#don’t get me wrong i understand being healthy is important

[leodoriya]

grocery lists you get from your mom: sour cream NO SUGAR NO DAIRY NO ARTIFICIAL FLAVOURS NO GLUTEN NO GMO LOW CALORIE ORGANIC

grocery lists you get from your dad: party size doritos (PUT DOWNSTAIRS IN DESK CABINET SO MOM DOESNT SEE)

[notafunkiller]

tying you to me

Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.

Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.

“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.

“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”

Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”

“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”

“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.

“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”

He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…

“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”

“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”

“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.

“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”

“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”

“Night...”

*

The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.

You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.

“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”

“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.

Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”

You shake your head weakly.

“Look, I-”

“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”

You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”

The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.

“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.

What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?

“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”

“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”

“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”

“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.

“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”

“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”

“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”

“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”

“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”

Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”

“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”

“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”

“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”

You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.

“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.

He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.

“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”

“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.

He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...

“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”

“Then what is it?” You're confused.

“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.

“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”

“I... I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with this... with you.”

“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”

“I just... struggle with change.”

“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.

“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”

“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”

“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”

You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”

“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”

“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”

“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.

“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”

“W-what? No!”

“No?”

“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”

You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?

“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”

Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.

But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.

“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.

You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.

“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”

He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.

“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”

He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.

You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.

“For you. This is all for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!

“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.

“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as  he tries to pull them together.

“James!”

But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.

You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.

He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.

You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.

“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.

He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.

“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.

“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.

“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”

You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.

“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.

“You didn’t take them off.”

“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”

You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.

“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”

You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.

“James-”

“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”

You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”

Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.

“Good boy.”

That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:

“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”

“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”

That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.

He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents  prosthetic hand.

“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”

Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.

“You got a kink for my arm now?”

“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.

When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.

“You shave,” you say, surprised.

“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”

You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.

You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.

“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.

“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“Hands behind your back.”

“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.

“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”

No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.

You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.

He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.

“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, James.”

“Good girl.”

You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...

You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.

“Are you clean? Anything-”

“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”

You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.

“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”

You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?

You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.

“Won’t the neighbor mind?”

“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”

You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!

“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”

You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.

He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.

“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.

“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”

“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”

“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”

“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”

You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”

You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.

“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”

He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.

That hot ass…

“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”

And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.

“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”

He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.

You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.

“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”

You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.

“J-James...”

He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.

“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.

“Barnes, you’re heavy!”

His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.

Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.

After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.

“Gonna buy some cream.”

You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”

Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”

“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.

“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.

“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”

“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.

“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”

“Put it on, it’s freezing.”

“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.

“On.”

“Fine!”

He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”

“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”

You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”

“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“Me.”

“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”

“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”

[back2bluesidex]

Slide - The Consequences - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 

Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?

Word count: 2k+

Summary: 

"I barely make it down the stairs without panic Woah, I won't let it set me off"

Alternatively, 

You are no different than the cigarette between his lips - half-burnt and waiting to be turned into ashes bit by bit with time.

Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics

Warnings: Extreme angst. I repeat EXTREME angst. One very triggering concept (I'm not mentioning what since it might spoil stuff) but I have tried to keep it as implied as possible.

Minors do not interact!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)

Taglist requests are closed for now

A/N: This might break your heart because this is the angstiest chapter yet.

Read the next chapter

“Are you sure you don’t want to add anyone?” Hoseok asks for what feels like a thousand times. Everytime he asks this question, you get a sharp reminder of how you have no one to add as your emergency contact, how you are completely deserted from the rest of the world and how it’s no one’s fault but yours. 

You nod your head in affirmation. To dim the helplessness in your eyes, you smile a little. 

But Hoseok is not convinced as it seems, he only sighs harder. The pen in his hand fall on the patient chart as he intertwines his fingers and looks at you as if he is trying to read your troubles out aloud.

You don’t like it. You don’t like the way he understands you are nowhere near being mentally healthy for motherhood.

“Y/N?” he calls you firmly. The lack of any formal suffix or prefix shocks you momentarily. “You really don’t want to let the father know?” 

You suck in a deep breath. You want to let Yoongi know. You of course do. You want him to be happy, you want him to say “let’s do this together”, you want him to love you back more and more and more and more. 

But you know, this is hardly possible even in your wildest of dreams. 

“He’s happy with the person he loves. I- I don’t want this baby to look like an excuse to come between them. Also…” Marrying, having kids - all these, freaks me out. Yoongi’s words ring in your head like a loud alarm, threatening you to go deaf at any given moment.

“Also?” Hoseok urges you to continue. 

“Nothing.” you give him another weak smile. 

He sighs again. Probably he, too, is done with you and your nonchalant stubbornness. 

“In that case, I am enlisting myself as your emergency contact.” He takes his pen in his fingers again and starts putting down his number in your chart. 

Your eyes go wide, “but will that be okay? I mean-” 

“This is okay. Don’t worry. We usually do this in exceptional cases.” Hoseok gives you an assuring smile. 

“Thank you.” you mumble, embarrassment eats you away. 

“That’s alright, Y/N. don’t forget to take your meds and eat a lot of fruits. Okay?” 

“Okay.”

“And also, just so you know, excessive mental stress is harmful in earlier stages of pregnancy.” 

Your chest tightens. 

“Okay.”  

You usually keep your personal cell silent. Because there is simply no reason not to. 

No one is going to call you and mull over why you aren’t picking up your calls and if anything bad has happened to you or not. 

Not even your mother. She has far more important responsibilities than you have ever managed to be. 

You have a few contacts and a group chat with your high school friends, which you check occasionally. 

That is why your heart threatens to beat out of your chest when you see unread notifications on the surface of your personal phone, that too, from Yoongi. 

He had only messaged you a few times before in this number and all of those were barely a sentence. 

But today he had sent you not one or two but a total set of five different texts, which read: 

Yoongi (15:30): “I heard you are out with an emergency again?”  Yoongi (15:36): “What is it, Y/N? Is something seriously wrong?”  Yoongi (15:38): “Please, let’s talk.”  Yoongi (15:50): “Will you please stop ignoring me?”  Yoongi (16:05): “I will be waiting for you at the terrace. If you can, come before 5.” 

Your eyes close as you leave a loud exhale out of your mouth. For a moment you question your decision of coming back to the company and make up for the time you were out. You could have just taken a sick leave. Or maybe if you checked your phone half an hour ago, you would have avoided this whole ordeal. 

But right now you are in the parking lot of the building and you will have to go inside. 

And you know very well, once you are inside, the invisible threads of your body that are connected to Min Yoongi will start pulling you towards the terrace. 

It’s 4:24 now.. So he is still supposedly waiting at the terrace. 

Maybe Yoongi is right. You should talk to him. What will you say, though, you don’t know. 

Or maybe you should just listen to him, as always, let him do the talking and see how his speeches have changed since the last time, since the time when both of you were alone. 

It’s only you, who is alone now, who is troubled. 

You have always loved Yoongi’s side profile, the soft slope of his nose, the half crescent of his lips, but then again, there’s hardly anything about Yoongi you have not not loved. 

However, right now as you watch him in the glow of the setting sun, with a half-burnt cigarette in between his lips, you wish you wouldn’t have loved him so much. 

Because, now, you are no different than the cigarette between his lips - half-burnt and waiting to be turned into ashes bit by bit with time. 

But can you though? Your life is not only yours anymore. Your life is now intertwined with another living mechanism and you are far too lost in your head to be prepared for it. 

Do you really want the baby? Or do you just want to keep a trace of a fleeting thing that Yoongi had for you? 

If it’s the second then isn’t it unfair for the unborn life? 

Will you be able to love it when you can’t even love yourself? When you can’t associate anyone else with the word ‘love’ other than Yoongi himself? 

“Hey. you came..” Yoongi’s voice pierce through the dark clouds of your thoughts. His words are laced with doubts, there is a frown in between his brows and now that he is facing you completely, you can see bags under his eyes. 

You don’t even want to think about what's keeping him up at night. 

“You wanted to talk.” you finally start walking towards him with legs so heavy that it feels as if your body will fall over their weight. 

Yoongi crushes his cigarette under his shoes, like you have let him crush your hearts in those pretty hands of his. 

Once there is no smoke lingering in the air, you step near his vicinity. 

“Yeah. but the way you have been ignoring me, I didn’t think you would come.” there is a hint of hurt in his voice. 

You don’t reply anything, rather you let your eyes get lost in the maze of concrete ahead, tall buildings aspiring to touch the sky but failing regardless. 

From your peripheral vision you can see Yoongi stepping closer to you, opening his mouth to say something and then closing it again. He probably shuts his eyes for a brief second then opens it with determination burning in them. 

“Y/N, what's wrong? I heard you have been taking leaves for regular checkups at the hospital? Are you… are you hurting?” Yoongi speaks with one of those soft tones that he hardly uses for anyone. 

It’s not the first time he is using it for you, but it sways you a little anyway. 

“I am fine, Yoongi. But I don’t understand what is up with you? Why are you suddenly so worried about me? Why are you suddenly caring as if… as if I mean something to you?” you ask him calmly, waiting for a valid answer. 

“I have always cared about you.” 

“But that was when we were- we were sleeping, right? Now you don’t have any obligations towards me. So please. Please stop confusing me. Please stop making me a fool.” you let a lone tear escape from your eye. This time doing nothing to stop it. 

“How is this even confusing, Y/N? Friends care for each other. Don’t they?” Yoongi’s voice weaves and you don’t know why. 

You chuckle dryly, “sadly enough, you are not just my friend. I am in love with you and you know that too.” 

Yoongi’s eyes widen. He takes a tentative step away from you as if staying near you will turn him into a stone; and that breaks your already broken heart even more. 

“Y/N- I-”

“I know. I know you don’t- You don’t have to. I just- I am a fool. I am sorry.” Now you are sobbing uncontrollably. Your eyes give out after holding onto your tears for a year. 

Yoongi takes a step towards you, holds you by your shoulders but now his touches burn. Your body burns under his fingers and you want to run away - run away as far as possible. 

“Y/N” his voice trembles yet again.

You hastily wipe your tears with your sleeves and run away in the opposite direction towards the flight of stairs. 

He calls your name to stop you but doesn’t come running behind you. You note that. 

Yoongi will never chase you. You are not Gyuri after all. 

Once you are half down the stairs, you sit down, try to control your breathing, convince yourself that it’s not good for the baby. 

The baby. The baby. The baby. 

Should you not tell Yoongi about the baby? At least inform him? And then he can decide if he wants to accept it with you or leave it behind too? Just like you? 

But this is not yours alone. He came to you that night and left a life inside you as an aftermath.

You stand up, deciding to take a shot, not for you but for the unborn life, which deserves the equal part of attention from its other parent too. 

If there are consequences. You will face it all. 

Climbing up the stairs, as you take a few steps towards where you left Yoongi behind. 

You see him again. 

But this time, he is not alone. He is with Gyrui, who is holding on to his body so tightly as if her life depends on it.  

Their lips are molded with each other. 

Her fingers are lost in his dark locks, his hands are placed on her side as if he is not sure what he is doing. 

You stand there. 

You stand there watching them numbly. And when you decide to turn and leave, you have nothing left inside of you. 

Your body is now a shell of something that looks like you. 

You decide to take the stairs all the way down until your legs give out. 

Your back slides down the wooden door of your bedroom. 

You let out a thunderous scream and that is closely followed by wailing. 

You cry. You cry for all the times you have loved Yoongi. You cry for all the times he didn’t even look at you. You cry for the time when Gyuri came back. You cry for the time when Yoongi left that night. You cry for today when he clearly chose Gyuri over you even when you knew this was your destiny. 

You cry because Yoongi can’t be yours and today finally ends a lot of things. 

You don’t know for how long you cry. But all the tears have left you feeling weary. 

You climb on your bed and drift off to a slumber. 

And you dream. 

You dream of yourself, and Yoongi and a baby hand that’s holding his fingers. Yoongi is smiling, he is happy. 

Then you dream of a big wave, drowning you - Yoongi and the hand of the baby have disappeared. 

When you wake up, your body is drenched in sweat, so much so that even the back of your thighs feel wet. 

The pain in your body is piercing.

But when you manage to sit up - you see a pool of blood soaked in your clothes and sheets. 

The last trace of Yoongi that you were trying hard to preserve, is gone too now.  

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[thedaythatwas]

I’m just thinking long and hard about the way Akiren and Akechi are written as foils for each other. Because of course, the game drives it home for us that the two are narrative foils: Akiren is the champion of free will who finds power through his friendships, Akechi represents the ways society binds us. He is chained by his desire to be wanted (importantly, by the wrong people– I’ll get to that).

At first glance, Akiren and Akechi’s point of divergence has to do with their relationships– Akiren has confidants, Akechi doesn’t, and this is the deciding factor in Akiren’s victory over Akechi on November 20th and in the engine room. Still, while this is certainly part of what makes their relationship important as a narrative device, it’s not the full picture. That, I think, has more to do with the fact that they both desperately want the very relationships that are used to foil them. They have common ground, and that’s what makes the emotional beats of their differences hit as hard as they do.

Even though Akechi doesn’t have the close bonds that Akiren does with his friends, he is defined as a character by his desire to belong. He wants to be praised and given everything he feels he was denied by Shido’s callous disregard for his mother and society’s unjust treatment of him after her death. He was a self-proclaimed “undesirable child” who spent his young adult life doing everything in his power to never feel unwanted again. He literally spells it out in his engine room monologue– “I was extremely particular about my life, my grades, my public image, so someone would want me around!”

Akiren, like Akechi, begins his character arc as a social outcast. Unlike Akechi, who appeals to systemic power to claim social clout and chase his own sense of belonging (the Shido revenge plot, which would, uhm, theoretically end with Shido acknowledging his son’s worth), Akiren finds family with other outcasts. All of the Phantom Thieves understand his struggle, and because of this they foster a sense of understanding and community that Akechi never gets to experience.

It is important to note that these bonds are deepened when Akiren helps those around him. While there’s absolutely nothing bad about doing things for the people you care about– in fact, most would argue that this is what makes a friendship a good one– we can take a reasonable guess that Akiren craves the love of those around him just a bit more than is healthy for him. He plays therapist for half of Tokyo– he stretches himself absurdly thin for the sake of his friends. That’s a bit much to ask of one person, but Akiren seems to demand it of himself. This is the nature of confidant routes as a game mechanic, of course, but hey, reading into game mechanics is important to getting a solid reading of who Akiren is behind the mask!

The crux of it is, Akiren and Akechi are both lonely characters. Their desire to be loved quite literally drives the narrative of the game, both in terms of plot and gameplay. What makes their foiling so tragic is the fact that Akechi so obviously wants what he has himself determined he can’t have. He says as much in the engine room when he questions why Akiren has things that he doesn’t, despite being (as he says) criminal trash living in an attic.

And yet, Akechi’s isolation is frankly the result of his own decisions. He is the one who chooses to work for Shido. He is the one who acts on a worldview that requires he keep his cards close to his chest to win— against Shido and against the world that wronged him— and to be considered desirable (even despite the fact that this mindset obviously works against satiating his hunger to be loved. He really needs to go to therapy, but I digress).

I don’t think Akechi even knows how to go about claiming what Akiren managed to. Akechi has agency in the actions he takes, absolutely– he would be furious about any suggestion to the contrary– but in many ways, the choices he feels himself able to make are constrained by his circumstances and the lessons imparted to him by his past.

All this to say, Akechi and Akiren aren’t different because Akechi doesn’t want teammates, or even friends. He sincerely wants everything Akiren has. He tells us this in the engine room. He shoots himself in the foot by prioritizing approval from society and love from Shido above other relationships. But thinking from inside his shoes, what else was he going to do? Where else would he have thought to turn to find what he wanted? He was dealt a horrible hand and he played his cards according to the rule book he was given. If the world were just, Akiren and Akechi wouldn’t be foils. It’s the injustice implicit in that that really drives home the point I think P5 is trying to make when it foils Akiren and Akechi in the first place. It also, personally, has been making me want to scream all day.

On a related note, this is also the exact reason that Akechi being the one to bring up that things might have been different if only he met Akiren a few years sooner makes me want to throw things, but this post is long enough. I’ll save all that for later!

[bangtaninborderland]

JJK - SEVEN (JK POV)

Summary: you know it isn't healthy, you know you should leave, but you can't and neither can he.

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, kind of toxic relationship.

A/N: there was a slight demand to see jungkooks pov and I thought I’d indulge it! I will be updating all other stories in the next month please bare with me! Once again be kind, I tried to write this as best as I could I tried to think how my ex would be.

BTS MASTERLIST

READER POV

He’d been stuck on this song for weeks, and what had started as a moment of inspiration to create fizzled out into nothing more than an unfinished track giving him a headache.

He felt his phone buzz and he knew even before checking that it was you,

Baby 🖤: I’m home, will you be here for dinner?

He sighs, leaning back in his chair. Realistically he could go home, relax and eat a home-cooked meal with you but then he would have to come back here tomorrow and he really didn’t want to do that. Of course, he felt like an asshole always being at work but that wasn’t something he could control and he knew that you knew that.

He shook his head as he typed his response.

Him: No. Working late, don’t wait up.

Baby🖤: Okay, Love You

Him: Lo- “Jungkook?”

Jungkook was startled at the sight of Yoongi leaning against the door, closing his phone before answering him. “What’s wrong Hyung?”

“Mingyu is here asking for you.”

Jungkook frowned, the other hadn’t called him to let him know he would be coming by. “Why?”

Yoongi shrugged holding the door open for him. “I don’t know, just said it was important.”

“Oh, thanks Hyung.” Jungkook smiled at him before they went their separate ways,

Yoongi turns off into his studio and Jungkook to the waiting area.

“Jungkookie” he was met with the sighs of a sniffling Mingyu, he had clearly been crying.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can we get a drink?”

Jungkook sat next to him, shaking his head. “I’m supposed to be working, I told YN I wouldn’t be home so I can finish the song today. You can talk to me if something is bothering you, I have a little time.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now I just don’t want to be alone.” He paused, eyeing Jungkook before continuing. “If you’re busy I understand.”

He should go back to the studio, he should tell Mingyu he has to work but he doesn’t. He doesn’t because he has to be a good friend, he can come back tomorrow and work because he has to be a good employee and then he can work late to complete his weekend work so he can take the weekend off so he could be a good boyfriend. Jungkook always had to just be good, he had to do everything perfectly.

“It’s okay we can, let me just get my jacket and shut everything off.” Jungkook smiled, patting Mingyus's leg before going to finish up.

It doesn’t take him long and soon enough he is in the passenger seat of Mingyus's car on the way to whatever restaurant the other had chosen.

“How are things between you and your girlfriend?” Mingyu questions.

“It’s good I guess.” Jungkook sighs, not really wanting to open that can of worms. “I’m not giving her enough.”

“What do you mean?” Mingyus eyes flicker to Jungkook before focusing back on the road.

Jungkook leans his head on the window, sighing. “She needs so much attention and reassurance. I know I’m supposed to be the one who gives that to her but I can’t, I don’t even have the time to reassure myself everything is going to be okay. I keep thinking about how easy it would be to break it off and just go back to focusing on work with no distractions.”

“You seem pretty set on that idea.” Mingyu responded. “Have you spoken to her about it?”

“No.” Jungkook huffed. “I can’t, if I do she will just shut down her own needs to try and support me. It makes me feel worse knowing she ignores the things she wants, needs and deserves just to keep me happy. I don’t fucking know what to do.”

“Why don’t you ask for a break?” Mingyu suggests, pulling into the carpark of their usual hangout. “I’m sure she would understand.”

“I can’t do that if I want to leave then I can’t keep her hanging on to hope that may never come. She deserves the world, I just can’t be the one to give it to her.”

The car turns off and it falls silent before Mingyu clears his throat, leaning a little closer to Jungkook. “If you know you can’t give her what she wants then let her go.”

Jungkook didn’t reply, he couldn't. Mingyu was fucking right and he hated it more than anything in the world because she deserved better, deserved the fucking noon and the stars but he couldn’t fulfil that but he also couldn’t leave because as much as he could talk shit about whatever issues they have he loved her to his core, depended on her in so many ways he didn’t know who he would be without her.

Even if he should let her go he won’t, because he can’t stomach the thought he of being alone without the love of his life. He can’t stand the idea of someone else loving her, touching her, being the reason for her smile.

The time flew once they were inside the restaurant come bar, drink going down with a burn enough to make him forget about his inner torment regarding his relationship. Mingyu dropped him home with the promise of seeing him again soon.

Jungkook fumbled with the keypad a few times before getting it right, he wasn’t drunk just a little buzzed.

He was taken aback by how dark everything was, usually, you’d still have at least the kitchen light on. He frowned slipping his shoes off and heading straight the the bedroom. Maybe she had gone to sleep? He frowned again seeing the sheets untouched.

“Marco?” He called out, knowing if you were in the apartment it would get your attention.

He couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest and the memory of teaching you the child’s game. “Polo” he heard you call back.

“I thought you were working late?” She frowned, holding out a hand to him.

Jungkook groaned, not ready for a scolding as he slouched against the couch. “Yeah, well we finished around 7 so Mingyu asked if I wanted to get drinks.” He shrugged. “Don’t get all mad.”

“I’m not mad kook.” She was quick to reassure but Jungkook knew her better than that, she wasn’t mad she was upset and that was far worse. “I just missed you.”

And just like that he was sober, the fuzziness shrouding his brain courtesy of the alcohol he had ingested cleared up instantly. “Fuck I know okay, I know but I don’t need you putting pressure on me too I’m already working hard twenty-four seven, you want me to come home and be the perfect boyfriend to you but where is my time? Where is the time for me? It’s selfish of you to always put your wants first.” He knew he should shut up, knew none of that was true but he couldn’t stop himself.

“No I just meant that I missed you I didn’t-“ she sighed, the argument dying on her tongue. “I’m sorry.”

“You always say that. You just ruined a good day…god” he huffed, a hand running through his hair.

The second the words were out of his mouth he felt a twinge of guilt pang through him. Everything had come out wrong he should have been apologising but all he could feel was anger, anger at himself for being a fucking awful partner even though she had only ever been good to him and for whatever reason he still hadn’t figured out himself he found it all too easy to take it out on her.

“I’m going to shower and then I’ll sleep.” He knew walking away wasn’t right, they should talk, and he should apologise but he couldn’t look at her when she had that glimmer of hurt in her eyes, especially because he’s the one that put it there.

He stepped under the water, his head thrown forward as he let it wash away his worries. As much as he tries to focus on the sound of water pelting off the glass he can’t stop thinking about what just unfolded.

He should walk away, he should let her go so she can find someone who makes her happy but he won’t, and he knows deep inside she won’t leave either, no matter how much of an asshole he is.

He’s sad, although not surprised, to see the bed empty. On days like this, he knew you chose to wait up until he slept and he wasn’t going to interrupt that so he slid under the covers, bordering on that space of awake and sleep until he felt you slide in beside him. He pulled her closer to him, needing your touch before whispering an “I love you.” Placing a soft kiss on your head.

There was so much more he could say, so much he should say but he settled for the three words.

The next morning Jungkook woke up first which was a surprising occurrence but he decided to make the best of it. He quickly showered and got dressed before setting off for the kitchen. Making breakfast although a small act of love was where he decided to start making amends.

He flicked on a playlist of songs Taehyung had made him before letting himself be carried away by the copious chopping and frying.

He noticed her hovering in the doorway. “Good morning baby.”

Jungkook swore his heart grew at the sight of her smile. “Good morning.”

“Come here.” He called out, turning down the stove before opening his arms. He felt himself relax once his body was pressed against her as though it was made to be there. “I’m sorry for last night.”

“It’s okay.” She whispers but he knows it isn’t, regardless of what she says it isn’t okay, and it will never be okay.

Jungkook pushes her back a little, taking in her forced smile before asking “Is it really? Do you forgive me?”

“I’ll always forgive you.” She responded without any hesitation, that was a true answer as unhealthy as it was he knew she meant it with her entirety.

He knew he wasn’t worthy of you, knew that you loved and cared for him far beyond that which he deserved so he promised, he promised himself he would try, he would try to be better, be a fraction of the person she deserved and even if he couldn’t he knew it would be okay because they would always be there, needing one another.

“I’m in love with you.” Jungkook breathed, shifting his head and tilting her chin up to kiss her.

“I’ll love you for the rest of my life.” She mumbled back, a bright smile on her face.

And just like that everything fell back into their normal.

[necrotic-nephilim]

"I don't care how much you hate me - you need to eat!"

DickTim during Bruce's Lost In Time phase but with Dick stopping Tim from leaving💕

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

fucked up DickTim during Bruce's lost in time era my beloved. this is 2k of *very* dead dove DickTim, with one-sided feelings from Dick and unreliable narrator vibes. it is a smidge OOC, just bc of how dark Dick gets, but i think i kept it best i could. enjoy <3

It wasn’t supposed to go this far.

Dick thought he was doing this to honor Bruce. The last thing Bruce would’ve wanted was to see Tim drive himself over the edge and go too far, all for a fruitless chase to bring Bruce back from the dead. And sure, maybe deep down Dick knew he reflected some of Bruce’s worst traits. The obsessive control. The worrying to the point of being overbearing.

It came with the capes and spandex territory. Especially now that Dick had decided to man up and put on that damned cowl.

But even at Bruce’s worst, Dick was pretty sure he wouldn’t dare go this far.

Dick knew it was wrong. What he didn’t know was why he couldn’t stop himself. Why the gnawing guilt was so easy to compartmentalize and why every good point Tim had got ignored by Dick’s logical side, brushed off by one simple mantra.

He was doing this for Tim’s own good.

All of this was to protect Tim from doing something he would regret.

Dick had done brain scans, had Tim magically checked up, and even managed to get him to properly talk to a psychiatrist. Everything came back normal. Tim was perfectly healthy.

So maybe this was something that had always been a part of Tim. Maybe it was a bad idea for any of them to have let Tim into the vigilante world so young.

Some people could handle it. Some people couldn’t. Dick had seen firsthand how it broke minds and ruined lives. He’d seen people turn to drugs, cults, murder, and god knew what else just to try to cope with it.

That didn’t make Tim weak. Tim Drake was the furthest thing from weak, and Dick would fight anyone on that.

This was just a hard life to cope with. Sometimes, people needed support through the worst of it.

That’s what Dick was doing.

Giving support.

“I don’t care how much you hate me- you need to eat!” Dick stepped back, dodging Tim’s attempt to kick his feet out. The bowl of salad Dick had set next to Tim was completely ignored.

Dick had learned not to give Tim hot food after Tim flung potato soup at his head the first time, chunks of potato stuck to his hair.

Tim’s scowl was lethal. Technically, he wasn’t restrained. He could move freely around the manor and do whatever he wanted.

It was the shock collar that kept him from leaving the grounds or breaking into the Batcave.

Dick had decided that would be the most humane way. The shock was only momentarily painful, it was designed to knock Tim unconscious if he tried to get somewhere he wasn’t supposed to. The collar had taken three tries before Dick found a lock Tim couldn’t pick, and a few more unfortunate incidents of Tim finding weak spots in the barrier.

But Dick always found Tim and brought him back home.

That was what was important.

The fact Tim kept trying to break out and go to god knew where on some fruitless quest to find a dead man made Dick more secure about this decision.

He was doing this to protect Tim. Once Tim worked through the worst of his grief, all this would be in the past. Something they would laugh at.

Hopefully.

It was like one of Tim’s contingency plans. Really, he of all people should understand.

But he didn’t. Which was what hurt Dick the most, the angry look in Tim’s eyes and the way his fists clenched when Dick came into Tim’s room. Tim had access to the whole manor, but he stuck mostly to his room, refusing to talk to anyone.

Especially Dick.

And now, it seemed, his latest tactic was a hunger strike.

“I’ll let you look over the burglary case we’re working on,” Dick offered. “I’ll bring you all the files and your computer if you just…” he gestured to the salad, “eat something.”

That had worked, in the beginning. Dick could coax good behavior out of Tim by offering to let Tim help with whatever case Dick was facing. It took a load off of Dick’s back and gave Tim something to focus on.

Of course, Dick couldn’t leave Tim’s computer with him. The first time Dick did that, Tim managed to break all of the firewalls and safeties put on it to start a case file about Bruce. Dick had to delete everything and only allow Tim monitored access from that point on.

After that, Tim really didn’t like Dick.

“Can’t you just go back to ignoring me?” Tim snapped. He sounded… resigned. Emotionless in a way he hadn’t been, like all the fight he’d been putting up for weeks was finally going out.

“Ignoring you?” Dick frowned. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut at the words. He kept a wide berth from Tim, wary of more punches being thrown, and decided to sit at Tim’s desk chair, a good few feet from where Tim was on his bed. “What makes you think I’m ignoring you?”

Tim scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You only talk to me to ask if I’ve dropped the Bruce thing yet, or to try to force self-care on me. The rest of the time you ignore me so you don’t have to face your own guilt.”

Dick violently shook his head. “That’s not-” he sighed, running a hand over his face- “I’m just busy, I promise. Between being Batman, managing Bruce’s estate, and trying to handle Damian, I just…” his voice trailed off. So many things to balance. He still didn’t know how Bruce managed it all. “I haven’t made enough time for you. I’m sorry.”

He decided to take on the burden of helping Tim. It was his responsibility and Tim was right, Dick was doing a piss poor job of taking care of him.

No wonder he pushed away Dick’s attempts to reconcile. It must’ve come across as half-assed, in Tim’s eyes.

Dick wished Bruce was here. He would’ve known the right way to handle this.

“Don’t start now,” Tim said icily. He picked up a book from his nightstand and opened it, pointedly not looking at Dick anymore. “Just leave me alone.”

“Will you eat first?” Dick asked. “If you just eat, I’ll go. I promise.”

With a loud sigh, Tim snapped his book shut. He picked up the salad Dick brought and shoveled down mouthfuls, all while glaring at Dick. Once the bowl was empty he set it back down and spread his hands, waiting.

Dick didn’t leave.

He wasn’t going to abandon Tim.

Dick stood up and Tim relaxed for just a moment before he realized Dick was walking toward Tim’s bed instead of the door. Slowly, like he was approaching a wild animal, Dick crept forward. He chose to sit on the foot of the bed, still far enough away from Tim to give him personal space.

“Tim-”

“Out. Now. You promised.”

Dick ran his fingers through his hair. “I know, but-”

“What do you want from me?” Tim almost yelled the words. “Do you want me to just say I don’t believe Bruce is alive? Will you finally leave me alone, then?”

“Can you say it under a truth serum?”

Tim went quiet, grinding his jaw.

“I want you to get better,” Dick sighed.

“What happens when I get better, then?” Tim challenged. He moved to sit cross-legged on the bed. So close to Dick that Dick could reach out and touch him, but emotionally, they were miles apart and it hurt Dick’s chest. “You ‘fix me’-” he put finger quotes around the words- “to your liking, then set me free?”

“Don’t talk about yourself like you’re an animal.” Dick frowned, fist clenching at the idea Tim thought of himself that way.

Tim just stared at him. “Then don’t treat me like one.” He raised a hand and tapped the collar.

It looked like it had new scratch marks on it.

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dick said. He tried to find the words. It was so hard to explain it when Tim wasn’t listening to him. He wasn’t even given a chance. Dick tried to reach out. For once, Tim didn’t pull away. He was completely rigid under Dick’s touch, though. His hand rested on Tim’s arm, thumb stroking back and forth. “You know I’m doing this because… because I’m worried about you. And I care, Tim.”

“No you don’t,” Tim leaned away from Dick, but didn’t pull his arm free. “Whatever version of me exists in your head-”

“Tim-”

“-isn’t real,” Tim ignored him and kept going. “You won’t even listen to my theory-”

“Tim!” Dick tightened his grip, ignoring the small wince of pain that came out of Tim. “I’m not entertaining that kind of talk.” He tried to be firm but loving with his tone. But even Dick could hear the anger and frustration that was bleeding off of him. “This is practically self harm.”

“I know I’m right,” Tim mumbled. He wouldn’t look at Dick. “Will you just leave, now?”

Against his better judgment, Dick stood up. He had to patrol soon. “I’m sorry. We’ll talk after-”

“I’m going to sleep,” Tim snapped. “No, we won’t.”

Dick tried to throw his hands up in frustration, but he was still holding onto Tim’s arm.

He didn’t want to let go.

He knew Tim was waiting for him to let go, but Dick couldn’t force his fingers to release. He just stared for a moment, breathing hard.

Dick was doing this out of love.

And now, he loved Tim too much to want to let go of him.

Did he have to patrol tonight? He was pretty sure the Birds of Prey were in Gotham.

“Dick,” Tim said carefully, starting to scoot away from him. The apprehension in his voice was unsteady, eyes narrowed. He was always too on edge. “I’m tired. Just go on patrol.”

Instead of letting go, Dick lifted his other hand and held Tim’s face. Tim flinched but stopped inching away. He was completely still, barely even breathing.

He looked afraid of Dick.

Dick’s chest clenched. He wished he could get Tim to understand. Dick leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Tim’s forehead.

He wanted to kiss somewhere else, somewhere a few inches lower and just as unobtainable. That was a feeling Dick buried deep, deep inside of him.

It wasn’t why he was doing this.

A hand pressed against Dick’s chest. Trying to push Dick away, but for just a moment, the pressure and warmth almost made Dick shudder. Tim hadn’t properly trained in a while.

He wasn’t actually strong enough to push Dick off of him. If Dick wanted to, Tim couldn’t have stopped him.

But their relationship was already fractured. It would take a long time of repairing and letting Tim heal before Dick could even try pursuing those feelings.

Tim had once had a childhood crush on Dick, though. So he was pretty sure they could work their way up to it, be something more.

Dick pulled away. He let go of Tim’s arm and allowed himself one stroke of Tim’s hair. It was getting a little long, brushing against Tim’s shoulders.

The entire time, Tim remained perfectly still. But his eyes got wider and wider, the way they always did when he had just figured out a case.

Dick was getting too close. He needed to pull back.

“You still have the spare comm link?” Dick asked.

Tim didn’t answer. He just kept staring with those wide, searching eyes. He looked a little pale. Dick should get him some iron supplements, Tim becoming anemic is the last thing Dick wanted.

“Use it if you need me for anything,” Dick continued. He gave Tim what he hoped was a calming smile. “Get some sleep, Tim. I love you.”

He turned and walked out of Tim’s room. Slowed to crawl at a snail’s pace, hoping for an answer from Tim. He would take any kind of answer.

But Tim kept silent, even as Dick took his time intentionally, slowly closing the door. Dick just sighed, turning down the hall to head down to the Batcave.

Someday, he’d get through to Tim. Dick would find a way.

Someday soon.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 12

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Roger: Kate, I got good news. A new Cursed One may have been found!

Kate: Hey, don’t just burst into my room without knocking!

I pulled the front of my blouse tightly over my chest and glared at Roger.

Roger: You were in the middle of changing? My bad.

(...You don’t look sorry at all)

Kate: It’s fine. Just give me a second.

I turned away from him and finished tying up my blouse. I sighed and turned back to face Roger.

Kate: So it’s true that a new Cursed One was found?

Roger: Yeah, it’s true. Last night, a young man named Lance Brown was arrested for sneaking into a butcher’s shop and eating the meat. Here’s the important part. When he was about to be arrested, he made all the police officers faint just by hugging them.

(That definitely sounds like a Cursed One’s ability…)

Kate: That’s not something the average human can do.

Roger: Yeah, that’s why I’m thinking there’s a high possibility it’s a Cursed One. Apparently when Victor heard about it, he paid for his release, and ordered him to provide information in return.

(As expected from Victor. Making the necessary investments…This is the palace’s Grim Reaper)

(Even so)

Kate: Hehe, you look happy, Roger.

Roger: Of course I am. Cursed ones are born all over the world, but there aren’t that many to begin with. Just meeting them is a valuable sample. Besides, plenty of Cursed Ones die without even realizing that they’re cursed.

From what I read in Roger’s research, because the existence of Cursed Ones isn’t public knowledge, many commit suicide because they think there’s something wrong with them, turn to crime, or get falsley accused like Alec was.

Kate: I think there’s a lot of happiness in this world we don’t know about. However, there’s some misfortunes that happen when you don’t know yourself. But… It would be a shock to suddenly go out and tell someone “You’re a Cursed One.”

Perhaps it was because of his rational personality, but Roger had a habit of being too direct.

A pro was that he was to the point and easy to understand. A con, well…that.

Roger: When I was a kid, I said something so suddenly to Alfons that it left a lasting mark on him. I won’t make the same mistake again. We’ll see how things go when we go see him today.

Kate: “We” are going to see him?

Roger: What are you so surprised for? You’re my assistant aren’t you?

(Well, according to the robin growth map…)

(I remember the promotion going from dogsbody -> dog -> assistant -> partner -> lover)

So I guess I’ve ranked up from dog to assistant.

Kate: Though I returned all the materials you let me borrow, I never said I read through them all…

Roger: You didn’t need to. You’re not the type to demand rewards or recognition for your work. But I know you’re a hard worker that never skimps on things.

That honestly makes me happy

Thank you +4 +4

I’m uncomfortable 

The sudden compliment made my cheeks warm.

Kate: …Thank…you.

Roger: Hm? I didn’t hear you.

Kate: Thank you! And don’t lie about your hearing.

Roger: Haha. Come on, I got a carriage waiting. Let’s go, Kate.

Kate: Wait for me Roger!

Clothes already changed, I rushed to shove my notebook and handkerchief into my bag before following him.

Kate: Huh, but…We can’t let outsiders know we’re Crown. What do we say to him?

Roger: Leave it to me. Well, I’ll need a lot of help from you too.

(Huh…—?)

--

And so Roger and I went to see the young man who was arrested last night for sneaking into a butcher’s shop.

Roger: Nice to meet you Lance Brown. I’m Roger Barel, a doctor. And this is…

Kate: I’m Doctor Roger’s a-assistant, Kate.

Roger: We’re employed by the royal family. Our job is to interview criminals and provide support in a healthy rehabilitation. Right, Kate?

Kate: Y-yes! So I hope we can chat without being too formal.

(Another appropriate lie, even if it is to hide Crown’s existence…)

While I was worrying over taking part in a lie, Lance hung his head apologetically.

Lance: No, I apologize for the trouble I’ve caused. They saved me by paying for my release. I’ll tell you whatever I can. I don’t want to commit crimes so carelessly again.

Roger: Then let’s start with drawing some blood…

Lance: Drawing?? Blood??

Roger: Yeah, I need to draw blood for mental stability.

(More appropriate lies)

However, knowing what Roger’s trying to achieve, I couldn’t blame him for lying.

After that, I continued to help Roger gather information on the Cursed One under the guise of an “interview”— 

(That’s…?)

Suddenly, I noticed a painting in Lance’s art studio.

Kate: Lance, you’re a painter, right?

Lance: Ah, yes. An amateur…

Taking a look around the room, I saw a couple of canvases on easels.

Kate: Most of the paintings are of landscapes. Ah, but there’s some portraits too…

My eyes were drawn to a portrait of a red-haired girl.

Kate: …Beautiful. Is she someone important to you, Lance?

Lance: Huh.

Kate: Ah, well…even with untrained eyes, I could tell a lot of care was put into the painting.

Lance: …Yes. The young lady is someone I like. She works at a bakery near the studio…

Lance pointed out to the street from his studio on the second floor.

Lance: I always watch her from here.

Roger: So you don’t even know this lady’s name?

Lance: I’m embarrassed to admit it…

The simple-looking Lance blushed.

Roger: You’re wasting time hesitating. Just go talk to her.

Kate: That’s terrible advice! This is why you’re inconsiderate.

Roger: Oh, as expected from a teacher who claims that she can teach me about being in love. How would you go about it, Kate?

Kate: Me?

(We’re not here to discuss this…)

Kate: I’d start with seasonal greetings and then gradually work my way up from there…

Roger: …Huh, that’s no good. With your method time will go by in an instant and they’ll end up in their graves before they know it.

Kate: Wha?!

Lance, who had been listening to our conversation with wide eyes suddenly burst into laughter.

Lance: Pfft, hahahaha! Ah, sorry. I was so nervous given how you work for royalty, but you two are so…charming.

Roger: I’m charming? Artists have a strange way of seeing things.

Kate: Hehe.

Lance: Sorry to stop the fun advice you’ve given me, but…I’m fine with the way things are. I’m just happy watching her from here. …If I just watch her, my love won’t hurt her.

Lance muttered and then turned to us with a smile.

Lance: But enough about me! I’m sorry for asking this out of the blue, you two are lovers, aren’t you?

Kate: Huh?

Lance: You two appear to be very close and you don’t act like coworkers…am I wrong?

Kate and Roger: You’re wrong!/That’s right.

Lance: Oh dear, who should I believe?

Kate: Ugh, what are you even talking about, Roger?

Roger: Don’t get all shy just because we’re in company.

I started arguing with Roger again in front of Lance, who just smiled in mild amusement.

Kate: Lance, don’t believe a thing he says. Believe me!

Lance: Ahahaha!

-- 

After chatting with Lance, we got back on the carriage to Crown Castle.

Roger: Hey, hey. Don’t pout. I’ll buy you some jerky.

(Jerky is a treat for Ale…)

Kate: Stop treating me like a dog. Geez…you’re always saying the most random things.

The pointless arguments continue all the way back to Crown Castle, but…apart from that, Lance sincerely answered our questions.

Kate: Roger, Lance really is a Cursed One, isn’t he?

Roger: I haven’t seen his ability in practice yet so I can’t say for sure. Moreover, even if you saw the ability, you can’t say for sure what the curse is.

Kate: Why is that?

Roger: You know why this has become known as “Fairytale Curses”. Novelists and playwrights around the world created works based on existing “Cursed Ones”. It’s said to be what started them off.

~~ Flashback start ~~

Roger: It’s said that the origins of various fairytales were based on these “Cursed Ones”. But nowadays, it’s reversed and we refer to it as the “Fairytale Curse”.

~~ End flashback ~~

(That’s what I was told when we first met)

Kate: Um, so…let’s say Lance is cursed. Are you saying we don’t know if the curse exists in a fairytale?

Roger: That’s right. As expected from my assistant, quick on the uptake.

He ruffled my hair.

(It’s annoying how happy I get even when this is something you do to a dog…)

It felt like he was training me and while I hung my head feeling frazzled, Roger called out to me.

Roger: So…What do you think? Anything about this make you suspicious? 

(Roger felt it too)

Kate: Lance was arrested because he was found sneaking into a butcher’s shop at night and eating the meat right? But Lance didn’t seem like the type to so easily commit a crime. Besides, the paintings on display had papers taped on them indicating that they were to be sold. As we were chatting, he brought up receiving commissions. So he’s not living in poverty…

Roger: And look at the paint. It has the royal warrant of appointment.

Roger held up a used tube of blue paint.

Kate: Huh, you just took that without asking? That’s wrong…

Roger: Wrong? We’re still villains in Crown. We can’t protect anything by doing things the right way.

--

The moment we arrived back at the castle, we went straight to Lord Elbert’s room.

I thought that someone like Lord Elbert, who collected beautiful things, would understand the value of the paint.

Elbert: …This paint certainly is a first-class product of the Royal Warrant. Also…I heard that Lance Brown’s paintings have caught the eyes of nobility.

(Lance is a famous painter…)

Elbert: As you two have discussed, I don’t believe he’s struggling financially.

Kate: I thought so…

When I guess turned out to be correct, new suspicions formed.

Kate: Then why did he steal from the butcher’s shop that night?

Elbert: If he is a cursed one…Then perhaps it has to do with his curse.

Kate: His curse…?

Elbert: The sin of a Cursed One is far more powerful than you could possibly imagine. My cursed sin is greed…Sometimes I crave and crave, and the rational side of me can’t resist the urges. If he’s also tormented by his own sin…

Roger: I’m betting on a high possibility of that too.

Elbert: You haven’t told him that he’s probably a Cursed One, have you?

Seeing our expressions, Elbert’s long eyelashes lowered melancholically. 

Elbert: …If that’s the case, then you should tell him as soon as possible. I believe self-awareness is a way to protect yourself.

Roger: Yeah, I will. Thanks El, you were a big help.

Kate: Thank you, Lord Elbert.

Elbert: No problem. Roger’s done a lot for me.

Ocean blue eyes looked out at the sky through the window.

Elbert: It’s going to rain…tonight.

What Elbert said was true. It started raining that night—and the day after.

We then heard that Lance had passed away.

Next

[signanothername]

I was wondering what you mean when you talk about the fact Killer feels nostalgic still for Nightmare, even after being saved by Color

Like do you mean he misses Nightmare, or he think he still deserves to be tormented, or some fucked up mix of both.

I love the timing of your ask Anon cause I literally started making a comic about this very topic just yesterday chhchchc

And it’s a fucked up mix of both

Killer genuinely misses Nightmare, but not in a healthy way where he misses Nightmare cause he was a good influence on him and his life, but rather a sort of fucked up Stockholm Syndrome situation in which Killer has gotten so used to Nightmare’s presence and nonstop abuse that it just feels wrong to him that Nightmare isn’t in his life anymore

But it’s also his self loathing making itself known, Killer doesn’t feel like he deserves Color’s love and Kindness, Killer hates himself and thinks he doesn’t deserve saving, and even it goes as far as Killer believing he deserves to be abused by Nightmare, that it’s just Karma for what he’s done, which is all absolute bullshit, but that’s how self loathing can distort your perception of yourself and what you experience

But it’s important to also understand that Killer went through that abuse for so long that it became the norm for him, where his perception of how bad it is is fucked up, where he thinks Nightmare wasn’t “so bad”

So Killer sometimes tries to do little things that brings back that familiarity, like calling Nightmare still, doing little things he used to do with/for Nightmare, etc

And i’d dare say Killer wants Nightmare to show up and to spend time with him even, as fucked up as that is (Killer will be even more of a bitch towards Nightmare, but it doesn’t change the fact Killer wishes to see him still)

Which is why I want to bring up the “a little life update” comic, like don’t get me wrong, that comic is absolutely wholesome and it’s meant to show how Killer’s life changed for the better after being saved and that will never change

But the thing is, it’s also supposed to show Killer’s inability to stay away from Nightmare in a way

The comic was about Killer making a call to keep going in his healing journey by getting some things off his chest without any repercussions, but it’s also meant to represent some of the deeper fucked up conditioning Killer went through that he isn’t able to get rid of yet

That’s why i have Killer saying this specifically 👇

I mean, why wouldn’t Killer have a “good answer” for why he’s telling Nightmare about his new life?

You see that Killer’s very first thought as to why he’s telling Nightmare about his now good life is that he’s maybe feeling nostalgic

But he also mentions “longing”, “hope”, and “bad habit”

These words weren’t randomly chosen, they were all intentionally picked

“Longing” cause Killer longs for Nightmare’s presence in his life, he misses his presence in his life

“Hope” cause Killer hopes for Nightmare’s approval

“Bad habit” cause Killer used to be the one to give Nightmare all the intel he needed, and Killer thinks that it’s maybe his “right hand man” habit of giving Nightmare info that he’s telling him everything

Only to finally say that it’s “spite”

And that’s completely true, Killer is spiteful and he wants to have Nightmare see that he can live a good happy life

But notice how I wrote “maybe” twice in that page and a “maybe” in the page before it? Yeah that’s completely intentional

Because while “spite” is true, it doesn’t mean that “nostalgia”, “longing”, “hope”, and “bad habit” aren’t also true, they all are true in their own right

Emotions are complicated and Killer lost his understanding of his own emotions, so he can’t truly settle for one answer to the question of why he’s calling Nightmare

But nostalgia is definitely something he feels that prompted that call

But here’s the thing, know how I always say Nightmare has “moments of kindness” (i got an ask about what that specifically means so imma leave the ramble for it for that ask ycfhfh) but Nightmare is almost always horrible in his treatment of Killer, but there are definitely times I like to call “down times” in which Nightmare isn’t an absolute abusive bitch to Killer

Where Nightmare actually treats Killer with a bit of decency, where he lets things slide and leaves Killer alone, or where he and Killer actually spend time together without Nightmare being an absolute bitch about it

That of course doesn’t make Nightmare’s overall treatment of Killer ok at all, but these kinda things also contribute to Killer’s fucked up nostalgia

Like Killer would legitimately tell Color that “Nightmare wasn’t so bad” sometimes cause of those “down times” and Color is working on making Killer realize that no, in fact, Nightmare was so bad

But Color also doesn’t want to push his own ideals onto Killer, he simply wants to help Killer realize it himself, it’s not a good idea to force Killer or to make Killer feel forced to do something cause 1- it’ll make Killer immediately close off, and 2- Color is no Nightmare, Killer had been forced to do things all his life and Color wants to respect Killer’s wishes and autonomy, lest Killer’s fucked up perception of control gets even worse

And god give Color patience cause Killer’s nostalgia is something that’ll take so much time for him to get rid off, if Killer even wants that nostalgia gone

[aardvaark]

i think it’s noteworthy that parker finds a way, multiple times, to pretend to be with hardison in a con. she kisses him in the first david job, she pretends she’s meeting him to have sex in the wedding job, they pretend they’re getting a marriage visa in the zanzibar marketplace job, and they act like they’ve been making out in the jailhouse job. and i can’t think of a time that she’s done that with any of the others?? tell me if im wrong but i don’t think she’s fake-made-out with anyone else, at least.

i mean, parker stabs or breaks the fingers of guys who flirt with her or touch her. yet in the first david job she kisses hardison. in season one, when she’s still so resistant to touch and her heart is so guarded. its just for the con, of course. but a fake kiss, something she can easily write off - that’s all she can do at that stage. she can’t offer her heart, she won’t let herself get attached, and really it takes until the long way down job (ie season 4) for her to start accepting that she is capable of loving and being loved. in season 1, when she was entirely closed off, a fake kiss is all she can do with her feelings for hardison pretzels. she keeps taking the opportunity to kiss him or be together, without the consequence of Having To Talk About It and all the problems she knows would come with that. her method of coping with Emotions is to let herself get into a bunch of mini fake dating AUs with him lol.

i think its worth bringing up because ive mentioned how sweet hardison is with her, and we all talk about how much he cares for her and shows patience and understanding, but its certainly not one-sided! parker’s enamoured with him since pretty early on. her way of showing it is just different and somehow both far less and way more direct lol. they both put effort into figuring each other out and learning to be in a relationship, not to mention that trying to be capable of a healthy relationship with hardison is one of the biggest driving forces behind parker’s character growth. he’s so important to her (and they’re so important to me <3).

[arabzian]

Tags: sfw, fluff, reader tried to hide her pregnancy from nanami.

The positive test was right in front of you: You’re pregnant, there was no doubt about that.

Currently in the bathroom of a supermarket, you went out to buy a pregnancy test because you didn’t have your period this month and bingo: a baby was on the way.

You and Nanami had been in a relationship for a short time and last night he told you he was going to be away on a business trip. He’s been waiting for this opportunity for quite some time and if he knew you were pregnant, he was most certainly going to turn it down to stay with you and you didn’t want him to spoil that opportunity for you. It might sound absolutely crazy and irrational but you didn’t want to be a drag on Nanami’s career.

So you tried to hide your pregnancy from him. Yes, you keep the baby, but you’ll tell him later, after his trip. He was definitely going to be very angry but you didn’t want to get between him and his goals at work.

Unfortunately, your partner has a very observing nature and notice every little details. You couldn’t hide your pregnancy from him more than two days because something about you began to change. You always were on the bathroom and you were more tired and irritated than usual.

« Baby..? » Nanami came to see you in the bathroom, you were vomiting in the toilets. « Sweetheart are you okay? » he kneeled next to you and caressed your back.

« Yes i am okay » you breathed. « I ate too much earlier so I feel very nauseous » you lied.

« y/n, you were with me all day long and we didn’t eat that much, don’t lie to me. »

You became silent and you felt your face burning, you didn’t want to lie to him, he looked so worried for you, nanami is very honest and compassionate you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to his face.

You began to cry and it made your partner more worried.

« Hey, what’s happening ? » he proceeded to hug you. « Baby? Please tell me, I know there is something wrong. »

« Nanami I am so sorry, please don’t be mad at me.. »

« I would never be mad at you. I swear y/n » he cupped your cheeks in his large hand and he was looking at you in the eyes, proving that he would not be mad.

« Nanami, I am pregnant. » you cried more when you said that.

Nanami’s face collapsed, shocked and at the same time confused. He felt no anger but he just didn’t understand that you didn’t tell him.

« What? Sweetheart, since when do you know that ? »

« Two days ago, I am so sorry.. »

« Please stop crying I swear it’s okay. Why didn’t you tell me ? »

« Because you had a business trip planned and I didn’t-»

« Okay no. Listen to me » he rubbed your cheeks to wipe your tears, you looked so stressed and anxious it made his heart throb. « You are my top priority. Nothing’s above you or count more than you do. And certainly not work. I would never go on a business trip knowing that my wife is alone and pregnant. »

« But Nanami.. this is a opportunity to lift your career and-»

« Please y/n why did you think that a business trip would be more important than you? »

Your mind went blank. Actually, Nanami was your first healthy relationship so you thought that he was about to get mad at you for being pregnant and ruined his career but no. There is only you in his mind, you are his main goal and all of his project are built depending on you. He wanted a big and prosperous life for you two and he even wanted to propose to you after his business trip. Guess he has to accelerate the processus now that you are pregnant with his baby.

« I am so happy… » he breathed, kissing your hand. « y/n, I want to start a family with you. »

« Me too Nanami, sorry if it’s a bit early in our relationship… »

« Why are you apologising ? We made this baby together okay? I am going to take care of everything, I only want you to rest and be healthy. »

« Nanami.. » you felt yourself being teary again. « I am going to be so fat and irritated and sick and-»

« And I will love every single part of it. » He hugs you so warmly that you felt no more worried about anything. « I will kiss the floor where you feet lands, I will praise you so much y/n. »

Your grip on his shoulders became more intense as you felt reassured and valued. Nanami respects you and take care of you so so much, you know that now that you were pregnant he is going to be more protective of you.

« Now baby, come in the bedroom, I wanna make sure that you are really pregnant. »

And also, more handsy with you. The fact that you were pregnant turned him on so so much. Prepare yourself to have this man’s hands on you all the time and everywhere.

omg i really want him to have his little wife and family.. I am so so sad that nanami will never have this .. he would have made such a wonderful husband and dad💗💗💗

[dragonridernoobie]

Hi! So this is kinda a weird request considering my past ones, I’ve been going through some stuff lately mentally and I’m kinda struggling so I was wondering if I could request TFP Ratchet, Wheeljack, Megatron, Soundwave, Shockwave, and Bayverse Optimus comforting/helping a s/o who is struggling to take care of themself? Like as if they feel as though everything is a chore and they don’t have the energy to get up anymore, If you don’t feel comfortable writing this then don’t feel like you have to:>

Sure, and don't worry, it's allowed since it's in my allowed rules. Also, everything will be ok, life is tough but you will get through. There's a light at the end of the tunnel. I ain't saying this to force you into Christianity but God will help you. Just remmber to take care of yourself at time.

TFP x Mentally Tierd Reader

Bayverse optimus

I think optimus will notice that something was wrong for reader when reader seems like...a zombie, less active, less happy

Optimus will try to talk to the reader, but the reader will always dismisses it by saying they had to go do something or pretend they heard sonone yell their name.

Optimus got annoyed by this since reader was one of the few poeple that made Optimus open up and talk to freely.

So he cornered reader to ask them what was wrong.

Optimus- I see something is wrong young one. Tell me.

Reader- I feel so over worked that everything feels like a job, I can't think straight, and I just can't be happy. It seems like anytbing that I do is wrong or I am not good enough.

Optimus- It is normal to feel like everything is becoming too much at times. But it is important to remember that you are capable and that you have the ability to make a difference. Take a moment to take a step back from whatever makes you feel overwhelmed. Remember to take care of yourself, get enough rest, eat healthy and stay positive. Remember that you matter, and that you are worthy. Never give up. Keep moving forward and focus on the things that make you happy.

Reader felt so happy about what optimus said that they promised to do what optimus said.

Soon, reader felt happy and was actallg able to do all the things they used to love.

Ratchet TFP

I think ratchet will the the one to notice how reader will be acting diffrent.

Like, he is a scientist but he's dumb with emotions.

He won't notice intel reader comes to him first

He will be coming fused why reader will be acting or feeling this way, probably saying something hurtful on accident like "why do you feel this way? There's no point of being sad." Or something like that.

He would realize his mistake if reader seems to be acting worse after talking to him.

He would find time to talk to reader and apologized to reader and offers to listen.

Ratchet- what is wrong reader? I will try my best to help you.

Reader- I feel so over worked that everything feels like a job, I can't think straight, and I just can't be happy. It seems like anytbing that I do is wrong or I am not good enough.

Ratchet- I can...understand that. I was to depressed how you humans say it. Everything will be fine though, I believe agent Agent William Fowler will be able to get you help.

Reader dose just that. Reader let's ratchet contact fowler so they could get help.

Reader feels so happy.

Wheeljack

Wheeljack would take some time to realize that reader was acting diffrent

Not as long as ratchet.

He would notice when he asked reader to come on a flight with him and while on a flight, he would notice how reader seems less...active.

Wheeljack- so, squirt, what's wrong.

Reader- it's nothing.

Wheeljack- I don't know what's going on but it's effecting ya.

Reader- I feel so over worked that everything feels like a job, I can't think straight, and I just can't be happy. It seems like anytbing that I do is wrong or I am not good enough.

Wheeljack- I can understand that. Thought the war, I felt useless but I found my way out. Listen kid, if this old bag of bolts can get through a thought spot, you can to.

Reader definitely felt better after talking to wheeljack and wheeljack made sure reader never felt lonely or alone.

Megatron

You gotta be good friends with megatron for him to even like you enough to care about you.

Though, if you somehow got into his Spark, megatron will be there for you.

I think he would be the second fastest person to pick up on readers change of behavior.

He wouldn't ask out right since he has an image to uphold.

He would only talk to reader if they where alone.

Megatron- what has you changing moods (Y/N)?

Reader- I feel so overworked that everything feels like a job, I can't think straight, and I just can't be happy. It seems like anything that I do is wrong or I am not good enough.

Megatron- that's the biggest lie I have ever herd.

Reader- what?

Megatron- if you weren't good enough, I would have killed you when we first met. And the over work stuff, I will make is personally that Soundwave makes you're work easier.

Megatron got alot of work load off of reader...in his own twisted way.

He will always check up on reader.

Only if the room is empty ofcorse.

Soundwave

Soundwave would take the number one spot for noticing how reader changes behavior.

He would take reader aside and ask what was wrong.

By asking, I mean pointing at reader and a question mark appears on his visor.

Reader- I feel so over worked that everything feels like a job, I can't think straight, and I just can't be happy. It seems like anytbing that I do is wrong or I am not good enough.

Soundwave- *tilts head*

Reader- I know, it's stupid to get emotion over this.

Soundwave- *buzzer sound with x on visor.*

Reader- what?

Soundwave- *points to reader and plays a recording.* you are awsome, everything you do is awesome don't let the world take you down, if it dose get back up. It's never over.

Soundwave wierd way of saying he is there for reader is strange but it helps reader.

Reader feels happy.

Shockwave

Shockwave will have to take 2nd place for the most oblivious to readers emotion change.

He would be so focused on his work to not notice.

I think he will only notice if reader starts to not do there work.

He will not ask reader what was wrong and searches up ways why humans are sad.

Que Shockwave entering the lab, and giving reader icecream, books, blankets, heating pads, stuffed animals, music, movies, etc.

Reader would ask why.

Shockwave- do not even think you are useless. You have helped me greatly with my work.

Reader- what? But I dident even-

Shockwave- no need, I reasurched you're problem.

Smooth Shockwave, smooth....

But he is right, reader is the best of the best and Shockwave wouldn't be this happy without them.

Even if they don't show it.

Don't ever forget, who ever is reading this, you are never alone. If you are going thru a dark time, it's ok to fall down, it dosent make you a failure. It means you ste stronger but only if you stand back up.

[chaifootsteps]

I think something that REALLY bothers me about the way people talk about the portrayal of SA in Hazbin (and honestly about SA in media as a whole) is that people are very much “black and white” about the whole thing—which I can understand because it’s a very emotional and upsetting topic—but people act as if these portrayals are ALWAYS either objectively good or bad.

Now. I personally think Hazbin handles the topic of SA terribly and that its portrayal is fetishistic dogshit.

But that is only my opinion, and if someone said to me that they felt truly seen and represented by the portrayal in Hazbin, and that they thought it was perfect, I would never try to take that from them or tell them that their opinion and feelings were WRONG.

That’s so insensitive and disrespectful to others.

And it’s disturbing to me that people in the fandom (and critics as well if I’m honest) seem to think they can somehow argue away someone’s personal opinions or disregard someone’s trauma.

Like. You cannot. You just can’t! I’m sorry!!! All of the people who felt hurt or disregarded or disrespected by the Portrayal of SA in Hazbin are allowed to feel that way! They are allowed to criticize the show!!! They are allowed to dislike it and talk about how they don’t like it!!!

And as fans you just have to learn how to be okay with that. And as critics you also have to learn to be okay with people feeling represented by it. You just have to.

It’s frustrating too that Vivziepop doesn’t seem to realize this either, and seemingly takes people criticizing the show as a personal attack (or at least did so back in January—to my knowledge she hasn’t brought it up since the three days of arguing with people on blusky)

Like idk man. It’s not that hard to let someone else have an opinion on something and not let it affect you. Like. Learn how to sit with your thoughts and your feelings don’t tell people their trauma is “invalid” or whatever, jeez.

100%. Certain elements of the fandom and certain elements of the critical side have got to get used to the idea that Person A can feel represented by Angel Dust's writing and think the show is genius, Person B can feel disgusted by Angel Dust's writing and think the show is irredeemable dogshit, and these opinions are equally fine. These people will probably never agree on this point, but that's also fine, they don't have to.

A responsible creator would have stepped in years go and stressed the importance of this and the importance of being kind to each other, but not Viv. Viv doesn't want a healthy fandom, she wants a little internet army.

[ellisgirl]

Harrison Gray — I Want to Know Every Inch of You Collection Event

Harrison and Body Measurement

I do not own any contents of Ikemen Villains. This story being uploaded in this blog belongs solely to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading their games and buying their stories. Both English and Japanese are not my mother tongue languages, please keep in mind that there will be mistakes and added words for my own preferences. I translate for my personal entertainment and for my own practice only.

My first time translating harry’s 😭😭😭

Harrison: "Crown's body measurement......”

Kate: "Yes. It seems that it also serves as a medical checkup."

When Victor asked me to take everyone's body measurements, I called Harry first.

In addition to basic information such as height and weight, the record sheet handed out also contains questions tailored to each individual.

Harrison: “Is that sort of thing within the purview of a Fairytale Master's work?”

Kate: “Of course. Because your growth is an important part of our record.”

Harrison: "...No, I won't grow anymore."

Kate: “You never know what the future holds, you know? Above all, I want you all to stay healthy."

Harrison: “Hmm…..”

(...Harry doesn't seem too keen on it.)

(Come to think of it, you also avoided going along with Roger's research.)

(...You don’t like being probed?)

Kate: “I'll make it quick, just bear with me for a minute. Okay?”

As if trying to convince a child who doesn't like injections, Harry took off his jacket.

Harrison: “Just so you know, it's not that I don't like being probed.”

I blinked at Harry's addition, as if he had read my mind.

Harrison: “I just thought you seemed to take on everything."

Kate: "Did you worry about me?"

Harrison: "I don't know....... So, how are you going to find out?"

(It's usual that there is no answer…, but it was easy to understand now.)

My mouth relaxed at Harry's apparent concern for me.

Kate: “Starting with height, weight....., and chest and abdominal circumference."

Harrison: "Understood."

Using a measuring tape, Harry's body is measured as he stands in front of me.

(If you want to measure properly, you need to be in close contact with him...)

If I put the measuring tape on Harry's back, he'll be in a position where I am hugging him from the front.

Even though I know that his body is masculine and robust.

I was strangely conscious, so I applied the tape measure while moving my body away from him a little.

Harrison: “Wouldn't we have to stick together more to get an accurate measurement?”

Kate: "T-That's right..."

He closes the distance when pointed out, but I’m too nervous to look at Harry's body properly.

Harrison: “Don't be shy, why don't you do what you always do?”

Kate: “Always?”

I turn my head and Harry teasingly whispers in my ear.

Harrison: “You clung desperately to me naked when we were shagging and wouldn't leave me. Why are you so shy now?”

Kate: “E-Even if you give me examples of things like that...”

Harrison: “If you want me to recreate the scene, I'll do it.”

Harry pulls my hips closer, slides his knee between my legs, and pushes me up.

Kate: “Nn, it’s no good.”

Harrison: "What's wrong?"

Kate: "...If that happens, we won't be able to measure anything."

Even though I say that, the force with which I push back against Harry's chest is modest.

(......I know exactly what I need to do, I need to get on with measuring.)

(But if Harry comes on to me, I can't resist strongly enough ......)

Harrison: "Haha...your face is bright red. Now that I’ve seen your cute face, I'll be obedient and cooperate with the measurements then.”

Laughing teasingly, Harry took his hand away from mine.

I felt relieved and at the same time realised that my nervousness had eased.

(Maybe Harry was deliberately pressing me to get me used to it.)

I was also pleased to find Harry's teasing mixture of kindness.

In this way, the measurements managed to proceed—

Kate: “Okay, ….now the last item has been filled in. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Harrison: “.....By the way, are you going to do measurements on everyone from now on?”

Kate: "That's right. It seems that everyone is here today, so I'm going to do it all at once."

Harrison: “Hmmm...... Can I do that?”

…

Kate: "Thank you for your help. It was very helpful!"

Harry helped everyone in the Crown with their physical measurements because he had time.

He took the measurements with a tape measure, I recorded them. We divided the roles and the measurements were completed in no time.

(Hehe... Harry is mean, but kind and reliable.)

As I'm falling back in love with him, Harry looks at me with probing eyes.

Harrison: “So, whose body was the best?”

Kate: “Eh..... What do you mean?”

Harrison: “You've examined all of their bodies, haven't you? I'm asking you whose body you found most attractive.”

Harrison: “I'm sure you have your favorite body shape and favorite parts, don’t you?”

Kate: “Even if you say so...”

(I only thought it was good that everyone seemed to be healthy without any major injuries.…)

(......There was only one person I couldn't consciously measure well.)

Kate: “……Harry.”

Harrison: “Hm?”

Kate: “The only thing that made me nervous was your body.”

Harrison: “……..” 0_0

Kate: "Do you believe it's true?"

The heart is invisible, so even if you really mean what you say, sometimes you may not be believed.

But his ability to see through the lies is also his ability to believe. I can tell him how I feel without deception.

Harrison: *blushing* "......I understand. Your words are not a lie."

Harrison: “I never imagined before I met you that there would ever come a time when I would use this ability for love.”

I'm the one who said the embarrassing line, but I feel that Harry, who exposed my heart, is more embarrassed.

Kate: “Hehe. I see you've found a fun use for it.”

Harrison: “......Come to think of it, I've got a record sheet for you too.”

Maybe he was embarrassed, Harry suddenly changed the topic.

Kate: “Yes. I'm also going to measure it later and fill it in.”

Harrison: “Heh...... Who do you let touch your body and measure every inch of it?”

At first, I thought I should ask someone who was available for my body measurement.

(However, after taking everyone's measurements, I realised that even if it's just a physical measurement, touching me is—)

Kate: “—Harry is good.”

After answering, I realised the mistake of my statement.

Kate: “....If it's not Harry, I don't want it.”

After rephrasing it, Harry smiles with a satisfied smile.

Harrison: “Fine. If it has to be me, I'll do as you ask.”

Harrison: “......But before that, I'll get paid for the labour.”

—After a kiss that is too sweet to be called compensation.

Every inch of my body had been thoroughly examined by Harry's hands.

Fin.

Masterlist

[five-rivers]

Promises, Promises

“At its most basic,” said Clockwork, pouring a cup of tea, “a frailty is a psychic injury a ghost deals themself, repeatedly, until it becomes an incontrovertible, irreversible, indelible portion of their being.  Not always purposefully, mind you, but it is still self-inflicted.  Tea?”

“No, thank you,” said Jazz, leaving her hands folded in her lap.  

“Very well.”  He set the tea down on the coffee table and started pouring a second cup.  “During the incident with his future self, Daniel promised that he would not become that person, would not become a killer.  But, as you may imagine, a promise by itself is flimsy, breakable.  He needed it to mean something, to be unbreakable.  But why should one promise be unbreakable when no others were?”

“I suppose it couldn’t be,” said Jazz, voice clipped.  

“Precisely.  For this vitally important promise to mean something, all his promises must be similarly weighty.”  He sipped his tea.  “It is a very common frailty, overall.  The general category it is traditionally placed in is Stygian, after the river, which also includes inhibitions against lying, dishonesty, and dishonor, but there are other name schemes and other methods of classification.”

“And this is relevant because…?”

“Because, you see, Daniel has made a promise.  Are you sure you wouldn’t like any tea?”

Jazz smiled thinly.  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t trust you at all.  What promise did he make?”

Clockwork smiled slowly, fondly.  “It is rather sweet, actually.  But you know how he is.”

Jazz clenched her hands, the fabric of her slacks crumpling in her grip.  “What.  Happened.”

“You do understand this will largely be speculation on my part?  I may know what has, will, and could happen, but I have no ability with reading minds, least of all your brother’s.”

“Yes.”

Clockwork nodded.  “Daniel is, perhaps surprisingly, careful with his frailty.  When he must make a promise, he qualifies it.  He says, I will try, or, for today, or, even, if disaster does not strike.  In his own idiom, of course, but the point stands.  However, he broke this pattern earlier this week.”

“I made him promise me that he’d start sleeping a healthy amount,” said Jazz, briefly closing her eyes.  “I told him not to say he’d try, to say he’d do it.  But that shouldn’t have caused all this.”  She spread her hands angrily, her little finger almost catching on the lid of the teapot.

“No, by itself it wouldn’t.  But that is also not quite what you said,” said Clockwork, “although I cannot fault you for misremembering your exact words.  He did manage to put a time limit on the promise, although it was a much more distant one that he usually uses.  He appended his promise to attain a healthy amount of sleep with this month.”  Clockwork shrugged.  “But you are not the only one who can compel unwise promises from him.”

Jazz’s eyes narrowed.  “Who?”

“Sam and Tucker,” said Clockwork, “although they are aware of their role in this as much as you were aware of yours when you first stood on my doorstep.  In an attempt to satisfy his promise to you, Daniel took to sleeping in unconventional locations.  Under the bleachers at school, park benches, trees, bushes, rooftops, alleyways…  After all, ghost attacks didn’t stop attacking just because he promised you he would get more rest.”

On the couch, Jazz squirmed just a little as Clockwork paused, sipping his tea.

“His friends were naturally alarmed.  Upon retrieving him from a tall tree for the second time, they made him promise to stop sleeping in unsafe places.  The promise was extracted with the best of intentions, but I believe you can see why he never would have made it if he hadn’t just been woken up.”

Jazz opened her mouth to deny that statement, then closed it.  “He doesn’t feel safe at home, does he?  He doesn’t feel safe in Amity Park.”

“As I said, I cannot read minds.”  Clockwork gestured with his cup.  “But considering the circumstances that brought you here, I would reach that conclusion as well.”

“And then there was whatever happened in the Far Frozen.”

“Yes,” said Clockwork.  “Daniel asked Chief Frostbite what ghost sleeping schedules were like.  Chief Frostbite, naturally, told Daniel that for ghosts of comparable power, when they feel the need to sleep, they sleep for months.  As you can imagine, that only exacerbated the problem.”

“What do I–  How can I fix this?  Can I fix this?  Or is the only way out to wait for the end of the month and hope he’s still–”  She cut herself off.

Clockwork hummed.  “Perhaps.  On the other hand… It is possible,” he said, “that you or his friends could release him from the promises he made to you.  It is a common feature of Stygian frailties, though not a universal one, and not one that has been tested on Daniel.  You would, however, have to find him first.”

“And where is he?”

“That,” said Clockwork, “I cannot tell you.”

"Excuse me?"

"I am already bending the rules by giving you information you may have put together on your own from information you have already gathered.  I have done what I can do.  Further action on my part would be… unwise.”

Jazz pursed her lips.  “Fine.”  She stood up, hauling her bazooka back up over her shoulder.  “Thank you for…”  She waved in Clockwork’s general direction.  “This.  But if you aren’t going to tell me where he is, I need to go.”

She made a quarter-turn away from him and raised the bazooka, engaging the lever that would allow it to make portals back to the human world.  She fired, a beam of green light splashing to a stop on an invisible wall and a scintillating portal spun itself into being.  Jazz stalked forward, her speed just a few steps below running.

“Jasmine.”

“What?”

“Are you entirely sure you will not take some tea?  You have a long journey ahead of you.”

Jazz’s face scrunched, the lines of it thrown into stark contrast by the glowing portal behind her.

“No.”  She stepped through, leaving Clockwork behind.  The portal rippled and flared, then vanished.

“Well,” he said.  “I tried.”  He finished the rest of his tea and put the cup down, folding his hands in front of him.  After a few seconds, he looked down and adjusted one of his wrist watches.  “Any time, now.”

The door of the clock tower creaked open, a shaking figure in the doorway casting a long shadow.

“Hello, Daniel,” said Clockwork.  “Would you like some tea?”

“I wh– What?”  Danny’s teeth - fangs, really - flashed white in the dimness of the clock tower.

“Would you like some tea?  It should be cool enough now for you to enjoy.”

Danny, still shaking and visibly nodding off between steps, made his way to Clockwork’s couch and sat down, his weight on it so feather-light that he didn’t even bend the cushions.

“I made it,” he said.

“You did,” said Clockwork.  He stooped to pick up the still-full teacup and the corresponding saucer and pressed them into Danny’s hands.  

“Wh-what?”

“Tea.  My own blend.  It should help you sleep.  Which you do need to do eventually.  It has been days, Daniel.”

“Sleep,” said Danny.  “Safe?”

“It is safe,” assured Clockwork.  

Danny nodded, eyes slipping closed again, and raised the cup to his lips.  He drank it all at once, then immediately slumped to one side.  Clockwork caught the cup and saucer before they could hit the ground and sighed heavily.  

“Yes,” said Clockwork, patting Danny’s cheek.  “You are quite safe here.  I promise.”

[stuff-and-shenanigans]

scattered general good omens season 2 thoughts below the cut

- neil gaiman remains my favorite writer even if he’s unequivocally broken my brain a little bit. and john finnemore, whose work on cabin pressure i enjoyed thoroughly when i was younger, was a marvelous choice for co-writer this time round.

- michael sheen and david tennant genuinely might be the two best actors alive. they’re so perfectly cast and every single interaction they have and every moment they have to themselves is so magnificently calibrated. i love them as aziraphale and crowley so very very much and i hope they are proud of their work because they should be.

- the ineffable bureaucracy was so sneakily and delightfully handled. i don’t think anyone could have predicted that ship ever becoming canon but i thought it was so adorably handled. hope they’re having a nice time on alpha centauri 🥺

- the humor this season is VERY pratchetty and all the funny moments genuinely made me grin. the demons not understanding spelling, muriel as a “human police officer,” gabriel/jim’s himbo moments, THE INEPT NAZI ZOMBIES… so good. i think terry would enjoy so much of this season.

- the historical flashbacks were a DELIGHT and i LOVED seeing their first meeting before the big bang 🥺

- i like maggie and nina a lot and i really hope we get a season three because i am really rooting for them. YAY taking time in relationships after a breakup. that’s so important and healthy and i’m glad that’s how we’ve left them for now. i hope they have a nice juicy part to play in the future.

- the second coming being season three’s plot is too perfect (presumably based on terry’s notes with neil for 668: the neighbor of the beast) and i can’t wait to see how it turns out.

- THE ENTIRE LAST MOMENTS WHERE WE THINK WE’RE GETTING A MUTUAL CONFESSION. BUT NO. IT GOES SO WRONG. AND THEN AZIRAPHALE’S “I NEED YOU I NEED US” AND CROWLEY JUST PLANTING ONE ON HIM AND AZI HAVING NO CLUE WHAT TO DO WITH HIS HANDS AND WHEN THEY BREAK HE’S DEVASTATED AND CAN ONLY SAY HE FORGIVES HIM. and then aziraphale touching his lips as crowley leaves and the dark reprise of nightingale holy fucking shit you cannot make this shit up i am forever devastated and replaying every bit in my head because gooooooood michael and david fucking killed me

[ms-scarletwings]

Upon finishing S3//Ep2 of Moral Orel, “Innocence”, Orel’s morals finally clicked for me

As happens in a show this narratively rich, I looked around at some of the close-by chatter under comment sections. People were making these observations about how Orel seemingly just goes out of his way to interpret all of the lessons he’s given in the least charitable and most nonsensical way. Not an invalid view, and for the first good part of the show, you think this is just the function of an over the top comedic bit for the formula of each episode. It’s easy to ask how on earth a seemingly kind hearted, well meaning kid like this can be THAT devoid of the basic logical implications of what he hears, or any common moral intuition that virtually everyone has, right?

Orel’s not a stupid kid. But the entire problem with him up to the point thus far is that he legit DOES NOT in fact have that intuition we expect most people, even children to have. That knee-jerk repulsion to obviously harmful actions. That really vital sense of conscience. No, I don’t mean he’s some kind of psychopath. He has a bright and almost sickeningly sweet heart and it was part of how he broke the cycle despite everything. I mean that Orel has not had a coherent moral compass modeled to him through his earlier development. His ethical axioms are ALL rooted in divine command theory. To put it simply, he doesn’t believe “god is good”, he believes “goodness” itself is “what god says is good”. Most Christians, hell, most religious people generally do not literally, consciously operate in this way, and usually even the ones that do are (mostly) still functionally average people, because usually they were at least consistently conditioned to believe that axioms like human well-being are what God commands. To at least a fortunate degree, human empathy and socialization usually is allowed to and even encouraged to develop under mainstream religious upbringings.

You notice the glaring difference though when you see what happens to people who are molded entirely by Divine Command Theory and then become convinced that their God’s divine command is something that doesn’t happen to line up with conventionally good ideals, like those given earlier. This is what destructive cults do. This is what makes crusades. This is what causes anti-sodomy laws and stoning people to death for eating the wrong kind of fish or not wearing the right clothing to happen.

Understand that this is the hinge that Orel’s whole sense of right and wrong up to this point swings on. What it means is that this little boy can, and will, justify or excuse any and all directions given to him so long as he trusts the adult talking to him as someone who speaks for God. This combined with his craving for approval, plus the fact that he’s also had it drilled in his head to never question or doubt his elders’ wisdom makes for a child zealot that is dangerously easy to manipulate to do ANYTHING and with fanatical determination. It is less than no additional help that the Puppingtons (and the majority of the townsfolk) have never been golden examples for healthy social modeling, as well. Like, sure, he’s getting glimmers of actual goodness in there such as the Jesus loves you so love yourself and help thy neighbors messaging, but it’s being inconsistently contradicted by and juggled alongside at same hierarchical importance as “lessons” like beat the shit out of people who make fists, segregate the brown people, and be terrified of the same authority you expect safety and comfort from. Why on earth is it shocking that Orel seemingly has no sense of scale or priority when it comes to the rules? The rules he’s given are subject to constant and chaotic updates and are all treated with the same gravity. Follow X and you will be promised infinite reward. Disobey X and you will be met with infinite retribution. Not just even in a spiritual heaven and hell sense, but here in life too. Clay delivers the same punishment for getting hooked on crack or becoming a serial rapist that he does for the “sin” of using slang vernacular and meditating to relieve stress.

Everything that defines his life and virtues is a matter of constant anxiety and eagerness in order to appease a patriarchal tyrant that is portrayed as both ultimately benevolent and wise,

yet incredibly vindictive, sadistic, irrational, and petty.

And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this description can equally apply to Moralton’s conception of God and a certain alcoholic father.

No kidding when I say that Orel has so little consistent input to actually steer him in the right direction that it’s incredibly sad, to the point where he’s extremely fortunate to actually have such an optimistic and compassionate inclination at all. It only seems ridiculous how he can’t see obvious suffering and even personal detriment as any red flags to hesitate or question an action, until you remember that he’s so been domestically broken by Clay and his church that his Pavlovian response to pain is either gratitude, mild inconvenience, or, masochistic euphoria.

Nonetheless, all of this only backfires on every adult in Moralton because the one thing they can’t control or account for 24/7 is exactly how he interprets what they say, even when he’s trying his best to follow their command. It’s like a twisted Amelia Bedelia situation with him that no one actually wants to deal with, even though they all (except Stephanie) collectively played a part in creating this monster.

Censordoll was the first one who was smart and ambitious enough to see the potential for Orel’s blind subservience to be weaponized, and of freaking course she was.

Thing is, you bet the ONLY reason she stopped was because she also lost control of him, and we all know what the consequence of that was. He unintentionally yet absolutely destroyed her in the only weak point she has, yet exactly like Clay did during the “turn the other cheek” incident, she trapped herself in a situation where she couldn’t swallow her own pride in the name of reversing the damage.

What I guess I’m explaining here is that Orel’s collection of constant shenanigans, unknowingly, yet effectively, is literally a manifestation of the community’s own complete moral bankruptcy biting them back in the ass, and possibly even a divine punishment for it, depending on how you interpret the writing. Which is a HELL of a phenomenal, subtle twist to his whole premise that doesn’t abandon the original joke/satire, but instead builds upon it and adds a chasm of depth and intention.

PRETTY GREAT, HUH?~