#and those that are going on spaces and saying they are are living in the same world where Larry are married with children living HEA
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IâM UP HATING POP PSYCHOLOGY. MEMEME
to be more serious: i have empathy for the urge to compartmentalize like this. genuinely, i doâ for some, processing trauma feels easier when there are ready-made labels for the things/people that hurt them. i so deeply understand the urge to file away overwhelming chaos; to make sense of the cruel and senseless; to be comforted by pop psych âgotchaâ moments and cling to categorizations. i know what it feels like to try to neatly reorganize broken self-concepts and horrifying histories. iâve dealt with this exact issue myself.
that being said⊠unfortunately, it just. doesnât. work.
automatically slapping warning labels on ASPD, NPD, BPD, etc is simply not fair nor accurate. the nuances shouldnât be ignored: does the concept that mental health matters come with conditions? does furthering the stigma really empower victims, or does it drive offenders away from self-awareness and recovery? does it really help to boil human behavior down to lists and labels, or does it just skew our perceptions of ourselves and others even further? is it productive to focus on condensing things, or should we ultimately focus on understanding the complexities that make generalization ultimately impossible?
this is NOT to say that ANYONE has to entertain or forgive abusive people. not at ALL. iâm also not saying those who donât care to improve should be forgiven and/or granted the opportunity to keep treating others poorly. there is a stark a difference between acknowledging nuance and normalizing/excusing abuseâ you can express pain without making harmful blanket statements. in fact, itâs straight up ignorant to disregard those who are working their asses off in recovery. these disorders can be uniquely challenging to live with, and stigma makes everything 10x worse, especially when trauma, defensiveness, and self-hatred are inseparable from disordered beliefs/behaviors. you have EVERY right to cut off shitty individuals and despise them and feel rage and do whatever you need to do to healâ at the same time, people who present in malignant ways wonât get any better if theyâre universally met with hostility. after all, 99% of the time, recovery seems like a far better outcome than total shunning. wouldnât it be so much better if these people had safe spaces in which they could to learn to never abuse other humans again, and to develop healthier self-concepts?
(i say this as someone whoâs been abused horribly countless times by people who present like this, developed BPD as a result, and gone through wild amounts of intensive therapy. i no longer meet the criteria for BPD.)
(of course, there are some acts that are UNFORGIVABLE. those require a⊠unique approach. i donât feel qualified to go into that territory because personal experiences have left me way too biased; just know that i donât mean to erase that line.)
also, re: MBTI/love language/brain development/brain gendering/dark empathy/blah blah blah: the same principle applies. individualsâ psychological makeups and backgrounds are too complex to accurately box in. that is the nature of the human condition, and even though it gets overwhelming, at the end of the day, itâs beautiful! there is no linear pathway for anything, and that is a GOOD thing! at best, all of those words can provide useful loose blueprints for furthering introspection; at worst, they create interpersonal divides that are either based on faulty assumptions or entirely non-existent.
we donât have to fit into boxes to find community. itâs fine to use things like MBTI and love languages as cute, unweighted bonding tools, BUT in order to truly understand each otherâs wants, needs, traits, and issues, we simply need to COMMUNICATE. no matter how isolated we feel in our struggles, WE ARE NOT ALONE. we are all mosaics of the experiences that have shaped us, and we each deserve to be understood as works of art, not as sums of our most basic parts.
tl;dr pop psychology egregiously simplifies human behavior and it is Not helpful as it seems
who up hating pop psychology
#pop psychology#cluster b#bpd thoughts#npd#aspd#mbti#trauma#myth of 25#mental heath awareness#mental health matters#abuse survivor
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DashCon 2 Venue Announcement, Vendor's Hall, and More!
The DashCon 2 team is thrilled to announce the concrete answers to all your biggest questions. Where it is, when it is, how to buy tickets, and more. You ready?
TL;DR
Where: DashCon 2 will be held at the Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre in North York, Toronto
When: July 5th, 2025
What: Tickets will go live on February 22nd. Vendor Applications will be open on February 1st, and Panelist Applications on February 10th.
Our Venue!!
[6 Sakura Way, North York, ON M3C 1Z5]
Image belongs to Bartman905 on Wordpress
The JCCC has previously hosted plenty of other fan conventions, notably the Anime North Halloween Event and Pretty Heroes. Given their experience with convention hosting and gorgeous venue space, we think theyâre the perfect fit.
So, why did this take so long?
Well⊠the JCCC wasnât our first pick. Our first pick, who we wonât name, dropped us unexpectedly after months of negotiations. Why? Original DashConâs reputation. We literally got DashConâd before the convention had even started!!
While we were expecting this and had backup plans, we were blindsided by a rejection this late into the negotiation process. After reaching out to our other contacts, we settled on the JCCC, but we had to restart the entire process. So much of our planning had to be restarted or paused, which set us way behind schedule. Naturally, we didnât want to say anything about losing our venue spot until weâd adequately replaced it.
Weâre happy to say that the Classic DashCon Venue Struggle is over and done with - and our rental with the JCCC is paid in advance. No $17k hostage situation necessary.
However, all this provokes another obvious question: why did you go public with the project when you hadnât signed with the venue yet? In short: Strange Aeonsâ DashCon: An Extensive Oral History video. We were already knee-deep in the project behind the scenes before finding out she was making a YouTube video about DashCon, pushing the story into the public eye again. The team was concerned that declaring we were organizing DashCon 2 soon after Strange Aeonsâ video would imply it was a rush-job inspired by her video. We were far enough along in the initial venue negotiations that we decided to go public with the video rather than after it.
Date & Time
DashCon 2 will be held for one day: Saturday, 5th July 2025. We alluded to using the same weekend as the original DashCon when we first went public, but unfortunately this date wasnât available at our venue. This does mean itâs pretty close to the American 4th of July - in our defense, we didnât really think of that, weâre Canadian.
The convention will open to the public at 9:30 AM and close at 9:30 PM. All this information and more will be available on our website.
(These hours may be subject to minor changes, please always check our website for our most recent info!)
Admission
Ticket sales to in-person DashCon 2 will open on Feb 22nd! Mark your calendarsâŠ
Weâll be processing ticket sales through Simpli Events, an all-Canadian competitor to Eventbrite. You can click here to find the events page.
Weâre working on the feasibility of expanding DashCon 2 into a hybrid event, with live-streams of the most anticipated panels/events and some other informal online panels hosted on a private Discord. More information on those will come at a later date.
Vendor and Panel Applications
DashCon 2âs Artist Alley/Vendor's Hall is a space for independent artisans who create print media, handmade crafts, or other merchandise. If you want the opportunity to sell your merchandise at DashCon 2, then youâll be excited to learn that vendor applications will open on February 1st!
Please see www.dashcontwo.com/dealers-hall/ for more details about tables, prices, and merchandise. The link to the application form will be posted there.
Weâre also happy to say that weâre opening panel applications on February 10th! We have a few guest panellists already lined up (including a few we canât talk about yet), but weâre excited to open applications to everyone with a good idea! All DashCon 2 panels will be moderated by our volunteer team, and weâll put out more info soon about volunteer sign-ups!
#dashcon#dashcontwo#ballpit#BIG ANNOUNCEMENT#yall we've been waiting on this for so long#dashcon two info#cirque du dash
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together | p.js
pairing: husband!jay x fem!reader
synopsis: after months of sleepless nights with your fussy five-month-old, you finally break down, overwhelmed by exhaustion and guilt. jay, your ever-attentive husband, steps in with gentle words, warm hugs, and playful humor, reminding you youâre the best mom and wife. he promises to give you the rest you deserve, proving heâs always your safe haven.
warnings/others: mention of miscarriage, usage of nickname (angel, baby), jay is sickeningly sweet and gentle :(
wc: 946
a/n: hehe my first jay fic is heređ i hope you enjoy this as much as i do!! reblogs and comments are highly appreciatedđ hereâs my masterlist!
âjjongieâŠâ you sigh as you step into the bedroom, your voice soft but so heavy with exhaustion it pulls jayâs attention immediately. he glances up from his spot against the headboard, closing his laptop and placing it on the bedside table without hesitation. his eyes scan your face, already concerned.
âyes, angel?â his voice is gentle as he beckons you closer. âis little princess asleep?â
you nod, your lips curling slightly at the nickname. lia, your five-month-old daughter, has been nothing short of a miracle in your livesâa beacon of light after the darkness of your miscarriage. but tonight, even the thought of her sweet little face canât ease the ache in your body.
âyeah,â you murmur, rubbing your eyes. âbut it took forever. sheâs so fussy lately.â
jay notices the tiredness in your voice, the way your shoulders droop as if youâre carrying the weight of the world. âcome here,â he says softly, patting the space next to him. but instead of joining him, you stop in the middle of the room, your voice trembling.
âiâm tired, jay.â
he blinks, momentarily confused. âthen you should go to sleep, angel.â
itâs clear he doesnât quite understand what you mean, and those simple wordsâwell-meaning as they areâare enough to tip you over the edge. you sink to the floor as your body gives in, and before you know it, tears are streaming down your face. you try to hold it back, but the sobs come anyway, shaking your small frame.
âangel!â jayâs voice is alarmed, and in an instant, heâs off the bed and kneeling in front of you. his strong arms wrap around you, lifting you effortlessly as if you weigh nothing. he settles you on the bed, cradling you in his lap like youâre something fragile and precious.
âwhatâs wrong, baby?â his voice is soft, his hand gently stroking your hair. âtalk to me. is it lia?â
the mention of your daughter makes your tears fall harder, guilt and exhaustion crashing down on you all at once. you manage a small nod, burying your face in his chest as he holds you tighter.
âsheâs just so fussy,â you choke out between sobs. âshe cries if i put her down, she doesnât want to sleep, she needs me constantly. andâand i canât get anything done. the house is a mess, the laundry is piling up, and i just⊠i feel like iâm failing her. like iâm failing you.â
jayâs heart aches as he listens, guilt washing over him for not noticing just how overwhelmed youâve been. he cups your face gently, tilting your chin so youâre looking at him. his thumbs wipe away your tears as his warm eyes meet yours.
âdonât you ever say that again,â he says firmly, his voice steady but kind. âyou are not failing anyone, least of all me or lia. youâre the most amazing mom and the most amazing woman. i mean it, angel. lia is so lucky to have you, and so am i.â
âbut you do so much too,â you whisper, sniffling. âyou help with her, with the house, with everything. i should be able to handle this.â
jay shakes his head, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. âbaby, weâre a team. itâs not your job to âhandleâ everything by yourself. and if it feels like iâve let you down, iâm so sorry. iâve been so caught up in work, but thatâs no excuse. i shouldâve noticed how hard itâs been for you.â
he kisses your temple next, then your damp cheeks, his lips lingering as if trying to kiss away all your worries. âfrom now on, weâre doing this together, okay? every late-night feeding, every diaper blowout, every fussy day. youâre not alone in this, angel.â
âbut what if i canât?â you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
jay smiles softly, his forehead pressing against yours. âyou can. and when you feel like you canât, iâll be here to remind you that you can. weâll figure it out together.â
before you can protest further, jay scoops you up bridal style, making you squeak in surprise. âjay! what are you doing?â
âtaking care of my angel,â he replies, grinning as he carries you to the bed. âyou take care of everyone elseâitâs my turn.â
he lays you down gently, tucking the blanket snugly around you. then he slides in beside you, pulling you into his arms. âtomorrow, iâm taking lia to my parentsâ house,â he announces as though itâs already set in stone.
your eyes widen. âwhat? jay, you donât have toââ
âshh, no arguments,â he interrupts, a playful smile tugging at his lips. âyou deserve a break. youâre spending the entire day doing whatever you wantâsleeping, eating, watching trashy reality shows. and if you donât, iâll personally bribe you with massages and⊠maybe a shopping spree.â
you let out a watery laugh, and jayâs grin grows. âthere she is,â he says, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth. âthereâs my pretty wife.â
âyouâre ridiculous,â you mumble, though your cheeks warm at his words.
âand you love me for it,â he counters, smirking. âseriously, angel, let me spoil you tomorrow. youâve earned it. you deserve it.â
his arms tighten around you, his warmth and steady heartbeat already easing your nerves. âyouâre the strongest, most beautiful person i know,â he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair. âand iâm so, so grateful for you.â
you close your eyes, the exhaustion finally giving way to peace. as you drift off, you hear jay whisper one last thing, his voice soft and full of love.
âyouâll always be my number one, angel. now and forever.â
© all rights reserved | hsnlv 2025
#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#jay fluff#jay fanfic#enhypen jay#jay soft hours#enhypen jay fluff#enhypen jay fic#enhypen jay fanfic#jay imagines#jay scenarios#enhypen jay imagines#enhypen jay scenarios#park jongseong#jongseong x reader#enhypen jongseong#enhypen jay x reader#enhypen jay x you#enhypen jay imagine
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Beyond The Bat
(Neglected reader x Yandere batfam)
Chapter 1: In The Shadows
TW!!! Cursing !!Dark AU!!
Living in the Wayne manor isn't the sweet luxurious dream you'd think it'd be, reality is in fact much crueler. For as long as I could remember I had lived in this dreary mansion, but lived isn't the word I'd use. I was more trapped here if anything. My "family", if I could even call them that, are well respected people. They're highly skilled and talented people, someone like me could only dream to be like them. I tried so hard to get close to them, I really did try, but no matter what I did nothing worked. I did everything, gymnastics, martial arts, theater, art, music, coding, dance, volleyball, cheerleading, heck I was even in the honors society. Despite being an A+ student and a role model in high society they never once went to any of my recitals, games, or showcases. I went to galas all alone, I had to deal with the sneering faces and snide remarks of high class men and woman alone since I was 8. Not very safe for a child huh? I didn't think so either but my "father" doesn't seem to care.
Nevertheless, I have no choice in this matter and it's not like life here is unbearable. Sure I get beatings and tongue lashings every now and then, but for the most part everyone in the manor tends to forget me eventually and leave me alone. It's pretty isolating but I got used to it, after all I have duties to perform. I have my job as Student council president and I don't intend to slack off. I got that job with my own blood sweat and tears and I will not let all those sleepless nights go to waste. I don't have time to wallow in self pity I have countless of students looking up to me and counting on me to do my job.
"Young master, are you okay? You seem to be staring off into space."
I looked up to our old butler, his face jaded and littered with wrinkles that seemed to contort pathetically in worry. I knew better than to accept his pity. He seems to be a wise gentle man on the outside with his elegant wardrobe, worn old body, and soft spoken demeanor, but do not be fooled. In truth, Alfred Pennyworth was a foolish coward. This was the same man who abandoned his own daughter just like my idiot of a father. I gave him a chance, but nothing's been the same since the day he accidentally called me Julia. I was nothing but a stand in for him, someone to relieve his guilt with.
"I'm fine. Don't you have something better to do? I'm sure Bruce has some kind of task for you, no need to bother yourself with my problems"
"...Very well then...Take care of yourself young master."
He clearly had something more to say but he decided to do nothing and walk away. Like I said he's a coward. Still I'm not new to disappointment, whether it's the disappointment of missed birthdays or the way they all see me as the disappointment, it's nothing I haven't experienced before. I quickly packed up my things and headed to school. Sure riding to school on an old worn out bike isn't exactly ideal, but I have to deal with what I have. Although, I do have to take some back alleys to school since I don't want anyone seeing and starting a scandal. I can already see the blaring headlines, "Daughter of Gotham's richest man caught riding to school on a beat up bicycle!". What a bunch of nosy bastards.
"Good mornin' (Y/N)!"
I turned to face the sunny senior calling my name, his unadulterated joy making him stand out in the crowd of groggy gothamites.
"Good morning Cyrus."
My crisp responses never seems to deter the boy as he continues to walk beside me chattering endlessly.
"(Y/N) I got things you asked! It's super cool what you're doing for the school, I'm so happy I get to be apart of it! If you ever need help with anything please do ask me!"
I sighed, his joyful energy was contagious. I couldn't help but crack a smile. Though it quickly disappeared as I regained my composure, but obviously not fast enough since Cyrus' joy seems to only be growing.
"Ahhhhh (Y/N) just smiled! I made the student president smile! I'm so sigma"
Here he goes again with those weird words and that cocky grin. I sighed once again, I'm too tired for this.
"Yes thank you Cyrus get to class now, I'll pick up the things I asked for after school."
"Yes ma'am!"
I watched as he playfully saluted and ran to class almost bumping into several people along the way. I facepalmed, he was such a handful but strangely I don't really mind. It's probably the lack of sleep I'll make sure to go to bed early today, for now I have to get to class myself.
Author's note: Omg chapter one is finally out! This took me a lot longer than expected but I hope it's good I went through a tiny writer's blockđ
. I hope you guys like Cyrus I tried to make him a silly and sunny character but trust me he'll have lore and be a much deeper character. I also tried making (Y/N)'s backstory pretty vague since they're the narrator and I figured they wouldn't like talking about it, but their lore will be revealed more throughout future chapters. Anyways as always thank you all for reading and have a good day/night!
Credits to khaer for the dividers
@simpingpandas @rosalietodd013 @sirenetheblogger @cim0nnin @00hellohello00 @crazycaoticsimp @lovebug-apple @youdontknowshtaboutfk
#x reader#yandere batfam#batfam#neglected reader#yandere batboys#yandere batfam x neglected reader#yandere platonic#barbara gordon#batman#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#damian wayne#stephanie brown#cassandra cain#alfred pennyworth#tim drake
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A Barter 3
Warnings:Â suggestions of death, I am a dark blog and I write dark things.
Summary:Â You are bargained to be wife to the witcher if he can slew the beast in the village.
Character:Â Geralt of Rivia
**note, I am not a Witcher genius or aficionado and so I may get some things wrong.
As usual, I appreciate any and all feedback and enthusiasm. Please reblog and leave a comment. Love! đ
Thereâs a hush throughout the barn. The guildmen crowd around the doors as Todrick presses himself to the wood. With the help of several others, he lifts the bar that keeps the entrance in place. You sit with Marsh and watch patiently. A group of women titter nervously and wring their hands.Â
The end of the bar hits the ground with an echoing thunk and the men angle it away to lean against a post. The doors shift as the clustered bodies let them open bit by bit. The smell of dew pervades the space, swallowing up the stink of confinement.Â
Thereâs a gasp and the doors are let go. The daylight pours over Todrick and the guildmen. They stare out into the village.Â
âThe fog has lifted,â Marsell declares.Â
âThe witcher has slain the beast,â Todrick adds.Â
The women creep forward as your little brother stirs against you. His head is wobbly as he sits up, still confused in the dregs of sleep. You rub his bony back and peer around. Your father sits in a corner, as despondent as the day the witcher came.Â
âIs it true?â Caralyn appears with her sisters, Orania and Aster, âhas he done it?âÂ
You look over at the doors as Todrick fusses with the short sword on his belt and steps out with heavy hesitance in his boots. Marsell keeps close as he follows and the other men clutch their tools, hammers and sickles alike, as they brave the open air.Â
âI am to be wed,â you squeeze Marshâs shoulder.Â
âWill you go away?â Your brother asks. âLike mother and Lessa?âÂ
You share a look with Caralyn, âI will go wherever my husband bids, Marsh. And I shall miss you and father but perhaps he would be gracious to let me visit.âÂ
Marsh sniffles, âI will be alone.â He wipes his cheeks mournfully, âwithout Lessa, without mother, and father...âÂ
âYou will have us,â Caralyn says. âWe have all lost those we love so we must learn to love what is left.âÂ
He nods but continues to snivel. He turns and clings to you, âpromise youâll come back. Promise.âÂ
You pet his head as icy hollowness consumes you. You stare up at your loyal friend. You gulp, âI promise, Marshy. I will see you again.âÂ
Caralyn gives a bittersweet smile before her sisters tear her way. They catch up to her brothers as the men without holler. âIt is gone. It is clear.âÂ
A cheer goes up and draws the women from their fear as they creep forward to see through the barn doors. You stay as you are as those who live erupt in glee. Marsh continues to weep as you find not well to draw from. You are empty.Â
Your strength only comes with the approach of hooves. You lift your head and look at the wall as if you might see through it. You gently urge your brother away and take him by the hand. You bring him up with you and near the doors.Â
The dark horse and its rider come up between what is left of the mill and a house. There is ruin left in the wake of the unnatural fog. Whatever that monster was, it ate at more than the living.Â
You step out with Marsh and stop him. You bend to hug him and whisper to him, âI love you brother, keep well.âÂ
âSister,â he sobs as you pull back.Â
You give him over to Caralyn and she ushers him away, her own face streaked in grief. A sombre air falls over the uproar. The villagers quiet and Todrick looks in your direction. The rest follow his gaze. They watch as you stride toward the witcher.Â
He slows his steed and looks down upon you. You bow your head, âyou have defeated the evil as promised, sir, and so, on behalf of my people, I will fulfill my duty. We are most grateful for your service.âÂ
You keep your chin down, your body rigid, your spirit shaky. He does not respond but to extend his arm, his leather gauntlet filling your vision. You steel yourself and latch onto him. He hauls you up and sits you in front of him. He clicks his tongue and the horse sweeps around and canters away.Â
Just like that, as swiftly as he came, you are gone off to your fate. A witcherâs wife, whatever that may entail.Â
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wwe/pro fighters!141 x announcer!reader (pt 2.)
Two losses in a row, a broken arm, and a complete disruption of the script. Add it all up, and it's trouble for you. So much so that your boss, Shepherd, called you into his office and told you to fix it. Or else. Not ominous at all.
an: oh yeah buddy pt 2. tried to do a pov switch (?) hope it isnt too confusing lmao. tried to keep reader as gender neutral as possible. dee vs accents, dee vs giving the reader a nickname
tw: nothing much, tagging these just to be safe. reader is told to "cover up more" and be less of a distraction, soap is a clingy, overenthusiastic little guy, reader briefly wants to kill their boss
(masterlist, 1)
"Four against three. One with a broken arm. Tell me how, in less than two matches, a team with a perfect track record loses twice and completely disrupts the script?"
You start, but Shepherd interrupts you. "They got distracted, that's how." He stands and starts pacing, looming over you. "The 141 boys were supposed to win last night. That's the script, that's why we did the promo the way we did it. And they, pro wrestlers with years of experience, got distracted."
He slams his hand down on the desk.
"Fix it." A finger in your face. "I don't care how! Cover up more, talk less, I don't care. Fix it!"
And like that, you're dismissed. Left standing outside his office door like some puppy. You want to march right back in there and slam his stupid, deformed pug-looking face right into his desk. But you can't. You need this job. It's your dream and your only source of income.
So you go home, and you stare into the mirror for a good ten minutes.
Okay. Just... talk less. Easy. You can shut up, you can stop talking. Not like you're the only announcer anyway, you have your coworkers. But how would that even work? You're an announcer. You announce things! Are you just supposed to not do your job? Does Shepherd not know why he hired you? Is he not the one signing the checks?
You settle for wearing a turtleneck the next day.
Pulling into the parking lot is no problem, neither is passing through security and going backstage, but the second you pass the men's locker room on the way to your booth, you're stopped.
"Aye, bonnie!" An arm makes its way over your shoulders, and turning your head, you see a familiar sharp grin.
"Soap." You shrug him off. Usually, it's fine, just him being touchy as normal, but you were told to sort out the distraction problem, to take up less space in the company, so you need to do that.
A flash of hurt passes over his face, and it stabs at your heart. "You can call me Johnny-" You shake your head. You did, before the whole almost losing your job thing.
You walk away before he can pull out the puppy eyes.
-------------
"Somethin''s up with our announcer."
Gaz pokes his head up at that. "Sunshine?" At Soap's nod, he curses and stops his stretches. Ghost looks up too, eyes narrowed, always watching.
"Knew something was off when I saw the turtleneck. Never worn one of 'em before." He huffs, looking at the little TV they have in the room to see what's going on. "I mean, steamin' Jesus. Thing swallows 'em. Like I'm watching a live show of a nunnery."
"Somethin' wrong?" Price chooses that moment to look up from his cigar and actually pay attention to the conversation.
"Aye. Sunshine's a bit too quiet, ye ken?"
Price hums, running a hand over his face and beard. "A bit concerning. Not like 'em to be quiet for so long. Someone say something?"
Gaz and Soap look at each other, clearly not considering that option, then back at the TV.
"Maybe we should look into it." Ghost speaks up for the first time, voice a low mix of a whisper and grumble as he fixes a few stray stitches in his costume. "Saw 'em leave Shepherds office yesterday. Could pay 'im a little visit."
Price stands, groaning and rubbing a hand on his lower back. He really needs to use those ice packs his PT gave him. "I'll go. Stay low for now, prep for that interview."
A chorus of "Aye, Cap" rings out, and Price exits the locker room.
Soap waits for a few seconds before he rises, and is immediately tugged right back down by Ghost. A dog on a leash, he is. "Don't you even think about it, Johnny. You give 'im enough of a headache."
He grumbles, but he slumps down in his seat, eyeing the TV. Eyeing you. (And that stupid turtleneck.)
#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#simon riley x you#tf 141 x reader#gaz x reader#john price x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#soap x reader#tf 141 x you#tf141 x reader
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And this is the thing I want to have people understand its beyond difficult and rare to actually look at their society and independently come to the conclusion that its wrong especially when everything in that society is telling you, and not only telling you, but explaining to you why its right.
Like imagine you go back in time to before heliocentrism or germ theory and ask yourself if you could convince them, disproving their theories. You know terracenterism and misma theory is wrong but you don't know why its wrong.
And heres the thing you know now its wrong but your society had to tell you that and explain how its own system works and could produce evidence.
You don't get that with the past theories and you don't get that in authoritarian societies.
It is a heroic effort to say and come to the conclusion independently that "my society is wrong". You wont have means of getting evidence, you won't even know how to understand it. You wont have people to point to in authority as justification for your opinion.
You will have to stand in front of jury not of strangers but your lovers, friends, family, and so many others and say "this is wrong." And stand by it. You have to formulate the thought and fight for it.
That is hard. Then you have to go one more difficult. To answer "and this is what we do about it." You are basically making the germ theory or heliocentrism of your era, and you have to do it all alone.
That's evil great advantage. It can live with a half truth. Good needs a complete answer.
Like you aren't worrying about dying you are worrying about the truth dying with you, hopelessly.
And that's why I say most people wouldn't have been against fascism or the nazis. They would have been okay with it. They wouldn't know any better. Because what is required to say no, is beyond difficult and when you are taught constantly to fall in line and be politically correct, the end result is that you stop having that independence to say "This is wrong". That singular important trait which is necessary to fight authoritarianism is increasingly rare in leftist spaces.
And I keep seeing it and it worries me. If any part of leftism needs to be completely destroyed for the good of humanity its that. Completely discredited, devalued, and fought aggressively.
Whatever you think of the right, they don't have that issue. We fight each other over everything. Even if you don't like the right you need to understand that leftists have to lose and keep losing until they lose those ideas which kill their ability to say "no this is wrong" to their fellows. You need it more than anything else. Please don't let it go.
The moment for thinking âwhat would I have done in Germany before and during Hitlerâs reignâ is over. Look back over the past two years. What did you do? What did you think and feel?
Did your opinion about Jews change?
If you went from supporting all Jews to thinking that a least some Jews, (namely âZionistsâ or âIsraelisâ) deserve suffering, exile, and/or death, then you fell for modern antisemitic propaganda, and you wouldâve fallen for it in Nazi Germany, too.
Maybe you would blink if the police today started rounding up the Jews in your neighborhood, or smashing synagogues, or arresting Jews off the streets. But would you feel better about it if they call them Zionists or Israelis? Theyâre not arresting âgood Jewsâ, theyâre arresting Zionists, to make them pay for their crimes.
Itâs not too late to fix that, though. You can come back from being sucked into antisemitism. You can do better going forward.
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Viktor Modern!AU uni headcanons
ohhh hes in my head i have so many thoughts i have so much to say about him. you guys just let me cook. ok. okay thanks. please reblog like whatever im new here LOL
warnings/key takeaways: mention of recreational drug use, freshman/sophomore year of uni, lots of studying, goofy meet cute, oblivious nerd viktor, both of you live on campus in dorms (same building), GENDER NEUTRAL (use of âyouâ, no specific pronouns)
HE SMOKES WEED
IDGAF HE SMOKES WEED
not like some crazy stuff. no. he smokes weed ti not feel PAIN. yeah you heard me. he smokes shit w high CBD content. doesnât smoke it for the high, smokes it to feel better
think he would have it medically and everything
ohhh uni viktor would be the only fucker allowed to smoke in his dorm because if his leg got bad how could he go outside huh?? he didnât share this news (of him being allowed to smoke indoors) but people knew since heâd have a window cracked open all the time. not fooling anyone
on this note i feel like he would only smoke if he absolutely needed to. yk how people go âi can quit anytime!â but never do? heâs the kind of guy to say that but MEAN IT. he just prefers his joints over painkillers because he finds they work faster
ok enough weed talk. heâs getting his masters in biomedical engineering. its obvious you guys ive seen this everywhere.
he wants to make people better prosthetics. he also got a degree in prosthetics and orthotics techs but it was only a 2 year so its âjust a paperâ as he says
he studies hardcore. its surprising he even makes friends (sorry viktor) but he saw a lot of potential in jayce as a student from people watching. like in canon au :D!
on that note, biggest people watcher. its actually kind of how he got his friends. extroverts pick up introverts from introvert daycare (the corner of the room)
relationship headcanons
if you guys were to meet, it would be one of those silly meetcute things.
hear me out. you book a study room with your friends to study for exams, but none of them show. shame. one got sick, the other had to go home to see their parents or something. all in all, you were DITCHED by your homies
now. someone coordinating the rooms messed up. viktor had that room booked the SAME time you did! gasp! he just likes the space of the rooms to properly spread out his work.
anyway you were already in the room and he shows up. and just stands there. awkwardly. standing man emoji.
instead of apologizing, he STANDS HIS MFING GROUND. âi have this room booked for three hours.â
âthats crazy because ME TOO.â
you go back and forth, before you both realize the confirmation email you got was from the same person or whatever. who had booked the room for you two. not two separate rooms.
after viktor makes a small mumble of âof courseâ, you offer to let him stay anyway. and explain that you originally had friends going over but they dipped.
its exam season, you arenât leaving and you arenât gonna kick him out! thats so cruel!!!
at the end you end up exchanging numbers. and find out youâre in the same dormitory building!!!
he invites you to study with him in a study room next time, to âprevent the coordinator from messing up againâ â he just likes your presence
bing bang boom friends. occasionally one of you begins to break silence, asking silly questions about futures and families and holidays. conversation is limited, you are both locked in to studying most of the time
unfortunately YOU are the one to ask him out. viktor is literally just comfortable with your presence and too in his head to think youâd ever LIKE him romantically.
you take him to a museum. yeah. the local one had a free day for students. youâre also 100% chill with sitting whenever he looked uncomfortable. even if he denied needing rest, his face did that little scrunch thing and you just knew
after that you went to the uni again, to the dining hall. and he insisted on giving you a meal off of his meal plan. he said he âbarely uses them all anyway,â and forces you to take it. even if it kind of wasnât allowed. he just lied to the clerk and said he was going to take it home.
very sweet if him, breaking RULES?
thats like the only rule he breaks for you
no, he wonât let you sleep in his dorm
no, he wonât sleep in YOUR dorm either
no, he wonât sneak out past curfew
(unless ur dying)
there was a time you texted him âhelpâ at midnight and he made his way all the way to your dorm very quietly.
turns out you had burnt popcorn. and it tasted horrible and you were honestly stressed to the point of tears. he thought you had gotten hurt. he proceeded to lecture you on appropriate texts to send at midnight past curfew. for like an hour.
glorious ovulation i need to smoke with him.
#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#arcane#arcane x reader#viktor x you#viktor my beloved#tw weed#fluff#fiction#flattocatto writes#i hope we all like my first post#im figuring it out#this site is new to me#im like an old person w their first phone.
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*sprints in full speed slams into wall and jumps back out again* YOU HAVE DONE STORY OF ONE OF MY FAVORITE ITERATIONS OF SHOCKWAVE EVER: TRANSFORMERS ANIMATED SHOCKWAVE! IâM SO EXCITED AND EAGER TO SEE WHERE THIS CONTINUES ONTO!!
Heâs an unsettling cryptid
Safe In The Dark Pt 2
TFA Shockwave x Reader
âąYouâd gone curiously limp while being transported, but he can still feel your heart beating against his servos as he stalks into the Nemesis. So still alive. And figuring out how effective having an organic about as insurance is, heâs tempted to keep you. Because as long as he has you about as a shield, heâs untouchable. The Autobots and their âmorals.â And heâs not really been able to have a chance to study the little, organic natives. âYou dare defile Lord Megatronâs vessel with organic filth?â
âą Turning at the belligerent voice, Shockwave barely suppresses a growl as he stares down Lugnut. Raving fanatic. Unable to resist the urge to stroke a servo against you just to make the other Decepticon angrier. âI believe I can dare to do whatever I wish. And you shouldnât question your superiors.â Striding past, as Lugnut sputters indignantly, he heads into the space heâs claimed as his temporary lab and lays you on his console. âWell, youâre already proving your value.â
âą Groaning as you open your eyes and then immediately shut them again. Playing dead when you realize the nightmare still isnât over. That giant horrorâs servos moving on what seems to be a huge keyboard, itâs single, baleful optic fixed on a screen of alien gibberish when you dare to squint. Afraid to even breathe, you begin slowly scooting yourself back. Trying to move without it seeing you. Because whatever it wants with you, youâre probably not going to like it.
âą âYouâre not nearly as stealthy as you imagine you are,â he says, not bothering to look as you slink backwards. Where exactly do you think youâre going to go anyway? Thereâs no way for you to get down without breaking those little bones. Laying a hand on the console, he taps a servo and listens to you shuffling around. Curious to see if youâll actually throw yourself to your death just to escape him. How brave are you?
âą Frozen, you try to breathe through the clawing panic. To think. Youâre still alive, so it must want something from you. âWhy did you take me?â Watches it push back slightly from the console, attention still on the screen. âYou want something, right?â Skin crawling, you wish you were braver. That you could stand up to him, defiant and strong. Instead of being terrified out of your mind.
âą Turning to find you lingering at the edge of the console, his head tilts. âIâd like to propose a mutually beneficial agreement.â Watches you wrap your arms around yourself, chin lifting. âYou play my prisoner and keep the Autobots preoccupied with not shooting me. And Iâll allow you to live.â Offering you a servo as you dig your little nails into your upper arms to leave little crescents before you reach and lay a tiny, warm hand on his servo. Accepting his offer. But then, itâs not like you really have a choice.
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electric touch (part 2)
Pairing: Bucky x medical team! reader
Summary: Getting a spot on the field medical team was your dream. And your closest work friend Bucky Barnes finally asking you out? That was the cherry on top of your good news. Now all you had to do was pass your training week. Seems easy enough until youâre faced with someone who doesnât want to see you win.
Warnings: abuse of power, verbal abuse, physical assault, some PTSD (but none of these are because of Bucky!!!!)
Wordcount: 8.5k
Part 1
Notes: WELP, sorry for the delay on this one. I've never rewritten so many scenes before (I have about 2k worth of trash from this part). thank you so much for your patience and for reading and reblogging part 1. hope you enjoy!!! <3
--
You didnât anticipate the first-time seeing Buckyâs apartment would be like this: after two hours spent at a private clinic in Midtown, getting an x-ray then a consultation with a Dr. Alvarez, followed by the application of a cast. Then there was a visit from Tony Stark himself, alongside Pepper Potts, who carried a great amount of apologies and offered support for whatever the next steps ended up being.
Not once did you think you would be sneaking into the Tower through a back elevator, arm resting in a sling, shuffling your feet quietly beside Bucky as you ventured to his apartment, and feeling somehow both on edge and utterly exhausted throughout the whole process. And Bucky checked in with you every step of the way â sometimes with just a cursory glance. He managed to say so much without saying anything at all, and you really appreciated that.
God, he was so careful with you. Gentle, even. Gentle wasnât the first word you would use to describe Bucky. Not that he was rough or reckless or brutish or whatever the opposite of gentle was. When it came to you, he was always kind and quiet and attentive.
But the way he spoke to you, how he had apologized after every bump and pothole as the ground shook his car, how he held his hand at your back as he guided you to his door - it was unexpected and gentle and exactly what kept you from spiraling.Â
Despite all that, you wanted to visit his apartment for the first time excited, with butterflies in your stomach. Why did it have to be like this?
When you got to his door, there was a Stark Industries bag hanging off the handle. Bucky paused, then nodded with a hum before scanning his access card to open the door.Â
The living spaces at the Tower were pretty basic, and you knew Bucky wasnât intending on staying there forever, but he somehow managed to make it feel like his home nonetheless.Â
A basic kitchen was immediately on your left as you walked in, open directly into the living room - which had a big, comfortable couch covered in a few pillows and blankets. You carefully fell into it, eyes closed. The impact made you wince but you decided it was worth it, given how you sank into the cushions.
âSo, what do you want to eat?â Bucky had stopped in the kitchen area, grabbing what looked like a stack of menus from the top of the fridge.
You just shrugged, glancing over at him briefly before closing your eyes. âIâm not really hungry.â
Even though you werenât looking at him, you could sense the frown on his face.
He sighed out your name. âDidnât we just learn a lesson about taking those intense pain meds on an empty stomach?â He paused. âActually, you think about it, Iâm going to change...â
You squeezed your eyes even harder, trying to scrub away that recent memory.Â
The doctor had been fitting the temporary cast on your hand and wrist just as whatever remaining particles of pain medication seemed to disappear from your bloodstream. That had been enough to make you feel nauseated but then when a nurse came to share some stronger meds with you, Bucky was quick to grab the nearest trash can when they immediately made you throw up.Â
Most of it made it into the can, at least.
Now he was probably going to change out of his shirt that had been hit with the rest.
In the few moments of quiet while Bucky was in his bedroom, everything about the last few days hit you all at once.Â
Boone. The gym. Your face on the mat. The way he yelled, screamed. Why hadnât you left?Â
Your couch. The growing pain. The purple and yellow and blue bruises. Why didnât you just walk away?
Bucky.
Bucky at your door, with soup. Bucky with his tender touch. Your hand.
Pepper Potts, her kindness.Â
The doctor.
The doctor said something about surgery after seeing your x-ray. Metacarpal break in your hand, down from the ring finger, and a hairline fracture down your wrist.
Pepper had been so kind but what was it she said about a police report? About filing a report with HR? What had she said about taking a break from work?
Bucky, Bucky had been so patient. He hadnât left your side. Butâ
How would you ever write again? Could you hold a pen? Would you be able to do your job? Now you wouldnât have your new role and youâd be shit at your current job, too. How could a nurse function without typing notes or holding a stethoscope or â
Boone. The gym. Your face on the mat. Bucky. Boone. Bucky. Your hand and this cast and this goddamn sling.
In your slurry of thoughts, you hadnât even realized the tight feeling growing in your chest. Instinctually, you tried to place a hand over your heart and â pain, your wrist. Heaving in deep breaths, it felt as if your lungs couldnât handle functioning properly.
And your skin - everything felt too hot. You shuffled forward on the couch until you were closer to the floor, dropping to your knees as you tore at your sweatshirt with one hand. It was only halfway zipped up, barely draped over your shoulders, and just so so so hot - were you dripping with sweat?
Could Bucky hear as you called out for him? God, what if he just changed his mind - you were a mess, this wasnât the person he knew and definitely wasnât the person he asked out.
How could he be proud of you now?
You tore off your glasses as tears started to fall.
Your name, someone was saying your name.Â
Were you under water? It felt like you were under water. Your skin - hot. Your hand, your wrist â pain.Â
Boone.Â
You collapsed further, bracing yourself on the rug with your free hand. It was strangely soft under your palm. Buckyâs apartment had a soft rug.
Bucky. Bucky was saying your name.Â
âHey, hey. Youâre okay.âÂ
He sounded close, so close. You blinked through your tears and saw he had dropped down beside you on the floor.Â
âSweetheart, can I - can I touch you? Is that okay?â
You nodded, peeking your head up to look at him. Everything was blurry.Â
Slowly, he reached out and pressed one hand against your chest, firm. The other was running up and down your back. You listened to him carefully as he talked you through whatever this episode was, breathing in tandem as he applied just enough pressure to your chest and shoulders to really ground you beside him.Â
He spoke your name, trying to keep your attention. âTalk to me, please.â
âBucky - I..â You closed your eyes, sparing a moment to breathe at his pace. His hand pressed against your chest didnât let up but he helped you lean back against the couch. âIâm scared.. Boone, he.. What if.. My hand..â
âI promise youâre never going to see him again.â
âNo, no. Iâm not..â Another deep breath. Your heart rate seemed to steady. âIâm not scared of seeing him. I want to.. I want to break his jaw or.. I wasnât strong enough to even try..â You lifted your arm, tight in the cast and sling. âI wonât even be able to do that. He â I fucked up my hand and I - how can I even do my job or write anything or hold anything or even text? And I - Iâve never had surgery before and Iâm - Iâm scared something will go wrong and I wonât get to join the med team and I - How can I..â You could feel yourself starting to hyperventilate. âHe kept yelling at me to fight back.. Fight back and-and prove myself! I should have â I should have just walked away, I should haveââ
You couldnât quite remember how the shift happened - but you were soon back on the couch, gently turned towards Bucky as he wrapped his arm around you. Time seemed to disappear as you cried into the crook of his shoulder.Â
Maybe it wasnât the most comfortable position as your hand pulsed in pain, but the close feeling, the touch of Bucky, the heat radiating from him - the combination soothed you.Â
Bucky seemed to sense the exact moment your heart rate returned back to normal, as he very gently nudged you away just enough to peer down at you. He reached for your glasses and secured them back to where they belonged then offered you a soft smile.
âI donât want to, uh, invalidate your feelings,â Bucky started then quickly paused. âChrist, I sound like Steve.â
That made you laugh.
âBut youâve gotta know that the doctor who's going to fix your hand will do a damn good job and while maybe youâll have to take some time off work, youâll be able to adapt until you fully heal. I promise.â He shifted and grabbed your available hand. âAnd surgery can be scary but Iâll be there the whole time and wait for you after, okay?â
âYouâll do that?â
Bucky seemed to falter after another moment. âOnly if you want me, I donât want to assumeââ
âNo, no. I do. I just..â You let out a slow breath. âI.. Iâm really grateful to be right here, with you. Iâm glad you didnât leave my apartment earlier, even when I was pushing you out.â
Now he had a chance to laugh. âYeah, I think we both know I wasnât going anywhere, sweetheart. Now, you need to eat something. Any requests?â
Half an hour later Bucky was unpacking a delivery bag and handing you a meal and a dose of medication that you had brought home from the clinic. Admittedly, the warm food helped settle you even more and you had a feeling that youâd fall asleep quickly.
The bag hanging from Buckyâs door was full of overnight essentials, including a Stark Industries branded t-shirt and matching sweatpants. You managed to change and brush your teeth with only one hand, then found Bucky waiting for you in the hallway.
âI got my bed set up with extra pillows for you.â
You glanced into his room, then craned your neck to look back towards the living room. A lone pillow and blanket created a makeshift bed on the couch cushions.
Bucky answered the question on your mind: âIâm sleeping on the couch.â
You scrunched your face up. âNo.â
âNo?â Bucky repeated, raising an eyebrow.
âEven with extra pillows, I think there is definitely room for us both.â You stepped into his room and surveyed the space. Again, although a bit basic and free from any excess, it felt like Bucky lived there. A framed picture of him and Steve lived on his dresser. A basket of unfolded laundry sat outside his closet door. An extra pair of boots leaned up against his bedside table.Â
Bucky let out a long breath, saying your name quietly. He shook his head then motioned towards the bed. âOkay.â
It took a few moments to adjust into a position that felt comfortable enough for you. Bucky helped you rearrange some of the pillows before he very cautiously joined you in the bed, doing his best to not create any extra movement to jostle you.Â
Silence took over a few moments later, when he reached down and grabbed your left hand.Â
You squeezed his palm, speaking through a yawn. âThis isnât how I pictured us sharing a bed for the first time.â
He laughed in return, shifting against his pillow. âMe neither, doll.âÂ
Then, you heard Bucky move again. And after a sweet mumbling of goodnight, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
--
To say Bucky was reluctant to leave you alone was an understatement. But once you settled into his bed, the pain medication seemed to finally kick in and you were out like a light. He left a small note on the bedside table, near your phone, to let you know heâd be back quickly and to call for FRIDAY if you needed anything. As he slipped into the hallway, secured in a black hoodie, he glanced towards his phone.
Tonyâs message had been nondescript, but Bucky understood enough he had information about Boone. Tony insinuated earlier he was already digging into the video footage and how to proceed, but knew Bucky would want to be informed every step of the way.
Not that it mattered - Bucky already had a plan: find Boone then kill him.
Okay, no, no. Bucky couldnât kill him. Heâd never take a life like that again but⊠well, he had already considered a thousand different scenarios that left Boone to deal with the consequences of his actions.Â
Bucky cracked his neck as he got into the elevator, shooting up to Tonyâs lab. He stepped out directly into the space, following the echo of Tonyâs voice somewhere inside. Bucky found him standing behind one of his workstations, hands flying around as he swiped at the screens illuminated ahead.
Tony paused, pivoting slightly as he shuffled a few things around on his desk. He leaned towards the end of his workspace, hooked his foot on the bottom of a wheeled chair and slid it in Buckyâs direction.
âHow is she?â Tony asked, perching on the side of his workstation as Bucky sat.
Bucky shook his head. How could he even answer that? âFinally sleeping.â
âI hope they gave her the good stuff.â Tonyâs fingers tapped against the side of the desk. âYou know, Dr. Alvarez told me your girl must have a high pain tolerance given the severity of that break.â Before Bucky even had a chance to defend your non-relationship status, Tony carried on. âBut Barnes - sheâs tough, really tough. Look.â
Bucky turned his head to the screens, as a series of video captures started playing on the screen. It was footage of you - from the training gym, during all your sessions the week prior.Â
Tough didnât seem like enough. You were strategic and resilient and smart. Sure, maybe you needed to work on your pace and Bucky could certainly give you some pointers when it came to aim, he was still impressed.
âHereâs the thing.â Tony paused the footage. âWhen this incident happenedâ listen, I know incident isnât the right word here. But when it happened, someone retroactively cut out some security footage.â He shifted his hand and tapped the screen again. âI just recovered it. And I am looking into how that imbecile managed to bypass the admin code for the security logs.â
âDid you watch it?â Bucky held his breath, tearing his eyes from the screen back towards Tony who shook his head.Â
âNot yet.â
Bucky flicked his hand to the screen, to signal for Tony to show him. Bucky stood from his chair and crossed his arms once the video started.
As he watched, the anger flared up in Bucky almost instantly. Just seeing you alone with Boone in the gym made his stomach drop but when Boone shoved you down, Bucky growled.
The footage didnât have any audio, though Bucky had a feeling that if he could also hear whatever Boone had been shouting at you, heâd be trashing Tonyâs lab just to deal with his frustration.Â
At first, everything seemed normal enough. Bucky sucked in a breath when Boone pulled off your glasses. His fist clenched tightly when Boone pushed you down to your knees. When Booneâs hand touched your headâŠ
âGood for her,â Tony muttered out when you quickly started to fight back.Â
When Boone escalated things though - as your face dragged against the mat, as he pulled at your arms, how he followed up as you tried to crawl away, as he clearly shouted and stomped his feet down on your hand, Bucky couldnât help but boil over. He let out another growl and grabbed a nearby stool, snapping it over his knee.
He dropped the wooden shards to the ground, apologizing to Tony before requesting he turn off the video.
âListen,â Tony raised his hands, as if to forgive Bucky for the outburst. âI canât put Pepper through the PR nightmare if you kill this guy.â
âIâm not going to..â Bucky sucked in a breath. Well, he wasnât going to speak in absolutes or promises. He could barely see past the red in his eyes, there was no point in lying.
Tony let out a small yelp. âOh, hold on. Letâs..â He dropped back down onto a rolling chair and moved towards one of his computer screens. âFRIDAY, letâs pull up the last 6th months of data for Agent Nathan Boone. Every swipe in, hour worked, blah blah blah. You know the drill.â
Bucky tried to follow Tonyâs thought process, crossing his arms as he watched the screens compile different information.
âWhen does he usually go to the gym?â Tony asked, swiping ahead of him as he scanned over the data.
FRIDAYâs lilt echoed above them. âAgent Boone, on average, visits the gym every day he is on schedule. He first enters usually between 6 and 6:07AM.â
Tony nodded. âOkay, and when was the last time we did diagnostics on the gym security system?â
âWell, boss, this system doesnât require regular diagnostics due to the software protection.â
âRight. Then it sounds like weâre due.â Tony shot a glance over his shoulder to meet Buckyâs gaze. âLetâs run it in the morning, around 6AM. Full system shut down - including cameras - for half an hour?â
Bucky grunted. âMake it an hour.â
--
 Following his visit to Tonyâs lab, which actually concluded with sharing a glass of whiskey, Bucky made a plan.Â
He returned to his apartment and bed, where he luckily found you still sleeping soundly. When you both stirred awake a few hours later, just shy of sunrise, Bucky encouraged you to stay in bed while he hit the gym.
You barely argued as your eyes fluttered shut again, wincing only slightly as you adjusted on the bed. Bucky promised to return with breakfast when he was done.
Then, he headed to the gym. He discovered easily how effective a piece of paper could be at deterring people from entering. One well placed âClosed for cleaningâ sign and a locked door kept anyone else from accessing the space after Bucky watched Boone enter.
A thousand scenarios flashed through Buckyâs mind when he saw Boone. On top of the flood of thoughts he wrestled with all night long, Bucky was simply itching to rearrange Booneâs entire dumb fucking face.
But, no. No. He had a plan.
Bucky rolled his head slightly, cracked his knuckles, then headed towards the weight area. It wasnât hard to find Boone, given he was the only other person in the space. That and he was already proving himself obnoxious - blasting music from his phone instead of using headphones.
âBoone.â Bucky approached slowly. Boone looked up as he did, shifting slightly as he sat on the bench and giving Bucky a small nod.
âWhatâs up, Sarge?â Boone replied. âI guess you and I are the only early birds today. Usually a few more in here. Though with some of these new recruits, I guess Iâm not surprised they donât give a shit about training.
Bucky sucked in a breath before motioning to the weight rack behind Boone as he set up a bench press. âYou need a spot?â
Boone shrugged. âSure.â
âThis your warm up?â Bucky smirked, tapping against the plates resting on the bar. âYouâve gotta be doing more than that these days. Cap told me heâs been impressed by your bulking.â
Boone let out a stiff laugh. âI hit a new max rep last week, actually. I realize thatâs nothing compared to you and Cap .â
âCâmon then.â Bucky leaned forward and slapped Booneâs shoulder. âLetâs see what you can do.â
Boone stood up on impact, skepticism evident on his face before he sat again. But, he didnât falter. âSure.â
Bucky walked over to the weight rack and grabbed two additional heavy plates, sliding them on as Boone laid down and got into position.Â
âSpeaking of new recruits.â Bucky bristled as he tried to make convincing small talk with Boone and his dumb fucking face. If Boone thought it was out of character, he didnât mention it. âHowâd training go last week?â
Boone laughed, stretching his arms up to brace the bar. âYeah, it went fine. Most of them passed. Thatâs on par with the recent cohorts. Usually one or two bail out.â
âOh yeah?â Bucky crossed his arms, doing everything in his power to reign himself in.Â
âMakes sense. Most people arenât ready - some will never beââ Boone pressed upwards, inhaling a sharp breath as he lifted the bar.
âToo much?â Bucky took half a step backwards.
âNo, no.â Boone carried on, barely moving the bar up off the rack. âIâve got it.â His arms fully extended, as the weight bar swayed slightly between his arms before he positioned it back in place.
Bucky returned to the weight rack and grabbed two more plates. âNice. You got more in you?â
Boone hesitated, looking backwards to meet Buckyâs gaze. He nodded. âAbsolutely.â
Once the new weights were settled, Bucky stood above him again.Â
âHey.â Bucky closed his eyes, moving to the side of the bench to peer down at Boone. Bucky said your name. âShe was training with you last week, right?â
Boone froze momentarily then blinked. âUh, yeah. I remember her.â
âBetween you and me - howâd she do?â Bucky rested his hands underneath the bar, temporarily alleviating some of the weight as Boone pressed upwards again. âDo you think she was ready?â
Boone closed his eyes to focus on his lift. âBetween you and me,â he echoed to Bucky. âThat dumb broad will never be ready.â
A searing heat coursed through Bucky as he released his hands, stepping back as the overweight bar slammed down on Booneâs chest. Boone roared out in pain, whimpering as the entire barbell rolled down onto his throat. As his arms flailed at his side, trying and failing to push it away, Boone tried to call out for Buckyâs help.
Though his anger remained, watching Boone struggle was still enjoyable. And although Bucky would have been happy to see the barbell crush Booneâs windpipe, he eventually did step forward and reach for the weights.
With his left arm, Bucky removed the bar and threw the entire thing to the side. With his right hand, he yanked Boone up off the bench onto his feet.
âDid you forget how to spot me? The fuck?â Boone shouted, eyes widening as he rubbed at his throat. He swung his arm forward and pushed against Buckyâs chest. âI could have fuckingââ
Bucky snarled, shoving Boone back the same way - sending him into the rack holding the weights. Boone bounced off the structure and tumbled to the side, wincing in pain as Bucky stalked after him. âWhy donât you fight back?â
âBarnes, youâre out of your mind. What the fuckââ
âFight back.â Bucky advanced closer, looming over Boone as he scuttled backwards on the floor. âProve yourself.â It was clear to Bucky that reference hit Boone directly. Although he couldnât bring himself to snap back, Booneâs face grew red. An extra bead of sweat dripped down from his forehead, as he pressed against the wall.
Bucky crouched down, grabbing Booneâs jaw between his metal fingers. âWhat the fuck is wrong with you, huh?â Bucky said your name slowly. Booneâs eyes briefly widened. âWhat do you get out of beating up an agent?âÂ
âI didnâtââ Boone tried to shake his head. âIs she your little girlfriend or something? Listen, I wouldnât have â I didnât know she â What did she sayââ
âIt doesnât fucking matter if sheâs anyone girlfriend, you piece of shit.â Bucky grabbed him by the throat and pulled him back up to his feet, sparing a moment to spit in Booneâs face before he made his next move. Bucky dropped his hand and took one step back, stretching his arms ahead of himself before letting out a growl. âFight back, Agent Boone. Prove. Yourself.â
--
Despite your nicely medicated sleep in Buckyâs bed, you were tired. And talking to a lawyer and Pepper and HR and a member of the NYPD police, Officer Reyes, about the entire situation again definitely contributed to your exhaustion.Â
You were even on your second coffee but it didnât seem to be helping. Bucky was practically holding you up as he sat at your side. You were in the medical wing at the tower, going through everything you needed before surgery. It had been scheduled quickly - probably at Tonyâs request, given his relationship with Dr. Alvarez. And although you didnât really want to think about the gravity of having surgery, you couldnât help but look forward to the healing process. You wanted this all to be over already.
âThatâs everything we need. Youâre prepared for tomorrow. Start fasting at midnight!âÂ
You thanked your coworker, Jillian, for being a wonderful nurse and securing you back into your sling. Bucky helped you to stand, giving you a once over to make sure you were okay.Â
Bucky had been quiet all morning. That wasnât particularly out of character, but he seemed tense. You didnât always see every side of him as friends and now with all this - things were shifting. You didnât mind it, though. You welcomed it, especially after waking up in his bed and relishing in the sense of security that he was at your side.
âHey Bucky?â You stopped him once you were outside the doors, heading in the direction of the elevators.Â
He immediately frowned, searching your face as he turned to face you. âAre you okay?â
âYes.â You offered him a reassuring smile. âBut are you?â
âDonât worry about me, sweetheart.â
You rolled your eyes, extending your good hand to grab his. âIf you can worry about me, you must know I worry about you too. Canât help it.â
Bucky cracked a reluctant smile. âOkay. Well, try not to worry about me right now then, okay? Youâve got enough on your plate.â
Before you could hit him back with another defensive rebuttal, you were interrupted by your name being called down the hallway. It was Pepper and Officer Reyes, again.
You drew in a hard breath, relaxing a tiny bit when you felt Bucky squeeze your hand. He hadnât let go, and it seemed he didnât plan to. When the officer asked to speak with you, Bucky took the lead and guided you into the nearest consultation room to have the conversation privately.
Pepper opted to wait outside but Bucky joined you, arms crossed in front of the door while you sat opposite the officer.
You really liked Officer Reyes. She was patient, direct, and took her job very seriously. And right now, that meant dealing with Boone.
âJust to give you a fair update,â she started, folding her hands together on top of the table. âWe had the arrest warrant prepared and although he swiped in for work and into the gym this morning, we actually found Nathan Boone at his apartment downtown. He came willingly. In fact, it seemed he was waiting for us. Heâs been charged with assault in the third degree and youâll be happy to know he pled guilty.âÂ
You sat back in your chair, a sense of relief flooding through you. Although you knew there was video footage and physical proof of Booneâs attack, you still had doubts the judicial system would work in your favour.Â
âSo, is that it?â You asked cautiously.Â
Reyes nodded. âFrom you? Pretty much.â She tipped her head sideways briefly, considering. âI shouldnât mention this, but given the circumstances, it must be some sort of karmic payback. Nathan Boone was in bad shape when we found him - the guy will probably need some medical attention himself. We asked him about his injuries but he had nothing to say. Fell down the stairs, so he says.â
âBad shape?â You couldnât help but ask. You didnât have any sympathy for Boone but the curiosity surfaced.Â
âI have a feeling heâll have to squeeze in some x-rays and a visit to a dental surgeon in between his court dates.â Reyes stood and offered her hand, giving you a small smile. âIâll be in touch if we have any loose ends.â
After she left, you remained in your chair, quiet for a moment before you motioned for Bucky to sit. He was sitting after one swift stride, locking eyes with you.
You started slowly. âI meant to ask. How was your workout this morning?â
Bucky was straight faced, matching your pose across the table. âGood.âÂ
âNothing else to share?â You pressed, raising an eyebrow.Â
âI always like to have a plan when I go to the gym and this morning, I did exactly what I planned on doing.â
You nodded then leaned back in your chair. You knew you could ask exactly what you wanted and he'd tell you the truth. But maybe it was better left unsaid. If you didnât ask, he didnât have to explain himself either. But, that didnât make the entire thing any less of an internal debate.
Why did you care even a little tiny bit about Boone being injured?Â
It wasnât even about Boone.Â
It was about someone inflicting pain on your behalf. But, wait. Then again â was there any chance Boone was feeling guilty for his actions? Fueled by his fucked up testosterone levels and short fuse? Why did you have to wrestle with your conscience when he didnât show even an ounce of remorse for what he did?Â
If Bucky had chosen to defend you, to wrestle with Boone instead⊠Well, maybe that was what needed to happen.Â
You remained in a staring contest with Bucky, searching his face for anything. You could see something just behind his lips, a desire to say something else. Maybe he was worried he would upset you with the whole truth about what happened at the gym. If that was the case, you also knew Bucky wouldnât apologize for what he might have done to Boone.
Bucky was strong willed. He stood up for what he believed in. Heâd never want to see injustice or unfair behaviour being excused.Â
You sighed then nodded again. âOkay.â
âOkay?â Bucky repeated slowly, tilting his head. âSweetheart, Iââ
âNo. Itâs okay.â You cracked a small smile. âBucky, Iâthank you. For last night and for not leaving my side and taking care of me, protecting me.. for everything.â
He said your name quietly, reaching across the table for your free hand. âItâs an honour.â
You sucked in a breath, blinking away the feeling of crying again. âDonât do that â donât be cheesy. I wonât survive.â
Bucky just smiled.
--
Somehow an hour long surgery seemed like a lifetime to Bucky. He glanced at his phone to check the time again and let out a long breath, slumping down just a bit further in his chair. Despite your exhaustion, you had barely slept the night before and Bucky felt helpless, even with all his efforts to calm your nerves.
âIâm a nurse, Bucky. Iâve helped so many patients before and after surgeries and Iâm still just â I want this to be over.â
Bucky knew you were okay, in the best hands Tony could pay for, but he was still desperate to see you roll back down the hallway, safe and sound.
After another chance to take some breaths and repeat a few of his safe mantras, Bucky looked at his phone. Instead of seeing the time, he saw âSam Wilsonâ popping up on his phone.
It had been a very easy task for Bucky - ignoring Sam for the past 48 hours. It was petty, childish even, but he still didnât want to talk to Sam. Bucky was still sitting in an uncomfortable swell of anger over the whole situation. A situation that could be traced right back to Sam, in a way.
Bucky closed his eyes and finally brought the phone up to his ear when Sam called back again. He stood from his chair and started down the empty hallway.
âThis is Sergeant Barnes.â
Sam immediately scoffed on the other end of the line. âThanks for finally picking up.â
Bucky just grunted. âWhat do you want?â
âI want you to say out loud whatâs bothering you so we can move past this.âÂ
Silence fell between them before Bucky finally replied again. âYou put him in charge, Sam.â
âI have a lot of fucking regrets about that, Bucky.â
Bucky couldnât help but wince when he heard Sam swear. In the field, Sam certainly had a mouth at times. But during the day to day operations of the job, back in the office, he was usually well restrained. Clearly, he was out of sorts, too.
âAnd I heard someone already went and put Boone in his place. There is only so much I can apologize for when that jackass cheated the system and misled me. Boone broke my trust and I can get over that. But I am fucking gutted I broke her trust. This never should have happened. I know that.â
âI know you know. I..â Bucky closed his eyes, pausing to rest against the nearest wall. Eventually, he left out a quiet laugh. âI donât know what to do with my leftover anger, Sam.â
âYou and me both, man. At least you got to crack him in the jaw a few times. Wish I could have been there.â
Bucky sighed. âIâll tell you all about it in great detail. I owe you a beer, alright?â
âWhenever youâre ready to leave your girl's side, pencil me in.â
After he hung up with Sam, then exchanged a few messages with Steve, Bucky resumed his position of waiting for you outside the entrance to the surgical suites. He tried distracting himself with a few reports he had to go over and listened to a few tracks on a new playlist from Natasha. Eventually though, all he could do was stare at the door and be patient.
Soon enough, a nurse appeared at the door and signaled to Bucky he could come through. He was directed to a recovery area and finally, he could feel his shoulders relax. There you were - safe and sound.Â
Bucky pulled up a chair beside your hospital bed, greeting you with a smile as you looked towards him.Â
âBucky!â
âHey doll.âÂ
âSheâs still coming back from the general anesthesia. She might be a bit out of sorts still,â the nurse confirmed, giving you another once over. âThe doctor said everything went well and the office will be in touch about follow up appointments.â The nurse paused, giving Bucky a coy smile as she walked away. âShe immediately asked for you when she started coming to - Sergeant Handsome.â
âI said that was a private nickname,â you whined, closing your eyes tightly. You tried to push yourself up slightly to sit, but were quickly stopped by your immobilized arm. âOw.â
âLet me help,â Bucky stood up and adjusted the bed so you could sit up more.Â
You turned to look towards him. âHi.â
âHi.â Bucky scooted his chair closer and sat again. âYou feelinâ okay?â
You nodded. âJust a lilâfroggy.. Foggy..â
âSo, Sergeant Handsome? Were you talkinâ about me?â Bucky couldnât help the smile on his face as you closed your eyes. Though it fell just as quickly when you frowned. âWhatâs wrong?â
âCan I - can I tell you a secret?â You kept your eyes closed, letting out a slow exhale as you settled against the pillows propping you up.Â
âSure, doll.â
âActually, no, no.â Your eyes shot open, narrowing again as you locked eyes with Bucky. âThis hasta be a secret exchange.â
âA secret exchange?â
You licked your lips then used your good hand to point at him. âYou tell me one first, then I tell you one. Itâs fair.â
âI mean, you started this whole thing,â he laughed, then decided it was probably best to play along. The medication was clearly still making you a bit loopy and the last thing Bucky wanted to do was upset you any further in this state. âOkay. Letâs see.â He paused again then shrugged. âI met my nephew a few weeks ago.â
âBucky! Oh, oh wow. Thatâs..â You reached for his closest hand and he met you in the middle. You squeezed his fingers but didnât let go after. âIâm gonna cry - Iâm so happy for you. When I.. Iâm back to normal, I wanna hear all about it. Okay?â
âI canât wait to tell you, sweetheart.â Bucky cradled your hand in his, rubbing his thumb against your skin. âNow, itâs your turn.â
You sucked in a breath and closed your eyes once more. âIâm.. Iâm really sad we arenât gonna have our date.â
Bucky raised an eyebrow. âWho said we arenât having our date?â
âWeâre supposâta celebrate my new position and..â You shook your head. âLookâat me now.. No new job and-and a broken whateverââ You tried to move your casted arm and just winced, which quickly transformed into a yawn. âWho wants to date this..â
Bucky released your hand from his and leaned forward, bringing his palm up to cup your cheek. Exhaustion seemed to catch up with you as you fell back asleep. âI promise weâre going on that date.âÂ
--
The first few days following your surgery were painful, as you probably should have anticipated. You insisted Bucky didnât need to stay at your side the whole time - in fact, you knew he had work to do and an upcoming mission to plan for. Thankfully you had a few close friends in rotation who kept you company throughout your days and somehow an endless supply of credit with your favourite food delivery app, making your life a lot easier. (You assumed you had Tony to thank for that.)
You and Bucky still talked all day long. That made dealing with the pain a lot easier, too.
You: are you doing anything after work? You: if youâre free You: you could come over? Bucky: be there by 7 :)
âItâs going to leave quite the scar, unfortunately.â Your check up with Dr. Alvarez had downgraded you to a removable splint, which you were really relieved about. You were perfectly capable of handling the care yourself and it was nice to release the pressure on your hand.
You had taken the splint off to show Bucky when he showed up. You were sitting beside him on your small loveseat, catching up about your last few days. He was holding your hand gently in his own, tracing his finger lightly over your skin.Â
Somehow, by some weird trick of your mind, it seemed like the pain had already become easier to tolerate. Like Buckyâs touch was helping settle your nerves and discomfort.
âTony has this thing⊠it could help with that,â Bucky finally responded, his voice barely audible. âThe scarring. I donât know how it works but it can build synthetic tissue and..â
You smiled when Bucky looked back up at you. âYeah, maybe.â It was clear Bucky was holding something back but you didnât want to press. âOkay, I have a confession. I invited you here because I need help with something.â
He nodded. âSure. Whatever you need. What is it?â
It was another unconventional first for you and Bucky and your new whatever relationship status. You had visions of a sexy steamed bathroom, shared laughter and maybe slippery hands and low moans and⊠This wasnât how your first shower together was supposed to go.
You chewed on your lip as you tried to figure out the logistics. You had a semi-normal shower the other day, but it had been incredibly difficult if not impossible to get any soap or shampoo where it needed to go with an immobilized arm. Even now, without the splint, you barely had any range of motion in your hand. Plus you were supposed to be taking it easy.
âOkay, so. LetâsâŠâ You turned towards the shower then back towards Bucky, who was standing only a few inches from you - thanks to your tiny New York City apartment bathroom. âIâll be in the shower. Uhm, naked. Then when I need soap or shampoo or⊠whatever, Iâll stick my good hand out and you can give it to me.â
Bucky stifled his laughter. âSure. I can⊠give you whatever you need, doll.â
âBucky,â you whined, doing your best not to laugh along with him. âDonât, please. I know this is weird.â
âIâm sorry,â he immediately sobered up. âIâll, just..â He turned to face the door, away from you, as you stripped down and got into the shower. âTell me when I should turn around?â
It wasnât a very graceful process but it worked. Bucky was very polite and helpful with everything you needed. Truthfully, it would have been better to have him in the shower with you but you just werenât there yet. Beyond sleeping side by side and cuddling on the couch, nothing further had happened between you. And well, that was expected - given everything. But your stupid injury really was getting in the way.
âOkay, just, uhm - my towel?â You turned off the water and reached out, feeling the fluffy fabric right away. You did your best to wrap it around your body then drew the curtain open again. Bucky was waiting for you, eyes closed tightly but with an extended hand to help you step carefully over the tub.Â
âThank you,â you said quietly. âYou can open your eyes - Iâm covered.â
âFeel better?â He asked as he opened his eyes, offering you one of those soft, sweet Bucky looks you were coming to really appreciate and love.Â
God, you didnât want to fuck this up.Â
âHere, let me..â Bucky took your injured hand and carefully fixed your splint back into place. Then, well, he filled in the small space between you both.Â
You sucked in a breath as he positioned his forehead against yours, beads of water and condensation sticking to his skin. âThank you,â you repeated, though you wondered if it was even audible.
He kept one hand safely holding your injured wrist while his other found a spot on your hip. He whispered your name with just enough inflexion for you to understand his unspoken question. As soon as you tipped your head into a nod, his hand left your hip and was encompassing the side of your neck, thumb running against your jawline.
Your tongue swept across your lips. â Yes.â
Buckyâs lips met yours, gentle and rough and exactly what you imagined kissing Bucky might be like. A bolt of electricity surged through you, across every nerve. It was the perfect balm to forget about your wrist, about uncertainty, about anything but Bucky.
--
Although you knew you were returning to work on a modified schedule and task list, you had still been nervous about it. Especially because you didnât know what everyone else knew about Boone and you and what had happened. But luckily you were welcomed back to cheerful coworkers and a very light workload.
And no one mentioned Boone or your injury. You did have to catch on newly updated mandatory company wide training though, directly related to substance abuse and security protocols.Â
You got used to working with only one hand, which would still be the case for a few more weeks. But otherwise, things felt okay. And by the time your meal break rolled around, you couldnât help but feel giddy about being back at the tower. Because you had a lunch date with your boyfriend.
Your boyfriend Bucky Barnes.Â
Not that having lunch with Bucky was new, but now it felt like so much more. Every single milestone in your relationship so far had been abnormal but this - this was perfectly ordinary. Although calling him your boyfriend still felt a little foreign on your tongue, you didnât mind that change.Â
When you spotted Bucky in the cafeteria, your knees nearly gave out altogether. You couldnât help but grin when he stood to greet you, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand. With the other he pulled you in for a hug, followed by a kiss on the forehead.
âHi,â you said, using your freehand to brush against some of the petals. âThis is unexpected.â
Bucky smiled, taking the seat across from you. âI was going to hand deliver them down to the med floor but I figured you might be a bit overwhelmed this morning. And maybe Sergeant Handsome would distract you from important work.â
You rolled your eyes, though it was impossible to hide your giddiness and fight off your warm cheeks. âYouâve gotta let that one go, please.â
âAbsolutely not.â Bucky shook his head, still smiling. God, would you two ever stop smiling? There was something incredibly comforting about knowing Bucky was feeling just as wild as you were when it came to all these kinds of feelings.
Ever since he kissed you - when you were sopping wet and injured and a mess, all wrapped up into a towel - things had just been heightened. Not that everything had been smooth sailing, especially when it came to your pain and this recovery process, but going through all of it with Bucky was exactly what you needed.
Every time you struggled or hit a new roadblock, he let you have a moment to react then he simply cheered you through it. âYou can do hard things,â he would echo back to you time and time again. (Which was particularly annoying sometimes, like when you were on your first official date and couldnât twirl your pasta very well.)
As you were approaching the end of your lunch break, sharing a dessert with Bucky, you sighed. âCan I just say something out loud?âÂ
Bucky nodded. âOf course.â
âI justâŠâ You reached to adjust your glasses as you found your words. â..canât help but think about how right now I should be preparing to be on the field team and maybe even going out on missions to help and.. Iâm just disappointed.âÂ
Bucky put down his fork, churning through his own thoughts before he replied.
You continued. âI mean, I guess thereâs no way of knowing if I would have even passed the evaluation though. Seeing as I never even⊠itâs likely I might not have been ready. Maybe Iâll never be ready for it now. I have to start from scratch with thisââ You held up your wrist. âI canât even do the boring parts of my regular job with one hand. I have to do the extra boring stuff instead. I.. Iâm just whining. Iâm sorry.â
âDo you have to get back right away?â Bucky asked, grabbing his phone. He sent a quick message then stood, extending his hand out for you to grab. âLet me show you something.â
Your manager had told you to âtake it easyâ your first week back, so running late from lunch probably wouldnât be a problem. So, you grabbed Buckyâs hand and followed.Â
The upper floors of the tower werenât somewhere you had ever visited before. You shot up the elevator and nearly let out a gasp when you and Bucky arrived in Tonyâs lab. It was huge - with bright lights, big windows and plenty of flashing screens.Â
âStark?â Bucky called out, keeping his hand tethered to yours as he guided you through the space.Â
âOver here,â Tony called back, popping out from behind a screen. âItâs all loaded up. Iâve gotta run to meet Pepper and some very irritated investors but Iâve granted you full access to the video footage.â He turned towards you. âHowâs the hand?â
You tried to give him a thumbs up. You winced. âGetting there.â
âIâve got a good therapist - physical therapist, that is. No one can help this brain.â Tony tapped his temple. âIâll send you his details.âÂ
Just as quickly as you arrived, Tony departed, giving one last pointed look at Bucky before he disappeared into the elevator muttering into his wrist.Â
âSit,â Bucky instructed, pulling a chair and positioning it in front of the screen. âPlease.â
You let out a dramatic sigh before complying.Â
Bucky sat in another chair at your side, picking up a nearby tablet. With a swipe of his hand, video footage appeared on the screen ahead. It started to play.Â
It was footage of you - giving your all during your training sessions. From the sparring drills to physical challenges, you kept up and even performed better than some of the others.Â
You snuck a glance towards Bucky, who was watching the footage with what could only be described as a proud smile.Â
âYouâre resilient, sweetheart,â Bucky said quietly, turning his head. âAlthough I could offer you some tips, you woulda past Samâs eval - thereâs no doubt in my mind.â
âTips? Like what?â You couldnât help yourself from smirking. âYou wanna throw down on a gym mat?â
âPreferably a mattress, actually,â he muttered, raising an eyebrow as he paused the video. âWell, right there - you could haveââÂ
âOkay, I donât need a play by play.â You nodded and let out a slow exhale. âI get it. Iâm capable. I just have to.. get back to that.â
Bucky turned back to you again. âYouâll get there. Iâll help. I can be your personal trainer.â
âOkay.â You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. âNow, about that mattress.â
--
 ONE YEAR LATER
Three months. It had been three months since you were officially on the field medical team. The job hadnât been easy or soft - especially the first time you were dealing with bullet wounds in the middle of nowhere.Â
The med team was a tight knit group though - you had joined a new training group following many months of recovery and training and luckily found a wonderful team of colleagues. Not only that, your time supporting major Avengers missions had been an incredible, and daunting, experience.
But today, three months in, you were finally on a mission with your boyfriend. Buckyâs speciality was covert ops and most of his missions were small-scale and secretive, with only a select team of Avengers involved. But this particular mission was a bit different - with the medical team joining later as things had escalated.
After everything had settled, including a few injured civilians who were assisted and transported for further care, everyone had returned to the jets with a long flight home ahead. You found a spot on the jet with Bucky, Sam, Steve and a few others.Â
âAgent! Medical attention is needed over here.âÂ
You whipped your head around, searching for Steve and where his voice was coming from. You took a few strides forward, pausing as the jet started to take off. You found Steve sitting near the back with Bucky.
âThis man is dying of a broken heart, apparently,â Steve rolled his eyes, pushing off from his leaning position and patting Bucky on the shoulder. âGood luck.â
You just sighed but couldnât help smiling. You grabbed Steveâs arm before he got too far away. âWant me to clean that up?â You pointed to a small cut near his hairline.
Steve waved his hand. âThank you but itâll be fine by morning.â He gave you another smirk before heading to sit with Sam in the cockpit.
âWhatâs wrong with you, Sergeant Handsome?â You smiled at Bucky as you stood in front of him.
He reached out to place his hands on your hips, slotting you just between his legs as he sat. âTwo hours with you and not even a kiss yet.â
âOh my god,â you swatted his shoulder. âI was helping people. Your knives were flying all over the place. When was the optimal time for that?â
He replied with an exaggerated eye roll. âAlright, fine.â He extended his hand up to cradle your jaw, pulling you down to meet his lips.Â
âBetter?â You asked, shifting to take the seat beside him.Â
âMuch.â He nodded, turning enough to get a better look at you. âHow are you doing though? I know today isââ
âI meant what I said the other night,â you cut him off. âSeriously.â
You knew Boone was getting out of jail after serving a year, which admittedly was the best sentencing you could have hoped for. Not that it really made up for his indiscretions but you knew youâd never see him again anyway. You didnât want to waste anymore of your energy or time on him ever again.
âForgetting he exists is only one thing. You know I can make sure he actually ceases existing andââ
âBucky,â you laughed, shaking your head. âIâm good. Truly.â
You lifted your right hand to stretch your fingers, taking a moment to admire the fancy glove Tony had designed for you. It was reinforced with something that gave you even more support when out in the field. You were grateful for it, though your rehabilitation had been successful. Slowly you pulled it off your hand, pausing to stare at the lines on your skin. All that remained was an occasional ache and some fading scars.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Bucky raising his right hand and you grinned. You knocked your knuckles into his twice then wiggled your fingers at one another. Before you could pull back, Bucky gently grabbed your hand and moved it closer, pressing a soft kiss against your scarred knuckles.
Maybe you were left with a few fading scars. And maybe every single step along the way hadnât been easy.Â
But you had Bucky by your side. Bucky, who you found unintentionally, whose touch filled you with life.Â
And maybe that was all you needed.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#story: electric touch#simmer writes#simmerandcry#simmerandwrite
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The Voice of an Angel- Matt Dierkes
Part One
Pairing: Matt Dierkes x PornBlog!Reader
Cw: Smut, Masterbation (f and m), sappy freak!Matt
Word Count: 3.5k
Authorâs Note: Doing something a little different. The story seemed to work best if I wrote time in phases, so I hope it doesnât ruin itđŹ And I couldnât tell you where this idea came from. I honestly donât know if Iâve ever seen someone write something like this, but I did the best I couldâ€ïž I hope you enjoy
Tags: @xmads-omensx @dontwantthemoney @theanarchymuse95 @badomensgoodomens
Y/N | Wednesday 2:36 PM
Kicking off the floor and rolling my chair over to my computer, I plug my phone into the cord and begin transferring the audio file. I should really get a microphone for this, but Iâm still somewhat new to this⊠Yeah, I definitely need to start doing research on vamping up my equipment.
I plug my headphones into the laptop once the file was finished so I could listen back over the audio, making sure itâs suitable to be posted. I live alone, and literally just made all of these noises out loud, but I still get a little weirded out playing it without headphones and need to be able to listen to every detail, making sure there were no weird noises in the background.
Clicking on the file, my voice starts playing through. It took some time for me to get used to hearing me say certain things and make these noises, hell, it took me a good while to even hit ârecordâ when doing this, but once I got enough praise from people online, it just became routine.Â
My slightly over exaggerated moans and whimpers fill my ears, and I canât lie, I was pleased with the quality. IPhones have good microphones. It sometimes even picked up the sound of my vibrator or how wet I was based on how close I had the mic to me, and my followers always enjoy that.
After spending about twenty minutes editing out small distracting background noises, I opened Twitter and connected the file to a post, captioning it, "You know exactly how to pull these pretty sounds from me,â before hitting post and then proceeding to do the same for my tumblr blog.Â
Almost instantly, my phone starts going crazy from those who have my post notifications on, and I read every comment with a smile on my face.
It may seem weird to many people, but I truly enjoy doing this. I get to turn a common activity into a side hustle, and it pleases both guys and girls when they find my pages. And most of them are the sweetest when they reply. Theyâre usually all horny replies, but unless I post something that instigates them to degrade me, they always choose to be super sweet.
I scroll through some replies and the likes from my followers, and even some who always come back but choose not to follow me because they donât want others to know. It was nice seeing repeated faces. Like I created a space for them to feel safe to be open about something so lewd.Â
Thatâs when I got a notification from my Cash App thatâs linked to my accounts, causing a small smile to form on my face when reading the name. ThotxPleaser had been a loyal follower for a while now. Heâs following my Twitter, Tumblr, subscribed to my Patreon, and here he is again, sending me a gift.Â
ThotxPleaser- $250
Sounded beautiful as always, Angelâ€ïžÂ
I really wished that his gift had caused a bigger smile, but I knew this anonymous personâs actions too well by now. He usually gave me a sweet nickname, but today he just used my pseudonym, Angel, and it wouldnât be worrying, if he also didnât send the donation right after I posted, again. He always tried to send appreciation âwhen he had the chance,â even commenting that he was too busy sometimes and felt bad for seeing my posts so late, so it was abnormal that he was so on top of it for the third post in a row, almost as if he was waiting for my posts as a pick-me-up. I know that was cocky thinking, but heâs said before that my posts have made his day, giving me a grateful gift to prove it, so it wasnât that far off of an assumption. I just hope heâs doing okay.
Matt | Wednesday 2:59 PM
I crash into my bed with a groan. Weâre getting everything situated for tour next week and Iâve been working my ass off doing almost all the work. The boys and our team do the best that they can, but Iâm the one they run to when problems surface, and with the dates coming faster and faster, everyone is running rampant with anxiety and constantly on my ass needing help with the most obvious things. I know weâre all stressed but every part of my job other than actually getting them on that tour bus is done.Â
I told them all to give me at least the rest of the day off to unwind. Any problems that come to head today can easily be fixed tomorrow. I warned them that I was switching my phone to Do Not Disturb so even if they tried to contact me, I wonât answer.
It was a lie, though. I would never actually do that to them and hopefully they know that. I just need them to understand and leave me be for at least a few hours before I burn out. And, of course, almost right as I thought that, my phone went off.Â
With a loud groan, I turned my phone over and glared at it, trying to read what the hell the problem was now, but then my heart skipped as I read the notification.Â
AngelđÂ
You know exactly how to pull these pretty sounds from me
My breath hitched as I read it and I instantly felt blood rush to my other head. This had to mean that she finally posted a new audio clip. I instantly clicked on it, desperately needing to hear her to put me in a better mood. My fingers eagerly tap at the back of my phone as it takes a minute to load up Twitter, but when it finally does, I see the audio file and click âplayâ.Â
I shove my face into my pillow and place my phone next to my head as I let her voice and moans fill my ears. As the audio plays, I can feel myself getting harder. But I am too fucking tired to do anything about that right now. I truly just needed to hear her sweet voice in a time like this. I could listen to her for hours. It doesnât matter if itâs her talking dirty or making these sweet noises. Hell, she could start a damn podcast and talk about the weather and it would still make my day. Something about her voice always brought me out of any rut that Iâm in.Â
The audio ends and I finally look back at my phone. I debated on playing it again, just to hear her, but I figured it wouldnât hurt to show her some gratitude and appreciation.Â
I open up Cash App, using the account that wasnât under my real name, and send her a simple note. I didnât have enough energy to put too much thought into it, but she deserved something after boosting my mood. After I sent it, I closed my phone and shoved my face back into my pillow, this time with a small smile. Within minutes, I was out like a light, dreaming of what she could possibly look like, and having a chance to actually have her speak to me, just to be able to hear more of her voice.Â
Y/N | Saturday 6:23 PM
Itâs been a few days since the last donation from ThotxPleaser. I try to post a few suggestive posts a day if Iâm in the mood, and every single one was instantly liked by him, but that was it. No flirty comments, just what seemed like he was already on his phone when I posted and a simple like. I know I shouldnât worry about a random follower, but he has always been so sweet and supportive. Plus, as creepy as it may seem, I end up paying close attention to my supporters, and it was obvious that he was acting different than usual.Â
I tried pushing the worry out of my mind the best I could, not needing to stress over a damn audio blog supporter, but I couldnât help the fact that my mind wandered, thinking of what could possibly be happening in his life that he was too busy to show his usual appreciation, but still forcing him to be one of the first likes on every single post, audio or not. What could he possibly be dealing with that made him seem like he was so busy that he barely had time to do much, yet he still went out of his way to give me a hint of support? Fuck, Iâm sounding insane. Am I overthinking this so much that I truly believe this man was using my moaning audios and lewd posts as his main form of serotonin? God, I need to fix my ego. Heâs probably just losing interest and slowly weaning me off his attentionâŠOkay, Y/N, heâs a fucking follower. He doesnât care about ghosting you. Youâve never even spoken. Why are you so obsessed anyway?
I let out a groan, getting annoyed with my own thoughts. I realized that I was staring at the ceiling, worrying about someone I don't even know, so I quickly sat up and grabbed my phone, hoping that doom scrolling could help distract meâŠand make me feel less embarrassed.
I open Instagram and my eyes instantly land on the story bar. I scroll through the orange and green circles, hoping to find someone interesting, when I finally do. Matt Dierkes had a new story. I click on it and instantly giggle, seeing that, of course, it was another raccoon meme. Since this was my personal account, I liked his story and went on with doom scrolling.
After seeing only reposted memes and people living their best life, I realized this wasnât going to give me the entertainment I needed. I close the app and look at my others, before opening Tumblr. Matt was still on my mind. I always found him so cute. Iâve enjoyed Bad Omensâ music for a while now, and definitely found the boys attractive, but something about their tour manager had always caught my eye. He said whatever he wanted and enjoyed things without judgment. I really liked how unique and undeniably him he let himself be.
I try to scroll through my feed, but with him still in my mind, my fingers trailed over to the search bar and I found myself looking up another fanfiction about him.Â
After a fewâŠokay maybe a little too many one shots and short stories since I was free tonight, I landed a quiteâŠspicy story, leading me to decide this was the perfect time to create more content.Â
With the story playing in my mind like a movie, I set my phone up and hit record. I was too lazy to grab a toy, and was definitely worked up enough that I could easily get this done manual style. Lying back, I slipped my hand down my pants with his face flashing behind my eyes. In the story, he had a little more dominant energy, so I began imagining him taking what he wanted.
My breath picked up as I felt his hands sliding up my thighs, using enough pressure to keep them held to the sides. He had this almost hungry look on his face as I stared down at him. His fingers finally reached the hem of my panties before powerfully yet gracefully sliding them down, like he was teasing me, making me wait.Â
I could feel his warm calloused fingers grazing over the softness of my thighs as they trailed towards my core. I began to squirm in anticipation, desperately wanting to grab them and bring them where I needed him most, but I knew if I did, heâd find a way to punish me.Â
Finally his hand reached the apex of my thighs and I gasped as he grazed his fingers through my folds.Â
Iâm getting too desperate, I have to get this little fantasy sped up. I start circling my clit and letting out a soft whine.Â
His tongue passes through my slit before finally focusing on the bundle of nerves. My breath picks up as he perfectly laps at it, occasionally circling it with his tongue. As he adds more pressure, I can feel myself getting closer. I look down and see his face between my thighs, causing a small gasp to escape my lips. Once our eyes meet, I let out a breathy moan as my head falls back against the pillow. I canât control the noises leaving me, the sound of his tongue lapping at my wet core and the image burned into my mind of him staring up at me causing the pleasure to intensify.
As I reached my peak, my mind overwhelmed with ecstasy, I forgot where I was.Â
âMa-â I let out, before quickly gasping and covering my mouth, hoping I could play that off as a gasp of pleasure and not shock at me almost ruining my audio by saying his name. After catching my breath, I stop the recording and sit there.Â
Fuck.
Matt | Saturday 9:47 PM
The guys and I were hanging out at Noah and Jesseâs house, telling ourselves that we needed a night off to relax and leave the stress behind for a few hours. Everyoneâs mostly packed and we have at least tonight to just forget about everything, so they were all a few beers and shots in and it was getting kind of rowdy. I made sure to keep my eye on everyone to make sure they didnât do something stupid.Â
I was sitting on the couch as the rest of them either destroyed the kitchen, trying to drunkenly make snacks, or hung out in the backyard, just chatting or getting excited over revisiting places on the tour they enjoyed. I was silently watching them all, using this time to try and force some relaxation into my mind, knowing we agreed that we could take a break from work. I know I could have done this at home, but doing anything with these boys was better than doing it alone, since I could always end up hunched over in laughter at any moment.
I stare off, listening to them loudly argue over which cheese to put in a grilled cheese, and just let my mind wander over how life has been going lately. Thinking about what still needs to be done and what fun things I could try to do before I was slaving away for 3 months on tour, since even when I tried my hardest, I couldnât push the thought of work away. But then I was pulled out of my thoughts by my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw that Angel had posted a new audio. God, this is exactly what I needed right now. A small smile formed on my lips, but I quickly went back to a straight face, not wanting anyone to see and question who made me smile or find out that it was a goddamn porn blog.Â
I glanced around the room, making sure that everyoneâs attention was occupied, before sneaking my way off to the bathroom. I close and lock the door behind me and pull out my Airpods. I know the house was loud, but the thought of them hearing her voice coming from the bathroom was not something I wanted to deal with.Â
I put an Airpod in and click on the notification. Once it loaded, I pressed play on the audio. It was a short one, but it was definitely enough to put me in a better mood. Instantly, her sweet sounds filled my ear. Soft airy moans played through my Airpod and I could feel myself growing in my pants. I debated whether it was weirder to jerk off in their bathroom or to leave the bathroom with a hard on, and decided on the latter.Â
As her voice played through my headphones like a beautiful melody, I reached my hands down and pulled the waistbands of my shorts and boxers down, letting my growing cock spring free. I turned my hat around, pushing my hair back to keep it out of my face as I leaned my hips against the sink and gripping the edge with one hand. I wrapped my other hand around the base and firmly gripped it.Â
She let out soft whimpers with an occasional âFuckâ and I leaned down and let a trail of spit reach my tip, biting back a groan as I collected it and used it to slicken my movements. It was just the perfect amount of lubrication to move at the pace I needed without making any noise.Â
I brought my shirt to my teeth and closed my eyes, biting down as I fought back the noises collecting in my throat. I was close to biting through my lip and I didnât need to get a noticeable mess on my nice tee. Explaining the teeth marks in the fabric would be easy, if their drunken asses even noticed. Her breath picked up, a telltale sign she was close, and that itself caused a tightening in my stomach. I listened to her moans getting higher and higher, subconsciously pumping myself to the beats of her breath. But then, she let out a moan I had never heard before. They were usually whiney and breathless, but this time she used her full chest voice, moaning out a âMaa-â before gasping and finally letting out her usual whiney sinful moan as she came.Â
Something in my brain took that personal. It sounded too close to her moaning my name for me to prepare for the instant rush of pleasure taking over my body. I quickly cupped a hand over my tip as my eyes rolled back, my mind replaying that single sinful syllable over and over as I spilled into my fist.Â
I probably bit a hole in my shirt with how hard my teeth clenched as I forced the deep loud moan from coming out. But I didnât care. I had to hold my weight up with the sink behind me and force myself to catch my breath through my nose as the pleasure in my stomach lasted longer than it ever has before.Â
After a few moments, the feeling of my cum threatening to drip from my hand caused me to finally open my eyes and drop my shirt from my teeth as I spun around and turned on the sink. I quickly washed all the evidence down the sink and tucked myself back into my pants before looking up.
I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror, grimacing in post-nut clarity as it hit me how gross what I just did was. Not me jerking off to her, that was normal, but the fact that I had gotten so obsessed that I couldnât wait until I got home to listen and react.Â
I hung my head as I thought about how the fuck I was supposed to get through tour if I couldnât stop myself from listening to her audios, but also definitely wouldnât have a way to hide my reaction from them. I just wish I could hear her in any way other than something so erotic. That could hold me over. As long as I didnât pavlov myself into getting hard just at the sound of her.Â
I reach up and fix my cap before grabbing my phone and sending her a like and a comment.Â
ThotxPleaser- Could never find a better way to make my day, beautiful.Â
I softly laughed at myself as I sent it. I knew I was a freak. She probably thought I was a creep the way it looks like I stalk her with how fast I respond to her posts. But I couldnât care less. She brought me a happiness I couldnât explain. It wasnât the context of her posts. It was her. And I had to show my appreciation, even if I just looked like one of many horndogs in her comments and donations.Â
WaitâŠThat was it.Â
I fumble with my phone to open up Cashapp, before realizing how long Iâve been in the bathroom. I make my way back to the living room as I think of the perfect way to ask. Sitting down, I debate on the most convincing price to get her to even think of helping me out here. Tour starts Tuesday and with us all together, missing a chunk of change wonât be a problem. I go back and forth in my thoughts for a few minutes, writing and rewriting my message until I think itâs perfect. Finally, I send it and cross my fingers.Â
ThotxPleaser- $1,000
All I want is to hear your voice more. Talk about your day, how the weather is treating you, or rant about a TV show youâre watching. Iâd listen to you forever. All I ask is if youâd be willing to send me voice memos here and there to get me through my days. Name your price, sunshine.Â
TO BE CONTINUED
#matt dierkes#matt dierkes x reader#matt dierkes fanfiction#matt dierkes fic#matt dierkes smut#bad omens#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fic#bad omens smut
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I know some people argue that robin!Jason and Dick were never close post-crisis pre n52 because they only interacted a couple of times in canon and I understand that due to Dick living away when they first met they wouldn't be as close as the relationship Dick has with some of his other siblings, but I would also wish we would take in account that for all three of Jason's years, we have like 30 issues of Jason's run. That's exceedingly small. We have batman #416, we have that one moment in teen titans (i forgot the issue) of jason working with the team, and i think the ski trip we found out later about was included in the same canon*. (also, i do feel like even if you didn't know/like eachother before going on a ski trip together by the end of the ski trip this will have changed, and the picture definitely felt like they were getting along even though Jason's face in the picture was comically weird.) I'm not sure if there were other interactions shown or mentioned, but hey, 2-3/30ish isn't a bad score at all! If we're going 3/30, that's a whole tenth of Jason's robin era.
(And I'm talking about their relationship from Dick's pov since it's the one in question here but it's clear to me in Jason's run, even post-crisis, that Dick is often on his mind and important in his life (with a certain inferiority complex the little siblings of very cool people know well) with stuff like I think Batman #410 or Jason is Legends.)
And even more importantly, 30ish is extremely short for three damn years. That's ten issues per year! Do we assume that Jason was sitting on a shelf for the whole time he's not working with batman in the comics? Do we assume batman was sitting on a shelf twiddling his thumbs all that time during those three years he appears, either? It's perfectly logical to make the assumption that Bruce and Jason were still going out as goddamn Batman and Robin even when it's not shown on screen and having a relationship and interacting together even when it's not seen. In fact it's the most reasonable and logical assumption even. It's obvious Jason and Bruce's interactions extend past what was shown on screen so why wouldn't Dick and Jason? We know from Dick's relationship to his death that Dick cared about Jason. We know how much his death impacted him. Regardless of the (now retconned) terrible mess that was their relationship after Jason came back, they had a relationship, and it was good, and how deep it went is up to interpretation but it doesn't cheapen or lessen any of Dick's relationship with his other siblings to acknowledge that (like, seriously, even though some of them might view it as such in the story, dick's love isn't a prize that can only go to the one blorbo to win the competition. Personally I don't see Robin Jason being his favourite, and that's fine. Probably since, as I only have one sibling to be weird about, this is one aspect of Dick and Jason's relationship that I don't project onto them.)
There's a difference between saying "those are the only canon interactions between Dick and Robin!Jason that we know of" and saying "those are the only interactions that happened between Jason and Dick when Jason was Robin", especially if the next sentence is going to be something like "read a comic". I want to insist that I'm not saying that they have to have been super close. All I'm saying is I don't see, with the knowledge I personally have of canon and the retcons I choose to disregard (because of terrible writing), why considering that they were close wouldn't be canon compliant.
Leeway, nuance and up to interpretation stuff are fun and should matter for evaluating the level of canon compliance of your own headcanons, and I think it's especially important when trying to police other people's interpretation of canon: are you certain their interpretation is fanon and you're correcting it with the right canon, or is it a case of two headcanons clashing in the blank space between comic pages?
I just found it strange to never see it taken in account in the sometimes pretty emphatic takes I saw on the debate around their relationship, so those are my two cents on the matter. All this to say, [theatre joke in coming], when it comes to Dick and Jaybin, we could all stand to be more chill.
* btw i'm excluding dixon's nightwing year one from this conversation because I hate how it manages to shit on every one of the characters i've seen him write in it so violently and also fuck dixon, my jason comes from post-crisis not that crappy weirdo retcon.
#in terms of exact numbers my knowledge is spotty so feel free to add clarifications/details i'd missed#it's just i feel people be strangely aggressive about it in all sides of the debate#i feel like there was the belief that âdick hated jason as robin and was a dick to himâ#so people reacted by saying âno actually you're wrong they adored eachotherâ#and people then reacted to THAT by saying âboth of you are wrong in canon they didn't hate eachother but didn't really know eachotherâ#and i feel like it's more nuanced and up to interpretation#and we could all stand to be a little more chill about it#me included i'm aware i have big (projected) feelings about this tbh#and again if we could stop treating relationships romantic or platonic between two characters as a threat to their relationship to others#that would be awesome#you can attack me on my terrible humour but you can't attack me on not having a 100% encyclopedic knowledge of dc btw#I'm advocating for humility regarding one's grasp on a very very large and complex body of works when judging other's takes on it#literally don't be a dick that's nightwing's job#and jason's in brothers in blood#dc#dc comics#fandom critical#jason todd#jaybin#nightwing#discowing#batbros#jason and dick#batfam#dick grayson
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ââ âžïž + đ â
pride
t.w: suggestive language, sexual tension
there was a reason why you tried to interact as little as possible with matt, way too scared by the effect he had on you each time you two would meet.
growing up, your mother had taught you two lessons that quickly became the fundaments of your own persona:
lesson number one, if you think you have mastered something, you have not. you're just overestimating yourself, and you can't risk that when there will be judges on the other side of the plastic walls of the rink.
lesson number two, if a person has an effect on you, they have power over you. and no one should have power over you, outside of yourself.
love wasn't even an option: love was a distraction, an emotion for those who've got nothing to loose. but you had something, you had your thing, that little passion young baby had for figure skating quickly became both your best friend, and your worst enemy. well, no, technically your worst enemy was your mind, always so fucking determined to make you the best out there, the number one in every competition. there was no space for distractions, and no space for mistakes, either. your mind and eyes were fixed on one thing only: perfection.
your little ambition, unfortunately, got quite out of control and you had soon learned to see the worrying consequences of it when your grades drastically dropped. sure, you were studying. but what could a stressed out mind ever memorise?
cherry had tried to help you more than once. poor, sweet, cherry, who had to live with you every single day. you were truthfully sorry for everything you put her through, sometimes wishing you had never met her just to spare her from your toxic side.
either way, cherry's help turned out to be useless, no matter how smart the girl was, and you still needed to bring your grades up. that's how you ended up replying to matt's messages a whole day later, asking if he could actually help you with that exam you couldn't pass no matter how hard you tried. he accepted, of course, always so polite even if he looked all tough and mean on the outside. you both had decided that you would go to his place after your skating lesson - which was right after his hockey lesson - and try to at least understand where the problem laid.
useless to say, you made a mental note to yourself: you had to focus on your studies, nothing else. no matter how hard he pulled and tugged your strings, you would not cave like this.
except, you did. you fell for matt harder than you thought, and you didn't even notice.
a soft puff of air blew from your lips as you entered the arena, sitting on one of the empty seats, your gym bag slipping from your shoulders and dropping down with a thump. you grumbled, reaching down to pick it up and put it on the seat next to you before slipping your headphones on. the hockey team was almost at the end of their practice, their coach had just blown into the whistle before announcing to cool down and then head to the showers.
"sturniolo, come here," he yelled, sitting down on the bench right outside the rink. at that command your ears perked up, slightly slipping your headphones to the side of your left ear to hear better what was going on. truth was, you had fully expected for chris to head to the coach, thinking that maybe he had done yet another stupid thing, so you were definitely surprised when you saw matt gliding towards the middle-aged man, carrying his whole weight on his right leg. you observed as his left foot didn't touch completely the ground, his leg slightly bent. right behind him, chris waved his hands in order to grab your attention. you looked at him with a puzzled expression as he took off his helmet, mouthing "watch now" while discretely pointing to his brother, a smirk forming on his lips.
your gaze shifted back on matt who had taken off his helmet, running a hand through his sweaty hair as the coach touched his leg in multiple points, asking where it hurt more. you couldn't really make out what was going on exactly since he had given you his back, but the two men seemed engrossed in their conversation.
chris reached you on the benches, motioning for you to move. "scoot over, ice baby, wanna see your reaction." you muttered a confused "what?" before the boy grabbed your chin with his long fingers, turning your head back towards the rink. your breath stopped in your throat for a second as you watched matt follow his coach's instructions, slowly falling to his knees and elbows while the older man crouched down next to him, keeping a hand on his lower back as he helped him open his knees as much as possible before coming back to the initial position, instructing him to repeat the stretch for a couple times. his head hung low, his long hair covering completely his face. well, fuck.
chris' eyes didn't leave your face for a second, not even trying to hide the amused expression printed on his face while your eyes bore into his brother's figure, almost drooling at the sight.
"enjoying the little show, baby?" he chuckled at your reaction, a little flinch taking over your body as you were brought back to earth by your rather annoying friend.
"w-what?" you asked, your voice raspy and feeble. your eyes didnât leave mattâs figure for one second, your mind running miles per hour with not-so-innocent thoughts, hypnotised by the way his hips and legs moved. all of a sudden, his head shot up, his eyes straightway locking with yours. everything in that moment ceased to exist, wrapping you and matt in a bubble. he, too, looked taken aback by your presence there, his gaze slowly dropping to chrisâ fingers sinking in the soft flesh of your chin and then to his brotherâs satisfied grin. mattâs expression turned dark; if looks could hurt, chris would be grabbing his own hand in pain for how intensely matt was staring at the iron-grip his brother had on you, jealousy bubbling under his skin.Â
you cleared your throat, excusing yourself before bolting out of the arena with your bag dangling in your hand, rushing towards the locker room. as you entered, you shut the door behind you with a loud bang.
you didnât even notice cherry sitting on the bench, rolling her muscle warmers on her calf. âwhoa, what- what is happening?â asked the girl, taking in your shocked and flustered appearance. you whipped your head around, your back melting against the wall as you slowly slid down on the ground. âone of the weirdest things in my life,â and just like that you began explaining to your best friend what had happened in the span of the last ten minutes, which definitely felt like hours.Â
in the end, cherry groaned frustrated, complaining about the lack of action from both of you, rambling about how you two would never end up together if neither mustered up the courage to go talk to the other one.
âfirst of all, we do talk to each other. matter of fact, iâll go to his place after practice since chris insisted he could help me study.â cherry raised her eyebrow at that, a sceptical yet surprised look on her face. you raised your hand before she could speak further, continuing with your remarks. âand secondly, i donât want us to end up together, i ainât got the time for that.âÂ
âokay youâre fucking ridiculous,â began your friend, but before she could continue the door opened and revealed the two sturniolo brothers, their helmets and skates in hand and weird looks on their faces. as the two spotted you and cherry, they quickly raised their hand in greeting before grabbing their gym bags and heading for the showers. matt was the first to disappear, still looking pissed off. chris waited for him to go to the showers room before he muttered as silently as possible âheâs pissed cause i had my hands on you,â snickering to himself as he, too, disappeared in the other room. cherryâs jaw hung low, excitement building quickly in her. âsee!â she half-whispered, half- screamed, âi fucking told you!âÂ
âno, no,â you quickly interrupted her, jumping towards her figure to slap a hand on her mouth, trying to contain her excited blabbering. âshh, cherry, damn. get your skates, you need to burn some of this pent-up energy.â
you spent the next two hours training and training and training, trying to perfection your technique as best as you could, trying to ignore the two brothers sitting on the furthest bench of the arena, knowing that a particular set of eyes was planted on you the whole time.
âgive him a chance,â whispered cherry as you closed your bag, swinging it over your shoulder. you had finished practice a few minutes ago, and after a quick shower you were ready to head towards the brothers who were waiting for you outside. âiâm serious, baby. you donât need to be always so strict with yourself.â you smiled softly at your friend, nodding briefly before you reached the brothers who were waiting inside their car. the ride to their place wasnât uncomfortable, but not pleasant either: you could tell matt was trying to brush off the events from earlier, failing miserably. and chris - well, he did nothing to ease his brotherâs mind, constantly talking about memories he had of when you two met for the first time years ago. you really couldnât tell if he was that oblivious to his brotherâs annoyed attitude, or if he was working him up on purpose. either way, whatever his plan was was working perfectly.Â
as you reached their place, chris finally quieted down. he was the first one to jump out of the car, immediately heading towards his room.Â
matt sighed tired, running a hand on his face. âiâm sorry, i- had a long day.â you smiled sympathetically at him, feeling sorry for the poor boy who had to deal all this time with his brotherâs constant teasing. âitâs fine, i know how obnoxious chris can get. by the way, howâs your leg?â
matt groaned, shaking his head before plopping down on the couch. âapparently i pulled a muscle and it hurts like a motherfucker,â he mumbled, closing his eyes and throwing his head back on the couchâs back. you put your bag down, trying to not dwell too much on how attractive he looked like that, manspreading and confident.Â
âyou can come sit down,â he said, patting the space next to him. âjust give me five minutes so the pain subsides and weâll get to studying.â
âyeah, no itâs fine, donât worry about it. do you want some medicine? i think iâve got something in my bag.â you replied, bringing your bag with you on the couch. as you sat down next to him, you rummaged through your things to find the little pouch you used to store your medicine.Â
âno, iâm fine, itâs not the first time this has happened.â
âyou sure? iâve got a few things against the pain, i just need to find where they went-â
âbaby,â mattâs hand gently grabbed your wrist, pulling it out of your bag. your skin broke out in chills at the contact, your heart racing in your ribcage. âiâm serious, i donât need anything. thanks, though.â
you nodded, staring at his hand still neatly wrapped around your wrist, not showing any signs of wanting to let go anytime soon. he gently pulled it towards him, making you turn slowly so that you were completely facing him. you observed as his eyes fell slowly to your chin, his free hand delicately lifting your head and turning it side to side to check if your skin had any marks from chrisâ grip earlier. your breath hitched at the proximity. if you closed your eyes and focused, you were sure you could feel his breath gently fanning over your neck. you didnât dare to speak, not wanting to mutter a single word in fear of fucking everything up. your mind screamed at you to pull away, to break contact as soon as possible, but how could you when it felt so good?
a loud noise broke the spell that had you both hooked, followed by music playing softly in the background. matt groaned annoyed, pulling back slightly to mutter ââm sorry, itâs the fucking speakers, chris is probably convinced that he turned them on only in his room.â at that, you couldnât hold back a smile from creeping on your face, chuckling softly. âmay i say that i do not envy you?â
matt scoffed, an amused glint in his eyes. âyeah, well, understandable. donât even know how you bear him as your friend.â you shrugged your shoulders, a silent way of saying âit is what it is.â
matt cleared his throat, his index finger running softly on your jaw. âhe- he didnât hurt you, right?â you shook your head, instinctively shifting closer to him. you felt his breath blowing on your lips, and you observed as his eyes shifted from your jaw, to your lips, to your eyes and then to your lips again. the air all around you buzzed with electricity, the tension between you two becoming almost palpable.Â
âiâm- iâm sorry, iâŠâ you whispered, hands shaking with anticipation. you tried to stabilize your breath, wanting to gain back control over your body that seemed to respond only to mattâs actions instead of your own mind.
âdonât.â he mumbled, finally closing the space between you two. his lips found yours in a delicate and tentative kiss, but once you kissed him back there was nothing soft left. his hand cupped your cheek, bringing you impossibly closer to him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue gently brushing over your bottom lip. you whimpered quietly as his tongue grazed yours, his other hand leaving your wrist to wrap around your waist, helping you straddle him.Â
âmatt,â you moaned, fingers locking in his soft hair and pulling them gently. his lips traveled down your jaw and to your neck, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses behind. ââm sorry, angel,â he whispered on your skin, his teeth nipping and sucking and painting your neck in violet marks. âcouldnât hold back anymore,â he continued, arms wrapping even tighter around your torso. your hands stroked his cheeks, bringing him in for another kiss.Â
and while you two were busy on the couch, a song played in the background, tying everything together:
love' s gonna get you killed
but prideâs gonna be the death of you, and you and me.
© stvrnioloslvt
àŠ read other parts of this au here. asks and requests are always open!
icy taglist!:
@sofieeeeex @shadowthesim @sturnioloszn @m4ttg1rl @marrykisskilled @thecrawlys @x0x0bunny @izzylovesmatt @sturniolosweets @sturnslutz @user1smvtysturniolo @gabrielaperez11 @frankoceanfanpage @ivysturnss @watercolorskyy @bluestriips @sllutty-sturniolo @hesvoid34 @mattsturniolover @emely9274 @boomshakalaka12381238 @lovergirl4gracieabrams @sturnsrecord @joselyncsblog
#©stvrnioloslvt au[hockeyplayer!matt]#© stvrnioloslvt#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo#matt stuniolo fanfic#matt x reader#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader
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The results are in! Of 821 votes total, at 45.6% Star Trek handily wins over The Culture (27%), which handily wins over twee cottagepunk pre-industrial pastoral fantasy (15.6%). Dystopia, at 4.5%, is right about what we should expect from Lizardman's Constant, and premise-rejection is at a nice round 7.3%.
I'm not terribly surprised that people chose Star Trek over The Culture; Star Trek is a much more popular media franchise. Witness @drarunpeel's tags:
#star trek #i just find beige very comforting bc i grew up on tng #I've never read the source material for the culture though so maybe if i had I'd prefer that
Another notable set of tags:
#in culture I could live my cottagepunk pre-industrial fantasy if i wanted
That comment, from @krakenoflight, makes me wonder whether "twee cottagepunk pre-industrial pastoral fantasy" captured some votes from the two scifi options, simply because the two scifi options allow implementing the fantasy. But @queer-folk-abroad gets it:
#The culture #you get brain drugs and easy sex changes and no one is afraid of sex and if you want theyâll stick you on your twee pastoralist primitive world
Or as @andmaybegayer put it:
#oh culture for real they're immortal and you can become weird shapes
Which, well, you can do that in Star Trek, too! But not voluntarily, as @timberwind pointed out:
#star trek winning out over culture is insane #I mean I like trek but you can't go more than fifty miles in the trek universe without falling into a time warp and having to fix history #whereas life in most of culture space is so nice and unlethal that a small fraction of people regularly feel almost aggreived about it
I particularly like @sophia-epistemia's take on the Trek/Culture split:
The Culture. obviously. those options are "die horribly of a trivially curable infection", "normie life in an under-wordlbuilt '60s liberal tolerance morality tale" (unless it's modern trek and fuck that lol), and "live forever in transhumanistan" (yeah ino The Culture has a social norm against immortality; so what, real life has one against trannies and yet here i am)
but there was one response I was not expecting, and that's @earlgraytay's choice setting:
#i mean it really depends doesn't it #which version of the Federation #for starters #i usually say that i'd prefer to live in the Pokemon universe because that kind of splits the difference #you have all the modern conveniences AND the strong bond with nature #and assuming you take the series at its word it's pretty utopian? #a lot of the BLUH BLUH POKEMON UNIVERSE DYSTOPIA disk horse is very dumb because it refuses to take the series at its word #and insists that Pokemon must be being exploited because that's the only way the arguer can see humans engaging with nature #when like pokemon are meant to be like kami. they don't fuck with humans they don't like
So thanks for voting, y'all!
At a time and location of your choosing in that setting, you live as an average person. (Yes, Trekkies can be in Starfleet if they wish.) Tag and comment with your specific responses.
This question is brought to you by discussion in my family group chat, which in turn was incited by watercooler discourse in an office somewhere. The watercooler answers were utterly fascinating to me, and now I'm wondering what my neargroup thinks. The specific answers in the poll above were chosen based on a review of various Discords' responses.
#did i write this 7 hours before the polls closed? yes.#updated with fresh stats after the poll closed#poll meme#self reblog#star trek#the culture#iain banks#pokemon
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Rectify- Part 2
Law x Fem Reader
There's no shame in using a safety net to catch you when you're falling.
Warnings: direct mentions of past domestic violence, hurt/comfort, unspoken romance, fluffy ending
A/N: this is a sequel to my request fic 'Rectify'! I typed this on a whim after re-reading my own work, and after having a few really rough days recently, it was pretty cathartic to hammer this out. It's not my best fic recently, but sometimes you just need something simple.
There was a handwritten note taped to the door of your apartment.
Your feet stayed planted in front of your door as your eyes glazed over the sloppy writing over and over again. You couldnât even bite the inside of your cheek as a nervous tic, the harsh bruise still covering your jaw causing aches and pains even two weeks later. It was embarrassingly noticeable. Your friends questioned it, your professors questioned it, passersby on campus gave you strange looks. It was humiliating.
A victim of domestic abuse. Thatâs what the school psychiatrist had told you.
Humiliating.
The note was snatched from your door, the tape on the back of the paper ripping off with an obnoxious tearing sound.
Right. Law was still there.
Standing next to you, he crumpled the note with a firm scowl on his face, steely golden eyes seeming to flicker with a barely-subdued rage. In the two weeks since the incident with Bellamy, he had barely left your side. And you liked it better that way.
âPussy,â the medical student swore under his breath, his gentle hand against the small of your back a harsh contrast to his words. âCome on, letâs go inside.â
You silently nodded, blinking out of your paranoid daze and fumbling for your key in the pocket of your coat, undoing the lock and pushing the heavy door open. The apartment was still occupied by only you, with your roommate having gone home for winter break. In her absence, however, Law took over.
It seemed the two of you had formed an unconventional routine, with Law making sure to keep tabs on your mouth injury every single evening. For the first four days, he continued to supply you with an antibiotic rinse for your tongue, going out of his way to cook bland and soft foods for you to easily ingest without irritating your injury. He masterfully reduced the inflammation of your bruise and even helped you apply concealer for the first few days before you grew exhausted of the tedious ordeal (and the pain of your beauty blender being blotted over your tender jaw). He did all of this without question, without expecting any thanks or repayment, and you, likewise, didnât comment. You were afraid that if you did, the influx of tears behind your eyelids would finally spill out.
So instead of vocalizing your questions, your concerns, and the nagging confession in your mind, you insisted that Law sleep in your bed, under your sheets, with your legs tangled together and his calloused, tattooed hands planted safely on your back and waist.
âHey.â
A quiet, firm voice saying your name shook you from your thoughts. When had you been seated on your couch?
âWhat are you thinking about for dinner?â Law was washing his hands in the kitchen, peering around the doorframe to where you sat.
You shrugged. âI donât think Iâm too hungry.â
The faucet was turned off, the sound of the man drying his hands on a cloth towel following suit before he entered your living space, sitting next to you on the couch. You wasted no time crawling into his lap, resting the uninjured side of your face across his legs. His hands ghosted across your shoulder, and you couldnât see the way his eyes softened with remorse.
âI still think you should go back to the school psych again,â Law mumbled, rubbing your skin through the fabric of your shirt.
âThey wonât help me,â you replied, voice muffled thanks to your curled up position. âSheâs just gonna tell me to go somewhere different.â
âMaybe thatâs what you should do,â he added.
Those same hot tears began to sting, slipping out of your eyes and pooling across the bridge of your nose. âItâs fucking humiliating. All of this.â You balled your fist against your chest. âI donât even feel safe in my own apartment anymore. Why did I let myself get involved with that crew?â
âYou couldnât have known,â Law added. He lost count of the amount of times the two of you had this conversation in the past 14 days, but that didnât matter to him. Heâd tell you as many times as you needed to hear it- none of what transpired was your fault.
âAll he did was hit me once and yet Iâm a mess because of it.â
Lawâs jaw clenched. âDoesnât matter how many times. He hurt you.â
âButââ
âNo âbutsâ,â Lawâs firm voice refuted, shutting down your protests. âYou were hurt, end of story. Youâre not accounting for the emotional abuse he put you through, the words and comments.â
âI hate that word,â you uttered. âAbuse. Itâs sour.â
âIt is.â
You rolled onto your back, gazing through your teary eyes at Law, who gazed down on you with nothing but patience and tenderness.
âDonât you ever get sick of me acting like this?â you suddenly asked.
Lawâs heart skipped a beat in his chest, his throat tightening with pity at how feeble your voice sounded. âNever.â He leaned over your form slightly, tracing the backs of his inked fingers over the unblemished side of your face. âHave you ever felt sick of me when I have bad nights thinking about my dad? Have you ever thought I was annoying when Iâd come to you crying as a teenager?â
You frantically shook your head. âOf course not.â
âThen you need to believe me when I say Iâll never feel like that with you, either.â His words were level, soft yet firm, and you were left with no choice but to believe him. âDoesnât matter if he hit you once, twice, or not at all. You were hurt by him regardless, and you deserve to be able to feel the emotions that come with that. Because it was you who got hurt, no one else matters in this situation but you and your emotions.â
âI suppose so,â you said back meekly.
âAnd,â he began again. âThereâs nothing wrong with asking for help from a professional to guide you through this. I could even join if you wanted me to. Regardless, I think it would be good for you to talk to someone with more experience than me.â A small smile crawled onto his lips. âIâm really only good with physical illness.â
âNah,â you replied, your own shaky grin appearing. âYouâre patching me up on the inside just fine.â
âYou know⊠if it would help you feel saferâŠâ he suddenly blurted, anxiously averting his eyes from your tender gaze. âI wouldnât be opposed to you lodging in my dorm until all of this blows over. Or⊠longer than that, even.â
You felt your face warm up at his offer. âYou mean it?â
âHeâs leaving notes on your door. If Iâm being honest, Iâm too anxious to leave you here alone.â
Law had a justified point.
âI have a futon,â he added.
âI donât want the futon,â you stated.
Lawâs knuckles continued to stroke the side of your face, the softness of your cheeks feeling like the finest velvet over his rough skin. âWhen the school psych opens again next semester, weâll go and get you a referral.â
âAnd I can move my favorite pillows onto your bed,â you chirped with a grin, the weight of the situation finally lifting off of your shoulders, even just slightly.
âAnd Iâll start carrying around my nodachi on campusââ
âNO! I donât want you to get arrested!â you nearly shrieked, a full laugh erupting from your lungs at the thought of Lawâs obnoxiously large sword that he purchased in high school for the hell of it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to lay on the couch next to you. âJust promise you wonât leave me aloneâŠâ you mumbled shyly, voice barely above a whisper.
âThatâs the easiest promise you could ever have me make,â he replied, nuzzling his lips into your hair.
#x reader#reader insert#fem reader#one piece x reader#op x reader#trafalgar law x reader#law x reader#trafalgar d water law x reader#trafalgar d water law#trafalgar law#law oneshot
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Iâm a bit curious on Halâs personality in his depictions. From what I know is that early hal was headstrong, cocky, kind of a goofball, and detached (dissociating away his fear and averse to commitment). This seems to be the version of Hal that most people write.
But then thereâs the whole Parallax thing, and the Spectre run. I donât know much about it but it seems hal gets a lot more subdued and melancholy as the spectre. And then after that he comes back as flesh and bone.
So what is he like at the end of that?
Pre-Johns and pre-Parallax Hal tended to be more happy go lucky, stupid, and generally doe eyed hopeful "the system that fucked me over once definitely won't do it again!" type of man. He was also entitled at times. But this is mostly true up until around the time of Hard Traveling Heroes, which is when he starts to be heartbroken and melancholic, traits that persist until the climax of Emerald Twilight.
A lot of people say Emerald Twilight came from nowhere and I disagree. I think those people weren't paying attention, because all the signs were there. Hal had been steadily becoming more disillusioned and melancholic through the 70s and 80s until we get to the 90s, where that heartbreak gets amplified to the nth degree. Hal didn't go from stupid to mad with grief without a transition period in the middle. But a lot of people think once a run from x writer ends, it no longer counts for the next one, and so they say the tragedy came from nowhere.
At the very start of the 90s, Hal has a lot of suicidal ideation going on. The run itself begins with him more or less saying "Thereâs nowhere else to go" (paraphrasing) and throwing himself off a cliff. He waits until he's almost crashing head first into the ground to pull himself out of there using his ring. He's flirting with the thought of death.
He is also self sabotaging. He pulls back from everyone and turns himself into a homeless man who lives on the road because he's looking for a sense of self, a meaning to life he has lost. He becomes a seasonal worker because he needs something to do, but those jobs never last because the life he's trying to leave behind (in the shape of Guy Gardner) keeps metaphorically knocking on the door and dragging him back to Green Lantern.
Even when he comes back, he chooses to do solitary things. For example: exploring space to recruit more GLs, that keeps interactions to a minimum. It's all things that are brewing in a pressure cooker that blows up when Coast City is destroyed in front of Hal's eyes and the hero community drops the ball. Hard.
They all say well, itâs not MY city. They all say get over it. Clark goes and creates a monument using scraps of the very bomb that killed everyone and everything Hal knew all his life, and immediately after that Clark is in Metropolis enjoying the sun and saying aaaaah. what a nice day.
And Hal doesn't snap immediately. The tension is there, but at first he does try to keep it together until it becomes impossible. He tries to reconstruct Coast City, but there are limits to what the ring can do. The one thing he could depend on, his will power, is not enough. He is not enough. His grief and anger become so big that his mind just... fractures. He snaps. No one's listening and no one's helping, so he will take matters into his own hands and make. it. right.
This Hal is angry. This Hal has a heart with a hole that threatens to kill him at any moment but he endures because he cannot die until he does what needs to be done. This Hal refuses the help that comes too late, he has killed his friends, he has destroyed the corps, he has killed Sinestro. Kyle arrives like a lighthouse in the middle of the storm but for Hal it's too late because he has driven his ship into the cliff and is letting it sink with himself still in it.
He is mad at himself and mad at the world for failing Coast City and all the innocent lives lost. He almost becomes a god, and is perceived as a god by some due to the power he now possesses. There are moments when clarity hits him and the old wounded heartbroken Hal shows his face, and he is dying. His pain is so palpable. His anguish. The old Hal wants help. But Parallax Hal does not want to be saved.
Of course, the status quo changes with the events of Final Night. Hal sacrifices himself to save the Earth. He sees that only in death will his anger stop, and he sees that he's the only one who can do what no one else could do for Coast City. It's a no brainer. He sacrifices himself and burns himself to a crisp reigniting the sun. Hal doesnât expect to come back. He doesnât want to come back. This is HIS final night.
Unfortunately, The Spectre had other plans. His anger morphs into straight up depression because now he is alive enough to deal with the outcome of what he did as Parallax. He has to live with the tragedy of what he lost and the tragedy of what he did. Few people stand by his side and want to give him a chance. Very few people recognize there's good in him. Most want to see him dead and gone. He himself wants to be dead and gone. Helen, his niece, being there definitely helps him not lose it, not lose himself. She is his hope. She is the innocence he lost and he will never get back.
After all of this, he is more grounded, mature. Still melancholic. Still haunted by everything that happened. He is cocky, of course, and self assured, because at the end of the day those are the things he can cling to with some sort of safety net. But they're also things he uses to keep the raw wounds hidden.
Post Johns? Yeah like more than half of this is lost because Halâs the greatest hero ever and he can do no wrong. He is headstrong, overconfident, cocky, and ultimately good, but he is missing like half of his soul.
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