#everyone is confused and no one has answers

[ooc-miqojak]

This is why they ask

They don't know even one thing about Bernie Sanders, they just spout big words and MAGA rhetoric. On top of that, being a woman myself, I can only pity her teeny little brain that blames ALL men for the deeds of the worst among them. Sure, I've been severely abused by men - but the worst of it came from the narcissistic woman who was my stepmother. All humans have the propensity for evil - women have committed torture upon their own kids, even... but this idiot thinks having a penis must make you evil, lmao. Anyways, I'll go back to living with my platonic, male partner who has never once harmed a woman... and in fact goes out of his way to take care of me, in particular, with no obligation to do so.

Because all humans have the propensity for both good and bad deeds (and words) - it has nothing to do with sex or gender. Sure, the patriarchy is real - but "kill all men" is the most ignorant take one could possibly have. Because you know, killing all of a thing has never worked out well before, and it's a simple little animal brain answer that requires no thought at all... a chimp could come up with 'violence towards my problem', and that's all this pathetic waste of oxygen is: a pathetic little creature that can only think of its own wants, and solving problems with undue violence. Humans who can't think outside their animal brain that says "want sex, want violence" really are the most pathetic sops out there.

Wil won't be getting anywhere with someone whose IQ is lower than the average lapdog's. But hey, they spout MAGA lines and TERF lines WHILE claiming they hate those things? So you know, have pity on them being very confused and in need of serious mental health care - they're getting up on stage to jingle and jangle like the court fool, while having no idea everyone watching is laughing at them, as they undermine their own rhetoric (which is actually just canned MAGA rhetoric, and they claim to hate Trump).

Also, they're a 30+ year old adult who makes posts about being a 'true Swiftie' like they're best friends with a celeb, and go out of their way to postulate who this complete stranger killing the environment likes in... football? But sure, respect their political takes... lmao.

Have pity. They're 14 mentally, and this will never change.

“I don’t like to think in conspiratorial ways. But DOGE currently has far deeper and far more extensive access to U.S. government computer systems — and is far deeper into the national security space — than is conceivably necessary for anything related to their notional brief and goals. I don’t just mean this about the front-facing notional goals of making the federal government “efficient.” I mean it as well in the most sinister versions of the group’s goals — hollowing out the federal bureaucracy, destroying oversight agencies which pose threats to Musk’s business interests, building centralized command and control over budgets, employment, personal data, etc., etc.”

—

DOGE Dives Into Core National Defense and Data Systems Across Government

Yes, these Nazi Incels are attacking America. They all belong in federal prison for the rest of their lives.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Captain's Orders 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, controlling behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The Captain takes it upon himself to change your life.

Characters: Steve Rogers

Note: Ugh, here we go.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Steve, Captain, First Avenger, whatever you should call him, follows you down the stairs. You're overly aware of his presence. You're confused by it.

You got in one argument on the internet and now he's here? What the heck is wasting his time online for? Doesn't he have a life? He did tell you to get one after all.

"I got it," he dips around you as you get to the bottom. He pulls back the fire door and you eye him warily as you step through. Once more, he's on your heels. He gets the front door too.

You cross your arms as you come out into the sunlight. He shades his eyes with his hands and sighs, "nice day, isn't it?"

You roll your tongue around before you answer, "yep."

"I saw a shop around here--"

"It's expensive," you say.

"I said I'd treat you--"

"Why?" You turn on him and stop in the middle of the sidewalk. You cringe and seal your lips. You steady yourself. "Sorry, I'm not trying to be rude. I got your message loud and clear. You didn't need to come and make sure. Is that why you came?"

"I will explain. Smoothies first." He insists.

You huff, "I know who you are but this is still kinda scary. How did you even find me?"

"You know who I am," he shrugs. Your chest swims with nerves. You nod and turn down the pavement.

"What'd you eat today? You should try some Vitamin C in the smoothie. Get a protein booster." He offers.

You're slightly irked by his advice, mostly the assumptions behind it. You wet your lips and bite back on your retort. You are not a combative person. You never have been. He was right on that front. You settle for a lot of nonsense.

You notice the stray glances in your direction. Not yours, his. People stare at him like fawns, wide-eyed and frozen in place.

"So, what did you have for breakfast?"

"Steve-- Captain-- What would you prefer?"

"We'll get to that too," he says smugly. His answer unsettles you further. He's so certain and you are entirely lost. Not to mention, embarrassed.

"It doesn't really matter what I ate," you say.

He points you ahead of him, down the walkway to the shop door. He once more opens it and sees you through. You enter and look around. The amount of booty-lifting leggings and bulging biceps has you shrinking down.

You stare up at the menu and try to piece together how to order. You get a base and a boost and then there's all these bobas and vitamins? This is too complicated.

"You have any recommendations?" You ask. Maybe that will appease him.

"Sure, I'll get you my usual. You wanna find a table?"

"Can do," you mumble and walk away.

You sit in the corner and cradle your chin in your hand. You tap your lip and blow a soft raspberry. There's a woman staring at you from her group of friends. Her assumptions would be kinder than Steve's. He's here to lecture you in person, not take you on a date.

He sits across from you and sets down a cup filled to the brim with sickly green. You shouldn't complain. You're not exactly eating gourmet. You thank him and reach for it. He stretches his hand over the top.

"You shouldn't put your elbows on the table. It's rude." He reproaches.

Your frown then sit up, dragging your arm off the table. You can't make yourself apologise. He so easily picks out your every flaw.

"You gonna try it?" He watches you.

You hesitate but bring the straw to your mouth. You sip and your cheeks pinch. It's bitter yet tangy. How?

"Mm, good," you lie."

"You get used to it," he says.

"Can I please know why I came home to you in my apartment?"

He grins and looks down. He pokes his tongue into his cheek.

"You don't get out much," he lifts his eyes.

"Yeah, you were right about that," you squirm and put the cup down. You clasp your hands in your lap.

"How old are you?"

You chew your cheek before you answer, "twenty-three."

"Mhmm, and you don't have any schooling? Not formal?" He wonders.

You put your eyes down, "no. Can't afford it."

"Huh, from what I gather, lots of students work their way through these days."

Your heart sinks.

"Couldn't get accepted either," you mumble. "That's my own doing. So no need to say it out loud."

Your shoulders slump and your eyes glaze. This is humiliating. It's like having lunch with your mom. Not that she ever did much better. Still, she picks you apart like a chicken leg.

"You should sit up. Bad posture won't feel good as you get closer to thirty," he girds.

You suck in a deep breath and sit straight. You scowl at him, "I got your point, alright? I already feel terrible. Is that what you want to hear?"

"No," he tilts his head. "I want you to try. I want you to do better."

"What does it matter to you? You don't know me."

"It matters to me because I can make you better," he says. "You said you don't get opportunities. That everyone else has everything handed to them, so my hand is open. I'm giving you what you're looking for."

"Huh?" You shake your head gently and furrow your brow.

"No rent, no work, none of that."

You blink and cross your arms. What is he talking about?

"Here's the deal. You get a free ride and all you have to do is follow my rules. I promise you, everything will be better. No manager, no loud sister, no bills."

You narrow your eyes, "and what do I have to do?"

"I said as much, live by my rules."

"Oh," you purse your lips.

You have this rotting feeling in your gut. He's not saying something. There's no reason for him to do this. Over one little spat on a forum.

"Is this how you save people, Cap?"

"I prefer Captain," he spreads his shoulders wide.

"Right. Captain. What if I can't live by your rules? You think I'm lazy--"

"Unmotivated. Complacent. Apathetic. Not lazy," he corrects you.

"Sure, but why... me?"

His eyes twinkle thoughtfully. They are very blue. You were so focused on yourself, you didn't notice... him. He's forged like a statue. His eyes are bright, his features made even more handsome by his beard and his grown out hair. And you are in your work uniform. A mess.

"Chance, I guess." He shrugs. "I mean, think about it, what else do you got going for you?"

You stare at the table then turn your sights through the window. You issue a soft sigh. You put your elbow on the table and he tisks. You quickly pull it back and wiggle your foot anxiously.

He's not wrong. You have absolutely nothing. You don't see yourself getting too much further than minimum wage and a shit apartment. You are being handed this, are you going to turn away what you always envied? An easy out.

"What does it... mean? What happens if I agree? What are the rules?" Your questions bubble out.

He combs his thick fingers through his hair, "the rules you'll learn. First, you're coming back to New York, so I can supervise you. Then, we start. You get into a regimen; exercise, clean eating, routine."

You flutter your lashes. This is absurd. You scoff.

"You're joking. You're mocking me. You're--" you cover your face, "I get it now. I almost fell for it."

"No," he reaches across and pulls your hands down. You flinch at the warmth of his touch, the roughness of his skin. "I'm not. Look."

He retracts his hold on you and you fold your hands over your chest. He reaches into his jacket pocket and slides out two cards. He lays down the thick paper.

"I have two return tickets. For me and you. Tomorrow at noon."

"Tomorrow-- huh?" Your eyes round.

"I'm serious. You better get serious too. You'll be twenty-four soon. Then twenty-five. It's not too far before thirty comes knocking," he taps the tickets.

You're not like him. You're not going to stay young. You're not amped up on super goo. You're only human.

"Or you can do what you always do. Nothing, then blame everyone else."

It's like a slap in the face. Shame and anger. Hurt. Doubt. He's right, it's time to grow up. This isn't an opportunity you get very often. In fact, you don't think many others have been given the same chance. For once, you won the lottery.

"I'll try it." You say.

"No try. You commit," he retorts.

"Alright, I'll... do it."

"You'll do it, Captain," he corrects you.

Your insides wriggle at that. You ignore it.

"I'll do it, Captain."

⭐

Static scratches in your ears and skull as you enter the apartment. Alone. Stunned. As if a mine exploded in your face. In a way, it sort of did. Your online griping finally caught up to you. That and your real-life failure.

Shea is in the living room. She gets up on her knees and smirks at you. "Aw, where is he?"

"Who?" You blink, not processing her question.

"Captain America, duh," she scoffs. "Come on, you really sent him away?"

"He's... busy." You go to your bedroom door and the couch lurches with her weight.

"Hey, you can't just not tell me why he showed up. You didn't say anything about knowing Steve fucking Rogers."

"I didn't?" You open your door and she follows you into your room. You face her and block her from going further. "Shea, please, I need to be alone."

"Why? You're always alone. It's why I'm so surprised you have hunky blond heroes showing up for you. Taking you out for a smoothie," she taunts.

She was listening. He was right to go somewhere else.

"It wasn't... like that. Look. I'm..." you back away and sit on the foot of your bed. You're dizzy. You really said yes. You're entirely sure to what. He kept it all a bit too vague. "I'm moving out."

"What? Why? But--"

"Yeah, er, yeah," you stutter as you build a lie in your mind, "he was here about a job. Long shot. I forgot I even applied."

"Wait? You're going to work with the Avengers? Doing what?"

You look at her, "paperwork."

"Paperwork?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Wait. How am I supposed to find a new roommate? When are you leaving?"

You rub your cheeks and stretch them as you drag your fingers down, "tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?!" She shrieks.

"Yeah, it's... they move fast."

"All the way to New York?" She blusters.

"Please, Shea, I need time to think."

"Yeah, me too!"

"I'll figure out rent for you. I don't know," you hold your head in your hands.

"Well, you don't seem very excited," she snorts.

"Shea!" You sit up with a snarl. "Stop. Alright! I need you to get out so I can pack."

"Don't yell at me--"

"I'm not..." you lower your voice, "yelling. I'm... trying to figure this out so please. Later."

She rolls her eyes and stomps out. "Donna!" She hollers and you get up to close the door behind her.

You stomp back to your bed and take out your phone. You almost can't remember work or all the BS there. You swipe through the search results and tap on the first that isn't sponsored: National Museum, Virtual Exhibit. You're brought to a page with a familiar face. Steve, with no beard and shorter, lighter hair. The infamous war hero.

You flip through, reading about his history, chewing your thumb. You stop at the part about the serum; 'This enhancement gifted Rogers with superstrength, heightened sight and hearing, improved resilience, and quick healing, among other capabilities.'

You rock nervously. That's a bit intimidating. You're not that stupid. You know he's a strong guy, almost invincible by the news stories, but you just never paid that much attention. Never thought of it. He protects people, right? But what damage could he do if he wanted to hurt someone?

Your phone vibrates. You flinch at the sight of his name. He made you take his number before you left the shop.

'I'll pick you up at 10. Wiil need to check-in for flight early.'

You send back a thumbs up. He's quick to reply.

'Is that a yes?'

You huff.

'Yes, Captain', you key in.

[01zfan]

takeout

wonbin x reader | 4.5k words

taking a crack at a darker kind of fic on this page. i understand that this might not be for everyone so please heed the content warnings before you proceed.

contains: wonbin and the reader are dating but not really, toxic relationship, descriptions of depression, eating mentioned, cheating mentioned and implied, reader doesn’t cum

You didn’t bother texting Wonbin that you’d be showing up at his place. The entrance to his building was left propped open with a stick, you walked through with the delivery driver that came in on his bike. You walked up the stairs when the man looked confused checking door numbers, clearing each uneven step until you made it to Wonbin’s floor. You stepped on unfinished and discarded tiling, past the dirty walls of the staircase until you knew where you were. 

You came down the hallway, listening to your tired feet and the plastic bag in your hand rustle. You checked your phone, it was too late to be here and you knew Wonbin wouldn’t respond even if you told him you had food with you. You just stared at his unit number for the longest, before you finally reached forward, looking in the peephole like you could see him and knocking. 

He was in the middle of that lull in his mind that came with cold weather, and all effects usually came at the expense of the people around him. He spent all day on his phone but wouldn’t message anyone back, he was probably starving in the common area of his apartment if he actually made it out of bed today. 

You imagined him trudging through his apartment when you knocked for the third time, hitting the door with the side of your fist instead of gently with your knuckles. You were sure his neighbors were tired of you coming by. You knew that Wonbin was tired of you too. When he became like this he also started showing a distaste of you for some reason. Like you were a bother even if you came by after your shift with food for him because you knew he hadn’t eaten all day. 

He answered the door only after you knocked with your fist a third time. His black shirt was loose and his hair was getting to the length where he couldn’t maintain it. When he opened the door fully you saw his collarbones were jutting out a little more than usual, and he had that bored look in his eye. He even stood like he was caving in on himself, not hiding the bad posture his mom always chided him for. If she was here now she would’ve told him he needed to change, and that she knew he has probably been in that shirt for days. But since it was only you, Wonbin did nothing to hide the annoyance like he usually did. He didn’t even change his gaze up to your hands when you showed him you didn’t come empty handed, he couldn’t even spare you a greeting.

“Why are you knocking like the police?” Wonbin looked down the hallway like you would bring company or like he cared what his neighbors thought of him. “I didn’t know you were coming by.” He continued.

“You weren’t answering.” You answer his interrogation, and you match the his expression.

You look past him into his apartment, and Wonbin still stands in the way like you’re not welcome.

“Did you bring my sweater?” He asks.

You knew he was talking about that hoodie with the ugly design on the back that he claimed cost him an entire paycheck. He alternated between wanting you to keep that raggedy hoodie forever and demanding it back. Sometimes he even talked about matching but refused to tell you the site, making you think he was going to buy one of his own. But he had a distaste for you right now, even if you showed up with food during his time of expecting someone to anticipate his needs. 

He didn’t even let you answer where his hoodie was before he walked through the open door of his dark apartment. You didn’t bother answering as you followed him in and turned on the light by the door. 

“Your place is a fucking mess, Bin.” You turned on the light to the entryway to reveal his scattered pairs of shoes that were normally in a straight line by the door. The light revealed the waste too. All the empty takeout boxes, napkins, unopened mail, dirty dishes. There was only a few spots left on the counter where the takeout wouldn’t touch Wonbin’s other trash. You took in a deep breath through your nose, making sure Wonbin could see you before you grimaced. “And what the Hell is that smell?” 

Wonbin finally snapped out of whatever benevolent trance he was in and turned around to face you. His hair was coming down to his eyes, the speed he turned made the hair that wisped his neck come forward until it touched his chin. The ends curled at the base of his neck. The parts he turcked behind his ear even became loose, framing his face perfectly. 

“Did you come over here just to shame me?” Wonbin asked and your silence answered his question. He sits down on his couch and sighs loud, reaching past an empty soda can to grab the remote to the television. You sigh back just as loud as you take off your jacket, and when you feel Wonbin’s eyes on you again you make sure to raise your shoulders and drop them. He scoffs at you mocking him and he starts flipping through his streaming services. “I didn’t ask you to come here.”

“Your friends couldn’t reach you, so they started calling me instead.”

You know Wonbin knows his friends have sent out the well wishes because he doesn’t say anything back to you. He just messes with the remote, going between channels on his television like he knows what’s going on.

Wonbin doesn’t ask you for anything. He just assumes he’ll get what he wants because that’s how his entire life has been thus far. He was probably rotting underneath the covers of his bed thinking about how badly he wanted yangyeom chicken from that place too far to order on delivery apps and here you were. 

You were one of many at Wonbin’s beck and call, his orderly during the winter months and something romantic but moreso physical during the rest of the year. But Wonbin kept you around because you were one of the few people that didn’t bend completely. You figured a long time ago that if you took care of him you reserved the right to mock him in his wallowing every now and then. You were good for him, one of the few people that didn’t coddle him completely. 

If he wanted to protest too much you’d disappear from his life forever, and take the delivery food and expensive hoodie and Netflix login with you. If Wonbin wanted to lecture you about how terrible the winter months were for him and how you didn’t understand you could show him what the summer months were like for you. You both could be decrepit and starving yourselves because you’re too lazy to get out of bed. Atleast you manage to will yourself to go to work. Wonbin must’ve used up all his sick hours a long time ago, because his work clothes are lazily draped over the couch on the side opposite of him. Maybe he was actually moving around before you banged on his door. 

Still though, you know he hasn’t eaten yet. He looks to you and then his chicken on the counter, the logo of the store breaks through him pretending he knows what he’s going to watch. You silently bring him the chicken and clean up some of the trash on the way, dumping it into his almost full and smelly trashcan. When you finish you check his fridge that you already know will be empty. There’s only takeout from a previous day and a lonely jar of kimchi and white rice next to it. You eye the last soda right in front of you and you can hear Wonbin stop clicking from different streaming channels. 

You don’t hesitate to take last soda for yourself, cracking it open and then to Wonbin’s dismay drinking it. You take a long sip and he pouts in between smacking his lips between bites of food. You let the fridge stay open until it starts beeping at you, and when half of the soda is gone and Wonbin is about to protest with a mouth full of food you finally give in. You sit on the couch right next to him and hand him the soda. He doesn’t even thank you before he grabs the can and takes a drink himself.

He’s is too inconsiderate. He grabbed the can with his sauce covered fingers, knowing you won’t want to touch it. He’s disgusting, because you’re sure there’s some trace of chicken and sauce floating in the backwash of the soda. He’s so selfish, because he hasn’t said thank you once, and he’s the worst because he isn’t withholding gratitude on purpose. He’s terrible on complete accident, because he’s been taken care of his whole life that he never learned you’re supposed to show gratitude when people go out of their way for someone else. He’s too much, because everyone in his life eventually passes him off to someone else because he’s demanding without even voicing it. There’s just something overbearing about his big eyes and pouty lips, it makes you want to work tirelessly until you have nothing left.

Other attributes are the only reason he’s made it this far. The perpetual trepidatious look in his eye, his lips that are always pulled in a pout, his tendency to pick at his fingers. You find yourself babying Wonbin and taking care of him because you’ve convinced yourself he can’t do it himself—even if he’s flirted with all of your friends and you’re positive he’s fucked atleast one of them. 

Knowing that you’re his caretaker doesn’t make the load any lighter. Irony can only get you so far and babying a grown man as an adult with your own set of problems is pathetic no matter how you spin it. Even if you grimace at the way Wonbin burps and doesn’t say excuse me you still find some sort of joy in seeing him eat food that you came all this way to bring him. You find yourself feeling full even if you bought an extra portion with yourself in mind. Wonbin just packs the leftovers up and puts it in his fridge before walking off to his bathroom. You’re left in his common area until you walk on tired feet to his couch. The only thing to show for his gratitude is the television remote in your lap. You take the liberty to put on a movie because you know what’s going to happen next. He’s taking extra long in the restroom for a reason, you can hear the water run and the sound of him brushing his teeth.

He comes around the corner with the edges of his hair wet, framing his face as he sits on the other side of you. His inconsideration for your favorite spot on the couch forces you to scoot to the other side, right in front of the dirty soda can that has dried sauce on it. Wonbin ignores everything again when he comes close to you, an obvious hand reaching behind you to rest on the top of the sofa.

“You always take such good care of me.” Wonbin turns to you before the movie can even finish loading. He’s already turning down the volume and slinking closer to your side of the couch. Past the division of the cushions, his hand is on your thigh, squeezing and covering as much space as he can. “Did you come straight from work?”

You don’t turn away from the television. You read the subtitles because Wonbin turned it down to the point that you can’t hear anything and you’re trying your best to delay what you know is coming next. 

“These are my work clothes.” You say.

Wonbin doesn’t have to say anything else. Because one of his purposes in life is to be taken care of he’s too easy to read. You know that he doesn’t try to hide his wants you to take care of him. What pushed you guys from friends to whatever you were now was a blowjob because he was complaining about lack of action. When you relate Wonbin to Pavlovs’ dog it makes alot of sense. You fed him and took care of him, it’s only right that what Wonbin is hinting at happens next.

You do hate him though. You’re sure he knows it, because he knows you hate selfish people and Wonbin is convinced that no one experiences anything like he does. No one understands weariness or the feeling like something is wrong. No one understands how short his attention span is and how he can do nothing to mend it. But his looks do get him far. When you turn to look at him your sarcasm falls flat. All disdain is gone, it’s all about him and his face that’s so close to yours. You always do take such good care of him. He fucked your friend while you two were on a break, and you were never official to begin with. 

You lean in first but Wonbin kisses you rough, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before adding pressure behind his bite. You whimper into his mouth because you know it’s what he likes to hear, and you push your hands underneath his gray shirt to drag your hands up his bare back. He was so cold, just waiting for you in this apartment. You end right at the base of his neck, just so you can tangle your fingers in his long hair and grip his neck. That makes him perk up, and he starts guiding you down towards the back of the couch.

Wonbin is on top of you, kissing you like his life depends on it. The low volume of the movie is drowned out from the sloppy sounds he makes. Another wet kiss to your lips and he’s trailing down, leaving a mess on your neck. He’s bound to leave a mark soon like you’re his, and you have to tighten your hold on the back of his neck to remind him he can’t. Your work blouse is like a guideline, but he doesn’t even think to pay attention. He only picks at the top button and moans against the laved skin of your neck. You take your hands away from his body and start at the bottom of your blouse, working your way up because he stopped trying to undo them himself. 

You’re already exhausted. A whole work day just to drive here in the worst traffic, then you have to put in the effort to moan and undress yourself. The disdain comes back and you want to mock the way he grinds on your leg. You know Wonbin has about a minute of being on top left in him, this weak foreplay is wasting time. You’re have a shift in the morning and you have to get home before traffic keeps you here. 

You can tell immediately that Wonbin wants you to be on top. He messes up when he hikes one of your legs in the bend of his arm to grind directly on your crotch. He loses his balances and accidentally presses to much of his body against yours. You wheeze out a breath and he tries to cover up his blunder by kissing your neck. You grip the back of his neck harder, holding his other shoulder to keep him up. In the dim glow from the television you can see him. His stretched gray shirt reveals the freckles in his neck and back that you partially cover. His hair falling out of place completely covers his eyes. You can see down the space between your two bodies, his dick pushing against the fabric of his black sweatpants before he drags it against your heat again. 

Wonbin tilts his head back. He’s beautiful but so pathetic. Whatever he’s doing doesn’t excite you nearly as much as it does for him. He knows this is embarrassing, because when he’s looking back down at you with his lip is caught between his teeth.

“Can I put it in?” He’s already reaching a single hand down between your two bodies. For a moment you think he’s going to help you, but instead he just pushes at the waistband of his slacks until his dick is free. It bobs in the cold air and he hisses again. “Please?”

Wonbin has about thirty seconds of being on top left in him and you can tell he wants you to withhold something, to try your luck with him. Wonbin is by no means a freak, but you know there’s something that lays beneath the surface. From the way he likes to be doted on and taken care of you’re sure there’s a dormant urge to call you mommy, he’s just waiting for you to take the first step. The way he rots in bed makes you think there’s something that has to do with pain right next to it, maybe even something akin to humiliation. But you are too busy doing all the work to do anything beyond what it takes to make him cum. You do your part, you pull at his hair until he hisses from the pain and you tell him it feels good everytime you make eye contact. But most of you time you’re focused on yourself, because it has been getting harder and harder to cum when you think about Wonbin.

“Put it in, Bin.” You say it gently instead of ordering, because you refuse to go above and beyond. You already had to work your pants down your body while still keeping his body up. If you combined it with a hair tug his plump lips part and you can see his front teeth. This will just have to do. Wonbin shuffles forward and you raise your hips to make it easier for him. “Wanna feel you.” 

Your work pants hit the floor and Wonbin nods. He’s too lazy to guid his dick inside, letting it bump into your clit again and again until he finally finds the hole. You nod again and he goes forward.

Hearing Wonbin is rewarding. He slides into you and lets out a high-pitched moan everytime without fail. Like your pussy is the first thing he’s ever fucked, and the only thing that can temporarily distract him from the hole he’s found himself in. There’s no holding back and he does it right into your ear. He’s always slow sliding in, so slow that you have to wrap your legs around his waist to push him in the rest of the way. When his hips are flush against yours he always lets his head hang low—whether it’s from euphoria, shame, focus—you never know. You just focus on drawing your hips back and doing it again, until Wonbin’s hands digs into the cushion beside your head and you feel more of his weight on top of your body. 

“Can you get on top?”

This was a new record. Not even two pumps in and he’s already tapping out. In the beginning you used to pat yourself on the back, like you were some sort of succubus draining Wonbin of life. But he’s just lazy. There’s no drive to fuck you, even if he’s initiated it. He hates doing the work and he hates being on top and he hates when the attention isn’t on him. Even when you were at your lowest you were still doing something. When you were at your happiest you were going through Wonbin’s friend group, flirting so you could remember what it was like to talk to someone who wanted to fuck you.

You don’t say anything to Wonbin when you tap on his shoulder. He pulls out of you with a shudder and you get off the couch completely, taking off your work uniform completely. Wonbin sits up against the armrest of the couch to kick off his sweats the rest of the way. He waits for you to get back on the couch in only your socks to guide him out of his shirt, balling it up and throwing it out of the way.

His dick is against his stomach. He twitches every time you move, the longer you stare down at him the more he starts to writhe too. You want him to feel uncomfortable, you want him to look down with you. You buy him chicken and share soda with him but he can’t even be bothered to be on top. 

“What do you want me to do, princess?” Instantly Wonbin’s eyebrows knit together. You can see the embarrassed flush on his tanned skin, brushing underneath his cheeks. You’ve heard the mocking name his friends call him. Eunseok was the one that texted you tonight asking if you could check on the princess. The nickname always made Wonbin defiant, but even when he shakes his head he says nothing. His hands that grip your waist get a little tighter, but his lips are parted again in a mindless act and he looks at you like you’re lost. “You want me to do all the work, right?” You press further.

Wonbin still says nothing the second time around. Even when you say it with a sneer and you grab his dick a little to hard and a little too sudden he does nothing. He just presses further into the couch in anticipation, his pupils shaking already. You raise your hips up and you can see him draw in a deep breath, until his chest lifts up his shirt and he shakes.

You’re still locked on Wonbin’s expression when you sink down on him. He can’t stop himself from closing his eyes in euphoria and gripping your waist too tight. His head tilts back and he almost sounds like he’s in pain. A moan that’s a whimper, then it’s drawn out when you raise above him again. 

You look around his mess of an apartment as you ride him. Your legs should be burning from exertion but you barely go above the minimum. Even if you were to just grind your hips against Wonbin you’re positive something so little would be enough for him. He prefers to be pampered but he’s so low maintenance. You look at the state he’s living in. Nothing is in his fridge but there’s sprouting potatoes on his counter. You’re amazed he’s made it this far.

“Baby.” Finally a sound breaks through his moans. You look down at his half-lidded eyes that squeeze shut when you purposefully clamp around him. He’s too easy, it’s almost sad how easy he is. Maybe there is something about him that no one else will understand, because he’s a mystery. He could be more of a tease, he’s lacking something to the point that you project your own toxicity onto him. Maybe he truly has no clue, because he has tears in his eyes when you’ve barely broken a sweat. “I’m close.” He whines.

You stop leaning over him to lean back instead. Until your hands are planted behind you on his thighs for stability, you start swiveling your hips. It’s a simple motion, but Wonbin grips your waist and keeps his eyes on you like you’ve never done this for him before. You moan for his benefit and he instantly surpasses your volume. You’re inclined to reach forward and clasp a hand over his mouth, because the walls in this shitty apartment building are thin and he’s talked about rude looks from his neighbors in the mailroom. But Wonbin is unbothered. Another whimper bounces off the walls, higher pitched than yours and infinitely more wrecked. You turn towards the television, letting Wonbin’s greedy hands partially move your hips the way he needs. The new season of The White Lotus looks good. You would’ve loved to watch the episode with your undivided attention. You’ll have to turn it on when you get home.

Wonbin doesn’t ask if you are close. He lets go of the bruising grip on your waist to drag his hand down, until he touches your clit too rough and picks a speed too fast. You’ve tried correcting his technique before, but he couldn’t be bothered. You just let him think he’s doing the right thing because you’ve made it this far. You watch the television from a sideways angle and moan. You match Wonbin’s volume, you dig your nails into his leg until his muscles clench underneath you. Traffic is going to be terrible if you don’t leave soon. He’s invited you to stay before, but the only thing he offered was the couch and a scratchy blanket that left you shivering in the middle of the night. Wonbin got his big comfortable bed, claiming that he can’t sleep with other people. 

“Bin.” You reach back forward, pulling his head that was facing the couch cushions to look directly at you. It changes your angle and the way your hips move, but it was the right thing to do. Wonbin’s lip is bitten from terrible attempts to keep his noises muted. When you start riding him again another sound slips out, but he looks up to you with his big eyes to let you know he’s trying to listen. “You said you were going to cum, right?” Wonbin nods, head still in your hands. You smile and pick up the pace, going further than his hand was guiding you. 

He goes back to gripping you helplessly, his head pressed into the armrest. He abandoned your clit entirely, favoring your chest. His calloused hands are nice, and the way he’s touching you so close to your heart makes you impartial to him. You do like taking care of him, even when he has spit dribbling from the corner of his mouth and he’s no help. 

Wonbin lets himself get fucked by you one more time then he’s pulling at you, until your chest is flush to his and he lets out a pained grunt into your ear. You feel the warmth, you can still smell the chicken on him as he ruts into you. He can only exert himself to grind against you twice before he’s slumped against the couch, more drained than how you found him. He’s heaving out breaths, then whining because your body weight on him is too much.

When you sit up and see him again, his hair is wrecked. The flush is splotchy on every part you see of him. Even passed the stretched collar of his shirt. He slides further down until he doesn’t have to lean on the armrest, you raise your body off of him to accommodate. He still twitches inside of you, and the only change in his blissed out face is to cringe from the overstimulation and the wet noises you too make. He was never around for the cleanup, choosing to let the sweat and other bodily fluids dry on his skin. He turns to watch the television too, but you see his eyes begin to droop and his breathing go back to normal. You run your hands through his long hair once then twice, just to get it out of his eyes.

“You should cut your hair Bin, or atleast wash it.” You hum it this time, running your hands through his hair again. "It's so oily."

He only murmurs, hands leaving your body completely to rest on his chest. Your stomach rumbles and Wonbin’s eyes close fully. 

[natequarter]

HALF-FACE MAN: I will not die. I will reach the promised land. DOCTOR: There isn't any promised land. This is just— It's a superstition that you have picked up from all the humanity you've stuffed inside yourself. HALF-FACE MAN: I am not dead.

DOCTOR: Perhaps they haven't let you in on the secret, Login. Shall I tell him, gentlemen?  GARIF: Secret?  DOCTOR: Yes! And the fraud of perpetual movement. The endless tasks going round and round. The same old components being removed and replaced.  LOGIN: No, Doctor, that's too harsh. The preparations are necessary.  DOCTOR: Preparations? For what? This Starliner isn't going anywhere.

DOCTOR: I am alone. The world which shook at my feet, and the trees and the sky, have gone. And I am alone now. Alone. CLARA: Are you translating? DOCTOR: The wind bites now, and the world is grey, and I am alone here. Can't see me. Doesn't see me. Can't see me. CLARA: Who can't see it? I think all of London can see it.

WILF: Yeah, but I thought, when I saw you before, you said your people could change, like, your whole body.  DOCTOR: I can still die. If I'm killed before regeneration, then I'm dead. Even then, even if I change, it feels like dying. Everything I am dies. Some new man goes sauntering away, and I'm dead. 

ANDRED: I didn't know you were cursed just as we are. LEELA: Cursed? ANDRED: With living long enough to experience the consequences of our own actions, down through the centuries.

NEFRED: You accuse us of wilful procrastination?  DOCTOR: Yes! The wilful procrastination of endless procedure. You want to hold onto the old order.  NEFRED: You understand a great deal, Doctor.  DOCTOR: True.  NEFRED: But not everything.  DOCTOR: That's certainly true.

TORVALD: Your continuity, Madam. A circle of misery that never, ever ends.

DOCTOR: Lethbridge-Stewart? My dear fellow, how nice to see you again.  MUNRO: He knows you, sir.  BRIGADIER: But he can't do. Look here. Can you hear me? Who are you?  DOCTOR: Don't you recognise me?  BRIGADIER: I'm positive we've never met before.  DOCTOR: Oh, dear. Oh, I can't have changed that much, surely? 

LEELA: You pretend to be one thing when you are really another, you have lived your life behind a mask for so long that now that mask is your own face.

LEELA: My one heart knows the truth. You have two hearts just as you have two faces, and neither speaks the truth. ANDRED: I didn't set out to betray you, Leela. I was confused after the regeneration. You know what it's— No. No, you don't know what it's like. How could you?

DOCTOR: How long can I keep doing this, Clara? Burning the old me, to make a new one?

DOCTOR: Can't I ever have peace? Can't I rest?  BILL: Of course you can.  NARDOLE: It's your choice.  BILL: Only yours.  NARDOLE: We understand.  DOCTOR: No. No, you don't. You're not even really here. You're just memories held in glass. Do you know how many of you I could fill? I would shatter you. My testimony would shatter all of you. A life this long, do you understand what it is? It's a battlefield, like this one, and it's empty. Because everyone else has fallen.

LIZ: Do you know him?  BRIGADIER: What? No, I thought I might do, but he's a complete stranger. I've never seen him before in my life.

CARDINAL: Pope Benedict said that you were more in need of confession than any man breathing. But when the offer was made, you replied it would take too much time. On behalf of the Catholic Church, the offer stands. You seem like a man with regret on his mind.

DOCTOR: You are a broom. Question. You take a broom, you replace the handle, and then later you replace the brush, and you do that over and over again. Is it still the same broom? Answer? No, of course it isn't. But you can still sweep the floor. Which is not strictly relevant, skip that last part. You have replaced every piece of yourself, mechanical and organic, time and time again. There's not a trace of the original you left. You probably can't even remember where you got that face from.

[midnight-mourning]

Valentine's is Over! What now?

Hello! This is a bit of an update post now that DCA Valentine's has finsihed up. Feel free to read what you want (though I suggest at least skimming all of it so you're aware of what's happening with me) and make sure to vote in the polls!

Starting first and foremost, thank you to everyone who submitted requests! They were all genuinely lots of fun and I hope the stories I wrote for them were enjoyable ^^ Couldn't have done the event without y'all so thank you for the lovely ideas

@rosescarletful @amarynthian-chronicles @dangerva @alynwrench

@luckyyyduckyyy @fishm0ther @juukai @divinit3a @zenkaiankoku

@starspindle @that-one-unknown-artist @milosmantis @pip-plz

Secondly, I want to give a MASSIVE thank you to the lovely wonderful amazing artists who volunteered to make doodles for the stories!! Everyone killed it and I'm so very appreciative of you taking the time to make things for my silly bits of writing shfkjsdkljflks Like seriously, it was so flattering to have people initially reach out/agree and then even more so to see the art you made as a results i just AHHHH I CANT SAY THANK YOU ENOUGH, appreciate you guys very much guhhhh <333333

@divinit3a @cozycitrus @soupdweller @juukai

HIGHLY reccommend everyone to go check out their blogs & content in general, everyone makes soooo cool art and oooo you wanna go give them some love soooo bad

Alright, with that, let's get into the meat of things; what's next?

put under the break bc there's several things happening, again skim if you want but make sure to do the poll though!

Gen writing update

I had a few requests come in after they closed (no worries to those who did so! I know it was a little confusing regarding such) so i'll be writing those when i get the chance and sending them out into the world, beyond that however, any request-based things are closed (for now) if I get any during this closed period I'm sorry but I'll have to ignore them/not do them. I'm too busy with life/other wips to add them to my list, sorry!

Holiday Spirit is going to be my writing focus for the next couple weeks! It's about halfway done and I'd like it finished so I can move on with things lol

Confused spirit is going to take a bit, as like i've said before I'm writing multiple chapters back to back for the purpose on ensuring proper flow/building my buffer back up, i know it's been a bit but believe me it's been on my mind guhh

In general i have some shorter form content/drabbles & oneshots I want to write, so be on the lookout for those >:)c

Speaking on all of the above, if you want to stay up to date with my writing, I highly reccommend joining the tag list i have! My things tend to get buried otherwise >-< Just tell me you'd like added and I'll include you :)

Poll!

I've done requests now for December/holidays, and Valentine's now too. There's no major holidays coming up for a while, BUT there is an event, in May... specifically... So,

Additionally, since the art aspect of Valentine's went so well, I'll probably look for artists again to do some drawing and will run it pretty similar to this time, so if you're interested lmk :)c

Comments & Asks

While I won't be posting/active for a few weeks, I WILL be going through and answering comments, asks, and so on from people that have been collecting in my inbox oof

PLEASE know that if you've left a comment or sent me an ask that I've seen it and appreciate it very much!!! I just have not had the time to sit down and properly answer them yet, but i will during this break!

Going Dark

I was saving this for the end just because it sounds worse than it actually is.

I'm going to take a break from posting/tumblr/etc for about a week or two and spend some extra hours doing my research stuff. I'm not behind or anything (and def always put it and school first dw) but I kind of want to try and get ahead with it just because of how strict my timeline to finish is 😅

I also just want a bit of a break from constantly writing and maybe do some other hobbies when im not on the research grind. I'll be back at it (again more casually) in a few weeks tho!

by the time you see this I have already begun lol

Leftover things

Since you're here, here's the link to my writing masterpost that includes 99% of my writing stuff!

I also realized while writing this post that I don't have an actual writing tag for non-event related writing... so i'll be fixing that as well during my break

I've gotten a question or two regarding whether my stuff is commision-based or if I have a kofi (which i'll be replying to that ask directly dw whoever you are...) and my answer to that is not currently! BUT, i'll continue to think on it for those who might be interested, if it's something I do consider doing it'll be a bit from now, but I appreciate the thought from those who asked!

I think that's all, thank you again to the requestors and to the lovely lovely artists for this event, and also thank you to those who liked/reblogged my things during this event! It's very much appreciated and I'm glad people had fun ^^ Bye!

[criswritessometimes]

my hand has yours

contents - gn reader, fluff

authors note // wow! i have time to write! here's a part two of the hand has 27 bones, each of mine misses each of yours. enjoy everyone!

part 1 !!

it was only two days after you called schlatt in the middle of the night. you still missed him like hell; you had for his entire trip in japan. thankfully, you were working from home today, so jambo was sleeping, purring in your lap with soup on the floor by your desk, stretching his back out with his stomach on top. you still had your headphones on, listening to music, and no one was home, but it was still a force of habit. throughout the day, you have an email thread with your coworker talking about advertising. as you’re about to send your next follow-up, your phone buzzes. it’s face down, and you tell yourself you’ll answer it after you finish this email. it buzzes again; you feel the temptation to check it; you just need to finish this. it buzzes again and again. you huff while your hands hover over the keyboard. your phone buzzes one last time. to finally stop the buzzing, you flip your phone over to see the notifications; it’s all from schlatt

from: schlatt <3 hey i forgot my keys can you let me in? delivered: 1:03 pm

toots answer the door delivered: 1:06 pm

babeeeeee delivered: 1:07 pm

(y/n) cmonnnnnn delivered: 1:08 pm

you look at your phone, and your eyebrows knit together. a look of confusion washes over your face. this was a prank that schlatt played on you a few times. there isn’t a front door camera at your house, so occasionally, he would text you that he was at the front door. he just thought it was funny. you look up at the calendar above your monitor and see that the friday is circled with hearts around his name. you shake your head and giggle a little; he’s not gonna get you this time. your coworker sent you a follow-up to your follow-up, and you begin to type your response while going through your download to find the file to send her. through your headphones, you hear the doorbell ringing, and the rings overlap each other, like someone is sitting there constantly pushing it. you take your headphones off, put jambo on the floor, walk out of your and schlatt’s shared home office, and make your way to the front door. someone was messing with you; it was probably the neighbor's kid. you open the door, “listen dillon, i’m working, your mom is prob-” you say, ready to tell the kid to stop and that you’re working, but when you open the door, you see schlatt. you see schlatt. he has that grin on his face, the one where he knows he’s right. you’re stuck at the door, “i told you i forgot my keys!” he reaches in to hug you. you finally come back, feeling like you blacked out; schlatt’s arms are wrapped around you, and your arms are wrapped around his neck. when he pulls away, he sees you have tears pricking in your eyes. “awww, love,” schlatt lightheartedly chuckles, wiping your tears away. you didn’t even register that you were crying and also wipe your tears away, “wait no, i’m ok! good tears!” you reassure him. you step to the side so schlatt can enter through the front door with his suitcases. he shuts it behind him and puts his coat in the coat closet next to the front door. “i just missed you,” your arms wrap around him again once his jacket is off, “a month without you was longer than i thought.” “i know honey, i know,” he holds you for a moment and kisses the top of your head. “i got you something.” he whispers into your hair. you look up at him, “really?” “you say it like it’s a question. of course, i got you something, c’mon.” he rubs your shoulder and motions for the both of you to move. 

you follow him into the bedroom. he sets the suitcase on the ground and unzips it as you sit on the edge of the bed. he takes two suitcases again, this trip. one for his clothes and another for goodies and food to bring back. he shows you some food and spices he got and turns to you when something is behind his back. “close your eyes and hold your hands out,” he tells you. you give him a suspicious look. “it’s not like a bomb or anything, i couldn't' have gotten that through tsa even if i wanted to.” he jokes. you do as he asks and close your eyes while holding your hands out and open; you feel something fuzzy in your hands. you open them when the object stops moving, and schlatt retracts his hands. you’re speechless; it’s a small plushie of your old cat, otis. your family adopted otis when you were 8, and he passed away when you were a junior in college. he was your best friend; all throughout high school, he would sit on you whenever you were home; saying goodbye to him was harder than saying goodbye to your mom. you examine the plushie in your hands like it was made of glass. it had all the same marks in the exact same spots otis had. tears start to fill your eyes again as you look up at schlatt. “i found an artist on twitter who makes custom animal plushes, and i know how much you loved otis, sooo i contacted her and picked it up while i was there. I hope you like it.” schlatt’s eyes are darting around as he tells you, almost as if he’s bashful about the gift. “i love it.” your voice is choked up and small as you tell him, and you stand to hug him again. it’s tight as you press as much love into him as possible. 

you cooked for the both of you for the night. schlatt protested, wanting to keep it easy and get taken, but you told him at least you could do for him. To thank you for dinner, schlatt made a fire in the fireplace in the living room. later in the night, you and schlatt were on the couch; you cuddled into him as one of his arms was wrapped around you. the fire was crackling as the cats lay on the both of you. there’s a movie playing on the television but it’s hard to focus on since you have schlatt next to you and soup on in your lap, purring away. his fingers moved to intertwine with his free hand as the other one was petting soup. “damn (y/n)! your hand is freezing!” his hands wrapping around yours. “yeah, they’ve been cold without you to help warm me up.” schaltt felt his warmth seep into your cold hands as he pulls you into him tighter.

[rainbow-sunshine-unicorn]

Can you explain what you mean abt how productions treats simone? I dont follow any bridgerton official accts are they like saying bad things about her?

Hi Anon!

It has taken me a little bit to get to this one, mostly because I have been genuinely sad about it. Not just in a silly little show way, but viscerally. Not just the way Simone has been treated but to see certain parts of the fandom go out of their way to defend this treatment.

Anyways, I’m adding a link to this unfortunately very long thread the lovely @chrkrose made detailing everything, including things like the Executive Producer calling Kate “a hooker” and Kate being depicted as a lizard on an official Bridgerton collaboration (so the answer to your question of are they saying bad things about her is a resounding yes)

But I will also quickly explain everything that went down post season 3 under the cut

Post Bridgerton season 3, when the cast list for season 4 came out, Simone’s name was not on the cast list. Now, if this was a normal production one would assume that she was not a part of season 4.

But this same writer had left her off the cast list for season 3 AFTER pictures of her from the set had already been leaked. And Simone had said multiple times, during the season 3 part 2 premiere that Kate is here to stay.

So there was considerable confusion among fans and the media as well. Several big outlets, including People, reported on it. There was nada from the production team, not a statement, not a single word, even after all this uproar.

If you’re tempted to think “oh maybe there were scheduling issues to sort out”, don’t be. Because when she won her Glamour award, an interview was released in the magazine. This interview happened earlier than when it was released, it took place somewhere around July 2024, when Bridgerton season 4 was scheduled to start filming. In this interview, she confirmed that she would be on season 4 and spoke about how much Kate Sharma meant to her as a character.

Then when Simone began doing press for her animated film The Night Before Christmas, in interviews, she once again spoke definitively about Kate being in season 4.

Now remember that in all this time, the cast list, that mentions everyone from Anthony to Varley, was still not updated to include Kate. Despite Simone outright confirming her presence 272839 times. And this is the second time a shondaland writer had left her off the cast list after her presence was confirmed.

Finally, during the Valentine’s Day event for season 4, in 2025, mind you, Jess Brownell says, “we are glad to have Jonny back with us for season four, oh and Simone”. And that’s the first statement in all this while mentioning anything about Kate.

And just as a cherry on the this cake, the trailer for season 4 shows every single character BUT Kate. And according to the finally updated cast list, Kate is “additional cast”, even though Anthony is a series regular, despite the fact that Jonny also only filmed for two weeks and both Anthony and Kate will likely appear in a similar amount of episodes.

And this is all just from this time around, the thread I linked has stuff like this from all the way back in season 2. So you can imagine how evident it has been for a very long time.

[viioggvl]

Wally West-League of Shadows

Wally West life story except his mother was also in League of Shadows but no one knows that or suspects it because she’s a quiet and frail lady who puts up with Rudy.

But the only reason she puts up with Rudy is to make sure her son is safe (safe as he can be, I guess..) from her husband. And After Barry and Iris take in Wally (at 10 yo) she leaves Rudy to go back to the League to continue her training or duties or whatever.

So one day (as the Flash) Wally is fighting with the Bat-Family (it was supposed to be a hangout with JUST Dick but he got roped in) against the League when Talia recognizes Wally (Mary took him to the League when he was super young to introduce him to Talia, but a lot of his childhood is suppressed. Thanks Rudy!!) and they have a moment that reminds me of the song “Once Upon A Dream” by Lana Del Ray and everyone is totally confused.

Especially Wally because Talia leaves with no explanation and he’s too confused to even go after her, because what do you mean you “recognize me from when I was a baby”?? I literally have no idea who you are other than the brief understanding Dick gave me??

So Dick goes behind Bruce’s back to help Wally find the answers to his suppressed memories , even bringing along the rest of the Fab Five (optional, they could be in the sequel or just be mentioned). But along the way of their adventure there’s conflict and next thing you know Wally is in the League with his mother, trying to convince himself he’s always wanted a relationship with his far-too-quiet-and-self-absorbed mother.

Dick tries to pull Wally away from the League, but when that doesn’t work he begs Bruce, Damian, and even Jason to talk to Talia to get Wally out of there because he just doesn’t belong! They agree for Dick’s sake, and Talia and Wally finally have a conversation. Talia answers everything for Wally until he finally has a grasp on his early childhood and agrees to leave because Talia is right, his mother is not his mother and never really was. He has his mom, Aunt Iris, and his dad, Uncle Barry, who are more than enough.

And as he returns to makeup with Dick, he gets a letter from Talia, saying how much she was proud of Wally’s short but well-done training, and that she would love to secretly continue. Wally agrees because there’s still a small part of him who wants to be connected to his biological mother’s past.

[atzluvz]

Through blood and roses

A/N : Sorry it took so long time to post this, i got a lil concussion 😭😭 I think chapter 5 will be the last one in this series, though!

Trope: Mafia!san x f!reader

WC: 1k

Summary : San let his guard down once, and it cost him everything. Now, he’s built his walls higher than ever. Living with the weight of his past. But when a kind hearted florist enters his life, his carefully guarded world starts to crack. He swears he won’t make the same mistake twice; but some things are impossible to resist.

Warnings: angst, san opens up for the first time, lwk a true ateez bonding moment here fr

Chapter 2.5

“ I don't blame you, but I can't change you. Don't hate you, but we can't save you.”

The rain hammered the windows with force. The Black pirates sat in a heavy silence around the dimly lit room, each member sensing the tension in the air. Wooyoung had been watching San for days. His quiet but clear concern grows with each passing moment. He knew something was wrong, The question was whether San was ready to face it, or even admit it. He couldn't deny it forever.

Ha was always the one to speak up when no one else would. And finally he broke the silence. “San,” Wooyoungs voice was low, full of understanding. “Whatever thats been eating at you, you don’t have to carry it alone. We’re here for you. You know that, right?”

San didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the rain-soaked view outside the window,. The others waited, giving each other shared knowing looks, recognizing the unspoken weight San carried.

Finally, after a deep breath, San spoke. His voice cracked slightly. “It’s just... her. It's getting bad again.”

Wooyoung’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Her?” he echoed softly

Sans's voice came out strained, a mixture of guilt and regret. “The girl I... failed,” he whispered, barely above a breath.

The room froze. Yeosang exchanged a look with Jongho, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. They didn’t need to ask for further explanation; they knew what he meant. They knew San’s history, the traumatic event that had shaped him into the man he was now.

But it was Wooyoung who spoke up again, not letting San retreat back into silence. “That’s not the only thing, though, is it?” Wooyoung asked, his voice careful. “You’re still holding something back. Something bigger.”

San’s gaze shifted toward him then, his eyes dark with an emotion the others couldn’t quite name. For a moment, there was a flash of something vulnerable, something desperate.

A long silence followed, and San slowly exhaled.

“It’s Y/N,” he admitted,

The others exchanged confused looks. Y/N? They didn’t know who this person was: none of them did. They had only seen flashes of something between San and someone new,nothing more. And now, here San was, just laying it out there.

“Y/N?” Wooyoung echoed, stepping closer to him,“Who are they?”

San swallowed hard, struggling to put into words the whirlwind of emotions you had stirred in him. He never thought he’d have to talk about you to anyone. You were his weakness, his most vulnerable spot. Revealing that felt like handing over his soul.

“She’s...” San’s voice stuttered for a second. He cleared his throat, then continued. “She’s... everything. She’s been making me feel alive again, for the first time in forever. I never thought I could feel something like this. I thought I was broken, that I was just... empty. But when I’m with her, I feel like I can breathe again. Like I’m not the same person I was before. I want to be better for her.”

Wooyoung leaned forward, his eyes softening in understanding. “So this Y/N... shes the reason you’ve been shutting yourself off, right?”

San nodded softly, “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “ I’m afraid. Afraid that if I let myself get close to her, if I let myself care about her too much... I’ll lose Y/N. Just like I lost her.”

The pain in his words was unmistakable. Spreading the sorrow through everyone in the room.

“You’re scared of repeating the same mistake,” Hongjoong finally spoke up, the understanding in his tone clear. “You think that if you love Y/N, something bad will happen to her too.”

San’s eyes were distant as he nodded. " I promised I would protect her. I promised I would never let anything happen to her, but I couldn’t keep that promise.”

“San, you can’t keep punishing yourself for something you couldn’t control. What happened in the past isn’t your fault. You did your best, but you can’t carry that weight forever. And Y/N? Shes not her. Shes not the one you lost. You have to stop seeing her through that lens. You can’t keep pushing them away because of your own fear.” Seonghwa suddenly added, his tone laced with a feeling of anger.

Jongho nodded in agreement, his expression softer than usual. “You have to be honest with yourself, San. You can’t protect someone by keeping them at a distance. You can’t protect anyone if you’re not willing to let them in. But you have to trust her, you have to trust yourself.”

San closed his eyes, trying to steady his breath, feeling the weight of their words pressing down on him. The storm inside him raged, torn between the need to protect Y/N and the overwhelming fear that he would fail her just like he had failed the one he couldn’t save.

“I can’t do this again,” San whispered, almost to himself.

Wooyoung placed a hand on San’s shoulder, grounding him. “You won’t lose her, San. But you have to let go of the past. You have to be able to live in the present with Y/N,.You can’t keep running.”

San opened his eyes, staring down at the floor for a long moment, his heart heavy with the truth of what they were saying. He had to let go. But the fear was still there. How could he let go of something that had been a part of him for so long?

Yeosang’s voice cut through the silence again. “We’re not saying you have to forget. But you can’t keep living like this. You have to give Y/N a chance; give yourself a chance. You’re not the same person you were before.”

San looked up at them, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. “I don’t know if I can,” he said quietly. “But I’ll try.”

Wooyoung smiled softly. “That’s all we ask for, San. We’re with you. And Y/N? She's with you too. But you have to let go of your fear.”

The room fell back into a deep silence, and the rain continued to pour outside. But somewhere beyond the dark tainted clouds, the sun started to shine.

Chapter 3: Y si fuera ella - OUT NOW !!

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny covered his nose with his hand. Where ever he landed smelled absolutely foul, like rotten fruit and burning tires mixed with chem lab.

"Remind me to bring a face mask the next time I explore the Infinite Realms." He muttered, before kicking a soda can down the alley he was in and being repulsed by the squelch sound it made when it came into contact with a very questionable looking puddle, "Better yet, a gas mask." He glanced at the puddle again, "Or I could go full Hazmat." Clockwork had told him this world was full of superheros and villians and to steer clear of it, but once he learned there were aliens in this world he couldn't help himself. Danny had always been weak to his curiosity, but he liked to believe he was cautious, and chose to stay in his Phantom for for added protection.

Turning on his heel he exited onto a deserted street lined on one side by a chain-link fence. The sky above him was filled with clouds so ominous and dark that Danny honestly couldn't tell you if it was night or day, all he knew was that it was going to rain soon and hopefully these awful smells would be drowned out by the downpour.

Danny got his wish only minutes later. Thankfully Phantom was unbothered by the cold and could just bask in the rain as it fell apon him. A lesser known fact about ghosts is that thier clothes are made from thier ectoplasm and are part of thier bodies, much like a second layer of skin, so one would be able to feel things on thier clothes as easily as they would with thier bare skin. The level of sensitivity varies with the type of clothing however. All this to say Danny loved the feeling of the rivulets of rainwater traveling down his ghostly hazmat suit.

He was so preoccupied with enjoying the sensation that he didn't notice anything was wrong until he was jolted forward from the weight of someone landing on his back. The person was quick and precise, taking no time at all to have his wrists pinned behind his back and- weirdly enough- thier teeth digging into the material around his neck.

His parents designed the Hazmat suit Danny was wearing not only to deal with dangerous chemicals, but to fight supernatural foes. The area around the neck was reinforced with the intention of protecting against fatal gunshots and decapitations so naturally someone's jaw wasn't going to be enough to break through to his neck.

Danny let out a laugh as the person kept chewing on his neck like a confused puppy. Oh, Danny thought, they've gone feral. It was odd for someone to go feral but it could occur when a person has gone through something traumatic recently or through extreme stress. It made sense since the person ridding piggy back on him was dressed like a superhero. Danny wondered if that was why the person didn't have a scent. Danny learns facepalmed when he remembered that scentblockers existed and not everyone's scent dramatically changed whenever they went out as a hero. The scent change was probably one of the few things that have kept him alive up to this point to be honest.

"So, I guess you're not going to tell me why you're chewing on my neck like the worlds most pathetic vampire, are you?" No one deserves that title more than the fruitloop to be honest. He made a mental note to use that one against Vlad the next time he saw him.

Chewy whined at this, seeming to slump a bit from the apparent failure to bite him. What was that about? Was this actually a vampire? How would a vampire even react to Dannys ecto-blood combo meal anyway? Would it be like food poisoning? Or would it taste amazing from one undead to another. "I'm not exactly human, are you sure you wanna bite me? I might not taste so good." Danny warned, but the moment he mentioned letting the person bite him they were eager again.

Danny chuckled and unzipped the material only a bit before it was loose enough to move out of the way. The vampires bite came with a sharp pain like he expected but there was no suction. No drinking of blood. Just some weirdo biting Danny on the neck. Huh.

Danny hoped he didn't get rabies from this.

He must have accidentally said that out loud as there was a small laugh from the rooftops above them. There stood another person in a superhero outfit with some really tall dude dressed as a giant bat, and that was when Danny decided to bail. It was one thing to let a maybe vampire bite you in a random street in the middle of the night but more of them? And ones a big scary furry? Hard pass.

Phantom did as Phantoms do and went invisible and intangible, escaping from Biteys jaws and startling the heros. He ignored the distressed whine Munchy let out after loosing their spookyest chew toy and quickly rubbed the scent gland near dannys jaw on the top of thier head as an act of comfort before bolting.

----

Danny poked at the bite mark on his neck. Screw rabies, he better not get turned into a werewolf. He didn't need that on top of his ghostly crap. Sam seemed fascinated by the mark, after all, it wasn't every day that Danny got a scar, especially one so obvious. Most injuries heal quickly and leave no trace of him ever being injured in the first place which helped a lot in keeping his secret identity.

Luckily Danny hadn't needed to lie to mom and dad. He truthfully told them about some wierdo jumping off of a nearby rooftop and plunging thier teeth into his neck and that two other people had tried to corner him during this. He assured his mom that he had gotten away quickly but was a little shaken by it and his dad praised him for being brave and managing to escape.

That was nice. But he still had to figure out what was up with this bite...and why he felt so compelled to go back to that city.

Back to that hero.

-----

Aka an A/B/O au where in Danny's universe all the Alphas are extinct and the betas followed soon after and the DC universe all the Omegas went extinct and betas followed after . Not like a "they finally went extinct in the 1700s after centuries of thier numbers dwindling" thing and became a myth/fairytale (tho I like that too) but a "this might be the missing link between cave men and modern humans" kinda thing.

Its up to you which bat bit Danny and exactly what that means. I love abo aus without smut cause there's so much potential for chaos and I am very much ace.

[just-null]

there wasn't a slice of life moment with these idiots so i took matters into my own hands... this is my modern au (kimetsu gakuen adjacent?) hence their designs.

[captions i was too lazy to add under the cut]

[penny-and-agatha]

to mod: are the anons only digital beings or can we interact with Penny and Agatha ?

depends! think of it as either sending an email in, or being a guest in their home! for example, you can hand them things or pet Sandwich, but it's not the same as sending messages telepathically/influencer style. you can also ask questions privately + individually. some of their answers take the form of flashbacks, like meeting in the hospital ^_^ if anyone has other questions like this, lmk!

[bidokja]

I thought you kin kdj?

anon i hope this is a joke cause if this is a genuine question it is the singlemost scathing read i have ever recieved in my life 👏 bravo

[ratatatastic]

local man haunts (me) open practise yet again more news at 11

[oceanwithinsblog]

i have no idea whatsoever about who the killer(s) might be this season, but i AM worried to death that LORETTA is in huuuuuge danger !!!! SAVE MY LORETTA !!!! YOU WILL NOT HAVE HER DIE TOO

[broke-on-books]

Days since last cried in class: 0