#but did mean that once I was done I didn't know where to go from there

[todayitwillrainblood]

★ kitten from a litter,

☆ masterlist!

⟲ synopsis;

sieun is [name]'s precious, and the latter would do anything to protect him. (this is very loose ended btw, i just wanted sieun to be protected by m!reader and have a make-out sesh(ish?) in the bathroom.)

★ "you(-ooh) and i-i, it's more that like (like)

what's after like?" ☆

— SIEUN HAS ALWAYS seemed fragile to [name]. someone he had to protect.

[name] has also believed that sieun was terribly incapable of holding out tasks, of any sort, really. picking a fight, cooking his meals, and even living by himself. naturally, prone to that feeling of protectiveness, [name] had started to push himself into sieun's life.

"eat more, veggies make you taller, you know!"

"c'mon! you can't just study all day, come outside for a little while."

"that's not healthy—"

"if you do that, you'll di—"

"hey! didn't i tell you to—"

"are you my mom?" sieun finally snapped. this was seriously getting out of hand now.

"that's not right!" [name] gasped, whispering right after, "we sleep toget—"

sieun shushed him with a smack, "idiot!"

he turned around, walking away with an angry huff, "i-i'm sorry!"

[name] chased after him, as one does. they made up that day, of course, i'll simply say that [name] is very good with his hands.

anyway.

today was awful, [name] barely got any sleep last night. And while he was snoozing off on his desk, he was harshly awoken by a nudge.

the uncomfortable silence present in the room told him now was not a good time to yell about it. a glance around him told him all he needed to know.

sieun was getting bullied.

oh, how could he let his love be tainted that way?

he got up and strode over to the guy whose name he didn't bother to learn.

"what are you doing?" he bumped shoulders with jeon yeong-bin while walking over to stand protectively in front of sieun.

[name] looked him up and down, and scoffed, "bullying? what are you, eleven?"

yeong-bin took a step back; pestering sieun was easy...as long as [name] wasn't there. or awake.

[name], put simply, was scary. once, he had broken the hand of a guy, back in middle school, because he had smudged bright paint all over sieun.

he had gotten a two-week suspension for that, but then broke the other hand because he came to school to find that no action had been taken against that kid.

his next month was spent at home and about 12 hours of community service.

if you ask him, he'll say it was worth it.

this was also before yeon sieun was dating him or even acknowledged him. the latter part obviously changed after that.

that was also when [name] had started to actively and directly pursue sieun. all the cheesy things, love notes, roses, even a dinner where he had to kidnap sieun because he refused to go the first five times. (no sieuns were harmed in the making of this.)

all in all, everyone and their momma was scared of [name].

yeong-bin did not want a broken hand, or hands, or any other bodily injury, so he retreated and rightfully so.

[name] sure is a menace, but you know what? in yeong-bin's eyes, sieun was too much of a pest to just let him go, and too easy, too. sieun also never would go and whine to [name], meaning he was safe as long as [name] wasn't there to see.

[name] spared one glance at sieun, then dragged his stoic self to a bathroom.

he locked the door, pulling sieun in front of one of the various sinks set up.

sieun stayed staring at [name] through the mirror, while his boyfriend washed the same hands that touched yeong-bin. admittedly, [name] was too late to wake up by the time filth had touched his precious.

[name]'s arms were around sieun, chest to back, leaning his chin on sieun's shoulder. when he was done, he placed a smooch on seiun's cheek, pulling back just slightly with a scowl.

"what?" sieun questioned him, finally turning to face [name].

"you smell like that jerk's cheap cologne." with that [name] pulled sieun into a rough kiss, biting harshly into his lips and grabbing his face.

"hmph...! slower..."

[name] kissed him feverishly, slipping in his tongue and practically eating him until lewd noises echoed in the quiet bathroom. [name] pushed sieun against a wall, his hands wandering and slipping under sieun's cotton shirt. daringly, he brushed his finger against sieun's sensitive nub, pulling out even sweeter noises.

"ah!...mmh..."

sieun coloured deeply, gazing at [name] with a hooded gaze, feeling vulnerable and melting.

they would have gone further, probably, if sieun allowed it, but the school bell ringing made both of them flinch back in shock, finally finding breath and realising the mess on themselves.

sieun, dishelved and nearly shirtless, and the various red smudges across and around [name]'s lips because of the blood on sieun's lips.

[name] looked away, flushed and embarrassed, "i'll...i'll fix you up," he mumbled, reaching over to begin buttoning up sieun's shirt.

"this is your fault."

[name] willingly nodded his head, "...yes."

sieun continued to stare at him, up, down, and around. he slumped against the wall, leaving himself to [name], like he often has grown to do. trusting him completely and utterly.

there was no reason to blame [name] completely, after all, it takes two to tango, but he enjoyed the look on his face. shy, red, and obviously aroused.

"class will st—"'

"come to my house," he snuck a glance up, "later."

"...okay." red ears and a beating heart.

thump.

a sigh and another kiss.

yours only.

[fuyuu-chan]

Hi! I saw that you were open for requests. Could I request Jinwoo and zhigang with a timid reader who sings soft heartfelt songs when they think theyre sleeping?

(Like penelope from Epic the musical. Specifically her part of Would you fall in love with me again

Heres a link of it helps: https://youtu.be/rF5tJ8xuaIc?feature=shared)

I feel like there would be a paralell between hunters and their civilan partners with Odyseus and Penelope. Like how Penelope will love Odyssus no matter what, the same way that reader will love their respective partner no matter what theyve done in the gates to live another day and come back home.

No pressure to do it, but if you decide to thank you so much!

"Would you fall in love with me again?"

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Reader & Liu Zhigang x Reader (Separate)

Warning: mentioned/implied of killing

Fuyuu-chan: Hii! Thank you for requesting, your idea was really amazing and i enjoyed writing this one! <3 Hehehe i hope i did it right and according to your expectations. I tried my best, also i don't really know much about the musical so i apologize beforehand if i did something wrong or i didn't portray it very well

✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

Sung Jinwoo:

"You look different, your eyes look tired Your frame is lighter, your smile torn Is it really you, my love?"

He came home feeling tired and a bit guilty(?), he saw how you greet him the moment he entered your shared house with that same cheerful smile. Just earlier he killed someone...a person, not a monster. 

"I am not the man you fell in love with I am not the man you once adored I am not your kind and gentle husband And I am not the love you knew before"

He felt guilty in a sense that, you love him because he was sweet, caring, innocent. Because you fell in love with him even before he was known as the strongest when he was still known as the weakest.

If you got to know whatever is happening to every dungeon he went into? Would you still love him? Or would you be scared of him and leave him?

He greets you back as he returned your embrace.

.

.

.

That night when the two of you finally laid down on the bed, he kissed you on the forehead saying goodnight as you snuggle next to him.

He closed his eyes as she hummed a lullaby. Being with her, laying next to her..its peaceful, he felt safe but yet there's still a lingering doubt, that lingering thought. But maybe he could enjoy this moment for a bit...for a while even though it may change the moment you got to know the person he had become.

.

.

.

You glance up to Jinwoo in which you saw him with his eyes closed, thinking he was sleeping you remain snuggled to him, softly singing a song that you have grown to like. Its a song with such a meaning, words that you wanted to say to Jinwoo but yet doesn't know how to, but thanks to this song you can express your feelings.

As you sang softly, you are unaware that Jinwoo was actually still awake, but he didn't let you know it yet. he simply listens and the lyrics had catch him off guard.

"I will fall in love with you over and over again I don't care how, where, or when No matter how long it's been, you're mine Don't tell me you're not the same person You're always my husband and I've been waiting, waiting"

As you sang those lines, he can't help but felt like you know what has been going through his mind, the turmoil that has been happening inside him. The doubts, the thoughts, the insecurities.

But yet here you are, uttering those words as if to answer all his doubts, to reassure him. sure, you might have just been singing a song that catch your attention but yet he felt like you are saying it to him, like you mean, like it came from your heart.

And knowing you, that is probably the case. you always sang him love songs, meaningful ones, but this one...this one is the one that he needed the most right now. Something he deeply wanted to hear from you, he haven't told you everything that is bothering him inside the dungeons, the things he did inside but yet there was a lingering thought that maybe you already knew. That you had him figured him out. Its no surprise though...you have known him long enough for you to read him like a book.

.

.

.

The next day, Jinwoo couldn't hide it any longer and admits everything. From what happened in the double dungeon, to the system and what has been happening all this time about leveling up. He was done hiding it all from you, not when you didn't question him at all about the changes that's been happening to him. You remained patient and treated him the same after all these years.

"Left a trail of red on every island As I traded friends like objects I could use Hurt more lives than I can count on my hands But all of that was to bring me back to you So tell me"

Then he told you about the things that has been happening inside the dungeons, the first time he killed a person to killing again until now. About the shadow soldiers.

You were shocked to say the least, I mean who wouldn't? What he said was beyond something you could even think about. to think he had gone through all that and kept it to himself all this time...

You were still processing all of it but you just embraced him, tight. you wanted to offer some comfort.

The fact he was the one guilty for hiding these to you, but you also felt guilty for not being there enough for him.

Jinwoo quickly returned your embrace.

"Jinwoo...all that matters to me is that...just come back home to me, safely"

And in that moment, he felt all his doubts and thoughts been washed away. He felt more relaxed, comforted, knowing that you will love him no matter what he had become. No matter what things he had done. 

As for you, Jinwoo is still Jinwoo. your beloved partner, for life. and nothing is gonna change that.

Liu Zhigang:

"I know that you've been waiting, waiting for love"

Liu came home after a long day in the dungeons, since he was a national level hunter, all the high rank gates was the one he handles a lot in China except for the gates that his guild covers of course.

You came up to him and greets him with an excited smile. "Welcome back"

He came closer to you and pulls you in a hug, tighter than usual. You didn't question it instead wrapping your arms around him to reciprocate and pats his back gently.

Silence fell over the two of you until Liu spoke up. "Would you still love me again?" he uttered.

.

.

.

An hour ago before he went home, he just finished raiding the last dungeon for the day, as expected after he exited there were quite some few paparazzi waiting for him outside.

'How annoying' he thought. 'Here are these paparazzi again, when will they mind their own business?'

He walked away, ignoring the flashing cameras and how the paparazzi are following him. He was just about to lose them when one of them spoke up and mentioned your name.

That person asked him questions if he will continue his relationship with you, if he is sure he wanted to be with just a normal person, a civilian. And even went as far as saying someone like you doesn't deserve him as he was basically the second strongest in the world and a national level hunter, that Liu should be someone deserving, someone who could stand beside him on equal footing.

And that was the biggest mistake they had ever done in life. As that moment was how they finally got on Liu's nerve, his last straw. Saying things like that about his beloved partner in front of his face, was a very bold move. And the consequences about it should have been considered by that person.

Liu took them all down in a matter of seconds, no matter if only one person was the only one who says that because the fact that the others was there, they must have been saying things like that too about you. And he wouldn't let it go.

.

.

.

You pulled away just a little bit to look at his face. "Why would you suddenly ask that? You know the answer to that"

Liu looks at your expression. Your soft expression was there but with a tinge of surprise, he did ask it out of nowhere and without context.

"Come on, you must be just tired" you said as you kissed his forehead and led him to the living room. "I'll go serve you your favorite meal I cooked-'

Before you could even take a step away Liu took a hold of your wrist and pulled you down with him on the sofa.

"Please just stay with me here" he mumbles as he wraps his arms around you.

.

.

.

A few minutes passed since Liu "trapped" you with him on the sofa as he rests his head on your lap. You gently run your hand through his hair as you started humming.

His eyes was closed but he is not really asleep. You didn't seemed to notice as you starts singing softly.

"I will fall in love with you over and over again I don't care how, where, or when No matter how long it's been, you're mine Don't tell me you're not the same person You're always my husband and I've been waiting, waiting"

You gaze at his "sleeping" form as you sang the lines quietly but enough for him to hear you.

He listened to you sing, it was soothing. Your voice makes him calm but what caught his attention was the lyrics you were singing.

He was not familiar with the song. But .... it felt like you were talking to him through the song. Are you singing this as to answer the question he asked to you earlier?

Because it definitely felt like it. You would usually sang his favorite songs but this one .... its new for him. But he had a feeling this one would become one of his favorite ones too. because this song, the lines you said, it reassured him.

He had an idea that you probably might have known what he did, but its not surprising as you have known him for years now, and the bond you share ... it was something extraordinary that one of you doesn't need to voice your thoughts for the other to know what you are feeling or thinking. But he had a feeling you still wanted to know what happened from him.

For now, he want to bask in your presence. On how you play with his hair as you continue to sing.

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Please do not copy, translate, repost to any other social media, Thank you.

[xoluvx]

places where you and rue had sex:

❥ under the bleachers: she'd asked you to meet her there. you'd done so apprehensively. you weren't necessarily back on speaking terms since you found out she wasn't sober anymore. you tilted your head as you watched her with your arms crossed. she was speaking rapidly, hands flailing, apologies spewing from her lips. her really pretty lips that you missed so much. you found yourself wound in her web once again and before you knew it, your hands were in her hair and her hands were busy unbuttoning your jeans. her fingers were soon occupied with your pussy. neither of you caring that literally anyone could walk out and see you getting fingered in broad daylight.

❥ in an empty classroom: this one was a wild card. one you never thought would happen. though you did think about it often. you thought about her bending you over your desk. you thought about her planting your lap on the hard surface, opening your legs, eating you out. you thought of your hands tangled in her hair and your moans bouncing off the walls. so color yourself surprised when all of that happened. giggling and stumbling bodies. groans and pants and gasps and constant glances at the door. you didn't have to dream about it anymore.

❥ on fez's couch: you were drunk. fez's house was the only place you could go to without getting in trouble. he was very clear about not doing anything nasty on his couch but that was quite literally impossible when your bodies were squished on the small thing. your noses were clashing with every kiss and you were so intoxicated that every touch, every sigh, sent tingles down your spine. she was only tipsy. you'd been mad she was drinking and you don't know why you thought getting shitfaced was going to be good payback. anyway, you both ended up here and you practically begged her to fuck you (silently). she let you use her thigh to get off.

❥ in fez's car: i mean this one is pretty self-explanatory. read more if you dare.

❥ in a random's backyard: they had a couch in the backyard.. of course you were going to use it. unlike the time on fez's couch, you were both sober so the decision really couldn't be justified or explained away. you needed air; physically, metaphorically. you were making out, tongues tussling as you climbed onto her lap. she slid her hands under your skirt and palmed your clothed pussy. you moaned into her mouth, grinding your hips against her palm. she could feel your seeping through the fabric and uttered her own moans of sexual frustration. you begged her to insert her fingers and she did so gladly, eyes wide when you glided on her digits holding on to her shoulders. you were so wet, she could almost hear you sloshing on her fingers even though the music was blasting. you tossed your head back chanting her name as you used her fingers for your own dirty selfish pleasure.

requested by @starinsunset ❥₊ ⊹

[thefirstlioveyou]

The State of Mike's Safety & What He Needs in S5

a part of s5 is gonna be them finally realizing they need mike. i mean, it makes sense. you have a character who feels like nobody needs him. wouldn't he need to discover that everyone needs him? in order to believe he is needed by everyone, he needs to see it for himself and not just from a single person's words.

and if it's true that he is needed by everyone like will, the duffers, and shawn levy claim, who we have no reason not to believe, then wouldn't whoever "everyone" is need to have a plot changing moment where they all collectively realize that? as of right now, he still flies right over their head. something major needs to happen for them to finally realize he has been the key this whole time. they need to lose him in some way. it's kinda like how you never know what you have until it's gone or it's almost too late.

with people still doubting mike being in danger.... why on earth wouldn't vecna take away the one thing that makes them all fall apart?

the show's literally spoiling s5 right in front of our eyes. the twist is in our face. they lost. they fell apart and were always bound to lose no matter what. why? because they lost the heart (mike). it's why mike keeps getting mentioned for NO reason in plots that don't even concern him. the answer is right in their face but the characters keep missing it.

when vecna tells el "you have already lost," it only makes me think that he had already done something that solidified his win a long time ago [side-eyes that damn vine]

s3 kept bashing the audience over the head through weird ass dialogue and blocking that mike's important. he is key. he is also "flayed." s4 just bashes you over the head even more that it's almost too late for mike, much similar to how it was for max.

now, this shot is incredibly important. nancy hugs jonathan instead of hugging mike. the show wants us to notice the flaw in this.

i think after what we saw in the bts video, one of nancy's priorities next season will be connecting with family, especially mike.

one of the points of mike in s1 was that nobody knew anything about him because they didn't put the effort to. he wasn't a concern to them until government was involved and they didn't know where he was. he was invisible until he was actually "missing" momentarily.

his mom didn't fight for answers the way she did for nancy the whole season. nancy didn't know where he could've been because they don't talk and she's clearly embarrassed to admit that. she proposes they never hide anything again but that doesn't last long. karen doesn't say anything about the scab on mike's chin when all it'd take is a line or two to write in that acknowledges it. even EL noticed it and asked. meanwhile, without hesitation, karen asks nancy about the sweater she was wearing with full concern. then the infamous cliff scene just. it never happened. he's never even thanked in any capacity for it and all the credit turns to el. a 12 year old boy stepped, not jumped, stepped off a cliff. he didn't bother begging or fighting for an alternative. he just accepted it. totally normal scene, right? and it just never gets mentioned.

karen refuses to go to mike herself. she expects him to come, but mike isn't gonna do that. there's a reason why we never see him actually open up with her and only hugs her, the same way jonathan and joyce only hug but never actually talk about what actually needs to be talked about. karen and nancy don't ever hug once the whole show because the love karen has for her is shown through her actual actions and efforts.

this "he'll come to us when he's ready" bullshit is the opposite of what season 4 was trying to say with max. waiting for someone to come ain't gonna work, at least not in this universe. it just ends up horribly.

they need to look harder.

there needs to be someone fighting for him.

it's been so clear what the show is trying to do with mike since the beginning. he is constantly shown to be running out of time or being late just like vecna's victims. he is invisible up until he's in danger, just like max. karen waits for him the way lucas waited for max, and he learns from it. the "i just tripped" excuse from vecna's victims ties directly back to mike. so if you think about it, in a way, mike's been living in his own version of vecna's curse the entire show. it's just a slowburn version of it and nobody's noticing. that's why they lost.

if they say we are coming back in a circle, then that only means mike has to finally be visible to them now. he has to be one of their concerns. they need to care and be given a reason to. we are finally gonna see into his head again, and likely more than we ever have before. finn's also already confirmed s5 will dive more into his mental health.

the last 20 minutes of s4 is basically screaming at you how screwed mike is, but it's also a line up of the people who are likely the ones gonna be fighting for him. he gets a personal scene with his mom, who tells him he is staying right there. it matters that he's there. he has his scene with hopper. nancy tells jonathan she's glad he was with mike (and adds on will as an after thought. interesting writing choice there. they're doing too much to single him out this entire ending bit).

we're even shown that will is the light in mike's life, the same way mike and will's family was will's light in s2 during his possession. will is drowning in sunlight while mike's sits right at the edge of it.

they need to reach out to mike. mike needs to be fought for in some way next season rather than him only fighting for someone else again, which only feeds into his toxic cycle. if he saves someone, he's needed. but that's not it. that's not how it should be. that is the same logic that holds him down. he was confronted with a dying el and max again in s4, paralleling s1. the pressure was on him to get to her fight and do something, or else she'd die... again... because he failed (in his eyes).

and i'm not saying mike won't be a hero - he definitely will be. he will get his moment. i'd like to think the love he'll receive will fuel his will to fight back and win against something finally. but first, he must find worth in his own life in order to do that. he needs to realize he himself is worth fighting for.

mike is clearly a target next season and has been since the start. thinking the antagonist has nothing to do with the main character... respectfully cope harder. as if it wasn't both nancy and mike's best friends who went missing. as if holly wasn't moments away from being snatched by a demogorgon. as if karen didn't have a moment with a flayed!billy. as if it isn't mike that is vecna's "friend" and him that wasn't grabbed a vine we have never seen before. as if it isn't nancy who vecna chose to give his message to. is mike really just there to sit there and look pretty and be perfectly safe to some of y'all? that makes sense to some people??

it is obvious it's max, then it's mike. they aren't even being discreet about it.

so all in all, mike needs to be valued and loved next season. and clearly, that's what the writers want you to do as well.

"but he's been a complete jerk!! he needs to earn this by apologizing first!! they shouldn't be doing this first."

ok let's think for a second why they're doing that in this order because it is odd. why is mike being met with so much love, care and concern before we even get an understanding of why he's been the way he's been? why are they making us worry about mike? why is it almost like he's getting a pass? why are they working backwards?

it's simple. if they're trying to get you to gather sympathy for this boy before a proper """redemption arc""" or apology, before getting a single glimpse into his pov, all while wholeheartedly saying he's the heart despite the last 2 seasons failing to give him the chance to be that... it's only because they know something that we don't. there's a massive plot twist regarding him that's gonna recontextualize everything.

this is another big reason why i think it's very likely possessiongate may actually be real. the way they're setting it up like this makes it seem like mike never did anything at all. when a character messes up in this show, it does not go this way. you don't seem them get rewarded with a painting that tells them how great of a person they are. there is something very off about the way this is being structured if mike is truly at fault.

-

tags (i'm gonna assume the likes were also yes' 😭):

@itswhatyougive @apocalyptic-byler @lazylama9 @beepingmemesauce2727 @gimmiecandy @will-teehee @girly-eldritch-screeching @lemons-woo-yeah @bylerposting @luhvtan875 @thecharliechip @80syaoi @ivermyri @my-coven-is-claudia @bulionzkury @heroesbyler @directorfinnwolfhard

[scribephoenixwriting]

Bob Reynolds Character analysis: Ever The Void, once more The Sentry.

After Thunderbolts* I read every major Sentry comic to get a better feel for the character and to see what aspects were adapted well. He's cool. He's terrifying, tragic, and beautiful. But also, he's never written consistently, which means he's always changing.

I'm going to run through all his major appearances here and piece together a picture of his psyche, back to front. This will include some very polarized characterization that I intend to make sense of, so a bit of it is headcanon, but MOST of it is textual.

We are introduced to Bob Reynolds in Sentry Volume 1 from 2000. There was some marketing stuff regarding him being a Stan Lee character but I'm not going to get into that right now.

As a young man, Bob Reynolds discovers the professors formula and becomes the Sentry! With the power of a million exploding suns, he'll stop evil when he sees it and protect the innocent. Bob is introduced as an ideal hero who has been forgotten by the modern age. He knew the x-men, spider-man, and could pacify the hulk. Sentry #1-6, his crossovers, and Sentry Vs The Void make up this original arc, its a mystery. Robert must find out why the world forgot one of their greatest heroes before the void returns and destroys them all.

This mini-series establishes a lot of key concepts. Rob is an addict struggling with his mental health. The void is a part of him. He knows everybody. He is the best of them. I think the most important thing here is the fact that he was forgotten. Sentry and Void's dynamics are explored further much later.

Sentry, a hero that always swoops in at the nick of time, someone that we can all rely on, is showing cracks. He's slipping, his sanity is questioned all throughout. The serum is synonymous with drug abuse, the sentry is the high, and the void are the lows. There is intervention imagery present, where the avengers tell him to stop being the sentry, and in some ways, Bob feels betrayed by this.

Bob has been positioned as a kind of linchpin for other heroes, someone they can always rely on. When the truth comes out; The void IS the sentry, they don't comfort or help him. The void is simply too dangerous, so they must simply forget him.

I think this is the tragedy that gets less attention. Yes, its sad that you must be forgotten by everyone, even yourself, but to me, the sadder thing is why.

It is far easier for the world to forget about Bob than it is for the world to fight his darkness. The void's rampage could kill millions, so its not like you can exactly fault Reed for it, but ultimately, being forgotten is synonymous with deeming Bob a lost cause, no matter the good he's done. In order for the memory loss to work, the avengers must brand him as a traitor to the public, so they want to forget him. Even if the truth is different, even if people remember him, they'll only see him as a junkie who betrayed the side of good.

The Sentry has done unquantifiable good for the world, he always saved the heroes in the nick of time, but when it comes time for someone to save Bob, to help him with his issues, they abandon him once more. Its worth noting that Bob, Sentry, and Void are all the same person, so the feelings of one can be seen in some ways as the subconscious feelings of the other. Even though it was necessary, on some levels, Bob did see this as a kind of betrayal.

In order to stop the Void, he agrees to go away again, to be forgotten by the public once more and go back to his life as Bob the nut. He woke up in the middle of the night, certain that The void would return, he gathered his friends together, and they couldn't fight it with him.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to come back,"

A man struggling with his mental health has reached out to his friends after a long time of substance abuse. He asks them to help him fight the darkness within, but they can't. They just can't. So he has to go away. Bob has burdened them. His burdens are far too great for them to bear. He's sorry for coming back into their lives as if it was his fault.

It isn't your fault, Bob.

New Avengers 2004! A group of super-heroes are caught amidst a super-villain prison break. In this prison, tucked away in a solitary cell, is none other than the Sentry himself. (Notice that he's still in costume?)

They fight off all they can, but when attacked by Carnage, they start losing. Suddenly, Sentry leaves his cell and defends our heroes.

In a moment of weakness, Bob pulls the "Tear him in half" gambit to great success. To Bob, this might as well be a relapse, so immediately after, he runs away.

Since his wife's death, he's sworn to never become the Sentry again. He's happy to punish himself forever if it means keeping people safe. However, the avengers find him and finally they HELP HIM!!!!!. Emma Frost helps him past his mental block and helps him regain control of his own psyche. No more forgetting, not anymore.

Bob still has issues, but previously he'd been stuck in a loop of returning, then forcing the world to forget him with his own psychic powers. Breaking this loop is like Bob finally reaching out for real. He's trying to stay in other peoples lives again. As such, the real return of the sentry isn't an enigmatic figure flying into space and tearing someone to pieces. Its heroic and beautiful.

At this point, Iron man is in Bobs corner quite consistently. He lets Bob set up on top of avengers tower, he supports him, he advocates for him. This makes sense given Tony's history as an alcoholic.

Finally, things are looking up for Bob. The avengers are helping him, and Lindy is alive!

Poor Lindy. Turns out she's not dead. She won't be. Not ever. For now, its a mystery why she's alive, presumed to have died either during the original mini series or sometime after. Eventually we'll find out.

Lindy and Tony act as (as far as I can tell) Bob and Sentry's main friends. Lindy is Bob's wife, she keeps him human. Iron man is Sentry's colleague, he keeps him good. I wonder what would happen if either of these two were removed from the picture. Hmm. Anyway.

After New Avengers 1-10 (2004), Bob gets his own Mini: Sentry Vol. 2 (2005).

Sentry Vol. 2 is all about Sentry and the Void. Bob is working around the clock, second to second, to save as many lives as he physically can at all times. He has little time for Lindy. He has only minutes a day for therapy, and he has the Void locked in his basement.

Except... he doesn't. The Sentry isn't in control. In fact, we learn towards the end of this Mini that these personas Bob has are essentially reactions to himself. When he drank the Golden Serum to get high, he became the void first. This is his self-hatred, his disappointment, and his anger at the world given the power of a million exploding suns.

The Void is the "Real" Bob, and the Sentry is his guilt, an unstoppable force that will make up for the Void's evil and fight him back at every turn. Bob goes into his basement every night to berate himself (The Void) in the mirror to make himself feel better. The most powerful superhero on the planet is a coping mechanism for Bob's self-disgust.

And this tracks. C.L.O.C., his personal assistant computer... thing... is programmed to always tell him who he needs to save next. Every second of every day is spent flying to disasters and swooping in, just like he used to. This is heroic, sure, but its also a punishment. No life. No wife. No fun. Go to the other side of the planet or people die. No breaks.

Sentry must spend every second of his existence making up for Bob's failure as a human being. Bob wants to be a better man, but he doesn't believe he's a good person, and he especially doesn't believe he's worthy of the power he has. When Bob realizes that Sentry is essentially just a reaction to his own guilt, he tries to kill the void.

And yeah. Big gay kiss. The Void is all of Bob's ugliness personified, and Bob knows that the Sentry is a high he's constantly chasing. He loves that power, but he knows how pathetic that is, so the Void adores the Sentry.

And here, the Void is making a good point. Bob can't stand himself. His addictions, his flaws, his schizophrenia, his agoraphobia. He hates them, despite being part of him, so he tries to kill them over and over and over again to no avail. His guilt prevents him from ever forgiving himself. The Sentry will always fight the Void and Bob will never have the chance to heal.

I'll continue this analysis in another post. I've got a lot more, but there's a limit on images I can attach.

Next up: Civil War, The Mighty Avengers, and World War Hulk.

[bookshelfdreams]

Hi, we're very new mutuals (ravelry tumblrinas) but I have a couple of questions about yesterday's Chancellor fiasco, if you have time/spoons/inclination to answer.

1. How's the general mood, afterwards? Like, "finally, about damn time they got their shit together", "well, we have a government, but At What Cost" or something more optimistic?

2. How likely is it that the people who didn't vote for him the first time but did the second were trying to make a point/make him sweat?

3. Is there now a vague timer in the back of people's minds counting down to everything going tits up sooner rather than later?

Like, a couple of years ago we had a similar issue with our government here in the UK that was an absolute drawn out debacle, and while I know very little about German politics other than AfD = bad, I'm curious if it's playing out in a similar way, where the politicians are all "we promise to provide a stable government and everything, pinky swear", while in the background they've got their own version of the ides of March going on and the rats are rapidly abandoning the sinking ship.

Hi @gaiahenshin, wonderful to meet you again :) I do feel inclined to answer, but I'm not that deep in the politics game, so take everything I say with a grain of salt <3

1: Pretty much everyone is in agreement that this was humiliating for Merz. The more conservative media outlets seem to have taken the stance that our democracy functioned as intended and nothing really happened, which is true to an extend and also the most positive spin you can put on this debacle. However. It needs to be stressed that this has never happened before on a federal level. Electing the party leader and candidate for chancellor of course can come with all sorts of intra-party squabbles, but once that's done, the party usually unites behind the figurehead. This evidently did not happen here. There's really no way to interpret this other than Merz not having the full support of his party - and the new term has just started! If he doesn't have his guys under control now, how do you think this is gonna look 3 years from now?

Nobody really likes Friedrich Merz. He was no one's first choice, this was the third time he tried to get the party lead and chancellor candidacy, and it only worked because there was literally nobody else. He's a provocateur and a bigot, which served him well as leader of the opposition but also means that if you're in Germany, and you're anything but a white, cishet, well-off, western man over 50, he has probably said or done something to offend you, personally.

He also has absolutely 0 experience in government. He has never been a minister on the state or federal level, he has never even been mayor somewhere. He spent the better part of the last 20 years making millions at Blackrock, and his ministries are staffed by more (former) CEOs and lobbyists than I personally am comfortable with. Some people who already did spectacularly shit jobs in government are back in the front row. All this has probably lead to some resentment in his own faction.

Plus he needed to go make nice with the Left (that's our leftwing party, literally called The Left) and the Greens so he could get a second vote in early. That must have stung and I am sure there are some people in the Union (that's his party) who did not like seeing that at all.

It's not apocalyptic by any means, and I personally enjoy Merz getting public slaps to the face, but I do think it's indicative of him being not nearly as secure in his position as I would like a chancellor to be.

2: Very likely, I would think. Of course the elections are anonymous, so there's really no way to know who voted against him, and why. Everyone from the Social Democrats (coalition partner to Merz) who was asked said they they didn't think it was any of them. Merz, otoh, said he didn't want to look into who the defectors are. Which is smart if they were mainly from his own party, making that public (or people coming forward!) would make him look even weaker. So. Make of that what you will.

(Also, there are a few people from the opposition who have stated they did vote for him, most prominently my guy Bodo Ramelow (Left, lmao), so it's likely that he was still missing more than 3 votes the second round)

3: Hm. I don't think so, no. Nobody likes instability, except for the far right idiots, and they have bigger problems to worry about right now. This new government will do its best to make life harder for a lot of people (our new minister of the interior has already instructed border police to reject asylum seekers. This is illegal, but of course Alex Ausländermaut Dobrindt doesn't care). This is really gonna suck and do further damage to the world, but adding petty infighting will help no one. And most people in both parties are aware of that. Most of them are actually seasoned, pragmatic and reasonable politicians who know what it means to have responsibility in government. I can't believe there's wide-spread interest in destabilization.

But then again, in these batshit times, who knows! We'll have to wait and see.

Thank you for asking <3 Hope you're having a lovely day despite everything

[waughymommy]

Chapter 9: New Sensation

The fluorescent lights of the grocery store buzzed overhead as Emily steered our cart toward the produce section. The scent of citrus and ripe bananas momentarily distracted me from the sterile smell of the doctor's office still lingering in my mind. I trailed behind Emily, lost in thought, grappling with the morning’s revelations. Within a week things had gone from a semi-drunken impulsive act to being a passive bystander as my wife discussed diapering options with my doctor.

I followed her through the aisles as she grabbed the basics. Bread. Some steaks. Salad materials. She talked to herself under her breath, calling out brands and prices, but it flowed in one ear and out the other as I followed her with the cart. Why had I done this? Why had I wet the bed not once, not twice, but three times? I mean, who does that? Who does that on purpose? And then talk to the doctor, as if I had no idea why my bed suddenly had a yellow spot? And now it was on my permanent record, the doctor having notes that my wife was talking to him about diapers. Why would I allow myself to be in that position? I didn't want Emily to think less of me. I really didn't want Emily to leave me, even if she did seem surprisingly supportive about all this. What could I do to fix this and make her realize it was all just a mistake? A one time- no, three time- accident that surely wouldn't happen again? Why had I thought 'accidents' were a good idea at the time? And did it really only take three bedwetting episodes before she was openly talking to the doctor about diapers for me?

"Greg?" Emily's voice cut through my thoughts like a lifeline. Her eyes held a mix of concern and determination as she gestured toward a towering shelf of adult diapers. "I think we should get some for you."

I was standing in front of a display. A display of diapers. A display of adult diapers. A display of adult diapers with pictures of smiling people on them. The harsh lighting on the bright packages contrasted with the faint smell of baby powder as I looked around, trying to figure out how I had teleported here without realizing where I was.

Emily paused, seeing that I needed a moment to re-enter reality from the far away place I had been, her gaze fixed on a towering display of diapers. Her hand gently brushed my back, a silent reassurance. "I think we should get some diapers for you."

Her words were gentle yet firm, leaving no room for argument. I glanced around, half-expecting her suggestion to echo through the store like an announcement over the PA system. But it was just us, standing in front of the wall of brightly colored packages.

I felt my throat tighten, the words catching in my throat. "But..." I stammered. It wasn't so much that I didn't want to be doing this, it was that I didn't want to be doing it here, now. "But..." I sputtered again.

"Look, honey. " Emily's hand rested gently on my back, her voice calm and steady. "When Abby had problems we encouraged her to handle it responsibly, like an adult, right?"

I nodded slowly... this wasn't an argument that I was going to win. Really, it wasn't an argument to begin with.

"So which diapers do you want to try first? I know Sarah said that the store-bought options weren't very good, but until I can order something better let's see how these work for you, OK?"

I looked at the options, a dizzying kaleidoscope of brightly colored packages.. The seemingly happy men, wearing gray underwear, adorned the front of the packages on the top shelves. The bottom shelves had store brands, some looking like baby diapers. Actual diapers. Like I wore when I was smaller. My eyes lingered there, but from what Emily had said about how she had handled Abby’s wetting, I was sure she’d expect me to try the pullups first. I took a package off the top of the rack and hurriedly put it in the cart. The green package said small/medium and night-something. The middle-aged guy looked confident and happy to be standing there in absorbent underwear. I wondered if he knew something that I didn’t.

"So you want to try the pull-ups?" Emily turned over a package of pull-ups, scrutinizing the size guide with a critical eye. Her finger traced a line. “These might be too big,” she mused, her tone practical yet caring. She looked at the shelves, turning a few other packages over.

I nervously tried to move the cart onwards, eager to get out of here, but without stopping her examination of the options she reached back and stopped the cart. She shrugged. "They didn't really work very well for Emily, and these might be too big for you, but sure, let's try them. I don't see anything smaller for adults, unless you like pink..." She looked at me, her eyebrow raised and a half-smile on her face as she held out the small-sized women's version of the package I had chosen, a smiling woman modeling the pink underwear on the pink package.

"No," I said, my voice a little too sharp, my gaze avoiding hers. I felt my chest tighten, the heat creeping up my neck. Emily didn't say anything, her hand gently sliding across my back as she reached for the package I had chosen. As I turned away and pushed the cart onward Emily replaced the pink package on the shelf and caught up, taking my arm. She leaned down to give me a little peck on the cheek and put her hand on mine, letting me know everything was going to be OK.

As we approached the checkout, Emily paused, her hand gently resting on my shoulder. "Do you need to use the restroom, honey? I'll handle the cart while I pay," she offered, her voice a soothing balm against my frayed nerves. Her touch was reassuring, grounding me in the moment. My heart raced—not just from the embarrassment of buying diapers but from the vulnerability of being so exposed. Yet, Emily’s understanding gaze and the warmth of her hand on my back made me realize that maybe this wasn't as bad as it seemed.

I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, I think I will." Relief washed over me as I slipped away from the cart, leaving Emily to navigate the checkout line alone. The thought of reliving childhood memories - standing in line with my mother as she placed a box of "Extra Large Size Baby Pants" on the conveyor belt - was too much to bear. I loved Emily for her strength and support, even if she seemed to be embracing this new dynamic between us with a bit too much enthusiasm.

A few minutes later, I met Emily back at the cart. She had already paid, the cart full of brown paper bags, except for a bright green package that sat prominently on top. My heart skipped a beat. "Couldn't he have put those in a paper bag too?" I muttered to her as the sliding door opened, letting us out into the bright sunshine, which only served to light up the green bag like a beacon.

"Bags are ten cents apiece, Greg, and," she emphasized, "And MY FATHER doesn't care." She gave me a sly wink, "Now, you try and argue with a man who's been selling diapers for thirty years." I rolled my eyes. I appreciated the attempt, but my emotional ability to deal with this was pretty much exhausted. As we walked to the car, Emily, sensing my discomfort, gently took my hand. "It's okay, honey. You'll get used to it. And besides, you’ll look so handsome in your new diapers." She kissed me softly on the cheek. Her smile was reassuring, but there was a glint in her eye that hinted at something more.

As we entered the house, the weight of the green package in my hands felt heavier than it should. Emily busied herself with putting away the groceries, her movements efficient and practiced, a stark contrast to my own awkward fumbling with the pull-ups. "Why don't you take those upstairs and... get familiar with them? You know, just in case." Emily suggested, her voice gentle but firm. "Maybe put them in the nightstand in Abby's room for now." I nodded, grateful for the direction but dreading the task.

As I climbed the stairs, each step felt like an admission of defeat. I entered Abby's room, the familiar surroundings now tinged with a new purpose. I opened the nightstand drawer, hesitating before placing the package inside. I didn't need to "familiarize" myself with them. That time would come soon enough.

Later, as I stood at the sink, brushing my teeth, I felt Emily’s presence behind me. Her hand rested gently on my back, her fingertips brushing the waistband of my pajama pants. "Are you going to put one on?" she asked, her voice soft and playful. "The pull-up, I mean. I think it's time."

"Ah, yes, after I finish brushing my teeth," I replied.

"Okay." She hugged me again and then left me to finish my ablutions, heading to the toilet. I spit, washed my mouth out, and washed my face. I trudged back to Abby's room. The bag was sitting on the bed where it had been since this evening when Emily had pulled it from it's hiding place, studiously being ignored every time I walked past the door. Its presence told me not only that Emily expected me to wear one of these, but she expected me to do it on that bed. It wasn't a ticket back into her bed. Yet. I sighed.

I opened the bag and pulled one out. It was much thinner than I expected. Though Abby had used them, I'd never really paid attention to hers; Emily had always handled that part. I had stayed out of it. Now, it was my turn. Stepping out of my pants, I slipped it on. It felt like it was barely there and rustled quietly when I moved. Sliding my pajama bottoms on, I could barely tell there was anything there at all.

As I climbed into bed, the crinkling of the sheets masked the faint rustle of the pull-up beneath my pajama pants. It wasn't uncomfortable. I wondered if I should use it tonight? Would it be too soon? I was thinking about what I could, or should, do when Emily entered. She glanced at the open bag and then at me. "Yes, honey, I put one on." I rolled my eyes as hard as the previous occupant of the room had.

"How does it fit?" She came over and sat down next to me on the bed, pulling the sheet back to expose my midsection.

"It's OK. I guess."

"Can I see?"

I hesitated, my cheeks flushing. It was one thing to wear a diaper, but quite another to have Emily inspect it. But she already knew what I was wearing. With a sigh I lifted myself slightly and pulled down my pajamas to reveal pullup beneath. Her fingers were gentle as she examined the fit, her touch a mix of concern and fascination.

"It's pretty loose. You're at the minimum of the waist range, so we'll see if it works..." She was thoughtful as she poked, prodded, pulled, and cupped.

"Well, with any luck we won't need to find out, right?" I asked. I mean I knew it was up to me, after all, even if she didn't.

"Sure, honey," she replied softly. "But if it does happen, no big deal—we'll find something that works for you." She leaned over and kissed me lovingly on the lips before pulling the sheet over me and turning out the light.

I felt relaxed. I wasn't back in our marital bed yet, but at least Emily was talking to me. More than talking to me. I realized it had been a long time since we had had such personal and meaningful conversations. I also realized I hadn't even had a beer today. That was probably for the best. Soon I was in dreamland.

[too-tired-omg]

Hands I'd recognise

Jegulus minific. WC: 936

TW: major character death, suicided thoughts? (Implied), angst no comfort (kinda)

(It's my first fic, I have no idea what I'm doing)

James knew he shouldn't have done it.

Sirius told him. Lily told him. Remus told him. He had told him. Kinda.

But he could just... not.

After Regulus disappeared, everything seemed so dull. True, they were broken up. True, he had chosen them instead of him. But also true, he couldn't stop loving him just like that.

And so, in a desperate attempt of keeping him close, James convinced Sirius to go back with him to Grimmund Place. He would've never asked Sirius to do it, but... he was a desperate man in love, trying to hold onto something, anything, to keep his lover close.

Sirius stood guard outside the door of Regulus' room. Noone was gonna come, Orion and Walburga both dead way before his youngest son vanished, but you couldn't ask an older brother to see the dust and the rumpled sheets of his younger brother, James could barely hold the sight himself. But he did. While Sirius stood outside, he looked. He searched. He moved every piece of furniture, of (almost inexistent) decorations. He needed something, anything. And he found everything.

A house elf, Kretcher, crying in a corner so quietly he wasn't surprised he hadn't seen him. A locket, carefully held on Kretcher's hands.

A notepad by his side, with a ripped out page and full of scratched out versions of a note, the same note:

To the Dark Lord

I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. And know that someone someday will finish what I've started.

R.A.B

He read over and over all the versions. Looking for an answer. And that's when his eyes locked on a little doodle on the last page. A star inside of the sun. Next to it, 3 lines.

I wish I could tell you where I'm going, but it's safer this way. Just know that I love you, I know you won't forget me. And one day you'll be happy with me in your memory"

R.A.B.

"Kretcher," James said, surprising himself with a steady voice. "Take me with him"

The sobbing stopped momentarily next to him.

"Ma-master Regulus sa-sa-said noone wa-was to ev-er find the-the cave"

"Take me to him," James insisted. "Do it for him"

----

James couldn't remember how he'd gotten there. He just knew one moment he was holding Regulus handwriting in his hand outside of a cave, and the next, he was standing on an island inside said cave. Kretcher was shaking next to him, and only then, James noticed he was soaking wet.

"He drank from there and then... they took him," said the house elf

"Took him where?" James felt like it wasn't him talking, but he was very much agreeing with what was coming out of his mouth.

A scrawny long finger pointed past him into the water. James looked, then back at Kretcher, then turned towards the start of the water.

"Go back, tell Sirius that i had to go. Tell him... I'm sorry, but I- I just can't leave him alone"

Tears had started falling, blurring his sight, but he didn't need it where he was going. He took a step.

Crack.

Kretcher was gone

Another step.

He remembered those gray stormy eyes.

The water was so close.

Another step.

That cutting smirk.

He could fall and drown on the edge if he fell.

Another step.

His cunning remarks.

The water reached his ankles.

Another step.

His hands .

The water was so cold.

Another step.

His rings.

A hand pulled out of the water and grabbed him. Hard. Punishing.

He was dragged down the water at an incredible speed, faster than he could've swam up. Another hand held him by the hip. He tried to escape. More hands found him and pulled him down.

He gasped for air like he wasn't 3 meters down the water. Many more hands.

The hands were mean. Pulled and grabbed and took and claimed. And that's how he knew. Suddenly, he felt his face being taken between soft hands. Caring and tender soft hands. Soft hands with many rings. Hands he would've recognised anywhere, even in the brink of death. Hands he would've recognised even if they had been mean. And then nothing else mattered.

He remembered one time, out in the Astronomy tower, late at night. Reg was telling him the myths the stars carried with them while laying on his lap and letting him play with his hair.

"Pyramus went to look for Thysbe that night." He had said."He found nothing but the bloody veil she had left behind in an attempt to escape the lion that tried to kill her. But he didn't know that, so he killed himself with his own sword"

James had only thought of how lovely his hair looked under the moonlight and how beautiful his voice sounded and the way his eyes... his eyes were looking at him a bit angry.

"Are you listening to me, Potter?"

James had smiled so hard he almost closed his eyes.

"Of course I am, amor"

"As i was saying," Regulus continued. "When Thysbe came back to fund her lover dead, she followed suit"

"I would too," James said under his breath. "If it had been you, I would've followed too"

Regulus had looked so lovely blushing under the moon.

[aethersea]

I've always wanted to learn bookbinding, ever since I was a wee little nerd, but there are a lot of things I've always wanted to learn, and this one has both a daunting upfront materials cost and a daunting upfront research cost. however, my sister is a jewel among siblings and gave me for christmas last year a handy dandy bookbinding manual, a block of good paper, and a little bag of tools.

but I still didn't have a suitable workspace, nor any of the many important tools and materials that she didn't include in her gift. so I just read the manual and pined. until maybe a month ago I got fed up with pining, flattened a cardboard box for a cutting mat, and went to town.

and I'm real proud of myself, so here's me rambling, plus photos!

I went to the thrift store and got glue + some fabric to bind the cover, went to Michaels for a paintbrush (and later went back for a metal ruler lmao it's amazing how useful it is to have a straightedge for cutting the paper), and...could not find material for the cover boards. so I went home and pined some more. but the urges were too strong, so after a couple hours of moping I got a stack of printer paper at the grocery store (I could not bring myself to use the good paper for my first, inevitably weak attempts, I just couldn't do it) and started making a little booklet. which was a great idea, it turned out, since it makes for good practice with cutting the paper, measuring things, punching holes in the signatures, etc.

I have a big box of greeting cards from Michaels, which I used for the covers. it didn't feel like I was making a Real Book, so I got some colored paper from the stationery store and used that for end papers.

so fancy~

galvanized by this success, I ordered a stack of chipboard online to use for cover boards; and once I was confident that I could cut paper without making it look too stupid (getting that straightedge ruler sure helped lol), I made signatures out of the good paper, left them under some heavy books overnight since I don't have a book press, and then punched holes in them! (huzzah for this nice video on getting the holes right)

my sister's gift included good linen thread. it's unwaxed, but after some poking around on r/bookbinding it looks like that just means I'll have to be more careful to avoid tangles and keep good tension. I am fine with this. I can be extra attentive. (I considered just running it over a beeswax candle, but one commenter said if your wax has paraffin in it, it could melt in a hot car, ruining the spine. I can't guarantee my candle is 100% beeswax, I didn't make it, so maybe we just move on.)

I don't have good linen fabric to use for the tapes, but the important part there is that the fabric be thin, sturdy, and not stretchy. the probably-cotton I got from the thrift store fits the bill, so it'll do!

this is a french link stitch, which I got from this exceedingly good tutorial. apparently it's strong enough on its own that for a book of this size, I don't actually need tapes, but I'd already cut the things so eh here we are. and tapes plus french link will make it a stronger binding still (according to a friendly redditor on r/bookbinding), so we carry on.

specifically we carry on to the gluing step. now as I mentioned, I do not have a book press, and you....kinda need one for this step. you need to hold the book block in place with the signatures facing upwards, pressed together hard enough that the glue won't run down between them and stick the pages together (though you do want the glue to get between them just a little, just for like a 16th of an inch). you at least need some clamps and a couple boards to sandwich the book block with.

but you know what? I'm not a professional, this is my first ever book, if it's a little bit off it'll be fine. so we grab all the heaviest books off the bookshelf and improvise.

it's fine! I'm sure it's fine! and just in case it's not, I've tucked a bit of cardboard underneath to catch any glue that drips down so it won't land on the floor. see? I'm prepared! I'm acing this.

and actually, it really was fine. I used clear elmer's glue, applied with a flat paintbrush from the art supplies aisle at Michael's, and frankly I liked the way the flat paintbrush let me slip glue in between the signatures. I did poke around on a couple bookbinding sites to see what kind of glue I should use, and the gist is that although there are better options than this, elmer's glue is perfectly serviceable, and the main downside is it's not archival grade. but I don't need my first bookbinding attempts to last 200 years, that's fine.

the next step is to add the mull. mull is a specific type of fabric – extremely loose-weave linen – and the idea is to paste it down over the spine to essentially hold the tapes and signatures all in place in relation to each other.

but I don't have mull! so I'm using more of the thrift store probably-cotton, because it's thin enough and not really stretchy at all. I'm sure this will be fine too. I painted a layer of glue onto the spine, then left it to dry a bit while I measured and cut the fabric, then painted a generous stripe of glue down the center, where it'll affix onto the spine. then I added a bit more glue to the spine, just to be sure, and pressed the mull into place, rubbing it thoroughly to make sure it's firmly affixed to every signature, with no creases in the fabric or air bubbles beneath it.

honestly I might have overdone it on the glue. I've never done this before, I don't know! I think it's okay, though – I tried not to ever let it become a thick layer, just a slight coating, since the danger of too much glue is that it might crack once dry and weaken the spine.

and now we leave it in the press overnight to dry, and pick up the next step in the morning!

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[britneyshakespeare]

Sorry I can't stop talking about that ex-mutual who went off on me last night (well really I only made that one, really long and rambly, pretty over-repetitive post about it) but it's been like just running through my mind because of how hurtful that was from someone that on some level I did consider a friend. Not like a close friend who knows everything about me, in fact as I stated to exhaustion in that post I made earlier, the part that really got me was how much they were illustrating that they DON'T really know about me, how much they just ASSUME without ever having heard or seen confirmation from myself. And how unkind those assumptions were. But I did like them (do? I still have sympathy for them as a person and don't wish them any ill...). I cherished the thought of our online friendship we shared around the time I was 18-20ish or so, and even if we never kept in constant conversation (in fact, before I replied to their message last night, we hadn't chatted through DM since early 2021, if that's saying something). I'm sure they still did/do feel that way about me and this isn't easy on them, that they feel hurt by my posts in some way, etc. I did not go on a rant to them, though, attacking their moral character, calling them a coward who can't take criticism and refuses to learn and grow. I told them I think it's ok if we grow apart and though I still hold my differing opinions from them, it's ok to be upset at me for that. But don't bring it to me.

I would've seriously just preferred it if they unfollowed and left. All I keep thinking about these past couple of hours of marinating on it is: entitlement. I've crossed a line because I don't post about issues in the way they would like me to, and ultimately I still will be voting for Kamala Harris. They maintained that much very firmly even after I replied to their first message saying that they were putting a bunch of words in my mouth and not acknowledging how little they actually know about my views and actions in the real world, off of Tumblr; that I might have ways of caring about and engaging with things that are specifically not on my personal blog because of how toxic some zealous communities on this website can grow to be. They still felt the need to attack me at length for all the things I, in their opinion, "support" because I choose to vote for "a fascist" (meaning Harris). Their opinion that both sides are truly the same is the only logical answer and I'm not trying hard enough to be a good person if I don't agree with that. But that's what makes them presumptuous. That's not what makes them entitled.

I feel like the fact that they really did think well of me at one point, that we shared emotions and kind words with each other, that we talked about music and poetry and all sorts of matters of sensibility together, is why they felt the need to bring that to me. When we feel an attachment to someone, even someone we may be lacking a lot of information about, but there's that mutual sympathy there... we feel that we are invested in them. They (and I) felt that the two of us, as friends, reflected each other's values and sense of self. To be honest I was getting annoyed at some of their posts, too, that were basically fatalist about the US Democratic party and how nothing has ever actually changed since Tr mp left office. I simply don't agree with that analysis, and I didn't know how to sensitively bring that up with someone who I did respect and care for as an individual. They were asserting things that basically implied our views were irreconcilable; and yeah, I basically agree that if you're going to call me essentially a g n cide apologist, I don't really know how to reconcile that with you. I don't think that's what I am; they do. They discussed that because they felt that way they were no longer open to a dialogue (one which I never had brought up to them personally) in their reply to my response to their ask, and blocked me afterward. Well, I think it's ok to not be open to a dialogue. In that case, I really don't know how to defend myself. We're on two entirely different levels of interpretation if mild support of Kamala Harris's presidential campaign is seen as akin to me denying g n cide to you. If that's the angle you're approaching me with, I don't want to have a dialogue with you, either. I don't think one in good faith is possible at that point.

They got angry at me though not just for my differing opinion, but for the disappointment they felt in me for it. I ruined the Diana they had so much respect for. Their initial message reminded me so much of when fans hound celebrities to speak on particular issues they may not know anything about. But at least if you're, like, asking the lead singer of your favorite band to speak about a currently topical issue, you probably are falling back on the argument of thinking they have a higher status to their audience that they're neglecting to use for good. Or maybe they've seemed to do and say things in the past that make their current silence seem hypocritical. I don't particularly agree with the former argument, that every celebrity should use their "platform" to raise awareness for certain causes. There are some times when I think calling on a celebrity to speak on this or that specific thing is just kind of silly. I tend not to proclaim instances where I feel that way publicly, because I don't want to trivialize the issue or the fans' feelings. But there's also the parasocial hurt I've seen some people display when they suddenly interpret a person's silence, or (in their perception) 'inadequate' statements and actions, as genuine indifference. That tends to make fans actually angry, the disappointment that this person they admire could be 'doing better' but isn't. I was told by this person that I'm 'not even trying to do better' when we had never had a conversation about what I'm actually 'doing' or thinking or feeling, even a single time. They let their impression of me fester in silent resentment before finally snapping at me about all the things I never actually said to them.

I'm sure they felt like they had reached their limit of tolerating me, and reaching out was only so they could feel like they had some closure. That they had said their piece to a person they cared about but could no longer associate with. I don't think they actually considered what use their message would actually have to me. That it would be hurtful to be accused of all these moral failings by someone I used to just talk about Jane Austen books with. Someone I shared my poetry and feelings with when I was younger. They must have been feeling 'betrayed' at me for not living up to the expectations and standards they set for me, for not being the idealized friend that I must've seemed when we were in our late teen years. But I am feeling shock and confusion at the sudden void of sympathy or benefit of the doubt being directed towards me from someone I once mutually regarded somewhat highly and rather affectionately.

It didn't have to have been a deep friendship, where we shared all aspects of our life with each other, for this to be hurtful to me or for my words to have been hurtful to them. I'm sure they felt so angry at me because they do think I'm a smart and sympathetic person that they expect 'better' from. But I'm really not your confirmation bias friend. None of the sweet but somewhat shallow memories they once respected me for has to be null and void now because I'm not sufficiently radical in my politics for them. And again, I do think that they were under the impression that they knew my current thoughts and personal philosophies a lot better than they do, because of how much more of an open book I used to be on this website when we first started following each other. I never made some announcement that I was going to start being more reserved about certain things, guys, so, like, don't act like you know everything about me. Because should I have to? I don't have a "platform" or really any meaningful social status on this website. But they still thought I wasn't doing "enough" with it because they interpret my blog as being more intrinsically linked to my actual life than it is. My social status to them was the good opinion they had of me, that I soiled by disagreeing with them in principle about electoral politics.

I'm not less smart or kind than I used to be. That's really not how I make sense of people I mostly like, but who have done or said something I deplore and that disappoints me deeply. You don't have to abandon all faith in the individuals you love. People do not always make sense with your own moral compass, but you can still tell when they're not evil. And I don't think they think I'm evil. I don't think they're evil. None of the sympathy I ever had for them is gone. I'm just honestly hurt and confused. I don't understand why they thought it was appropriate to take up their issues with me in the way that they did.

And again, in every single timeline, I would rather have just been disappointed to see that a once-respected mutual has unfollowed me, after some years of growing apart and changing, than I would to be hurt by someone dramatically going off on me about how they can't be friends with me anymore because I'm just not good enough for them.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Simon had been angry before, no question about that. But he had never been this angry. The moment the helicopter touched down, he grabbed your elbow and dragged you through the base, until you reached the building that was assigned to the 141. All the way, he ignored the concerned and annoyed shouts from the others. And you? You couldn't say anything to defend yourself. Not this time at least.

Simon had all the reasons to be angry, one could have. You were reckless, stubborn, almost got yourself killed in the process. And now you were bearing the consequences. So, you let him drag you through the base, ignoring the curious stares and the way his nails bit into your skin, even through the shirt you were wearing. 

As soon as you two stepped foot into the rec room, he pushed you inside, before stalking to you, glaring as if you were one of his enemies. But you knew better and you saw the worry and fear hidden behind the anger. 

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?" Price, Soap, and Gaz entered the room, looking worried. "Simon, calm down." Usually, Price's words would have worked. Would have gotten Simon to come to his senses. But you knew he was too far gone. 

"I wasn't thinking. I did what I had to, just like you taught me." You tried to square up to him, but the fire burning in his eyes made you back down. "I didn't fuckin' teach you to get yourself killed now, did I?" You sighed, frustrated, and glared right back at the giant in front of you. 

"You know what I mean. Don't act as if you wouldn't have done the sa-" He interrupted you, spit flying as he suddenly yelled. "That's not what this is about!" Your glare disappeared as your eyes widened in shock. He must have realized what he just did, taking a few steps back, his hand raking down his face. When he looked back at you, a quiet whisper that was your name, left his lips, but you stopped him.

"Fuck you, Simon." That seemed to get his anger going again. "Don't. You're on thin fucking ice right now, you understand?" Your eyes immediately found Soap's, who was already smirking. 

Just last week, he showed you a stupid meme, where someone said "You're on thin ice", and the other person started tap dancing. And in that moment, you knew what you had to do, no matter the cost. So, you stood up straight and started to tap dance. Or at least tried to. First, you had no clue how to, so whatever it looked like, it must've been terrible. And second, before you even got three steps in, Simon's arm wrapped around your waist and he threw you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.

"Hey!" Not reacting at all, he walked out of the rec room, once again ignoring the others calling after him. Although, it was only Price and Gaz calling. Soap was standing beside them, bent over laughing.

Before you knew it, Simon put you down again. But it wasn't gently, no. Instead, he just threw you onto, what you quickly realized was, his bed. And when you heard the lock click, you knew you were in for a night.

A/N: I love all of you, hope you know that! <3

[happy74827]

Say Yes to Heaven

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is one look. One gesture. One word. One action. To remind them that not everyone sees them the same, and It's enough to send a person over the edge.

WC: 3690

Category: Fluff, First Kiss, Logan’s POV

Another Grumpy!Logan x Sunshine!Reader because it’s my comfort trope ✨🫶

『••✎••』

He never realized how much he wanted someone to care for.

It was something he didn't know he desired. A year ago, he didn't care for a single thing. He felt nothing. He was so numb. So empty.

He was an angry man. The kind of man people kept their distance from. Wade ruined that; he aggravated him so much that Logan started actually caring about his life. And for as much as he despised his fugly ass, he was internally grateful for him. He started to open up more and more.

Wade had a part in taking him out of rock bottom, as they say, but you… you aggravated him in the most endearing way possible. You were so bright, so happy, and full of life. Logan couldn't understand how someone could be like that, and he hated you for it. He thought it was so ignorant of you.

"I mean, come on, how could she be that happy all the time? It's fucking dumb. She doesn't even know me!"

That's what he said to Wade, but his roommate only laughed. He found his frustration hilarious and made fun of him constantly.

And don’t even get started on the way you spoke. Never once have you raised your voice at anyone. You always talked softly, and even if you were pissed off, you still found a way to make your words sound gentle.

The man couldn’t wrap his mind around the way you acted, you weren’t a mutant, but you damn well could have been with that forever customer service smile you wore every day.

The level of patience and understanding you held for people was insane to him, especially the amount of patience you held with him.

He was constantly telling you to fuck off, and you took no offense; you just returned that stupidly kind smile and told him that if he needed anything, you were there for him.

You had no clue what he’s done, what he's capable of, and yet you treat him with the utmost respect. And being a mutant, respect, and kindness were two things he hadn’t received in a very long time.

It made him realize things—about himself and others. He started noticing you a little more—the way you looked and the way you acted. It started out as simple confusion and disgust… the typical reactions one would have when one sees an overly happy person.

But it evolved slowly into intrigue and curiosity.

Then something else. Something he couldn't describe.

His first instinct was to push it away. To try and convince himself, he was disgusted. He did this with everything he felt, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

It wasn't disgust.

He couldn't name it; he wasn't ready to, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Wade had noticed the change in him, the way he looked at you, the way he started being a little less rough with the words he chose to say. He didn’t bring it up, but the shit-eating grin he gave each time Logan walked in and saw you was more than enough proof that he had picked up on it.

Of course, it only resorted to grins because the one time he opened his mouth, Logan didn’t restrain himself. He popped his claws and had to go couch shopping the next day.

Whoops.

So, with Wade keeping his mouth shut after being chewed out by Blind Al and Logan trying his best to push away the foreign feelings, it finally reached a point where he could no longer ignore them.

He didn’t understand why, of all nights, it had to be this one, but it was.

It was 3 am, and his old nightmares had come back to haunt him. He was restless, sweaty, and couldn't take another second of sleep.

It took a rinsing of the bathroom sink and a pitiful glare at his reflection for you to return his gaze.

He froze for a second.

You were wearing a large T-shirt, with a pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was messy, but it looked so soft, and your face was clear of makeup, leaving the imperfections of your skin that made you all the more beautiful.

Always wearing a smile. Always greeting him with a soft voice, sometimes a little raspy if just waking up, butnonetheless soft.

But once he rubbed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, you weren’t there anymore.

Because you were never there, you lived across the street. You were in your apartment, sleeping, with no idea that, at that moment, the man who constantly told you to fuck off realized he couldn't stop thinking about you.

The same man who would grunt, scoff, and throw away every kind gesture now realized he secretly cherished them.

He stood there for a moment, just pondering his thoughts. His eyes were still on the spot he saw you in.

His head turned to the right, seeing the digital clock that rested on the nightstand.

3:02 am.

You were asleep…. most likely asleep. You would be unhappy if he came over and woke you up, wouldn't you?

He looked back at the sink.

You could be upset, but you could also be happy. You could give him that smile. That sweet, warm smile.

It would be worth it, right? Just for that?

3:04 am

He didn’t think about it. Not even for a second. Ironically, it started raining as if to test him, but the man was determined.

He put on a jacket to cover his bare chest, threw on some random shoes, and was out the door before his mind could stop him.

3:13 am

He knocked on your apartment door. He was completely drenched from the rain. His hair was messy, his jacket sticking to his body, and his shoes were so wet that the squelching sound they made was the only thing audible.

He heard shuffling. Soft steps coming closer. He could smell your scent. It shocked him how easy it was for him to recognize it.

You unlocked the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

His mental image of you being in sleepwear, messy hair, no makeup, had been confirmed. You were beautiful.

You had a tired look, one of the many looks he wasn’t used to. But it was still a good look, and it still held your signature kindness.

He had a feeling it would.

You didn't look too shocked, just tired and confused.

You spoke. "Logan, is…? Are you okay?"

Your voice was even softer than usual, the raspiness it held only making it more comforting.

You were genuinely worried about him, and it hit him then that he was being an asshole. Making you wake up in the middle of the night, and for what? Just because he wanted to see you?

Just because of that, he should’ve given you a reason. An explanation.

He should've asked. He should have done so many things differently, but he didn’t.

His head was in the clouds, and all he could think about was you.

You. That was all.

But his expression gave away that he was in a daze, and your worry only grew.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

You stepped out into the hallway and reached a hand to him.

His heart jumped a bit when you did so. It was just a gesture—one simple act of compassion.

He wasn't worthy of that, but he couldn't resist. He didn't want to.

Your fingers barely brushed against his upper arm before he moved. He grabbed your wrist.

His grip wasn't hard. His hold was gentle, as he had no intentions of hurting you. You could’ve easily pulled your arm away if you wanted to, but you didn't.

His eyes locked with yours. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but it felt so right, so he followed his instincts.

He tugged at your wrist, causing your body to fall into him. Your chest pressed against his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting on the small of your back.

The embrace was so sudden, and he knew the situation was far from ideal, but his senses were overflowed by your presence, your scent, your softness.

His chin rested atop your head, and his eyes fluttered closed.

It wasn’t the first time he ever hugged someone, but it was the first time he hugged someone in such a way. He held onto you tightly, his grip possessive but not painful.

He was afraid to let go.

He felt your hands press against his chest. You were probably going to push him away, he thought, and he tried to prepare himself. He told himself he would let you go because it was the right thing to do, yet he didn’t need to.

You hugged him back, and he almost lost his footing.

How long had it been since he last received a hug? Since the last time, someone held him and showed him affection?

Too long.

Your hands went inside his opened jacket and held onto him. Your fingers pressed against his skin, and your soft, warm breaths caressed his neck.

He could stay like this for eternity, and he would never grow tired of it.

Your voice reached his ears.

"Logan, did something happen?"

He had been standing there for quite a while. He wasn’t aware of how long. Time seemed to freeze around you, but he didn’t mind. He wasn't one to believe in such nonsense, but when it came to you, he was ready to accept it.

Your hand rested on his arm, and he knew you were subtly prompting him to move, and so he did.

He pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

Your lips were turned upwards. The corners of your eyes creased.

"Logan?"

It was then that his actions registered—how utterly close the two of you were, how intimately you were holding each other. He was already warm just from genetics alone, but now he felt everything around him heat up.

"I-"

He didn't know what to say. It was like he was back in that bar, drinking away every thought. He couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing but the feel of your body against his.

But what truly sealed the deal was when he felt your thumb gently caress his knuckles. It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but it was centered exactly on the scars his claws made.

That little movement made his brain short-circuit. His hands twitched. His grip tightened. He held onto you with his entire body as if scared to let you go.

"What happened?"

You were patient with him. The fact that he hadn’t even answered any of your concerns said enough.

But, eventually, he did find some words to respond with. It wasn’t the answer you were searching for, but it was a response.

"Why are you always being so fucking kind?"

It was such a simple question, and yet the amount of pain it carried was overwhelming. He knew you could hear every word behind it. Every word he couldn't bring himself to say.

He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good man. He did horrible things, and sure… he made an attempt to make up for it. To be better, but it couldn’t have been enough, could it?

You were still here, looking at him with those soft eyes.

Why couldn't you look at him the way he deserved to be looked at? Like he was a monster.

Why did you have to look at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes?

"You deserve kindness, Logan. We all do."

And then, your voice became even softer and a little shaky. Your hands went back to massaging his knuckles. His scars.

"Just because you see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I see the good in you. Always have since we first met."

You spoke so softly, yet your words were heavy with emotion.

"I know it's not easy, but try to have a little more faith in yourself."

You didn’t deserve the harsh words he always threw at you. You didn’t deserve any of his anger. You didn't deserve him.

"Why?" He repeated his question, his voice strained, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "Why should I?"

His arms loosened their hold around you; his hands moved down your sides, and his touch feathered light. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t quite let go just yet.

You paid it no mind. Only staring back into his eyes with the same kindness he was so used to, the one he had grown to treasure.

"You have a right to feel the way you do, Logan. And I can't claim to understand what you've been through. I can't begin to imagine. But you are a good man. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but you’ve shown me time and time again that you're trying."

A smile crept its way onto your face, and a soft giggle escaped past your lips.

Now, to be fair, he was used to hearing your laughter. With your… odd sense of humor, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But, this would be one of the firsts to add to his collection.

The one reserved for him and him only.

Your laughter wasn’t loud, or annoying, or anything like Wade's. It was soft, sweet, and oh-so pleasant.

You were looking at him. Staring up at him with such love and warmth. You didn't even realize it, but he did.

"Besides, who wouldn't be a little grouchy waking up to that handsome face every morning?"

And, now, he was repulsed by the unwelcome vision of a certain masked man making his way into his head. He was so disgusted by the thought he didn’t bother responding. He didn't want to.

So, instead, he moved.

He had a habit of moving on his own and not thinking about it. It went from his hands going to your sides, and now, his hands reaching out to press against the door behind you.

You were pinned against the door, and the way you looked at him didn’t change. Of course, it didn't. Your eyes were always kind. They always were.

You were leaning against the door. Looking at him, waiting.

And he stared back.

He was so close, and he was tempted to pull away. To take a step back and leave. It would be the best for both of you; at least, he thinks so.

He couldn't give you anything.

He had nothing.

There was only himself. His body. His mind. His past.

His claws, too, if that counted for anything.

But, besides those, there was nothing.

He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn't good either. Not like you were. He couldn’t possibly begin to match you, not even if he tried.

Which is why he had no intention of trying.

Yet, even as he thought that, his body moved even closer. The dog tags he had never taken off since he was given them hung loosely, dangling in front of your face.

One of your hands was on his chest, the other gripping onto the material of his shirt.

"Logan."

You spoke his name so softly. Almost a whisper, and yet, the sound of it was all his senses were focused on.

Your gaze shifted between his eyes and lips, and the hand that had been holding onto his shirt moved, reaching up to his shoulder.

The touch was light, as if hesitant, and it caused him to lean even closer.

It was so close. You were so close. You had been before, but never like this. Never in the way he wanted.

He wanted you so badly.

And you were right there. Looking at him with those eyes, with a soft, tender smile, and with an expression he didn't recognize.

He knew that was an invitation. You were always an open book, and your body language was no different.

And it wasn't the first time you did so.

There were many times when you looked at him. Your eyes trailing over his face. Your gaze went downwards, lingering before you snapped out of it and looked away.

He always saw it, always knew it was there, but he just chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the right mind, then. He was just another broken man, struggling to get by, trying his best.

Trying to find some meaning in his life.

But, even now, he was still hesitant. Even after coming all the way here and making his intentions clear, he struggled with it.

"Are you sure?"

Because you were so much better than him.

Because he could still remember the day the two of you met. How much of an asshole he was, how rude, how angry.

It wasn’t until the seventh time you approached him that he realized that he had met someone who genuinely, wholeheartedly cared.

It wasn't until the twentieth time you approached him that he finally accepted it.

He could never forget the way you smiled and spoke to him, even though he had given you no reason to.

"Hi, Logan!"

You would say.

"Good morning!"

You would wave.

"Have a nice day, Logan."

You would nod, even though the man himself chose to ignore you. Goddamn it. You were so much better than him.

Much purer. Much more innocent.

You had a heart of gold, and a soul as white as snow. You were so good, so kind, and the thought of soiling you, of ruining your light with his darkness, it scared him.

It was the sole reason he didn't give in, even now, with you offering yourself to him.

He didn't want to ruin you.

"Yes."

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Your eyes were so kind. So full of love, and the same emotion reflected back in his own.

But, even with the clear sign of assurance, he still felt the need to create one last line of defense.

With the hand against the door, he peeled it back enough to have your eyes catch sight of the fist it made.

In a millisecond, he unleashed his claws and slammed his fist against the door, the sharp adamantium easily slicing through the wood, causing the door to crack.

And, yet, no reaction. Not a single flinch, not a wince, not even a hitch of breath.

You weren't afraid. Not at all. Even as the claws were mere inches from your face, you weren't scared.

The corners of your mouth twitched. Upwards, and it soon bloomed into a bright smile.

He retracted his claws, and gave you another once-over, just to be sure, and you responded by lifting your hand, grasping the metal chain hanging from his neck.

Your fingers grazed against the cool metal, and your smile softened before turning into a small grin.

"For a man who states he isn’t scared of anything, you sure have a lot of defense mechanisms, Logan."

Teasing. That was a new one for you.

He liked it.

"Say it again." Now, finally, you showed a different expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity. You were wondering what he meant. "My name."

"Logan."

For you, his actions were mere seconds. You had no time to process the feeling of his breath against your lips. The feeling of his stubble tickling your skin. The feeling of his warm, dry lips pressed against yours.

But, for him, it was a slow, steady motion. He took his time. He pulled you closer, his hands moving from the door and cupping the back of your head and your waist.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing rushed.

He held you like you were fragile. Like you were made of porcelain and could break at any moment. He could, theoretically, but he would rather go through Cassandra’s entire repertoire of torture than hurt you.

He lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck, his own pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tasted exactly how you were. Pure. Sweet.

Like heaven.

He was sure he was leaving that of the bitter alcohol he had downed on your lips, but you didn't seem fussy about it.

Not that he could focus on anything else, anyway.

He was too distracted by the way his tongue danced with yours.

Too focused on the taste of your mouth.

Too distracted by the way your hands made themselves a home in his wet hair. They would tug every once in a while, releasing a groan he hadn’t known was there.

He was too distracted to care.

He was too lost in your scent. Wade always called him that character from that shity vampire movie due to his nose.

He always disagreed until you happened to mention the resemblance. Then, and only then, did he see the logic.

And you saw the logic here, too—the logic of how good you melted together. Experiencing it now made him question his decision to stay away.

If it was always going to be this good, this intoxicating, he should’ve done it a long time ago.

He should've taken the chance.

It would've saved the two of you a lot of frustration, and a lot of headaches.

But it didn't matter. He was here now.

And, as his foot broke into the door, mouth still latched onto yours, with him figuring his way about your apartment, he thought:

It doesn't matter.

As long as I’m here.

As long as you’re in my arms.

It doesn't matter.

Fortunately, that meant he didn’t have to wake up to that toupee-stapled face every morning, as he had so dreadfully imagined.

Unfortunately, it also meant that the next time he saw Wade, he would have to deal with him talking his ears off about what had transpired.

But, for now, he could live with that.

He was more focused on the fact on making sure you weren’t regretting your choice.

Because he sure as fuck didn’t.

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ ah-ah, barbie, you're so fine! ❞

special treatment : thighs edition

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : kamo choso + itadori yuuji + higuruma hiromi + ryomen sukuna

☾₊‧⁺...cw : pussy eating, facesitting, somnophilia, dirty talk, fingerfucking, overstimulation, praise kink, degradation, desperation, oral fixation, squirting, creampie, choso being whiny, yuuji being a little shit, yuuji is 21yrs & a college student, hiromi being pussydrunk, sukuna being whipped

✧ k. choso : poor choso, ever since the first time he's gotten a taste of what's between your thighs, he's begging you every day just to eat your cunt. but today? today must be a bad day, because choso is desperate. his already between your thighs, whimpering and whining as he mouths at you through your underwear, tears in his eyes as he begs you to give him a little taste. once you do, his eyes are rolling back just from the first lick.

"you taste so good, fuck, so good, thank you, thank you, mmph, so delicious, i can't get enough." "can you cum again? i know it's been 4 times already, but please? please, please, pleaase, pretty thing, i need itttt..." "oh my goddd, you're cumming? yes, yes, cum on my tongue, pretty please, i'll fuck you so good after, just keep cumming, don't hold back." "stop-stop running away, i know your pretty pussy is all sensitive b-but i just, i can't stop...but you know you can say the safeword and i'll stop, right? ...what? you-you like being overstimulated...? fuck, fuck, okay, let me make you squirt on my tongue then i'll fuck you good, okay?"

✧ i. yuuji : yuuji's always been a smug little shit whenever it came to teasing you. what starts off with him tickling you and blowing raspberries into your stomach turns nto hot kisses against your stomach that let down to the waistband of your underwear as he pushes your shirt up higher on your body. he can't help but grin up at you when he notices the wet spot on your panties from his little kisses.

"d'awww, bunny, y'so cute! look at how wet you are. is that 'cus of me? ehehe, i know, i know, teasing is mean, but i can't help it...you're just so adorable." "y'know i can practically feel your heartbeat whenever i kiss it? mhm, i can feel that, pretty girl. don't cover your face, baby, you're so cute!" "your thighs are so soft. i could stay between here forever, fuck goin' to classes or missions, i'd rather just eat you out until you pass out." "open up these legs a little more, let me get my fingers in there...thereeee we go, such a pretty lil' bun, aren't you?" "you're so messy! did i do this to you? yeah? aww, my pretty girl likes meee! i felt how you squeezed on my fingers! so cute!

✧ h. hiromi : ever since you made a comment about his nose, saying 'doja is right about big noses' in passing to him, hiromi has been curious. curious enough to the point where he looks it up, seeing the video of said woman. so, you wanted to sit on his face and grind on his nose, hm? you've never sat on his face before but he was sure to change that.

"i don't care if you think i'll die, i want you to sit on my face. i'm giving you the chance to either have control of your pace or let me do what i want with you. so, what's your decision?" "see? it's not that bad, angel, you forget your husband isn't some weakling...now c'mon on, get yourself right over my mouth, let me taste you." "god, you're so beautiful like this. i need you on my face more often, you're dripping all over my mouth...such a good girl for me." "heh...i knew you said my nose was perfect for sitting on but i didn't realize it would get you this riled up. go ahead, sweet thing, you can keep grinding that clit on it...just like that, just let me make you feel good." "good lord, i never wanna leave between your thighs. so fucking sweet, shit, angel, you've got me wrapped around that pretty finger. c'mon, let me devour you all night, i'll let you get up when i'm done."

✧ r. sukuna : getting sukuna to lay on his back without him instantly taking control of the situation was easier than you thought. hell, even crawling up higher so that you were hovering over his face was too. but little did you know, sukuna was intrigued, liking the side of you where you would just take control of him, knowing that only you had the right to do that...especially if it meant he got to eat you until you soaked his face.

"you know i should kill you for thinking you can just sit on my face like i'm some kind of personal chair. i am the king of curses, not a piece of furniture...what? ...hm. i guess you do look...good over me like this." "...huh? sorry, i wasn't listening. when are you going to sit on my face? you keep blabbering, but i can see the way that sticky cunt is dripping for me. are you gonna just let it go to waste?" "oh. shit. you've been holdin' out on me, haven't you, diamond? shit, i can see all of you from down here...nah, keep grinding on my face, little one, use me for your pleasure...let me see you cum on my mouth." "such a fucking slut. my mouth is coated in your cum, but you still wanna keep going? my tongue that good for you?" "no, no, i'm not letting you back down until you beg, diamond. tell me how badly you want me to fuck your pussy with my tongue...hm. good enough."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter this work

[cherrygirlfriend]

golfing

bsf!rafe teaching ditzy!reader to golf

warnings: smut, golf (it's a warning), MDNI

i have not played golf since i was 14 and i sucked at it so don't blame me if i don't know how it works i only care about golf when it's abt golf daddy ... originally posted 10/15/2024

you'd never really been interested in any kind of sports; sure, when you were in high school you did cheer, but since then, most of the physical activity you did was running or pilates, and something you definitely had no interest in was golf, and that was something not even a cute golfing outfit had managed to change.

"i dunno 'bout this, rafey..." you said, playing with the hem of your pink golf skirt. "i'd just much rather watch you play."

"come on, sweets, you already agreed to it."

"rafe, why did you even bring her along?" topper sighed exasperatedly, and that earned a piercing look from rafe, as well as a pouty look from you, causing him to throw up his hands, going to position himself.

"come on, what happened to 'trying new things'? i mean, i agreed to do some girly shit you wanna do if you do this for me."

"but rafeee," you whined, pointed out your freshly done nails, "these nails aren't meant to go near balls, why do you think i don't give you handjobs?"

"jesus christ," rafe snorted, unable to resist laughing, although he knew by the look on your face that you were fully serious, before straightening his face. in all fairness, your nails were pretty long, "if something happens to your nails, i'll pay to have 'em done again. now get your pretty ass here. you're not getting out of this." he said, holding out his hand.

you hopped off the golf cart with a huff, your glossy lower lip pushed forward in a pout that made rafe want to kiss it off your face. reluctantly, you took his hand, and he pulled you closer to his body in a way that made your heart race.

"alright, take this." he said, picking up one of his clubs and handing it to you. rafe showed you how to hold it, standing right behind you, his front right up against your back, gently holding onto your hips.

"you know, if you wanted to feel me up, you could've just asked."

"i don't need an excuse to feel you up." rafe grinned, pressing a kiss on your bare shoulder, before fixing your hold on the club with his own hands. "alright, feet further apart." he mumbled, as he pushed your feet further apart before stepping back. looking over you with slightly narrowed eyes, his thumb slightly pulling at his lower lip in concentration.

"bend your knees." rafe said, and the commanding tone of his voice caused a shiver to go down your spine as you did what he told, all the while biting your bottom lip. "good girl..." he murmured, fully focusing on getting your form correctly, unaware of the effect he was having on you. "wait, hold on." he said, once again moving to stand behind you, both of his hands on your hips as he pulled them back slightly, your heart now fully pounding against your chest.

"perfect." he stood back again, "alright, when you swing, remember to twist your body as you do. you ready?"

you nodded, your face flushed as you swung, making sure to twist your body as you did so, and when the ball launched away, you turned to rafe with a cheerful expression, throwing your hands in the air. "i did it!"

"you did." he chuckled; to be honest, he had no idea where the hell the ball even landed; all he had been focused on was you.

"can you position me again?" you said, twirling your hair as you bit down on your lip.

after around an hour of golfing, you, rafe and his friends made your way to the country club, the boys talking about getting drinks, but the moment you got inside, you made an excuse to rafe's friends about how you needed his help with something, only to tug him into the women's bathroom, pushing him against the door, your lips on his in a second as if you'd drown if you didn't devour every part of him at that moment.

when he finally pulled away, leaving you feel even hungrier for him, rafe looked down at you in a slight daze, "what's this?" he grinned, his hands finding their way onto your hips, only for you to grab one of his hands, bringing it to the waistband of your skirt, rafe's eyes widening when he realized what you were after.

you looked into his eyes, your hand over his as you guided it down your skirt and down your panties, letting out a sigh when you felt his fingers on your folds, the small chuckle he let out making you bite down on your lip, "shit, you're soaked, huh?"

nodding, you looked up at him, your pupils blown wide as you waited for him to tell you what to do, the blonde chewing on his lower lip as he thought before clearing his throat. "'right, take your panties off and sit on the counter." he said, locking the door.

you slid your panties off, hopping to sit on the marble counter with your still on. "attagirl." rafe said, coming over to you. he took hold of your chin, making you look up at him, before kissing you so fleetingly it almost made your lips burn, "gonna be quiet f'me?"

"mmhm..." you hummed in what was almost a whine, only making him tsk.

"i don't believe you." he said, pressing a quick peck on your lips, "open your mouth." rafe commanded, and you did as he said, only to have your own panties stuffed in your mouth, tasting your own arousal on the fabric. "now you will."

he got on his knees, wrapping his arms around the backs of your thighs as he tugged you closer to him, your skirt allowing you to slide to the edge of the counter while you held onto a to a paper towel dispenser, rafe pulling up your skirt with a hungry look in his eyes.

"look so fucking good, baby..." he mumbled, starting to press kisses up your thigh, getting painfully close to your folds, making you to let out a whine from behind your panties, only for rafe to smack your inner thigh, "quiet. 'm trying to enjoy my meal here."

you threw your head back against the mirror when you finally felt rafe lick a stripe up your cunt, biting down on the lace of your panties, your hand gripping onto the paper towel dispenser even harder when you felt his tongue lapping at your entrance, his grip on your thighs tightening when you felt the hilt of his tongue against your walls, before pulling back.

"so good..." he muttered against your pussy, causing vibrations to go down through your body, rafe pulling one of his arms away from your thigh, letting it rest against the marble, while the other brought your other thigh to rest on his shoulder. he gathered some of your wetness into his fingers, the tips of his fingers teasing your entrance while his lips pressed kisses on your puffy clit, your whole body feeling like it was on fire.

when rafe finally pushed his fingers into you, your back arched all over again, finally feeling some proper release. his ring was cold against your pussy as he pumped his digits in and out of you, slowly building up his pace.

he started occasionally flicking your clit with his tongue, and every time rafe did so, he could see your eyes roll back into your head.

the pace of his fingers were relentless as you started clenching around them slightly, and he couldn't help but grin, knowing you were close, and that's when rafe attached his lips to your clit, starting to suck on it while his fingers thrust in and out of you, and you couldn't help the whines and moans you were letting out, luckily muffled by the lacy fabric.

"that's it..." rafe mumbled against your pussy, making your entire body vibrate, "come on my fingers, pretty girl..."

you couldn't help it, the band in your abdomen that had been building up since you stood on that golf course finally snapping when rafe attached his lips back to your puffy clit, your walls starting to spasm around his fingers in a way that made him groan as you felt yourself making a mess of what little counter was under you.

rafe started slowing down his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm, pressing a small kiss on your clit before he pulled his lips away, looking up at you, and when you looked at him with half-lidded eyes, his lips were so gloriously puffy and covered in you.

finally, he pulled out his fingers and stood up straight, taking your panties out of your mouth and dropping them to your lap while your head felt so gloriously fuzzy and empty. rafe pressed his lips on yours, and you could taste your arousal on him as his tongue entered your mouth.

when rafe pulled away, he let out a chuckle, "mmm, look so pretty 'n dumb right now." he brought his fingers to your lips, "open up and clean up for me, pretty girl."

[mylonelylife135]

My pathetic Family

Vigilantes.

TW: Injuries, violence against (you).

.

.

.

Dick's parents died.

You found that out when you were eventually asked by Alfred how it went 'bonding' with your new brother.

You told the truth. Why wouldn't you? it's not like you had played with stuffed plushies and ate cookies together.

You tried to get to know this new sibling, and got yelled at.

What else was there to say?

"(____), The reason why Master Richard got angry is because... Because his parents are gone." Alfred's voice sounded guilty, like he didn't want to tell you this information without Richard's consent.

Gazing up at Alfred, you couldn't help but blurt out the words "Like my mommy?"

Alfred eyes widened in surprise momentarily before he regained his composure and ruffled the top of your head. "Yes, just like your mother, (____)."

You couldn't help but wonder why it was such a big deal, then? you didn't even know your own mom, let alone your dad.

Then again, if it was Alfred you would be very sad. So I guess you sort of understood where your new brother was coming from.

Of course, once Alfred found out that you and Richard had what could be honestly said as a horrible first meeting: He told Bruce about what had transpired between the two of you.

You didn't expect that it would strain your relationship further with your new brother when Alfred had informed Bruce of your unfortunate interaction with Richard.

It hadn't been more than a day after your interaction with Richard that he had barged into your room while you were playing by yourself, slamming the door open and looking furious.

It wasn't hard to find your room. Especially since Alfred and Bruce had Richard's room set up right next to yours in the hopes you would body with each other by being in close proximity.

Of course, that would never happen.

"You told on me!? Thanks for getting me in trouble you little-" Richard cut himself off, hands clenched tightly.

You stared at Richard wide-eyed on the floor, clutching a teddy plush to your chest tightly.

"I didt-didn't lie. Y-You yell at me bev-before and now." You responded back, confused since it wasn't like you lied.

Alfred told you to tell the truth! Like when you accidentally broke a plate or you took snacks from the fridge!

What was so wrong with telling the truth?

"It doesn't mean you have be a snitch!" What was a snitch?

"I-I am not!" You denied, clutching your stuffed teddy tighter.

You didn't know what a snitch was, but it sounded like a bad thing with how your new brother was saying it.

"Whatever, just don't do it again!" Richard turned on his heel, about to leave.

Your eyes were to the ground; You were tearing up again, you didn't like being yelled at.

It made you feel like you did something wrong.

"Are you mat-mad at me bew-becawse of your mommy and daddy being gone?" You asked, eyes teary and your voice shaky.

"...What did you just say?" You could hear your brother stop in his tracks, his voice suddenly quiet.

Maybe now you could try again, another chance. Another chance to get on the right track.

You didn't entirely understand your brothers situation but you did have something in common.

"My mommy is aw- also go-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before the back of your head hit your bedside table and both your face and back of your head burning with pain.

An ear-piercing shriek of pain escaped you, your tiny hands going up to clutch your face, blood gushing out of your nose and tears dribbling down your cheeks.

You looked up with blurry vision only to see Richard's baby blue eyes full of fury, then watched as it quickly turned to shock as he had realized what he had done.

He kicked you in the face.

He had just kicked Bruce's child in the face.

Richard took a step closer to you with a hand outstretched, and you instinctively backed up only for your back to hit the bedside table.

You immediately screamed, crying incoherently at Richard to go away and for your daddy.

Just as quickly as you had screamed, footsteps came rushing towards your room to the sound of screaming and crying.

You didn't remember much of what had happened afterward other than stumbling towards Alfred's legs and hugging them tightly before you were picked up. You rested your head on his shoulder, sobbing and clutching his neck.

You looked back with blurry and glassy eyes as Alfred rushed you out of your room; seeing Bruce standing in front of Richard and Richard's pale expression. Droplets of blood stained the wooden floors.

.

.

.

It was a miracle you didn't have to go to the hospital.

Fortunately, you only had a bloody, bruised nose and a bump on the back of your head.

Other than a slight headache and your face burning, you were fine.

You were fine. You were fine. You were fine. Alfred was furious and didn't leave your side, making sure to keep gauze in your nostrils, a cold compress on the back of your head and once your nose stopped bleeding some ointment to ease the pain and bandages on your nose.

Only when did you manage to fall asleep late into the night did Alfred leave your side to have a discussion with Bruce and Richard.

"Master Bruce, this is unacceptable! Do you know how badly he could have hurted (____) very badly if he hit any harder!" Alfred cried out, his voice full of anger at how the man he considered his own son was so apathetic. Bruce inhaled sharply, putting his cowl over his head "Alfred, I've already forbidden Dick from crime fighting as Robin. He will also apologize to (____)-"

"Master Dick has hurt your child! What good is an apology if (____) starts crying at the mention of his name!?" Alfred raised his voice, a hand on his head as he let out a heavy sigh. "Bruce, (____) is too scared to tell even me the truth about what had happened. All she is saying is that she 'fell.' No child manages to get injuries such as this unless she has fallen from a high tree." "..."

Richard was standing off to the side in the batcave, his head hung low in shame as he listened to his mentor and his butler arguing.

It was around 8 or 9 PM last time Richard checked, he didn't get the opportunity to find what time it was now since he had been yelled at for the last hour by Bruce and now was listening to Bruce and Alfred arguing about what he did.

Bruce was putting on his batsuit as he argued with Alfred, it was clear that what had happened was not going to stop him from going out and fighting crime tonight.

Richard glanced upwards as he heard small movements that he was positive wasn't Bruce putting on his batsuit as he argued with Alfred. He swore he could hear tiny pitter patters of footsteps- "Oh jeez!-" A curse almost escaped Richard's lips, causing Alfred and Bruce's to turn towards Richard before becoming dead silent.

You were in the batcave at the end of the steps, your eyes dead set on the three and clutching your favorite chameleon plush close to your face, as if to cover how bad your nose looked.

How did you even get into the batcave? Alfred was sure he put you to bed and the grandfather clock entrance that covered the stairs was covered as usual and even then there's a code that you shouldn't know unless-

"I heard yelling." You say quietly, a sniffle escaping you as you tried to breathe through your nose and it ached.

Your eyes were on your dad in a bat suit.

Batman.

He was Batman, You've seen him on T.V before with a boy in a red suit. You chattered excitedly to Alfred many times whenever you saw Batman on T.V about how Batman and Robin were so cool.

If Batman was your daddy, then Robin was Richard.

"A-Are you Batman, da-daddy?" your voice was scratchy from how much you cried before, you didn't like how your own father could choose to spend time with some lost kid over you voice sounded so full of pain.

Bruce and Alfred exhanged shocked glances, unsure of how to proceed.

Richard took a step forward, "I-"

"I will never forgive you or forget this. It-It is okay." You murmured tiredly, taking a step back instinctively and averting your gaze away from the older boy.

Alfred would gently pick you up and

That was it.

It may have only been two bad interactions, but these interactions would cement your relationship with Richard Grayson.

Or lack of a relationship, that is.

After this incident, you no longer played with your toys of stuffies to Alfred's concern.

You didn't really do anything until he gently suggested that you find a new hobby if perhaps you didn't enjoy your stuffies or tea party's by yourself anymore.

You would eventually chose a new hobby in a couple of months after this incident. That hobby would be (___________).

Alfred swore to himself to keep more of an eye on you after the incident since you were starting to act oddly.

Bruce would move on from this incident after a couple of weeks.

Richard? You didn't speak to him. He didn't speak to you. His room was moved away from yours after he hurt you.

You were scared of him and avoided him.

You had to give credit to Dick, though. He taught you something very important that you would never forget:

Lying is better than telling the truth, telling the truth would get you hurt.

Relationship Status!

Bruce Wayne (Your father): 0/100

-Why does he care more about some orphan over you?

Alfred Pennyworth (Your only friend): 85/100

-At least you can count on Alfred.

-He chose you.

-That means he loves you.

Richard Grayson (The one you fear): -30/100

-You don't like Richard.

-You're scared of him.

-Are you why my father doesn't spend time with me?

-He broke something inside of you.

A/N: You thought Damian would be the one to hurt you? NAHHHHHHHH THAT'S TOO COMMON IN THESE STORIES, HERE'S SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT. If you did cry my bad. If you end up hating Dick? GOOD. It means I did a good job. ALSO there will be a poll up today! It will be up for until maybe tomorrow and will be relevant to chapter 4 and what your hobbies will be! (This will totally not have consequences later on.) Taglist!

@the-dumber-scaramouche

@sirenetheblogger

@bellethesleepypotato

@mev-fizzah-writes

@tsxukikami