your live with a grin. Adrenaline fuelling his body as he sent more, and more, and more until he heard the shake in your voice. 'Stop' falling from your lips between nervous giggles and he knew you meant it, feeling his heart ricochet in his chest but still, he continued.

The mental aspect of the situation had led you to taking a short break off of streaming, you were sure he wasn't some crazy ex from the amount of money he had given you and the realisation it was some random stranger always being there instead, didn't make you as uncomfortable as you thought it would've. He was probably some old man with a fetish for seeing some girl like you everyday and spoiling you. The worst case scenario was that he could be a stalker or a murderer who had taken a liking into you- but even then you were highly careful of what you let slip online and who could be out there.

It was difficult, you wanted him to leave as much as you wanted him to stay- you couldn't block him after he had spent all that money on you and as much as you wished he wouldn’t have done that: it was very helpful.

A good few weeks had past since you had uploaded and you figured that he would be onto some other girl by now. Splashing the cash for some supermodel look alike as he whispers into her microphone things that drive men wild. But of course that wasn't the case.

Simon was going fucking haywire. He couldn't sleep without hearing your muffled little voice in his dreams, your sleeping little face and messed up hair with your tantalisingly lowcut pyjamas, where were you? Where had you disappeared to? He would check your account religiously, just in case you posted and his notification didn't go off. He had googled ways to tell if he had been blocked- but the reality of the situation was that you had just became inactive.

It made his lungs ache and knees weak without hearing your voice daily- just old videos he had re-watched over and over again. Your absence worried him and it worried himself with how badly he was getting attached to you. His days felt like months, his strong demeanour replaced by one that was moping and mourning. Jesus- you weren't fucking dead. If you were fucking dead he would ruin whatever stole you from him. Was this stalker like behaviour? Was he being a fucking loser for worrying about you?

Upon your return you had decided to create a dreaded OnlyFans account. It was just to raise money and you weren't expecting to blow up into some massive porn star earing millions from sex work- you kept it pretty downlow. It was as much humiliating as it was necessary- without Simon there to send you hundreds of pounds, you needed the extra pay for groceries and rent money. Plus- it seemed everyone your age was doing it so what was the harm? You uploaded a quick video to promote your new account, posted it and sat down at your one seat table.

The cold of the wooden chair hitting your thighs and the dim lights of your kitchen made you realise how tiny your apartment was. Even for one person you felt like you were incarcerated- stuck in a prison cell but you couldn't afford to leave yet. The sound of your swallow echoing into the silence as you finished up your instant ramen- humming in satisfaction as your phone hummed to. You picked it up, your stomach turning cold as a message request came through.

How much to delete your OnlyFans Account?

Simon was fucking seething. Posting your tits- your body, that little mouth of yours sucking on objects that weren't his cock for other men to see? For other men to pay for? He almost cracked his phone when he opened your notification to that and he would've if it wasn't for his urgency to get you to delete your account. He had heard of OnlyFans, he wasn't daft and you were coming off there whether you liked it or not.

Your heart stuttered seeing the familiar account and a scoff of shock fell from your lips. He hadn't forgotten you after all. The mysterious account had finally broke his silence and your stomach fluttered with feeling you couldn't make sense of. He hadn't moved on from you, he couldn't move on from you- should you be weirded out by this?

Sorry?

How much to delete your OnlyFans Account. Now?

The pulse in your vein throbbed as you finally made sense of his question. The giddy feeling from earlier at the realisation he was waiting for you, subsided into thick strings of anxiety. Hypothetically, if you had run your account on there for a good few months, posting regularly and having a handful of subscribers- you would bring home a good portion of money to save up. You couldn't ask him for a lot of money- especially after all the money he had already gave but you couldn't delete your account for little to nothing. So, you took the time to nicely write back to him and explain your financial situation to him. Explaining how you need to money to help save for a future house- that you need food and necessities and that your shitty job doesn't pay you enough.

The chat fell silent, Simon began to type and then stopped- disappearing and you shut your phone off worried you had either overshared and accidently unloaded everything onto him or upset him.

I mean- you didn't owe him anything- he donated all that money to you on his behalf but you couldn't help the niggling feeling of regret and shame that you had offended someone so nice that had done so much for you. You told yourself that he was still probably some creep, some fucked up pervert that probably only watched for one thing. But if that was the case, why would he be against your OnlyFans? Maybe you read him wrong- or maybe he wanted you all for himself.

You felt your phone ping again, opening the chat to a payment of multiple thousands.

This your spending money for food and whatever else you want. And I can buy you a house darling, don't you worry.

The high numbers full your screen and you blinked. Your head unable to comprehend if this was real or not. A whole house? Spending money? Was this guy fucking rich? He obviously had money to give away willingly so there was no doubt he was rich. But still though, did he not have a family to spend this money on- or anything better to do with it? Without properly thinking you typed back your response, sitting back on your chair as your eyes darted around your small apartment. Was he deadly serious about buying you a house?- Who were you kidding, of course he was serious.

Are you a sugar daddy or something?

Simons concrete façade broke as he snorted, reading your message. Imagining your sweet, pretty, intoxicating voice reading it out to him while he melts and loses himself in you. He should just send you his card and bank details- he should just send you all of his fucking money and spoil you absolutely rotten. He would give you anything you wanted- he would let you walk all over him and drain his fucking account. The thought of you all dolled up, new shoes, new clothes, new perfume. The thought of you comfortable, clean and fed- fuck he had never felt this horny and desperate before. He fisted his cock through his jeans as he sat up on his couch, stretching and adjusting a little before looking back down at the message. Fingers typing back a reply before plopping his phone down beside him.

Not a sugar daddy, I just like your smile, Sunshine.

But if you really wanted to call me daddy, I wouldn't be opposed to the idea.

[mystiika]

misc tag drop

[queenharumiura]

SEND IN “KABEDON” TO PIN MY MUSE AGAINST THE WALL. (from Dera based on our discord convo)

Taken from meme: [x] ||Accepting|| @whiskeysmulti

Haru had mayyybe teased Gokudera just moments prior. She had turned to walk away after she started feeling a bit too flustered. You see, it's important that they don't see you blushing, or you've already lost the battle. So before she loses the battle with herself and go red like a ripe tomato, she walked off citing that she'll go check on something in the kitchen.

She's pinned against the wall, and there is a look in his eyes that sends a shiver down her spine-- and not in a bad way. She averts her eyes, but a hand on her chin directs her to resume eye contact.

The smaller of the two flushes a deep crimson, almost regretting the way she was teasing him earlier. This must be what they mean by biting off more than you could chew. Did she want to fight back? A small part of her was telling her yes, but another part of her was saying that if she did-- things may end up escalating, and fast.

Blinking innocently, "Ehhh? Did Haru tease you too much?"

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

If you are up for it could write more Justice League x Assistant reader?

That scenario did things to me honestly, and I can't find anything similar 😭

Maybe reader calls in sick and the each JL member goes to check on them unanounced (reader never told them were they lived but of course they'd know *sideeyes batman*) which end up on all the members questioning and pointing at each other *cue spider man meme*, because why are you at my darling's- I mean our Assistant's house!

Reader kicks everyone out except the gourmet chef batman brought to cook reader some chicken soup.

A Day in Life: In Health and Sickness

Synopsis: A day in life were you, the Justice League's assistant, find out that sickness and a bunch of obsessed superheroes are just too much to bear all at once.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Platonic!Alfred Pennyworth

Tw: Nonconsensual (not sexual) touching; A single mention of obscene acts; Kinda breaking and entering; Reader gets physically restrained; Kinda forced infantilization? But not really, just humiliation; Some members of the League might be out of character bc I don't know them well enough; I was sleepy while revising and editing this so I might fix any mistakes I didn’t see later; English is not my 1st language.

Word count: 2,6k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Thank you so much for your compliments and the request!! Your suggestion really gave me inspiration to write as soon as I saw it. It's not exactly what you asked for but I hope it's the same vibe and you like it!! Also I’ve seen all the requests for a part 2 of “He's My Collar”, but as stated here, I didn't answer bc I’m working on it! I just didn't have any ideas yet!

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Whatever hit you today, it sucks. Yesterday, in the afternoon, you had a mild throbbing in your head, but not exactly a headache, at night, fever hit you, alongside a cough. Medicine helped enough but today you still felt a little warm, your head hurt, your nose was somehow stuffed and leaking at the same time. You've been awake for an hour and still just couldn't get yourself to care for your basic needs like showering and eating, let alone go to work, so you called in sick. At least you would have some piece for a day.

Or that's what you thought, until you heard some tapping on your window, scaring the shit out of you, and saw Superman outside with a sympathetic smile and holding a pharmacy bag, a crate of water bottles and food.

Ugh, of course you couldn't actually have some peace.

You took a deep breath to prepare yourself and got up, walking towards you bedroom window, and tried sticking your head outside, hoping he wouldn't enter your home if you kicked him out before, but before you could do anything else, he supersped inside and suddenly was at your side, making you dizzier.

— Hey! I heard what happened. How’re you feeling? — The alien’s face showcased his concern on his furrowed brows and he took a step too close (any step in your direction taken by one of the heroes was already too close for you), extending his arm forward to place the back of his hand in your forehead. You took a step back but he didn't seem to mind.

— Uh, I'm fine. You didn't need to come here. — Superman shook his head.

— I wanted to help. Here, I brought som- — Doorbell. The hero looked in the direction the sound came from, most likely using his X-Ray vision to look through the walls and doors, and squinted his eyes. Oh boy. — You called someone? — His voice is weirdly calm, contrasting with the way he abruptly starts marching out of your room and to the door.

Earlier you thought the fast exertion of movements would be too great for you, but apparently adrenaline was on your side, enough to follow him around as if you were the visitor inside your own place.

— I didn't. — You respond flatly and holding back a groan from annoyance, since you also didn't invite him.

Superman immediately opens the door as soon as it's within his reach and what's on the other side surprises you more than when you got the job at the watchtower.

— Superman. — Batman didn't seem surprised, but he also never showed emotions other than anger. — (Y/N). This is Penny-One. — He is surely referencing the old man well dressed on his side. — He is here to take care of you. — You raise an eyebrow, almost speechless.

— T-Take care of me? — You helplessly watch them invading your residency, painfully aware there's nothing you can do. Superman crossed his arms.

— This is not necessary, I came here to do just that. — Superman’s protest unfortunately doesn't give you any hint of how this will all turn out, nor does it scare Batman and his friend away..

— You have your own responsibilities. — Batman simply states. — You should go.

Penny-One simply turns to you.

— It's a pleasure, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N), even in your condition. Master Batman talks a lot about you. — You don't know what to stay and it probably shows, since no one waits much for your reaction before Penny-One is moving towards your kitchen and Batman and Superman continue with their argument.

You just go and sit down on your couch, questioning your life decisions and escape plans, which will have to wait until this damned curse leaves your body (and your home).

Your hands raise to rub your face and maybe give you some clearance, maybe wake you up from this nightmare, but keeping your eyes closed and sitting down only remind you of your condition. You feel worse or is it just your spirits? Either way, you let your body slide down until your side rests on the couch cushions, arms hugging your own body to try to have some warmth back. When did it become so cold?

At least their voices were low, as if trying not to bother you, it's a little soothing, especially with the promise of having food. Your eyes hurt just from staying open so you don't. At some point, some type of fabric is thrown over your body and a hand combs through your hair. You are too weak to do anything.

Next time you open your eyes, it's due to disturbing noises, your head is no longer on the arm of the couch and instead is laying on someone’s bare thighs. A pair of hands is running through your locks, and a really nice smell is in the air.

Did you fall asleep?

That would explain why your head is on fucking Wonder Woman's lap and she is looking at you lovingly. Also the fabric from before is Superman's cape.

You quickly shoot up, although just as fast, four or five pairs of hands, coming from seemingly out of nowhere — startling you even more — push you back down, you don't go without struggle, and soon, all hands disappear, green lights catch your attention and you can't move your body a single inch anymore. Somehow, you ended up restrained by a green and bright cocoon, as if you were soon to be a butterfly, only your face is free. Green Lantern’s construct.

— Hey, hey, calm down, hot stuff. I know she’s scary and you would never want to be close to anyone else but me, but you still need rest. — You're turned to the ceiling against your wishes. For some reason the fact that your whole body is covered doesn't give you the comfort nor the protection it should give you, instead, it reminds you of how vulnerable you are.

Your wide and paranoid eyes try to search for anything, since your head is being held in place. You can see Wonder Woman above you, glaring at something outside your line of vision, you are still in her lap. A bit of Aquaman’s blond hair on the bottom of your vision. And Batman, towering over you and the amazon, just observing as always.

— You can release them now, Green Lantern. — It's Superman's voice.

— He is not going to. — You see Batman saying at the same time another voice speaks the same sentence, making all of them turn in the direction of the sound, somewhere you can't see, but you recognize the voice. — He thinks they're weak and incapable of making decisions. — I'm sorry, who is weak and incapable of making decisions here? — He also wants to prove he is the only one capable of protecting and taking care of (Y/N), and impress them so they will fall right into his arms, call him a hero and give him a kiss… And other obscene things. — Batman smirks. Wonder Woman and another new and deep voice loudly laugh, the masculine voice being more obnoxious. Someone scoffs indignantly.

— Okay. Get out of my fucking head or I will make you. — The Lantern's voice sounds angry and you hear hurried footsteps. They wouldn't fight right here, right?! Right beside your sick body and in the middle of your crumpled apartament… It would make such a mess…

— I wasn't inside your head. Your thoughts were too loud, it's like you are screaming in my ear.

— I will make you scream! — You hear Superman superspeeding, probably getting in between the fighting duo.

— Ha- Green Lantern, calm down. No one will make anyone do anything here.

The agonizing feeling of restriction grows.

— WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE? — You scream in a husky voice, panting right after. Everyone is silent and the next second, the construct moves you around until you're sitting up, back to the back of the couch. You are still being held and manhandled, but at least you're not in someone's lap and you can see something other than your ceiling.

Martian Manhunter is standing a few meters away from you, Superman by his side. Wonder Woman was still sitting beside you and doesn't look like getting up any time soon, Green Lantern makes his way to sit down on your other side, placing his arm around you, gladly you can't even feel it. Batman is still standing on the side of the couch, his cape covering his body. Aquaman is sitting in your armchair, his face laid on his hand, watching amused, if not a bit annoyed.

It's so weird seeing all of them, suited up, in the middle of your living room, and in plain daylight.

— We came here to nurse you back to health. — Wonder Woman speaks.

— Uhh, don't you think this is a little too much? — The heroes look at each other as if looking for the issue.

— I mean, yeah. I could do it alone, but for some reason when I got here, these freaks had already broken into your house. — Freak Lantern says, pointing an accusing finger at the other freaks in question, the trinity, Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman. — Those two came in later. — He nodded at Martian Manhunter and Aquaman, not giving them a single look, his eyes solely on you. Like everytime he insists on overly making eye contact with you, it's a bit uncanny. — Worry not, beautiful. I will kick them out for you. — Superman and Wonder Woman snort at his arrogance.

— You could go with them. I'm fine, I don't need help. I’ve been taking care of myself for years and can still do it. — You've been nice long enough, they crossed the line, they invaded your apartment, which is so unprofessional, and you need to set limits. They just look at you with pity.

— I am are aware of my neglect. — Neglect? — But it's going to be different now that we are reunited… — Uh? What is Manhunter talking about?

— Exactly. History has proven how men are unreliable and indifferent to others. I'm the only one you need, darling. — Wonder Woman caresses your face. — I don't even know what they think they are doing here…

— What are you doing here, princess? Don't you have mommy issues to fix or a guy named Steve Trevor to talk to? — The amazon furrowed her eyebrows and glared at the one sitting on your other side.

— Don't listen to him, (Y/N). I left Steve a long time ago, when I met you. — Girl, why? Go back to your man! Leave me alone! — What about Aquaman? Doesn't he have a kingdom to rule? — The man in question dismissed her answer with a hand movement.

— I’m protecting Atlantis’s future by making sure none of you get any ideas and (Y/N) survives their illness. — Batman shook his head.

— I’ve already made sure they're taken care of. You shouldn't be here. There's more important matters for us out there.

— Then why aren't you there?

Their battle of egos is just too fast for your slowed down brain to process and try to formulate any form of strategy. Before their banter gets worse, the older man from before reappears.

— Your soup is ready, Miss/Master/Mx (Y/N). — Penny-One seems unbothered by the commotion around you, walking in with the source of the heavenly smell. Your mouth waters.

— Let me do it, Penny-One. — Wonder Woman gently offers and takes the bowl from him, along with the spoon. The Justice League makes sounds of disgust when they start watching her spoon feeding you (they wanted to be in her place).

You groan, complain, try to wiggle out of the construct but nothing works, especially with your fatigued and sick state. If you weren't claustrophobic before you might be from now on. You are clearly uncomfortable and practically begging to get out but for some reason they just won't listen. It gets to the point where as soon as you finish your soup — after realizing, again, that with those people it's just easier to surrender —, and take your medicine, Green Lantern’s temper apparently gets done with your whining and resistance, and he simply makes another construct. Now you have a pacifier in your mouth. It's your limit.

They start fighting again because some of them find it degrading, some like to hear your voice even if they know how close to cussing them out you are, and some think it's cute and prefer your quietness over your cries.

You can't move. You can't spit it out. You can't bite it off. You can't ask for help.

Green Lantern is rubbing your cheek while — slightly — mocking you. Wonder Woman is cooing at you, while trying to convince the Lantern to stop with his antics. Aquaman is clearly expressing he is on the Lantern’s side. Batman, Superman and Martian Manhunter are threatening him.

Frustration gets the better of you and the dam breaks loose. Now you are wrapped, with a pacifier and crying. Like a baby. In front of your bosses. In front of people who think you are vulnerable and need them. They're practically keeping you hostage. You didn't want them here. You told them no, countless times, and they just blatantly ignored your boundaries.

You have a pa-ci-fi-er. In. Your. Mouth.

And they are talking. They are ignoring you. They're been doing it for hours. No. Months. That's abuse.

This is the most emotion they ever got out of you and it immediately quiets everyone down. They're just staring at you, shocked. This whole thing is just a shitshow. A disaster. They're a curse. You are cursed.

It's so distracting that it makes Green Lantern lose his concentration, which is what fuels his ring’s power, and the constructs start dissipating.

You immediately get up and put as much distance between you and the team, who all have wide eyes and maybe had just now realized the gravity of the situation, while thinking about control damage.

You are searching desperately for how you could effectively kick them out, while also experiencing just the aftereffects of a new trauma, when it looks like it will get even worse. Flash zooms into the apartment.

— Hey, (Y/N)! Sorry I took so long! Busy Day. N-Not that I wouldn't quit anything and everything just to help you. I just now saw the notification that you took a day off today! W-What… W-What are you guys doing here…? — The speedster noticed after his rambles the he is not the only one in the middle of your living room, and points at the whole team, who is on the complete opposite side of you. They also point at him.

— You’re late. — Batman states.

— Slowest man alive. — Green Lantern calls out his friend.

Flash looks around as if gathering his thoughts and notices your distressed state. He turns completely to them, his back to you and him being between you and his team.

— What did you do to them? — At his demand, all of them start pointing at each other and giving some sort of explanation or their side of the story at the same time, turning it into unintelligible sounds, until your yell interrupts them.

— GET. OUT!

— But-

— OUT!

— But, (Y/N)-

— NOW! GET OUT NOW!

They grumble but comply. Penny-One, who was totally unfazed during the while ordeal, just sighs, and starts making his way with them. Until you take a timid step toward him and stop him.

— N-Not you… I-I mean the soup was really good and I don't think I will have the energy to cook later… I-If it's n-not bothering you… — The older man smiles placantinly at you.

— Of course, dear. I'm getting paid either way, might as well just finish my job here.

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