#how op wrote the panic attack

[m-musings]

okokokok, i LOVE how you wrote the overwatch boys, and I have a kind of long-winded request for Cassidy, Hanzo, Genji, and (if you write for him) Ramattra:

their s/o was previously a test subject for Talon experiments, something they have nightmares about. how would the boys react to their partner having one of said nightmares and trying to attack the person trying to wake them up.

ik this is kinda specific, but thank you if you write it! ♡♡♡♡

A/n: oooo this is a good request, let's hope my angsty writing chops are up to par bcuz i really hope this lives up to what you want (hcs under the cut!)

Warnings: general angst, accidental physical violence, mentions & implications of past torture (also op doesn't really know how to write nightmares/night terrors asdfghjkl) Word Count:1586

Headcanons: Cassidy, Genji, Hanzo and Ramattra with a Former Talon Test Subject S/O (Separate)

Cassidy:

When Cassidy awakes in the middle of the night to the sound of you fiercely muttering at no one, its safe to say he's concerned.

He listens for a moment as you make alarmed noises, trying to discern what exactly is going on.

After turning over to flip on the light, he glances over at your sleeping form thrashing around with your brow furrowed in terror.

"N-no... get a...away f-from me..." Cassidy hears you say clearly, getting more worried by the second.

As he begins to reach over to try and rouse you from your slumber, the volume of your voice grows from a to an earsplitting shriek.

As you keep screaming, you start becoming combative, slapping and punching at Cass while somehow still asleep.

"Whoa, hey, hey, hey! Jus' h-hold on a darn second here!" He says as he tries to block your attacks by grabbing your hands.

"No! NO! Let me out!" You wail as tears start streaming down your cheeks.

"Darlin', it's a dream, you gotta wake up! I'm here, just open your eyes!"

Debating between forcing you to wake up and just continuing to reassure you and talk you down from the fear, he decides that the latter is probably going to be the safest for both of you.

After a several minutes long struggle, you slowly stop trying to fight Cole as your once frantic breathing begins to return to its normal pace.

Your tired eyes begin to blink open as the last bit of panic leaves your body in a few small gasps. When you fully regain consciousness, Cassidy sighs in relief as realization begins to sink into your thoughts.

"Are you okay, what the hell happened there?!" Questions Cole as he smooths his hands over your hair.

Choking out a small sob, you gently grasp his bicep to try and ground yourself as more tears begin to fall from your eyes.

"Cass, I-I'm sorry... I- I was back in Talon and the pain j-just wouldn't stop!"

His heart drops at the mention of the evil organization, knowing what kind of awful treatment you went through while kept there.

"I tr-tried to get away but I just.... couldn't! It was awful!" You whisper as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Darlin' I'm so sorry... I am so sorry..." Cole responds faintly before carefully pulling you into a hug.

The room grows still again for a moment, with only the sound of your hushed weeps filling the air.

"I don't wanna go back, please don't let them take me!" You cry into Cole's shoulder as he holds you close.

"No, no, you won't. I swear that as long I'm breathin', I will always make sure you never have to go through that ever again."

Genji:

Genji is all too familiar with nightmares. During the first couple years after his confrontation with Hanzo, he would very frequently have them. He's been through that whole song and dance a million times before.

Which is the reason he immediately knows what's happening when he wakes to the sound of your screams next to him.

He rushes to throw your shared quilt off and make sure you're okay, getting punched once or twice in the process.

After the nightmares pass and you calm down enough to speak, Genji is right there to comfort you.

"It's alright, my love, it is over now... Are you okay?" He questions as he holds one of your palms in his.

You shake your head no as you take several sharp breaths in and out.

"I was there again... in that-that godforsaken lab with fucking Moira prodding at me like cattle! It felt li-like it would never end! I can't go through that again!"

"And you don't have to. I don't know all of what happened to you, but I promise you will never have to face it on your own. I'm here to help you however I'm able to."

As the fearful adrenaline steadily leaves your veins, Genji brings your hand up to his chest so you could feel his heart beating just beneath his cybernetics.

"I love you and will sit here with you as long as you need me too."

With a sad, shaky laugh, you nod and you take your hand back in order to wrap yourself around him.

He does the same in turn as you embrace him ever so slightly tighter before he ushers for you to lay back down together so you can get some much needed sleep.

Pulling the blanket back over your bodies, he scooches in a little closer and begins to hum softly in the hopes of lulling you into a nightmare-less slumber.

Watching as your eyes begin to flutter closed again, he hears you mumble something just before you doze off.

"Thank you, Genji... I love you too."

Hanzo:

Hanzo already has trouble sleeping himself, so when your nightmares come around, he's already wide awake.

As you toss and turn underneath your blanket, he tries to calm you down by running his hand over you head, not caring if he gets hurt by your unintentionaly violent movements.

Once the night-terror ends, you start holding your face in your hands and rock back and forth as Hanzo rubs assuaging circles on your back.

"My dear, what can I do? How do I make the fear stop for now?" The archer inquires as you continue to shake in place.

"I don't know, Han... every time I close my eyes, all I can see is the lights and the wires and the needles... It won't go away no matter how hard I try. I just want them to be gone." You state, anxiously starting to press at your temples.

With a noiseless sigh escaping from his lips, Hanzo moves closer to place an arm across your shoulder and rest his forehead against your head.

"I am sorry for not being there with you. If I were able to change history, I would have gone to great lengths to rescue you."

As you begin to cry at his admission, he places a delicate kiss atop your head.

"I would never ask you to do something that dangerous for me. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you..." You sob out as you bury yourself into Hanzo's side.

Hanzo is quick to wrap his other arm around you, offering a comforting squeeze before ushering you into his lap.

"You wouldn't ever have to ask for my help. I would trade my life for yours if it meant that no more harm would come to you."

Ramattra:

It's uncommon for Omnics to dream- let alone have nightmares- so the first one you have around Ramattra? It comes as a bit of a shock to him.

When he hears you yell, he all but rockets out of his reboot cycle to scan the room for any hidden threats to your safety.

After seeing nobody there but the two of you, he glances down to see you- fast asleep but clawing at the air like a trapped animal scratching at a predator.

He then decides to do a scan of your vitals, just to make sure you aren't in any immediate medical distress. The scan reveals to him that your heartrate and breathing are through the roof.

Just as he's about to cross the room to try and wake you up, you shoot up from your fitful rest with a loud inhale as you slam your hands down onto the mattress below.

Swiftly joining your side on the bed, he cautiously turns your visage towards him as he goes to brush a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

While your eyes try to adjust to the low light of your room, you call out Ramattra's name, receiving a modulated but relaxing shush from his vocalizer.

"Calm yourself, pet, I'm right here. Now, tell me what has happened."

As you take a moment or two to collect yourself and come down from your frenzy, you gaze up to meet the faint glow of his faceplate emitting from his eyes.

"It's Talon; they... tormented me... a long time ago. Had me chained down as a doctor injected chemicals into me before he began flushing them out and started the whole process over again..."

Watching as you barely manage to hold back tears, His joints all seem to freeze in place as fury begins to creep in and take over all his systems.

"They need to suffer for their misdeeds. Who are they?..." He presses, his voice now hauntingly deeper than before .

"I don't know their names, and even if I did, I would do everything in my power to forget them."

An uneasy silence fills the space between you two, staying there for a minute before the large Omnic grunts and lifts you into his arms.

"I am sorry for what you had to go through. Just know that if any pain ever comes your way again, the offenders shall be personally dealt with." Ramattra claims as he rests his faceplate against your jaw.

Relishing in the cool feeling of his metal features against your warm skin, you nod appreciatively before he begins to lightly sway you to and fro.

Watching as you drift back to sleep, Ramattra makes a mental note to hunt down the Talon members who hurt you the next time he meets his allies. He wouldn't and will not stand for the mistreatment of the only human he has ever cared about.

[leychin]

PLAY NICE by @sugoi-and-spice may be the best thing ive ever read and im going to talk about it. I binged it all today. its so good please read it

TW: Mentions of r4pe, panic attacks, abus3, and many other traumas

This may be the best characterization of Shigaraki in fiction ive ever seen. Its realistic and it starts off like he does in season one. A brat, untamed, violent, and impulsive. When we meet him its clear he has no goal and hes throwing shots in the dark, waiting to see what hits. But its deeper than that, and i think spice shows that its shigaraki used to getting what he wants, hes never "failed" before and he doesn't intend to start now.

Its messed up, its all a fucked up situation darling lands herself in. She cant say no, she cant do anything, and in many ways shigaraki is no different. He's doing as his sensei instructs, and its what hes been raised to do and he cant do anything about it either, but at he tries to enjoy what he can.

The relationship is built off of him holding this over her head, she has a good life, good family, friends, and a boyfriend. Shes smart but shes not happy, and even early shigaraki may have been a brat but he was perceptive at least. In the short time they spend together he's learned her quirks, what makes her tick, and how she really is.

they both really do bring the worst out in eachother, but it's also the best isnt it? As the story progresses we see Shigaraki give crumbs of his past or what he remembers of it, and we see her learn to let go of the facade she puts up for everyone else around her. Its not even a healthy relationship, its not like theyre "getting better for eachother" its just a passive effect. Their relationship is still founded on shigaraki very openly r4ping the poor girl and holding her fathers job over her head.

Call it stockholm, but she gets too caught up in the routine of being with Shigaraki and its adorable to see, he can fuck her brains out and then tell her to play black ops 2 with him like its nothing. Its a welcomed click because theyre both lonely, they both need someone, and even if they arent the best people, they end up becoming better i cannot stress that enough.

i dont want to spoil too much of it for anyone who reads my little ramblings on it, but shigaraki opening up to her as time continues, learning, and not just seeing her as an npc is something you need to read and i cant possibly hope to explain. He falls so hard its so good. His thought processes, his panic attacks, his itching, its all so perfect.

Spice you need to pursue a career in writing bc you've made something raw, something real. You wrote a story about two bad people, two people who are bad but better and its gross but its also gross in a cute way. i love you and i love this mwah.

[maxisntwriting]

Stucky. Post-Civil War. 4k words. Explicit.

Bucky and Steve have only recently begun to get along after the events of Civil War and Bucky recovering himself. Cue a cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, conveniently bad communication devices,--

oh and there's only one bed. Because when hasn't the universe had it out for Bucky?

Read it on AO3

A/N: I wrote this at 11pm, excuse any errors please!

It was supposed to be a simple op. A quick in and out, hit em' where it hurts, recover the intel, then get the fuck out of dodge. Of course, because he's James Buchanan Barnes, that means it has to go disastrously wrong in less than ten minutes. Of fucking course.

Bucky can't see his own hand in front of his face, much less the tree limbs that seem to have made it their job to whack him in the face as much as possible. The wind howls around him, blasting snow and ice against his already numb face. His body aches in various places, wounds from earlier only just now beginning to heal and if it weren't for the hand gripping his flesh arm he would be seriously freaking out. Okay maybe he's still seriously freaking out.

Steve's hand tightens on his arm, a reminder than no, he's not alone. But yes, the two of them are definitely lost. And cold. And possibly dying from hypothermia soon. Bucky has a thought, briefly, that he misses Wakanda. And goats.

The hand on his arm tugs him sideways, a different direction, and since he can only just make out Steve's shield on his back in the dark blizzard, Bucky is forced to trust the other man. He's been doing that a lot recently, the whole 'trust' thing. So far it's working out, but it's still early. Could go bad, probably will.

Focus.

Another branch hits him across the cheek. If he was a lesser man he would be throwing a fit, maybe plotting to burn down the forest. But since he's a very mature 100 year old, he settles from snapping the branch with his metal hand before continuing to follow Steve.

The man in question pulls him along, and Bucky is doing a very good job of ignoring the chattering of his teeth and the cold that settles into his bones in a frighteningly familiar way. he reckons if he pretends it's not happening, then there's no possible way he'll have a panic attack right now. Because that's how it works.

Shuri would be very disappointed in his emotional maturity right now.

Bucky notices the cabin at the same moment Steve does, the other man pulling him along with increased fervor. Bucky can't help but feel grateful that he's not alone, especially when he nearly cries in relief when the snow beneath his boots turns to wood. Their feet thunk loudly across the porch as they climb the stairs, finally able to see one another. Still, Steve's hand doesn't pull away from his arm. Bucky's stomach does not flip like a schoolgirl's, thank you very much.

"Hello?" Steve calls, knocking heavily, because he's a goddamn boy scout. Bucky rolls his eyes, shouldering the blonde out of the way before throwing his shoulder against the door. It gives in easily, frame cracking loudly as the door swings open with a loud squeak of it's hinges. "Bucky..." Steve sighs, sounding exasperated but not hesitating to follow his friend inside the dark cabin.

It's not much more than a couch and a small kitchenette, a bed pushed to one corner and a door leading to the bathroom in the other corner. Still, Bucky almost collapses in the doorway as the tension leaves his shoulders and he feel like he can breath. Already, his overactive metabolism is making quick work of heating him up. Steve steps past him, eyes surveying the cabin before he nods once, seemingly satisfied.

"it will work." He decides, pulling the shield off his shoulder and setting it on the ground beside the couch. His worried eyes turn on Bucky, roaming his figure from the top of his head to his feet, and Bucky does not shiver. He doesn't, and even if he did it would be because of the cold. No other reason. "You injured?" Steve asks, tone gentle but face set in hard line.

"Ribs are already healing," Bucky replies, voice gruff as he folds under Steve's intense gaze. Damn those baby blue eyes. "You?" He asks, because the alternative is ripping Steve's clothes off. Wait. What?

"Fine. My arm got grazed but I'm pretty sure it's already healed." He turns away then, thankfully, his attention on the small fireplace and the stack of wood beside it. "I can probably get this going if you want to go see if there's any food laying around." Steve offers, kneeling down. Grateful to have something to do, Bucky immediately turns to survey the small kitchen in silence.

It's not much more than a sink, counter, and hot plate. But there is a small cupboard that upon inspection reveals a box of expired granola bars that their super-soldier immune systems can probably stomach. Bucky reasons that he's definitely had worse, and considering what he remembers of military rations in the 40s so has Steve.

"Found something." Bucky rejoins Steve in front of the fireplace, where he's actually got it lit even with the slightly damp and sad looking wood. Bucky tosses him a granola bar, watching him catch it in one of his big hands.

Focus.

"so." Steve says, sitting on the ground with his legs crossed. It reminds Bucky of a skinny version of him, the kid who used to stuff newspapers in his socks and hog his bed. Bucky swallows, dropping to the floor to join him. "That went spectacularly well." Steve says dryly, around a mouthful of stale granola.

"Could have been worse." Bucky shrugs, face impassive as he watches the other man eat. "No one died this time." He reminds his friend, tipping his head. Steve laughs, nearly choking, before he shakes his head.

"What a miracle." The two lapse into a comfortable silence, neither apparently concerned about the lack of food, water, or communication with the outside world. Bucky figured Steve would be freaking out already, the control freak he is, but the guy seems perfectly content sitting on the dusty floor of an abandoned cabin. Bucky wonders if he should be panicking.

"I think the storms supposed to last at least through the night, according to whatever Natasha said before she dropped us off." Steve continues suddenly, breaking the silence. "My communicator is shot, literally." He snorts at his own joke, Bucky can't help the small grin that twitches on his lips.

"Yeah well, at least we have somewhere to stay." The dark haired man shrugs, muscles feeling heavy. His metal arm feels even stiffer than usual, shoulder and chest aching where it connects. It's better ever since Shuri got her hands on it, since it's less hack job and more intent design, but that doesn't mean the ache is gone. Sometimes he wakes up and sees tanned skin instead of dark metal. Those are the bad days.

"Tired?" Steve asks, brows furrowing as he watches the other man. "Arm bothering you?" Bucky remembers Steve was always observant, the little asshole. Still, he looks away to hide a flush at the attention, his dark hair covering most of his face.

"Nah." Bucky shrugs, going for nonchalance. "Just tired." He stands, yawning, before reaching for the buckles on the costume Natasha had made him start wearing.

"What are you doing?" Steve asks suddenly, voice pitched a bit higher than before. Bucky glances at him, one eyebrow raised as he finishes undoing the buckles on the front of his chest.

"I was hoping to get some sleep. What are you doing?" He asks back, not bothering to hide his small smile at the look on Steve's face. The blonde looks like he's clutching his pearls as Bucky pulls the shirt from his body, dropping it on the couch.

"Right." Steve says quickly, almost too quickly. Bucky just shakes his head, unbuttoning his pants as Steve stands so abruptly the floor creaks in protest. "You can have the bed," He offers, and Bucky tries to remember if Steve used to always be such a self-sacrificing idiot.

Peeling his slightly bloody pants off his legs, he doesn't look up at Steve. "We can share the bed, it'll be fine." He shrugs, ignoring the flip of excitement in his stomach. down, boy.

A beat of silence passes before Bucky looks up, wondering where his friend went, only to find Steve standing right where he was before. He's staring at Bucky with comically wide eyes, and the other man starts to feel a little uncomfortable with the attention. "Man, I'm not gonna kill you in your sleep. Do you want me to take the arm off or something?" He asks, feeling a little disapointed that Steve doesn't trust him yet.

"What?" The blonde asks, looking genuinely confused, before his eyes widen. "No, Buck, I'm not scared of you." He insists, back to the intense look on his face. Bucky suddenly misses his clean shaven look, at least that version of Steve didn't look like he could see straight into his soul. No, Bucky's convinced that the beard has psychological abilities that Steve isn't disclosing. That's the only explanation for it's effect on the former winter soldier.

I used to kill people. He thinks, when he flushes at Steve's admission. with my hands.

Nodding, Bucky peels his socks off, leaving himself in a pair of boxers. The cabin has warmed pleasantly, the small space well effected by the fireplace, so the brunette doesn't fill the chill. the two men stand there for a beat of silence, eyes flitting around the room and then back to eachother. "Are you sleeping in the uniform?" Bucky asks, his tone teasing as he looks over Steve.

"No." The man grumbles, but makes no move to undress. Finally, Bucky turns towards the bed.

"Are you seriously shy?" He asks, moving towards the suddenly tiny looking bed in the corner of the room. "I'm pretty sure we saw each other naked a hundred times during the war, Stevie." The nickname slips out before he can bite it back, and Bucky's shocked by how naturally it falls from his lips. Huh.

"Yeah well," Steve doesn't finish his comment, and Bucky can hear the rustling of clothes as he takes the uniform off. Not waiting, he slides beneath the dusty comforter, putting his back to the wall and attempting to leave as much room for Steve as he can. The other guy's gotten bigger since the went on the run, and Bucky's starting to wonder what Shuri and T'Challa are feeding him. Bucky, shockingly, has slimmed down a lot. No longer using his body as a weapon to protect himself.

He watches Steve, now dressed as minimally as him, check the lock on the door futiley, before the blonde turns his attention on the bed. Bucky can't read the range of emotions that seems to pass over his face all at once. He wonders if at one point he could read Steve better than himself, but the memory of that skill is long gone.

The other man approaches the bed, muttering an apology as he pulls back the covers and slides in beside Bucky. It's a tight fit, especially for two grown men, and Bucky's arm presses against Steve's even as he lays on his side.

"Sorry," Steve whispers in the quiet, and Bucky has to swallow. There's a strange lump in his throat, his heart pounding oddly fast from their proximity. It shouldn't matter, but it does. Bucky thinks maybe it always has, even before he remembered Steve completely.

"S'ok." Bucky whispers back, grateful for the darkness even when the two of them can see perfectly fine. He lets his hair cover his face. Steve props an arm behind his head, bicep flexing, staring up at the ceiling like it's the most interesting thing in the world. Bucky's too bust staring at Steve like he's the most interesting thing in the world to notice Steve notice him.

"What?" He whispers, eyes finding Bucky's. The brunette has a sudden thought that sharing a bed was a very very bad idea. "Something on my face?" Steve teases, relaxing.

"No." Bucky shakes his head, and his voice sounds almost breathless. He ignores the heat pressing into his side, the urge to scoot closer to his friend. No. Not going there.

"You look constipated." Steve points out, eyes narrowing on his face.

"Shut up, punk." The other man replies easily, looking away to hide the flush on his face. Steve snickers into the darkness of the room, making Bucky roll his eyes with a huff. Then, Steve can feel Bucky's eyes on his face, making him return the look with a raised eyebrow. "Now you look constipated," he says, feeling the way the air is charged around them, as if waiting. Bucky swallows as Steve's dark eyes roam his face. Then, they seem to narrow, and a sigh escapes his lips.

"Oh fuck it," Steve curses, surging forward to press his lips against Bucky's. The other man responds instantly, meeting him with just as much fervor as Steve seems to explore his mouth. Without breaking contact, the blonde rolls Bucky to his back, following him to loom over him with his knees on either side of the brunettes hips.

"Bucky," Steve whispers, voice dangerously low as he cups the side of the other man's face, thumb caressing his cheekbone. Bucky is helpless but to press against the touch, desperate for the contact in a way he hadn't been cognizant of before now. "Bucky tell me to stop." Steve begs, his other hand flexing on Bucky's hip.

"What If I don't want to?" The other man replies, almost a challenge, his eyes meeting Steve's dark gaze. There's an intensity there that terrifies Bucky, yet makes him want things he hasn't thought about in a long time. A sigh catches in his throat when the pad of Steve's thumb strokes over his lower lip, pulling it a bit.

"You want this?" He asks, voice almost a growl as he leans down. Bucky fights the urge to buck up against his heat, tongue darting out to lick his lips. The action makes Steve's eyes snap to his mouth, gaze darkening in desire.

"Yes." Bucky whispers, because it feels appropriate. And because he isn't capable of having an intelligent conversation with Steve when his cock feels so hard it might actually fall off if he doesn't get some relief soon. The word seems to be enough for Mr. Consent, who surges forward to press their lips together in a passionate kiss.

There's no fireworks, no mind-blowing revelation, just a feeling of familiarity, comfort, like Bucky was supposed to be doing this the whole time and his body's glad he's finally caught on. Steve's pace is almost frenzied, hand gripping Bucky's jaw and tilting his face how he wants to. The other man relaxing into the direction, lips parting softly when Steve's tongue swipes across them. Then Steve's licking into his mouth and it's perfect, and Bucky briefly wonders who the hell taught Steve Rogers to kiss like this but then said man is kissing Bucky too breathless to think much of anything.

When Steve finally pulls back, it's only because his chest is heaving as he tries to catch his breath, Bucky is in a similar state as he stares up at the man above him with a look similar to wonder. Steve's eyes trail over his face, looking pained for a moment. "Fuck, Buck, your eyes." He groans, hand tightening on the other man's jaw like it physically pain him.

"Yeah?" He asks, smirking smugly like the little shit he used to be. Steve shakes his head, seemingly unperturbed by the other man's smugness, instead using the moment to gently grasp the back of Bucky's knee and spread his legs so he can settle between them. The move punches the air out of Bucky's chest, desire rolling over him like a wave and his blood rushing south so fast he gets light headed. "Steve," Is all the brunette is capable of as Steve's thumb strokes the back of his thigh, that little contact already driving him crazy.

With Steve settled between his thighs, Bucky can feel the other man's hardness pressing against his. He experimentally moves his hips, groaning when their cocks rub together through their boxers. Steves eyes widen at the contact, hand darting up to grip his hip to keep him still. "You keep doing that and this'll be over too quick, Buck."

"We got plenty a' time for romance later." The other man replies, trying to move again and feeling a slight thrill when Steve easily holds him still. "Don't make me wait on you, boy scout." He teases easily, not the least bit surprised when Steve leans down to capture his lips. He parts them, chin tilting the way Steve just showed him he likes. He relaxes into the kiss, even when his cock throbs between them.

Steve pulls back, peppering kisses over Bucky's face in a way that makes his stomach clench. He tips his chin back for Steve when his lips ghost over the other man's jaw, then down the front of his throat. "Stevie." Bucky sighs, an exhale more than a word, but Steve hears all the same. His hips roll, the friction making Bucky arch his back, pressing up into Steve's warmth.

Steve's hands slide up to his waist, gripping and pulling him up closer. Their chests press flush together at the same time Steve bites down on the skin just on the side of his neck. Bucky can't bite back the soft cry of pleasure, cock jumping at the sting of pain. Steve's tongue laves over the spot, sating the burn, before pulling back to watch Bucky's face as he rolls his hips again.

"If you don't get naked right now I'm going to lose it." Bucky bites out, lamenting the loss of Steve's hands when he pulls away.

"Whatever you say, buck." Steve says, almost sounding like he's laughing as he rolls slightly off the man to shuck his underwear. Bucky does the same, actions hurried and fumbling as he shoves his boxers down his legs before kicking them off. glancing up, he finds Steve watching him with a humored expression.

"Just c'mere." Bucky roll his eyes, reaching for the other man. Steve Acquiesces, rolling back into Bucky's arms like he belongs there. The brunette groans low in his throat when their bare cocks rub against one another, so hard it physically hurts. Steve's hand tips his chin up, and Bucky closes his eyes as Steve presses their lips together again.

His other hand reaches down between them, fingers closing around Bucky's cock smoothly, stroking once and nearly making his brain malfunction. He moans into their kiss, hips jerking, only held still when Steve's hand on his jaw drops to his hip to hold him still. "Hangon, Buck, lemme." Steve mumbles against his mouth, his hand jerking in a jilted rhythm.

"Yeah, okay," Bucky agrees breathlessly, trying to hold still as the blonde strokes him in a hand that suddenly seems so much bigger than Bucky's. Actually the man himself just seems to tower over Bucky's prone form, it sends a jolt of desire through him. Bucky can't help but let out a whine, back arching, as his stomach clenches. Steve's got a look of focus on his face that shouldn't be hot, but is. "Close," Bucky warns him, voice a whisper.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, and his voice hoarse with desire is nearly enough to send Bucky over the edge. Instead, the burnette whines when Steve releases him, only to exhale shakily when the other man wraps his hand around both of their erections at once.

"fuck," Bucky drags out the word as Steve strokes them together, their precum mixing to allow their cocks to slide easily against one another. Steve doesn't stop him when he rolls his hips, instead meeting him with a harried thrust of his own. "Steve," Bucky gasps, throwing his head back and shutting his eyes. Steve ducks down, pressing a kiss to the other man's exposed neck, almost sweetly. It's opposed by the dirty way Steve thrusts against him, twisting his wrist expertly.

"So pretty like this, Buck." Steve says, almost reverent, and Bucky blinks his eyes open to gaze at Steve with a shaky exhale. Steve's eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at Bucky, almost as if he's committing every part of this to memory. Bucky cries out when Steve's thumb swipes over his tip, pressing to his slit for a moment before returning to stroking their shafts together.

"Stevie," Bucky whines, hips trying to meet every one of Steve's thrusts against him.

"Hangon," the man whispers, and no matter what he says it sounds dirty, hot, like a command that washes over Bucky and makes him leak. Before he can respond, Steve's grabbing Bucky's wrist, guiding his hand down between them. "Wrap your hand around us, Buck." He commands, despite the soft tone. Nodding fervently, Bucky doesn't hesitate to do so. Steve grins down at him dirtily, before planting his hands on the bed on either side of Bucky's chest.

His hips snap forward, fucking into Bucky's hand and rubbing against his cock at the same time. A groan seems to rip from both of their throats, the slick slide of their cocks with every one of Steve's thrusts almost too much. Bucky bites his lip, looking up at Steve through hooded eyes as his stomach clenches in warning. "I'm so close, Stevie." Bucky whispers, voice hoarse as Steve's movements seem to speed up. It should be embarrassing, that this is enough to get him off, but he doesn't care. Steve's weight pressing down on him, his cock rubbing against Bucky's could be enough for the rest of his life.

"Yeah, Buck," Steve's breathing is labored as he snaps his hips forward, a growl in his tone that makes Bucky shiver. "fuck, wanna see it. Show me." He leans down, his mouth claiming Bucky's in a kiss he seems to pour all of his passion into. Steve's hand grips Bucky's hip, hard enough to bruise, and that's all it takes to send Bucky over the edge. Their lips part when the brunette throws his head back when he cums, eyes clenching and mouth opening in a gasp as he paints both of their chests with it. Steve buries his face into Bucky's neck, biting him there again.

His movements increase in speed, each thrust jostling the bed and making it creak. Bucky bites back a whimper when he reopens his eyes, pleasure turning to overstimulation as Steve chases his orgasm. Still, Bucky tightens his grip and holds still, enjoying Steve's mouth against his neck. It only takes a few more moments for him to lose it, biting down hard on the skin of Bucky's neck and pressing all his body weight down onto the brunette as he comes. Bucky can feel it on his skin, the thought making his stomach clench with desire already.

Steve stays there a long while, pressed close, mouth against Bucky's neck. The other man almost falls asleep, more comfortable than he's been in a long while. He jolts awake when Steve sits up, pulling their lower halves away from one another. He gazes down at Bucky, before reaching up and gently caressing his jaw.

Bucky isn't sure what to say, so he settles for leaning into the touch and staying silent. Steve turns slightly, reaching for something, and when he turns back to Bucky he's holding an article of clothing.

Steve cleans both of them up messily, but it's better than dried cum in the morning. Then, he presses a soft kiss to Bucky's jaw before rolling over and settling against the bed. Bucky has a moment to wonder if Steve will pretend like nothing happened, but then the blonde closes his arms around the other man and pulls him in close.

"Tomorrow," He whispers as Bucky's eyes droop closed. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

[goodgirlofglory]

In the balance - Chapter 4: Put

Chapter 3 - Chapter 5

/Masterpost/

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 3,1k

Warnings: non-con, dub-con, depression, angst, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, smut, non-con smut, vaginal sex, lack of hygiene, starvation due to depressive hungerstrike.

Summary: As it dawns on you how trapped you are, you take poorly to the captivity.

Note: Allright you guys, this is officially a series. It will be 10 chapters AT LEAST!! Seeing I really got myself into it with the set-up of the first three parts, I have no idead how often I will update this. Last time I wrote a series, I had finished virtually every part before I even posted the prologue, so this is also the first time I’m writing and posting parts simultaneously. A masterlist will be made momentraily and all parts updated with it!! I’m excited!!!

Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you to not interact if the contents of the warnings trigger you. Minors DNI! 

My work is not to be distributed outside this blog. 

Likes, replies and reblogs are amaaaazing💞💞

You slept as if you were dead that first night, the shock to your system knocking you out cold as soon as Steve left the room. 

You woke up alert, instantly remembering everything about where you were and how you got there. In the early morning sun, the room shone in a warm light, every piece of furniture and fabric looking soft, inviting - like something out of a magazine. 

A surge of panic had you moving up and out of bed. You found your discarded clothes on the floor and hastily put them on, noticing you had nothing else on you - neither your phone, wallet or keys were in sight. 

Didn't matter, you just needed to get out. This wasn't happening.

You made your way into the hallway and followed it down past several sets of double doors, side tables with beautiful flower decorations and little else. Your feet made no sound on the plush, mauve carpet. In fact, the house was completely void of sound. The grand staircase looked even more impressive in daylight. The ceiling had stained glass that painted the white walls in a flourish of coloured light, and the marble of the staircase felt cool under your bare feet. It was all obscenely grand, like a home belonging to someone who didn’t know who they were and had too much wealth to know what to do with. For all his mystery, you would never have imagined Steve living in a place like this. It kept dawning on you how frightfully little you knew him. 

Steve had taken your shoes, maybe even as early as when he’d strapped you into the jet - or maybe you lost them running in the woods? You didn’t even remember, your mind growing hazy with the urge to get outside - to just get away.

The double-door entrance was locked when you went to slowly pry it open, and you noticed the second lock needed a key - a key that was nowhere in sight. Okay, next door, a window, anything. You moved silently through the entrance hall and into the living room, remembering how you’d come in through a back porch door the night before. You found it easily enough retracing your steps, but this was also locked with a lock that needed a key from the inside. You contemplated throwing something to break one of the huge, floor length windows in the living room, but that could make too much sound. You didn’t know if Steve was in the house or not. Outside, you saw the garden, the landing patch with the jet still on it, and around, a lawn large enough it could be more aptly described as a field, and behind it, thick forest. No buildings, no city, nothing. You had no idea where this mansion was or what surrounded it. But anything would be better than staying here. 

You took a new path out of the living room, peering around corners into an office, a large bathroom, a huge library with stuffed bookshelves in dark wood, big, old chairs that looked like they would swallow you whole and lastly, a kitchen. And across from the large kitchen island there was another set of porch doors - wide open, the light drapes blowing softly in the breeze coming from outside. Your feet carried you towards it on instinct, stepping into the spacious kitchen. 

“Good morning,” came Steve’s familiar voice, jolting you. Glancing to your left, you saw him, casually reclined in a chair by the dining table to the right. Great, he was waiting for you, the open doors bait. 

You didn’t even halt as you marched for the door, instantly relieved as you cleared it, feeling the direct heat of the sun on your face as your bare feet touched the small porch outside, and then - deliciosuly soft and cool grass. Ahead was another mile of neatly mowed lawn and the treeline in the distance. 

Steve’s booming steps sounded on the porch behind you. 

“Sweetie, come back. There’s nothing but forest that way, and a very high fence you can’t climb” Steve called behind you, somewhere between amusement and exasperation. 

Your heart pounded painfully in your chest. Was it true? Were you so remote? Recalling the night before, you figured any attempt to outrun him would be pointless. And a fence, enclosure all the way around, no doubt with a locked gate, if there even was a road leading in and out of this place. For all you knew, the only way in was via fucking jet plane. The pit in your chest threatened to swallow you whole, and you gulped in a fortifying breath. You wouldn’t give up yet. 

Turning on your heel, you marched back up to Steve, shoeless feet not exactly intimidating in the soft grass. Reaching him, you craned your neck to stare him down. You reached your hand out. 

“My car keys,” you stated, your voice surprisingly even. 

Maybe if you just showed Steve that you were not going to play along on this, he would return to his senses and let you go home. It wasn't too late to just go back to the way things were. Surely you would have a, if marginal, say in this. 

Steve cocked his head at you before turning on his heel and walking back to the house. 

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” he said, not even looking back as he slipped into the kitchen. 

You briefly considered continuing across the lawn and into the trees, but ended up following Steve back inside the house. He’d returned to his previous seat, sipping a coffee cup. You stepped up to him, careful to keep a foot of distance between you. It was never a good idea to let Steve get too close. 

“I need my car keys. I need to go to work,” you said simply. In any sane world it should be more than enough. But your stomach was turning, glooming doubt trickling along every nerve in your body. 

“That won’t be necessary. I’ve already turned in your resignation, and your car is on its way to a landfill,” Steve said, looking up at you with a calm demeanor, no doubt thinking he was reassuring. 

The world threatened to spin as you processed that. 

What?

“You can…you can’t do that!,” you protested. “You have no right to do that! That's my income, my livelihood!,” you said, voice coming out trembling, your throat feeling tighter. 

“You don't need it anymore. Besides, a woman in your condition shouldn’t slave away -”

“B-but, how am I going to pay for my apartment?” you interrupted, mind scrambling to get a grip on your thoughts. Your heart was pounding painfully again.

Steve reached out a hand to grasp yours, too hot as it enveloped your hand completely. 

“Sweetie, I thought we agreed on this last night. You’ll live here now. I’ve already terminated your lease. I can’t believe how much your landlord charged for that cupboard. It was practically a scam,” Steve said, and his tone was so reprimanding, it made you feel chastined, humiliated, like a child. 

You liked your apartment, your landlord was a nice, old man - the closest thing you’d had to a friend. Sure it was a bit costly, but it was yours. Your safe place, your sanctuary…

"No, p-please," you whimpered, a sob lodged in your throat, your mind quickly collapsing on itself, anguish spreading like a puddle in your chest. "Please, don't do this," you besieged.

His hand squeezed yours as it felt like you were sinking into yourself. Bile rose high in your throat.

“It's already done," Steve answered calmly, his words like boulders pulling you down into dark gloom. "I told you, honey, not to worry about a thing. You won’t ever need to go back to that sad, dreary life you had. I’ve taken care of everything. Now, breakfast,” he ended triumphantly. 

You wrenched your hand out of his. Body hunching forward, you hurled. 

§

You hadn’t showered in days, hair greasy, smelling faintly of sweat and grime. You hadn’t eaten either. Anything you dained to eat didn’t stay down either way. The god awful nausea had settled deep in your gut, making every movement slow and strained. Steve hadn’t gone so far as to force feed you. Yet, that was. 

You'd gone completely off the rails after that first fit of vomiting. The details were fuzzy, but you'd started by wrenching Steve’s cup out of his hands before hurling it to crack into a million pieces against the wall. Then you'd upended the table before Steve got you locked in his arms. He had dragged you back to your room while you screamed your voice hoarse, your feet kicking out against anything in your path, a brief moment of sweet, petty vindication surging as you knocked a vase over in the entrance hall and he groaned in responding frustration, filling the room with a cracking sound as it split open on the marble. You’d never heard sounds like that before, let alone from your own body. 

Steve carried you up, not even breaking a sweat against your struggle, laying you on the bed and pinning you there until you ceased your thrashing, your howls shrinking to groans. 

"I know this is challenging, darling. You'll stay here till you reach your senses again, til you become my sweet, good girl again," he said, so easily dismissing you fighting for your life.

As soon as he locked the doors behind him, you bolted from the bed and started throwing things, destroying everything you saw, knocking over furniture, tearing clothes, breaking vases, animalistic sounds ripping out of your mouth. You would be embarrassed if desperate, white hot, crawling panic wasn’t exploding through every atom of your body, seeking vengeance and rescue all at once. You hated him, hated, hated, hated him.

You only stopped when the vertigo hit you, sparks of light dancing before your eyes and your feet giving out under you.

Steve wasn’t pleased by your behavior, but for once he was so uncharacteristically non-invasive in the days that followed. He moved you to another room when you blacked out from distress, and by that point you didn’t have enough energy to throw things. It doesn’t matter anyway, the hopelessness in your chest whispered to you. The biggest fight you could muster was only a spot of inconvenience and a renovation cost for Steve. 

The mansion closed like a tomb around you.

He prepared meals for you, but didn’t go further than implore you to eat them. There were soft towels and deliciously smelling shower products from the most high end lines in the bathroom, but he didn’t force you into the shower. He didn’t touch you at all. And you ended up thinking of your lack of hygiene as a form of armor. A form of buffer that held his touch away, let you simmer in your rage - and filth - alone. 

You slept, vomited, went to the bathroom, slept, cried, ate a little, vomited, slept - all the while simmering with rage and self-pity.

Steve went away to work on your sixteenth day of no shower and limited food intake. He lingered by the bed, brows drawn down in concern as he took in your lethargic form nestled in the messy bed sheets of your room. You still wore the clothes you’d come in, having refused all of the soft, silken and plush clothes that hung in the closet, creamy and light pastel color, all in your exact size. It repulsed you, how he had so clearly pictured you barefoot and soft, mellow and compliant as you leisured around the house without any protest. 

“I’ll be back in a few days. Please eat and drink something, take care of yourself. If not for you, then for the baby” he implored silently, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of your duvé. You wanted to swat his hand away. 

The baby. You had completely forgotten about that. Didn’t matter though, maybe you’d lose it if you starved for long enough, and then Steve would cast you out. No, he’d promised to keep you forever in that case. Maybe you would die before that time. 

You were tired, so tired, and if you didn’t move a muscle, the nausea was manageable. You’d already hurled several times that morning, heaving until spots appeared before your eyes, nothing but bitter stomach acid coming up and into the bucket by the bed. 

He went away, and you stayed in bed until darkness settled outside the window. Groggily, you got up to use the toilet, your piss a dark brown as you took in the poor state of your dehydrated and famished body. Wilting so fast in your captivity. 

But with Steve gone, you could breathe. And you slowly made your way down to the kitchen, finding a meal of cold pot roast with vegetables in the fridge, managing to get about three bites down before your stomach threatened to knock you out. You drank a glass of cold water, soothing as you felt it go down. Outside, the whole world was in darkness. Shouldn’t you be finding a way to escape? 

Maybe, but right now all you could think about was returning to bed, to obliterating, dreamless unconsciousness. Returning to your room, you glanced inside the luxurious bathroom en suite. It had a large tub, star spots in the dark blue ceiling, a tropical shower head in the spacious shower stall and shelf upon shelf of luscious oils and lotions, hair products and soaps that smelled like something out of a five star spa. 

You pressed your nose into a simple bar of lavender soap, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasant and clean scent soothed you. You looked at the shower stall for a while, contemplating. If you dressed in the same clothes and got into the same sheets, maybe Steve wouldn’t notice you’d used the facilities you swore you’d forever refuse. 

Maybe Steve would die while on the job…

You undressed slowly, nearly falling as you struggled to take your hoodie off, the hassle making you dizzy. 

How had you ended up here? What had you been thinking, all those months with his visits? That it would forever stay like that? Why hadn’t you run away sooner, disappeared. How stupid you’d been, just staying put like sitting duck, just waiting for him to do this. To steal you away to be kept like livestock, locked away, your previous life, your home, job, things - everything you’d worked so hard to obtain - taken away and obliterated, like dust on a shelf. Bitter tears stung your cheeks for what felt like the millionth time. 

You’d worked so hard for that job, even harder for the apartment. You’d slaved away all your life, with no connections, no inheritance from your dead relatives, practically no skills or talents. Working your way up to full time at the yarn store was the achievement of your life, the stepping stone to an honest, hard working life. And now it was just gone, thrown away by Steve like trash. 

The shower was heaven. The warm water battered your aching muscles, loosening your stiffened joints. Your plan of rewearing your old clothes was swiftly disregarded as the new scent of lavender permeated your floating, sated state. You trudged out of the bathroom half asleep before dumping into the messy bed, already slipping into unconsciousness. 

§

You awoke to the sensation of warmth along your back. You lay on your side, your cover thrown off somewhere, the night air chilly on your naked skin. Something tickled your neck, pulling your hair away. You murmured, your lips not quite moving yet as you trudged the edge of sleep. Your neck tingled again, and then something distinctly hard against your asscheek tore you from your slumbering state. 

You jolted forward before being promptly tugged back by a large arm around your middle. A frustrated whimper escaped you as you wiggled against your restraints. 

Steve hushed you quietly, his breath tickling your ear, his lips touching just under it. He inhaled deeply before letting out a pleased sigh ending on a soft groan. 

“You smell so good tonight, I hardly believed my luck finding you like this, naked and clean and ready,” he murmured into your skin, making goosebumps rise along your arms and back.  

“You were supposed to be gone,” you said through gritted teeth, hands fisting in the sheets in rage. 

He didn’t answer, only continued to kiss your neck, slowly unwinding his arm from around your middle, gauging your reaction all the while. You didn’t move until you felt him prod along your asscrack with his cock, leaking tip smearing your skin. That’s when you tried to bolt again, only to end up rolled onto your stomach, Steve’s hand pressing you down into the mattress as he straddled the back of your thighs. 

“I’ve been patient, tried to wait. But you’re just too much for me, honey,” he said as he used his hand to prod his cock between your cheeks again, searching for your entrance. “Do you feel what you do to me? The hold you have over me?” he asked, finding your hole. 

Hold? You would have laughed if tears weren’t strangling you, your whimpers muffled by the sheets underneath you. What a pathetically ironic thing to say… 

He pulled back and spat crudely at your hole before unceremoniously pushing inside, making your flesh yield to him. You cried out at the sudden pain before your breath hitched in your throat. Your stomach recoiled. 

Steve groaned above you, his hand moving from his cock to hold your cheeks open as he started to rock back and forth in a filthy grind inside you. 

“God, I’ve missed you, you feel so fucking good,” he grunted out, and your muscles slowly seized up, stiffening against your will. You slapped a hand back on his thigh as the pain persisted with his grinding thrusts. 

“H-hurts,” you stuttered out between small gulps of air. 

“It’s okay, sweetie, it’ll feel good in a moment. Be good for me now,” he said, not an ounce of sympathy in his tone, too far gone in his own pleasure. 

On your next exhale, it felt like you left your own body. Just went away, floated up to the ceiling, looking onto the scene like a passive bystander. You grew limp, your muscles loosening to a puddle of limbs. You weren’t there, this wasn’t real. None of it was. Steve wasn’t there, doing this, and if he was, it wasn’t you he did it to. 

Steve bent down to lave at your neck, his mouth moving up to yours. You stayed limp underneath him, rhythmically rocked on the bed by Steve’s steady thrusts. He tried to kiss your mouth, but you stayed unmoving, and you could feel him grow frustrated at your lack of response. 

Good, he might as well be fucking a corpse, you thought as he pried his tongue into your mouth, only managing to lick over your teeth slightly. 

You don’t know how much time passed, but when Steve’s hips stuttered and he moaned his release quietly, you exhaled in relief, just longing to go back to sleep. But before you could drift off, you curled over the edge of the bed and gagged, nothing but choked air coming up.

This was what your life had amounted to. This pitiful existence at the hands of this man. 

§

Note: Our girl’s not doing so great, unfortunately. I’m dying to know what you think of this developement!!

[imjusttpeachy]

bumpy roads & broken promises. (c.h.)

EDIT: Lmaoooo I did not expect this to actually get notes, thanks guys! I already made it onto someone’s fic recs-- I feel special. Actually might end up writing more if this gets more attention. :^)

I wrote this as a vent/comfort fic for myself but figured others might like it. Corpse has been my new safety youtuber ever since the old nosleep reader--deep voice/no face gamer went to shit so... yeah. 

Heavily inspired by @mmonamona ‘s fic “Petty Fights and Lonely Nights” just more angst. 

playlist

feng suave - sink into the floor

current joys - a different age

feng suave - venus flytrap

rei ami - do it right

summary: Corpse gets frustrated with work and snaps at the reader when she tries to ask what’s wrong, triggering a bad memory from a past relationship. 

word count: 2, 932

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns used, coarse language, shouting, panic attacks, reference to past relationship trauma (no retelling, nothing detailed)

(angst, hurt/comfort, crying! lots of it)

>>>

“God would you just fuck off already?!”

Frozen. Your body tensed up as the deep growl echoed through the cramped dark room.

You had been staying at your boyfriend’s apartment for about a week while you were on break from college. Flying out from the UK to California so you could spend as much time as you could with him before ultimately having to return to 5am facetimes while drowning in papers and essays.

Even before you’d booked the tickets, Corpse was already apologizing for everything under the sun. The size of his apartment and its cleanliness, the fact that he couldn’t do much more than order take out for you, his irregular sleeping patterns.. the list could go on and on. And while you assured him every time that you didn’t care, that you were coming to see him— not his apartment, not home cooked meals, and definitely not to scrutinize him for things he couldn’t control due to his mental health. But he wouldn’t buy it.

Not one bit.

He’d offer you a weary half-smile, pulling you into his chest or ruffling your hair before placing a soft kiss on your temple and changing the subject. You didn’t press any further knowing how often he was at war with his own mind and couldn’t help but think the worse of every situation.

As the days carried on, you’d spent most of your time tangled up in each other. Whether it be a movie, or playing some co-op games, or even just laying in his bed with him, you could barely stand to spend any time apart. But, of course, you were adults with responsibilities that would tear you from one another eventually. While you did miss his presence every second he wasn’t around, you couldn’t help but try to make his life even better for when he got back and for when you’d eventually have to leave him once again. Now, a week into your stay, his apartment was a good amount tidier than how it’d been when you arrived. The cupboards and fridge were stocked with groceries that would hopefully last for some time after you left, on top of the home made meals you’d make together or for him everyday. New picture frames were hung up on the wall of the two of you that you’d gifted to him when you arrived; it actually started to feel like home. Well, as much as it could without those familiar strong arms wrapped around you every second of the day.

Unfortunately, this evening was one of those times. Corpse had already been locked up in his office for a few hours now, the sounds of button mashing and frustrated exclamations making its way through the thin walls every so often bringing an amused smile to your face. He’d woken up a bit anxious already knowing he’d have to both leave you alone and put up a brave front for the stream that was planned that evening. You didn’t push him or try to talk about it, knowing that it would just make it worse; so you two had spent the day as it normally would (though he always looked and felt on edge) until he was forced to retreat back into that dreaded workspace.

You occupied yourself on your phone and laptop for a while, checking up on friends, reviewing anything you’d need for the upcoming semester, just scrolling through your socials— y’know, the works. But by the time you’d gotten bored with your scrolling, you’d notice it was a perfect time to start dinner that you’d hopefully be able to eat together with Corpse. You’d gotten to work right away, doing your best to be as quiet as you could to not disturb his work as the different aromas began to spread through the small kitchen in his apartment. Finishing up the dishes after the meal was all cooked, you dished up two servings and set them on the coffee table in front of the couch before you went to retrieve your other half.

Turning the knob of his office door slowly, you peered into the dark room; only the silhouette of the floppy mop of hair you adored so much was able to be seen in the dim light of his computer monitors. Taking a hard look at his right-most monitor you notice an editing software pulled up instead of the usual live chat he had on while streaming, so without any worry of interrupting you opened the door and stepped into the room. It was a cozy room for sure, and it always seemed to smell just like him— which of course is a given but with how much time he spent in this room, it was even more so present. Walking up slowly to his right side so you wouldn’t startle him with just your voice you watched his gaze flick to your form before steadying itself back in the monitor. Furrowing your brows at his strange behaviour but not letting it get to you, you opened your mouth to speak.

“I made dinner!” You smiled down at him, taking a few steps back toward the door so he would be able to get out of his gaming chair without you in his space. However, the hunched form of your focused boyfriend didn’t move an inch. Your heart sunk a little at his attitude but decided to just try again.

“Corpse, baby, dinners ready.”

“I’m not hungry.” The short statement left his mouth in a low grumble, if you hadn’t spent all this time with him studying his voice and begging him to speak more to you, you probably wouldn’t have been able make it out at all. You huffed out a sigh, this was new for him, you really hadn’t seen him as anything other than the cuddly baby you’d grown to know and love. But, you thought to yourself, love would come with days like this and it was bound to happen eventually. Trying your best to not get frustrated or angry with his snappy attitude, you kept your voice light and cheery as you tried again to coax him out to eat.

“Corpse you’ve barely eaten today I-“

“I said I’m not hungry.” Startling at the angry tone you’d never heard from him before, you could feel yourself start to get choked up. Pulling your hands up to hug your arms, trying to sooth yourself, you could feel yourself starting to slowly freeze up. Goosebumps ran over your skin, a chill snaking  it’s way up your spine as you gulped, trying your best to muster up the bravery to speak again. You didn’t know what had gotten into him, he knew how the tone affected you— he was usually even the one to comfort you after an episode triggering something like this. As your mouth began to run dry, you took a deep breath deciding that he would definitely come to his senses in the next moments, you opened your mouth to speak again.

“Is everything alri-“

“I’m FINE! I’m not a FUCKING CHILD I don’t need you constantly checking up on me! God would you just fuck off already!”

You didn’t even notice the tears dripping off your cheeks until they splashed against the bare skin of your hand. Slipping into the defense mode you knew so well, your body switched onto autopilot as you began to backpedal out of the room, almost tripping a few times as you sputtered out a choked “okay, I’m sorry,” before closing his door once again and stumbling messily down the hallway to his room. Your mind was moving a thousand miles a minute yet was completely blank at the same time, and before you knew it you were tucked away inside the dark closet in his room.

This was the routine, this is where you’d be safe.

Trying to slow your erratic breathing you hugged your knees even closer to your chest, praying that in some way it would ease your shaking body. But inevitably, you felt the sobs that you’d kept trapped in your throat since you’d left break through. Your chest heaved with the breaths you took to keep your sobs as silent as possible. You thought you had trained yourself well enough for this, you’d done this a million times before— but in the back of your mind you knew that this time it was different. Shrinking into the corner of the closet, the only thing on your mind was all the broken promises he’d sworn to keep.

>>>

Corpse sighed, his body weighing him down in his chair heavily, head aching with all the work he’d been doing that evening. Pulling his attention back, he stretched his arms as his sore eyes glanced over at the clock in the corner of his screen. 11:34pm. Fuck. That much time had passed already? Raking a hand through his hair he yawned sleepily, he knew he should probably spend more time working before calling it a night but all he wanted to do was curl up in bed with you-

Shit.

Finally snapping out of the heavy trance he’d set himself in every time he sat down to edit, he thought back to the last time he had seen you— calling him for dinner where he snapped at you to leave him alone… almost 3 hours ago. The memories of the past moment flooded into his head and seconds later he was scrambling out of his chair and out into the hallway. It was dead silent, Corpse felt like his heart was practically breaking his ribs with how hard it was pounding in his chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gripping at the right side of his shirt he rushed into the living room, rubbing frantically at his eyes as they darted around the room quickly looking for any sign of you.

“(Y/N), baby?” He rasped out, voice caught in his throat, walking through the living room and spotting the now cold meals she’d prepared waiting uneaten on the coffee table. His heart sunk as he hurried to the kitchen only to see the rest of the meal out on the counter, not doing anything to ease his mind. He called your name again and again; rushing back into the living room his eyes darted to the front door, a tiny bit of relief pricking his system as he saw the door was still locked and latched, as well as seeing your shoes and jacket by the door. Rushing back into the hallway he peeked into the bathroom, flicking on the light switch and with no sign of you, continued down the hallway to his room.

“(Y/N), please baby.” Flicking on the light his eyes scanned the room not catching a single sight of you-- when he heard it. Slowing his breathing down as much as he could in his panicked state he focused in his hearing on the small heaves of air coming from the closet. Stomach dropping, Corpse collapsed onto his knees, legs giving way from underneath him when he realized where you were and what was happening. Crawling his way toward the closet door he stopped right outside of it, he heard your breath hitch and knew you were holding it out of practiced instinct which made him want to vomit. But it wasn’t about him right now, so with a deep breath he finally managed to whisper out.

>>>

“Princess, I’m gonna open the door okay?”

Finally releasing the breath you had been holding, your lungs heaved for air as light flooded into the dark closet. Peeking an eye out from where it was buried in your knees, you blearily made out your boyfriend’s blurry figure kneeling outside the closet. With your body feeling like it was completely out of your control, sobs once again began to rack your huddled form as you shrunk away from him as far as you could into the corner of the closet.

“I’m gonna come in and sit with you okay, I won’t touch you unless you say I can alright?” You could hear some shuffling before hearing the door creak shut again engulfing the both of you in almost complete darkness, save for the few streams of yellow light coming from the cracks of the door. Corpse stared forward in complete silence, long legs bent uncomfortably and body hunched over in the cramped space of the closet trying to give you as much space as possible but knowing that the first step was sitting with you. The man beside you sighed softly, feeling his heart splinter with every heaving sob that raked over you; he could feel his own tears prick at his eyes and a sob starting to well up in his throat but he held them back. Mustering up the courage and will he finally opened his mouth to speak.

“(Y/N) I am so, so fucking sorry,” his voice pitched just above a whisper because he knew if his voice got any deeper that it would startle you and scare you even more than how you were already feeling right now. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking. It never should’ve hap-“

“Y- You br- broke your promise.” Your reply came in watery, stuttered breaths; the knot in Corpse’s throat came right back up, tears filling his waterline as much as he tried to keep his composure for your sake.

“I know. I know I did.” The man beside you managed to choke out thinking back to the day where he first lost his temper around you. You’d told him everything about your experience with your past relationships and how you were treated, what you used to cope and what he could do to avoid that in any way possible. He promised that day that he would never again raise his voice, or move too fast even when he was angry or frustrated, and made sure to note down anything that would possibly trigger you to completely avoid altogether. And he kept those promises… until today. Tilting his head to glance over at you, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the closet to see you staring straight ahead, tears pouring endlessly down your damp face as your body still shook with soft cries.

“I can’t lose you (Y/N)” Corpse’s voice shook as he tried to figure out the right things to say that would keep you from walking right out that door.

“I’ll do anything. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ll be better, I swear on my life I’ll be better. Anything you need— it’s yours. I just.. I can’t lose you. Not like this.” He hated how much he sounded like he was pleading when he’s the one who fucked up. The last thing he wanted to do was manipulate you into staying with him which was exactly what your ex did when they made the same mistake time and time again; something he swore he’d never even think of doing. But here he was, and here you were glancing up at him with bloodshot eyes, hair sticking to your tear slicked face and body shaking so much you’d think it was below freezing in there.

Tearing your gaze away from his, you heaved a watery, shaky sigh trying your best to get your thoughts in order. While you had your issues, you knew he had his as well; and with as much patience and understanding he gives you with your snappy, frustrated, sad days, you needed to give back that same patience and understanding with his own. You needed to be brave here.

“Baby-“

“C-Can you just hold me? Please?” You sputtered out just above a whisper, and before you could even unwrap your arms from around yourself Corpse was pulling you into his lap; strong arms encasing you as he pushed his face into your hair. That’s when you found out he was shaking just as much as you were, chest rising and falling erratically with contained sobs as he tried to keep his brave demeanour up for you. Tucking your head under his chin he leaned back against the wall as he crushed you to his chest, the droplets hitting the top of your head giving way to the fact that he was crying too. Pulling your arms up from your side, you slowly wrapped them around his shoulder as he pushed his face against the crook of your neck, sobs finally giving way as he cried helplessly into your shoulder; further dampening the already tear-soaked cloth of the hoodie you were wearing.

“I’m sorry,” Corpse sputtered, hooking his chin over your shoulder so he could keep up with the heaving of his chest, pulling an arm up from around your waist to rest on the back of your head. As much as he wanted to run his hands all over your body and bury his fingers in your hair to feel and memorize every inch of you, he kept them still not wanting to overwhelm you more than this kind of touch already did.

“I love you, I love you so much, I love you..“ he whispered over and over into the darkness of the closet as you both began to breath slower as one. Shushing him softly, you repeated the soft words back to him before wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders, ensuring him that you were going to be alright.

There would be bumps in the road but Corpse was worth it.

__________________________________

[lightofraye]

Part Four.

10. Insensitive to Mental Health:

Time stamp 23:21: Claiming a pill in her pocket is a way to help manage her anxiety… is one of the most insensitive thing she could ever say. And thinking it’s that easy to pull out of a panic attack is asinine. Especially when she’s said this:

11. Pretends she knows how to act better than long-time actors:

Time stamp 1:05:05: She tried to behave as though she knew better than Jared regarding acting.

Her lack of career, only able to get a role at all out of nepotism, screams her lack of talent is noticeable and Hollywood has snubbed her.

12. Tried to shame Jensen into getting her a new ring via their daughter:

Danneel used to always wear it and one day she just stopped. In 2018 she asked him for a new one so I’m guessing she might have lost it but she never talked about what happened to it, so it’s just a guess. What’s sad and rude is that Jensen specially designed that ring for her.

According to the defunct @anti-joker-face, they assumed it was lost sometime between 2016 and 2017. They wrote: “I did a timeline, it seems the ring went missing somewhere between 2016 and 2017. I couldn’t find any pictures of her in 2016 where her left hand is visible.”

She “replaced” the lost band with that awful black ring instead.

Wrap Up:

This is incomplete. Absolutely incomplete. I won't attack her bad fashion taste, I won't attack (maybe) her numerous plastic surgeries because all that does is spotlight her vast insecurity about her face and body.

I'm pointing out, shining a light, on bad, practically abusive, behavior. Why she isn't worth stanning. Ever. I'd rather stan a celebrity like Audrey Hepburn or Angelina Jolie (some missteps notwithstanding). Or maybe don't stan a celebrity at all!

All Danneel has done is present reasons not to idolize her.

Indeed... Jensen's noted it too.

(Removed photo as it turned I was wrong about it. In the original he did not look happy to be posing in a photo like that but he posed in the op anyway.)

I mean... he can't even really smile with her anymore....

He's also constantly leaning away from her even now. It's pure subconscious body language. At Wales Comic Con:

If he truly loved her, he would've been at her birthday this year. Except during her ski trip, he was in Los Angeles for an unimportant concert.

There's so much that they tell on each other.... it stuns me that the stans don't see it. Or choose to ignore it.

I won't.

And before anyone gets ideas... this is all backed up. If I get mass reported into being suspended or deactivated, I'll just come back. If I ever leave Tumblr, I'll leave this here. It deserves to be known.

Stan better people, folks.

Fini. For now.

The Reasons I'm Anti-Danneel (Redone)

I've decided to redo the original post, largely as most of it was heavily drawn/copy-pasted from @taraslittlecorner (now defunct/deactivated) and was not a good fit for me.. Listing receipts/evidence of why I feel this way should be calmer, with citations, proof as much as possible.

Here’s a caveat: This is my belief. This is my stance. I am not here to shove this into anyone else’s face and go “You should not be a Danneel fan!” I'm not demanding everyone believe me. This is me explaining why I am not a fan of hers, as to why I dislike her. No, I do not “hate” her. No, I am not obligated to respect her or like her just because she’s Jensen’s wife. That’s absurd.

Whenever possible, I will provide citation. Some I am unable to, because they have been deleted from the internet and unfortunately, the Wayback Machine (aka the Internet Archive) did not archive it and no one else screenshotted/linked the evidence. I will try to keep that as minimal as possible.

I'm placing a content/trigger warning, as there may be descriptions of abuse to follow. If description of abuse bothers you, even emotional abuse, I advise you to skip.

I'll add a cut here because it's going to get long!

**Disclaimer** This are observations and opinions of what I’ve seen, as well as what others have seen on social media, in interviews, etc. Each relationship is different, and each domestic abuse case can vary in degrees of abuse, usually over time, but not always. These are just some of the things we can see publicly, and if things are shown publicly, it’s a safe bet there’s worse happening behind closed doors. I’m not a medical professional nor expert, again, these are opinions and observations. If you suspect someone you love is in an abusive relationship, please contact the proper outlets for battered women and men in your area.

Now to begin.

1. Fat Shaming Him

Jensen eating gummy bears. This post was made as a public stab at Jensen for the amount of gummy bears he was eating. It was a stab at not only his eating habits/weight, but it was also a stab at him being greedy or gluttonous.

Jensen on the carousel. Another stab at Jensen about his weight.

1A. The End Result Of Fat Shaming:

There was this. Yes, it was probably around the time he was training for the marathon with Jared, but this was a scary weight drop. Especially as marathons and running require you to really increase your caloric intake to keep your weight and energy up. On the heels of the public fat-shaming, this is rather shocking.

Dated: January 17, 2018.

Ignoring Danneel's claim of "marathon body", he did look skinny. You can compare how Jensen looked at the beginning of Supernatural to later seasons and there's a distinct difference. He's skinnier. Skinny does not always equate healthy, especially if it's muscle loss.

Unfortunately, other photos are in evidence of the massive weight loss.

This Tumblr post shows him still rather skinny during an event at FBBC.

Every time Jensen has to quarantine with her he starts to look like death warmed over, weight drop, sickly looking skin color, (which is also a sign of malnutrition), and that dead look we can’t get seem to forget. Then we get him back to work, and it’s almost an immediate improvement.

2. Unexplained Injury: There is the chunk that’s missing out of his nose now because of a nose injury that kept being explained in different instances at the same event as to how he even got it. It first appeared a day after the FBBC family reunion event that took place in May of 2018 in a post made by Danneel of Jensen playing with the kids, and people thought it was just a breathe right strip.

If you look closely, you can even see that his eyes looked to be blacked, as if he’d somehow broken his nose. Once he got to an event for Danneel’s Limbo Jewelry line launch in NYC, he kept changing the story as to how he got said injury. First he told fans that he’d hurt it by hitting a pool wall while playing with his kids. Then he said he’d dropped a keg on it. Well, if you’ve ever worked for a bar or been around kegs you know those things are heavy, and that story is untrue.

Had Danneel been walking around with an unknown injury and her story kept changing, it would have gotten attention. Men… not so much, and it shows.

3. Public Humiliation: There’s this Valentine’s Day post. Imagine reading that post, seeing your spouse mention their “first” love and then jokingly say you’re the second and “more important” love. Especially on the heels of Jensen’s fairly recent share at a convention of how “he’ll do” as her “second choice”. Your spouse should’ve been your first and only choice!

Posting him in his underwear just to garner some attention to her post. Honestly, it's pathetic, and adds to the narcissistic sociopath mentality assessment. What was the post about? To sell beer outside of Texas. But using Jensen to do it? Really, Danneel? God.

Then there's the photo of him in the bathroom. Some say he was a willing participant in the joke. I say "That doesn't matter." It's gross, crude, classless. It demonstrates how selfish she is.

I absolutely have a sense of humor. However, a joke only works if everyone is laughing.

Then there's this Jared photo. While not related to Jensen, it demonstrates just how much she doesn't care about people. She stated that she lied to Jared, that she deleted it, and then posted it anyway. How much you wanna bet that this was one of many reasons Jared and Genevieve pulled back from the Ackles? Because Danneel does not respect the Padaleckis, and Jensen cannot get Danneel to actually behave like a human being.

There's the whole AD House Tour. The whole video, she’s taking swipes at Jensen left and right. Claiming he didn't help in changing the kids’ diapers, to not cleaning the house at all, to not cooking at all.

Time stamp 0:58: The way Jensen hastily goes "not swing", to this day, honestly makes me wonder. Especially about that orgy rumor tweet....

Time stamp 1:14: Implying Jensen would be against flowers because it'd be "too girly", but then claiming he loved it. This makes me wonder. You'll see why later on in this post.

Time stamp 2:10: How is it Jensen didn't know that was the sex plant of a palm until then? Did he know nothing about that house??

Time stamp 3:11: Claiming it was Jensen’s first time in the kitchen, which literally doesn't make sense. Unless he'd been barred from the kitchen, surely he'd been in there to grab a beer, a snack, something for the kids. By saying this, she's implying that he uses her as a servant to get him everything. (I’m intrigued by Jensen's statement about the stove/oven, and how it was “so unnecessary”. He's been overruled.)

Time stamp 4:00: Jensen is very, very shocked that the chair moves. How is he that surprised by a moving chair? Does he not live there?! With kids, stuff would move!

Time stamp 5:39: Again, implying Jensen never helps out with the kids, the diapers. Uh, Danneel, neither do you. You have nannies.

Time stamp 6:04: She says it’s “ridiculous” he’s doing a marathon? It’s for charity, Danneel! So much for being a caring, compassionate person.

Time stamp 6:39: Jensen has to go to the guest room when he comes home late at night? Does Danneel not want to greet her husband lovingly, regardless of how late it is? She prioritizes sleep over him? Ooookay.

Time stamp: 6:58: Persistently tortures Jensen with the creepy doll. She knows it bothers him, yet keeps it around and keeps torturing him with it. Yeah, cool, that’s love, folks!

Time stamp 9:04: States rather publicly that he never cleaned the bathrooms. Danneel, honey, I’m fairly certain you don’t either—you have maids.

Time stamp 9:20: Embarrasses Jensen with the “where the magic happens” statement about the master suite. Jensen asked for it to not be included. Oh look. It's included. Overruled him again. He never has his way, does he, Danneel?

Time stamp 9:46: Of course Danneel doesn’t care that Jensen doesn’t like the big window and how people might be able to look in when they’re in the bathroom. She loves the attention and loves bragging about the man she trapped in marriage, no matter how uncomfortable it makes him. So considerate.

Time stamp 11:41: Puts Jensen down by saying she’s a little bit neater than him. Then puts him down again by saying he had help on cleaning up his side. Do you ever praise your husband, woman??

Yet, she praised him here, about how he’s been pitching in with mopping, preparing FBBC. Liar, liar, pants on fire at this point.

The FBBC interview. Let's not kid ourselves. That interview was bad. The interviewer didn't really do a good job, but it revealed a lot about the dynamic between Danneel and Jensen. At one point, Danneel claimed Jensen didn’t smell good, and he tried to excuse it because he was mopping (wait, I thought he didn't do any cleaning, Danneel??). Then she was like “Oh yeah he did so...” Then she made that horrible joke about being pregnant and Jensen actually gagged. Yes, he tried to play it off as a joke, but the look on his face was not that of a man who was happy to hear his wife was pregnant again. (Not to mention, you should never make such jokes because it’s such a heavily sensitive topic. Jokes only work if everyone laughs.) All of it was meant to humiliate and put Jensen down for the work he did in making FBBC a reality. There’s also the part where they were asked if they were tired of each other. Jensen was quick to say “Yes”.

Then there's Wales Comic Con. She made up the fib about auditioning for every single Supernatural female role, claimed she tried to use knowing/being with Jensen as a way in (that's called nepotism, dear), and all of that was... a lie. Then she tried to claim credit for helping Jensen drop the Dean voice while humiliating him about it. (He actually tried to defend himself by saying that was his voice.) The whole panel was humiliation after another. I detailed it in this post.

Not to mention her saying Jensen wasn't anything like David Spade and said “no, but you'll do”. Wow. Way to put your husband down and say he’s second best (again). Good lord.

Yet, she also said this:

Either he helps or he doesn’t, Danneel. Which is it?

4. Controlling. This part. I've gotten push back on this. “She doesn't work, she stays home all the time, how could she possibly control Jensen??”

By controlling his social media, and had been for years. No doubt this is largely to keep the facade of “happily married couple”, with her making posts on his Instagram in honor of her, praising her, and so forth. It’s also a way of monitoring his interactions with others, particularly women, and to keep track of who he’s been in touch with.

Indeed, I suspect up until Danneel’s birthday post this year, any comments, posts, that praised her were all Danneel, not Jensen.

Access to one’s cellphone, email address, and other social media is almost as good as attaching a GPS onto a person. If she accessed his cloud, she can access everything from text messages he’s sent to his most recent emails to his employers.

I have some proof but it will take time to document all of them.

There’s also this post, showing the difference between Danneel and Jensen.

There are also indications, histories, of Danneel signing fan autographs that said something along the lines of “hands off bitches, he’s mine”.

Jealous much, Ms. Graul?

It doesn't come across to me as "adorable" or "mischievous". It comes across to me as an insecure woman who knows her hold is tenuous at best.

But then she has a history of being controlling and jealous everywhere. Such as here and here.

She also insisted on him going out and looking for work all the time. Even after him wanting to reconnect with the family after the end of Supernatural. He suggested a three month trip around Europe, for the family.

Her response?

Then there were the recent cons where he mentioned it again, where Danneel is pushing him to go work, work, work. He’s never allowed to be home, to be a father, to be a husband. A loving marriage? I don't think so.

To be continued in Part Two.

[parvuls]

@missellewoods wrote this post, and i wanted to respond to it, but i also didn’t want to add a thesis-length response to their post. the post was about the complexity of the parse iii scene, and i highly encourage looking at it before reading this, because it’s a direct response. 

i wasn’t sure i was gonna do it, but i’m fascinated with jack’s pov, so.

(transcripts from parse i-iii, plus visual cues from lva@pvd i)

[jack turns around, obviously unhappy/startled] "kent." "hey, zimms. didja miss me?" [smirks]

so parse shows up at the haus for the second time, after jack’s seen him last in either freshman or sophomore year. jack is not happy to see him. this is probably the part the remains the most ambiguous to us as an audience, because it leads up to parse iii: shitty’s story about parse’s first appearance is supposed to make us think that jack is jealous, and that he’s holding a grudge because parse is living his dream while he’s at samwell. however, this story isn’t included to give us more information about jack’s psych -- it is, after all, what we expect from jack after his year 1 arc -- it’s there so the impact of parse iii is more significant. it’s the first time we’re given reason to doubt jack’s heterosexuality and are given an actual glimpse to jack’s past since ‘the hockey prince’.

so is shitty’s story true? obviously ngozi is playing with the narrative here: smh all claim parse is a modest, super nice bro, but then we hear how he talks to jack in parse iii. meaning, ngozi is telling us: believe no one. you can’t actually know what he’s like, or what jack and he are like.

so our scene begins with jack, 1) either upset because his former friend shows up and triggers his intense jealousy, or 2) is upset because his former flame shows up and triggers unresolved feelings. honestly, in my opinion, jack himself isn’t sure which one it is. which is a great set up for the unfolding of the next scene.

[jack and parse are talking about jack’s nhl plans]

"...you have no clue?" "i mean... it could be montreal, it could be l.a. okay? i don't know." "...what about las vegas?" "i... i don't know, okay?" "..." [parse probably moves closer/tries to kiss him] "pars---" "..." "..." [whispered] "--kenny... i can't do this." "...jack. come on."

their conversation starts out relatively neutrally. we’re given enough clues from this update and the future of omgcp to deduce that parse isn’t over what he and jack had. this is also the very reason they don’t work and why this conversation takes a sharp turn downwards from here: parse equates his feelings and whatever sexual/romantic connection they had to the chemistry they had on the ice. to him, jack leaving him and going to play for some obscure college is just as upsetting as their ‘thing’ ending. parse spends most of this scene trying to convince jack to come play with him in lv -- the only reason we even know it’s in some way romantic is because of his reaction to the Cup Kiss in year 3. otherwise, he makes it sound like he misses jack as a liney and best friend, maybe as a sexual partner.

but the catch is, jack was in a really bad place when they were playing together, and he doesn’t want that back. does parse know how bad things were? does parse know about jack’s anxiety? how well does parse know jack, really? this is all kept intentionally hidden from us. you could say that they were best friends, so it’s reasonable that parse knew all of this (thus painting his character in a much worse light), or you could say shitty is jack’s best friend and he still didn’t know major things about him. ngozi doesn’t want us to be able to tell how aware or not aware parse is.

so in the beginning of this scene, we’re on the edge of an inevitable cliff. parse wants jack back, as a friend/flame and as a teammate, and jack’s obviously torn. he doesn’t push parse away immediately, but he also doesn’t consent. my opinion is that jack is torn between his old dream (all his 18-year-old self wanted was to play in the nhl with parse, and win win win), and knowing this isn’t what he wants. but does not wanting that necessarily means he doesn’t want parse himself? jack’s obviously not sure, because he lets parse corner him/kiss him before he decides it isn’t right. 

if anyone here has ever met an old flame, especially someone who was bad for you but you cared for for a long time, you’ll know how easy it is to fall into patterns. for a moment the idea of having that all again is so enticing. but then the illusion shatters, and...

"no, i-- ...uh." [and then much louder] "kenny--" "--zimms, just fucking stop thinking for once and listen to me. i'll tell the gms you're on board and they can free up cap space. then you can be done with this shitty team. you and me --" "get out."

here is the most important part of this scene in my opinion. kent doesn’t know jack anymore. anyone on the face of the planet could tell you that jack is a hardass, that he’s tough on his teammates, that his dream is the nhl. but jack loves his team. he didn’t necessarily always know how to be their friend, but he certainly doesn’t think of them as a ‘shitty team’ he’s stuck with.

and parse makes the mistake of shattering the illusion he’s built (with the clever use of the wording ‘shitty’, which probably reminds jack of the friends he has now). jack wakes up from the dream he had when he was 18 and comes back to reality: he’s samwell men’s hockey team’s captain, he cares for his team, and his new dream is to win the ncaa championship and go to the nhl. he doesn’t want this thing parse is offering him, because the person he’s offering it to isn’t him anymore.

and here is the first twist of this scene that op is referring to: jack starts to get angry.

"--jack." "you can't-- you can't come to my fucking school unannounced --" "--because you shut me out--" "--and corner me in my room--" "--i'm trying to help--" "--and expect me to do whatever you want--" "FUCK -- JACK!!! what do yo want me to say? that i miss you?” [twists his fingers in jack’s shirt, crowding into jack’s space. jack turns away, frowning angrily] “i miss you, okay? ...i miss you."

does parse really miss jack, or is it a ploy? honestly, i think the facial expressions we’re privy to in year 3 hint that he really means that. he misses jack. he doesn’t necessarily miss the current jack (it’s likely that he’s stuck on the fantasy of what they had when they were younger), but he means what he says. he wants jack back.

but jack is angry, because parse is complicating things for him. they were talking about playing together, and then parse insulted his choices, and now parse is talking about being together, and jack -- who took A YEAR PLUS to figure out his feelings for bitty -- probably has a hard time handling all of these things at once. for parse there’s nothing complicated here: the jack he knows wouldn’t want to play for a college team (therefore, =shitty team), and playing with jack=being with jack. 

for jack none of these things work like that anymore. they’ve grown too far apart.

"...you always say that." "...huh. well, shit. okay. ...you know what, zimmermann? you think you're too fucked up to care about? that you're not good enough? everyone already knows what you are but it's people like me who still care."

and... okay. so things go south now, and quickly. if you’re a parse stan... honestly, i hope you’re a parse stan who’s aware parse needs a shit ton of therapy. 

jack insults parse, whether intentionally or unintentionally, by being casual about parse’s declarations of feelings. to be fair, jack thinks parse was playing dirty. but parse doesn’t see it like that, so he’s offended, and apparently when he’s offended he gets angry and lashes out.

now. the unfortunate thing about knowing someone at their most vulnerable time is that you also know exactly how to kick them down to their lowest. we all hurt our loved ones the most, because we know them the best. but parse doesn’t just hurt jack here: he goes for the jugular. he kicks jack and then makes sure he stays down. and this is actually the most we see parse say in the whole comic, so... we can’t judge parse as a whole person, but. i’m sorry. he’s definitely not a good friend to jack.

(how bad of a friend? depends on how aware he was of jack’s anxiety and thoughts and feelings. if he was aware, this is a highly emotionally abusive thing to do. if he wasn’t aware, he was just being a shitty friend. either way, parse needs therapy, because he’s holding on to a lot of anger and is expressing it in a really awful way. but we can’t analyze him any further as a character because parse is not the focus of this story and we don’t know anything more about him.)

[faintly] "--shut up--" "--you're scared everyone else is going to find out you're worthless, right? oh, don't worry, just give it a few seasons, jack. trust me." [probably begins shaking] "...g-get out of my room." "fine. shut me out again." "and stay-... stay away from my team." "why? afraid i'll tell them something?" [voice growing stronger] "leave, parse." [door opening; jack and parse are surprised to find bitty outside the door. jack is visibly shaking, holding the attack at bay]

op asked how jack’s anger turns into a full blown panic attack. the answer is parse goes for his weak points faster than jack can prepare himself, just when jack was open for an attack. he calls jack ‘worthless’, which is jack’s second worst fear, and then (probably) tries for the sexuality angle. it’s unclear whether he’s threatening to out jack or to tell the team about his substance problems, but more likely the former, because the latter was all over the news.

parse is clearly upset here. is he just angry for being rejected? is he humiliated? is he heartbroken? we don’t know. the only hint we have is ‘shut me out again’, which implies he’s at least still upset about jack cutting him off after the draft. what we do know is that jack, with the last shreds of his will power, tries to defend his team. tries to cling on to the idea that he knows there are people who believe in him (this is very hard under the cloud of anxiety).

either way, jack’s panic isn’t even about parse or what parse used to be -- it’s just that parse knows where to press.

[parse clears throat, putting his indifferent mask back on] "hey. well. call me if you reconsider or whatever. but good luck with the falconers." [lands the final blow] "...i'm sure that'll make your dad proud." [jack's panic attack takes over. he retreats to his room, slams the door, and slides down to curl into himself on the floor for an undetermined amount of time]

and then parse, in front of jack’s teammate, lands the worst punch he has in his arsenal. jack’s worst fear. disappointing his dad.

jack spent all of year 2 talking to nhl teams and being watched by scouts and negotiating contracts, and consulting with his dad and his teammates to make a decision. he’s not sure about the falconers until much later, but he obviously leans towards them. which is a whole essay in and of itself: jack leans towards the falconers, a smaller, younger team with no cups, but with a lot of potential and good people and something to prove. this is a metaphor for jack’s growth as a character. he could go for a more established team to look good in front of the world, or pick a winning-streak team like the aces to feed into his anxiety. parse is taunting him with his own growth, making him doubt himself: you think you can change? you think you can really be someone new after playing in some college team? if you’re not who you were when you were 18 and first-pick at the draft (before you ruined everything for yourself and ended up here), you’re no one. and your dad will never be proud of you.

[end scene.]

[abonle]

( @arc-misadventures My comments still don’t work, so I’m putting my thoughts here again.)

Interesting Developments on all fronts!

First, congrats on the love triangle landing with a full swing with the first official actions of both ladies.

On to more serious matters, two things to note that can definitely play into later entries in the story.

The first is Weiss. This is a second strike so to say, and a very serious one. In the post where RWBY learned Jaune was Spec Ops, Weiss rudely insulted him and asked very personal questions about his and Winters relationship off of very little information and a whole lot of jealousy.

Now, upon confirmation of official affection, she has actively pulled a weapon on someone who is a comrade and her superior officer, and from the way you wrote it, I think she intended to actually hit him, only just being stopped by her teammates. It was great fortune for her that neither other Spec Ops, General Ironwood, or her Sister were there to see that atrocious action. But I am aware of the rule of three, and it is very likely that her next attack on Jaune’s person is inevitable. A thought that brings up possibilities.

What step in the relationship will Weiss take offense to next? In what way will she react poorly to this? How will the attempt end? Will Jaune or Winter finally step up and put Weiss in her place to make her stop acting so irrationally? Or will her action succeed and have *many* consequences, for her and others? and will it be the true final nail in the coffin of their friendship when she does without the excuse of Penny’s now understood “errors”?

And speaking of, *that* situation can now spiral into chaos in so many ways. Whether she intended to do it or not, she has been a massive part of the others attempts at reconciliation being sabotaged, and there will most likely be some damage to the relationship between them, especially on the likes of the emotional Nora and Ruby. And of course, this doesn’t mean the situation is fixed. After all, Jaune just caused her to have a panic attack and revealed her actions to the group, which could cause said damage. Losing a good first friend like Ruby would be cause enough for Penny to hate Jaune for that, whether she wants to or not.

And speaking of losing friends, how would this affect her relationship with Winter? It seems like Penny has been spending an awful long time with Winter since Ciel was written out of the show, and could possibly have been more of an assistant. Possibly someone trusted to handle personal matters.

…Like sending out Winter’s invitations to Jaune’s birthday! Yeah, I didn’t forget. On the missed birthday post, it was made clear that Winter sent emails to the others to begin work on Jaune’s birthday party, but it was never mentioned *how* those emails were sent. It may have been through her plucky assistant having a yet to be noted error regarding matters with Jaune Arc during a session of sending out Emails for Winter. So if that connection comes true, I’m looking forward to seeing how that goes.

Anyway, that’s all my thoughts right now. Thank you for reading!

Friends AU:

It's been 6 months since jaune join the ace ops and ironwood has been giving jaune more responsibility after seeing the work his done and even gaining the trust of the poeple

His even been opening up to winter and she's happy to see jaune smile

Wait, What Happened?

Jaune's finger ran across his breastplate, he remember distinctly where precisely, Tryian had stabbed him with his stinger, and yet he couldn't find so much as a scratch on his armour from his stinger.

: Looking for something, Jaune?

Jaune looked over to see, Winter walking across the locker room towards him.

Jaune: Hello, Winter. I'm just checking my armour.

Winter walked over , and stood next to, Jaune running her hand along his chest piece feeling the smooth mental under her gloved fingers.

Jaune: I'm impressed; Atlas's armour's are quite skilled. If it wasn't for the fact that it was me who got stabbed, I dare say I was never stabbed in the first place.

Jaune finished speaking as he put on his armour, and fastened its straps. After, Jaune checked the snugness of his armour, he grabbed a small black box, and pulled out a silver falcon badge, and placed it on his left coat collar. Winter watched as, Jaune put the badge on, eyeing it with extreme suspicion.

Winter: What... What is that?

Jaune: Hmm, oh this?

Jaune turned to look at, Winter as he pointed to the silver falcon badge.

Winter: Yes, that...!

Jaune: Yeah, I got this from, Robyn Hill.

Winter: Robyn Hill gave you that...?

Jaune: Yeah.

Winter: And, why did she give you this... thing...?

Jaune: Uhh...? It's a token of affection...

Winter: A token of what now...?

Jaune: I-It was a thank you! I saved her from, Tyrian, she gave me this as a gift!

Winter: Then why are you calling it a, 'token of affection...?!"

Jaune: W-W-Well, I'm a knight... a k-knight in shining white armour, and I saved the maiden from a monster... S-so she gave me this badge as a 'token of affection!'

Winter: So, you two were just playing on your knightly stereotype...?

Winter was walking ever closer to, Jaune leading to be place his back against the locker as her ice cold gaze stared him down.

Jaune: Y-Yes...?

Winter gave him a look before grabbing his sash, and tightening it, Before using it to pull him closer to her.

Winter: Then this is my token of affection. That I gave to my knight. Remember that!

Jaune: O-O-Okay!

Winter: Good... I'll see you in the meeting room, Jaune.

Jaune: O-Okay...

Winter then let go of, Jaune and started walking away, a noticeable sway in her hips as she left. Jaune slowly slide down the locker doors until his butt slumped on the ground as he exhaled a deep breath as he calmed his nerves.

Jaune: Bloody hell...

: Well, that was something?

Jaune: What?

: Who knew that, Winter could be so jealous. But, for you, Jaune, I can understand why~!

Jaune: Ohhh... shut it, Pyrrha...

Pyrrha: Ah-hahaha~!

~~~

Ironwood: Ahh, Specialist Arc. Glad you could make it.

Jaune: Sorry, I'm late, Sir.

Ironwood: It's alright, Mr. Arc. It makes sense that you are a little groggy since it hasn't even been a day since you were in the hospital.

Yang: Wait, Jaune was in the hospital?

Ruby: What was he in for?

Ironwood: Honestly, Mr. Arc, I'm tempted to order you to some, R and R. The last reports I read did say your you're still fighting off the last of the poison in your body.

Nora: Jaune was poisoned?!

Blake: How did that happen?!

Jaune: Only if you do the same, Sir.

Ironwood: That's not happening.

A small chortle of laughter echoed through the meeting hall, but it stopped as, General Ironwood started the briefing.

Ironwood: Now, two days ago we were alerted to the fact that, Tyrian Callows was in, Mantle...

The presentation started, showing a photo of, Tyrian's insane expression,

Qrow: Ugh, not that deranged fucker...

Ren: This isn't going to be good.

Ironwood: Luckily, thanks to, Specialist Arc's recent actions, we will not need to worry about him causing any chaos.

The next photo of the presentation displayed a photo showing another picture of, Tyrian his mouth, and eyes closed, and a purple ring ran along his neck as it was bent at an odd angle.

Qrow: He's dead?!

Ruby: Jaune killed him?!

Weiss: The hell...?!

Ironwood: And, because of, Specialist Arc actions we've were able to acquire several useful items of information's...

The presentation changed to show a photo, and a diagnostic of, Tyrian's prosthetic tail.

Nora: He got a new tail?

Ruby: Well yeah, he had too after I cut it off.

Nora: Oh yeah, I forgot about that.

Weiss: You did what?!

Ironwood: Thanks to the efforts of the, Atlas Corp of Engineers as well as help from, Dr. Polendina we were able to find a... stylistic signature.

Nora: What's that?

Penny: A set of distinctive stylistic choices, be they patterns, methods, or overall designs that renders someone work identifiable from a glance.

Nora: Wha?

Ironwood: This 'signature' was identified to be from someone we thought dead. This man here...

The slide turned to show a photo of a lanky, scarecrow of a man in a white lab coat.

Ironwood: This man is, Arthur Watts, we assumed he died ten years ago in a lab explosion. Since we never found the body, we can now assume that he faked his death. Now, Arthur Watts is highly skilled with cybernetics, and biomechanics. He is not a skilled fighter, but he makes up with his skills in computers. So, while you are out in the field, keep an eye out for, Watts. Watts, and anyone else you may see with him. Any questions?

Several hands among the, Specialist rose up, Ironwood nodded his head in silent pride of his, Specialist incitive to ask questions about their missions.

Ironwood: Clover?

Clover: Since we've identified this man, and we know his specialties. what counter massagers are we implementing to counter him?

Ironwood: We've been beefing up the cybersecurity, and fire walls around, Atlas to prevent him from exploiting our systems.

Jaune: Are you also upgrading the cybersecurity for, Mantle, Sir?

Ironwood: Yes, after the implantations of the fortifications are done, we need to beef up the severally unreliable security systems in, Mantle.

Jaune: Good. May, I ask another question, Sir?

Ironwood: Of course.

Jaune: During the, Fall, the, Atlas's Knights turned on us. Do you think that this, Arthur Watts fellow had anything to do with that?

Ironwood: Hmmm... That is a good question... It is likely theory that it was him who hacked our, Knights during the, Fall. I best order that the, Knight be given an upgrade as well. Excellent observation, Specialist Arc.

Jaune: Thank you, Sir.

Harriet: Wait, if this man hacked, and hijacked our, Knights... Then what's the chance of him doing the same to, Penny? I mean... she may look human, but she is an android.

Silence enveloped the room as everyone turned to look at, Penny as she nervous looked about. Ruby took her hand as she tried to reassure her friend at the sudden realization that she could be hack, and turned to attack her friends.

Ironwood: Hmm... Penny?

Penny: Y-Y-Yes, Sir?

Ironwood: Call your father, I wish to have a meeting with him at his lab, and I will require your presence as well for this meeting. We have... much to discuss about.

Penny: Yes, Sir...

Ironwood: Now, then... Specialist Arc?

Jaune: Yes, Sir?

Ironwood: Based on the fact, Tyrian tried to attack, Robyn Hill, it is evident she has become a target. I want you to go down to, Mantle, and inform her of the situation. Since you saved her from, Tyrian she will no doubt trust you.

Yang: Wait, Jaune saved, Robyn Hill?

Nora: When did that happen?!

Penny: The same day he killed, Tyrian Tallows.

Weiss: When did that happen?

Penny: Three days ago.

RWBYNR: What?!

Nora: Did you know this, Penny?

Penny: Yes, I was there when we extracted, Tyrian's dead body.

Ruby: Why didn't you tell us any of this?!

Penny: ...

Penny: Error...

RWBYNR: WHAT?!

The Specialists, as well as, General Ironwood all stared at the members of, Team RWBY as well as, Penny, Nora, and Ren. waiting for them to stop their impromptu conversation.

Ruby: Eh-hehe... Sorry...

The group finished staring at them before returning to face, General Ironwood, and his presentation.

Jaune: Understood. How much information am I allowed to share with her, Sir?

Ironwood: Only what she needs to know, Specialist.

Jaune: Understood.

Ironwood: Now then, go down to, Mantle, and inform her of what is happening.

Jaune: Yes, Sir! Permission to leave, Sir?

Ironwood: Permission granted.

Jaune got up, and grabbed, Crocea Mors, attaching it to his waist as he made to leave, but was stopped as, Winter made an impromptu request.

Winter: Sir! Permission to accompany, Specialist Arc.

Ironwood: Denied.

Winter: May I ask why, Sir?

Ironwood: You are needed here for information about, Tyrian's prosthetic tail.

Winter: But, shouldn't, Specialist Arc be accompanied by his fellow, Specialist's? After all, it hasn't been a day yet since he was discharged from the hospital.

Ironwood: No, Specialist Arc, has proved himself more than capable of handling himself with, Tyrian; He should be fine.

Winter: But, shouldn't he have someone with him when it comes to dealing with that bitch...?! I mean, Robyn Hill?

Vine: Did she just call, Robyn Hill a, 'bitch?'

Elm: I-Is she jealous...?

Harriet: Wait, does that mean, Winter likes...?!

Clover: Oh, he's totally going to have to explain that to me later.

Marrow: Wait... what's going on?

Ironwood: No, your reputation as my second, and as, Jacques Schnee's daughter will no doubt sour her willingness to discuss anything with you present.

Winter: Shit!

Ironwood: You're dismissed, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: Uhh... Yes, Sir.

Winter soon took her seat, her arms crossed as she silently grumbled to herself. But, as she grumbled to herself, Harriet leaned over to ask her the important question that was on everyone's mind.

Harriet: So... You, and Jaune~?

Winter: Fuck off!

Harriet: Okay?!

All the while this was happening, Weiss was a few rows behind her sister losing her mind at the sudden realization.

Weiss: Winter... likes, Jaune?!

Yang: Looks like he did steal your sister away...

Weiss: What the fuck?!

Ruby: Guys the meetings over, we need to ask, Jaune what happened before he leaves!

Yang: Oh, shit you're right!

Nora: Let's go! He's got a lot of questions to answer us!

Weiss: Many questions!

~~~

Ruby: Jaune wait!

Jaune was walking towards the landing pads, and was about to reach one of the bullheads when his named was called out from behind him. When he turned around he saw seven individuals he wasn't looking forward to see. A tired sigh escaped his lips, as he stood before them with his hand resting on his swords pommel.

Jaune: Can I help you?

Ruby: You were in the hospital?!

Blake: You killed, Tyrian?!

Ren: They said you were poisoned, were you poisoned because of, Tyrian's stinger?

Nora: Why didn't you tell us any of this?!

Weiss: Did you fuck my sister?!

Jaune was going to answer their string of questions, but was stopped when, Weiss asked her very deliberate, 'important' question. In fact, her question derailed everyone's train of thought. They all shared a stare at, Weiss who looked back at them all in indignation.

Weiss: What?

Jaune just shook his head, before answering everyone's question, deciding to answer, Weiss's first. She looked like she was about to blow a gasket if he didn't answer her first.

Jaune: Okay, Weiss... Winter, and I... Well... we're not in a relationship... there is something there... but... we're... yeah...

Yang: You have no idea what's going on between the two of you, do you?

Jaune: I have as much as an idea as, Winter does. I mean, I like her, she likes me... She kissed me when I was in the hospital. Other than...?!

Weiss: YOU KISSED HER?!

A flash of steel flew through the air as, Weiss drew her rapier, and pointed it at, Jaune's face. He stared at the tip of the blade, resting mere inches from his face. Jaune watched as, Weiss, was being restrained by, Yang, and Ruby. While, Jaune just nonchalantly pushed the blade away from his face with his finger.

Jaune: Weiss, if you want to know anything about this... situation, then ask, Winter. I'm still not sure what to do with her, and... yeah...

Weiss: Fine... but, if I heard you did anything to my sister, I will gut you like a fish!

Jaune: Noted...

Weiss then sheathed her blade, but was still staring daggers at, Jaune.

Jaune: Haa... Okay...

Jaune: I went to the walls of, Mantle to check on the progress of the fortifications. I learned that members of the, Happy Huntresses caused a small disruption at the wall. I learned about a rally that, Robyn Hill was holding, so I went down to ask her what happened.

Jaune: It turns out that only a few of her followers went down to the wall, they were simply demanding why it was taking so long, Luckily members of the, Happy Huntresses dispersed the crowds. After, Robyn Hill explained this to me, I decided to stick around so nothing happened. Good thing that I did...

Jaune: While I was watching the crowd at the rally I noticed a suspicious individual making their way to the stage. I moved to cut them off, and low, and behold it's, Tyrian.

Jaune: So, we fought, I was mostly stalling for time for help to arrive, and to buy time for the civilians to get out. Robyn stayed behind to help me fight, Tyrian. I learned that, Robyn was, Tyrian's target, so to make sure he didn't kill her I threw my sword at him. This left me exposed, and then he jumped me, stabbed my in the shoulder with his shoulder. He then pinned, Robyn down, and was about to kill her. When I then got up, and snapped his neck, killing him. Then fainted, no doubt from a combination of, Tyrian's poison, and an adrenaline rush. Then I woke up in the hospital a day later. Annnnd, that's it.

As, Jaune finished speaking everyone stopped, and stared at, Jaune in stunned amazement. Several of them, Yang, and Blake wanted to call bullshit, but since had, Tyrian's dead body in a morgue somewhere, it was pretty difficult to deny it.

Yang: Okay... that's a lot to take in...

Ren: All of that happened in a day... half a day at that?!

Jaune: A little less than that, but yeah, pretty much.

Blake: You got stabbed by, Tyrian's stinger, and got poisoned?

Jaune: Yeah, his prosthetic stinger was strong enough to pierce my armour. Not to mention his semblance made a hole in my aura to pierce through it. So, I got poisoned. Least I killed, Tyrian, and saved, Robyn Hill.

Nora: Jaune... W-Why didn't you tell us any of this happened?

Jaune could hear the sorrow, and the pain upon, Nora's face. He looked at her, and gave a tired sigh. But, as he thought of his answer, an interesting question came to mind.

Jaune: I was in a coma for over a day, and when I woke up I was going through medical tests to check for poison in my veins. But, if you want to be upset with anyone for not telling you I was in the hospital, they you should ask her, and ask why she didn't tell anyone I was in the hospital.

Jaune looked past, Nora, and looked towards, Penny who walked back in shock.

Penny: M-Me? Why me?

Jaune: You were there when the, Specialists took me to the hospital, and you were there with me, and General Ironwood when I was giving him a debriefing at the hospital. Why didn't you tell them anything about happened?

Penny: Well I...?

Jaune: Now that I think about it... You've been asked multiple times to contact, and find me, and you didn't, couldn't. You were supposed to invite people to my birthday, but you didn't invited anyone. You forgot about me during the game of hide 'an go seek. And, you've lost my contact data several times when you wanted to talk to me. Penny, do you hate me?

Penny: No, I don't hate you. Hiccup!

Everyone froze as they all turned to look at, Penny as a stunning realization slowly came in.

Yang: She hiccupped...?

Weiss: She's lying, why is she lying...?

Jaune: Do you hate me, Penny?

Penny: No, I'm don't. Hiccup!

Jaune: What did I do to make you hate me, Penny?

Penny: Nothing. I don't... Hiccup! I don't hate you. Hiccup!

Jaune: You know hiccupping is your tell, Penny. We all know you're lying. Why are you lying?

Penny: I'm not! Hiccup!

Jaune felt like, Penny was hiding something, not from him, no she was hiding something from herself. And, whatever it was involved him, but how was the question.

Jaune: You're not angry at me for something I did?

Penny: No, no I'm not!

Nora: She didn't hiccup?

Ren: But, why is she hiccupping?

Jaune: You're not angry at me for something I did... Then... Are angry at me because of something someone else did to you?

Penny: No. Hiccup!

Ruby: Why is she angry at him for something someone else did to her?

Yang: Good question...

Jaune: You're angry at me because of something someone else did to you. Yet, you're taking out your anger on me, and not the other person. You're using me as a proxy because you can't let that person know that you hate them...

Penny: N-No I'm not! Hiccup!

Jaune: Not because you don't want them to know you hate them, but because you can't hate them because... because they're dead...

A silence hung in the air as the realization struck them. Penny didn't hate, Jaune because it was, Jaune. She hated him because he was close to someone who hurt, Penny, and Jaune was the only person she could hurt in retribution.

But, this hate had been shoved away by, Penny's subconscious mind. Deep away that she could no longer remember what, or who it was she hated. But, the memory was not shoved deep enough that she didn't remember the raw emotions of this hate. No, she remembered the pain, the sorrow, and her hatred of the one who wronged her.

As, Jaune's mind struggled to put the pieces together he came to a sudden, and startling realization. The fact that there was only one person who had wrong, Penny, and was close to, Jaune that she could direct her hatred towards him.

Jaune: Pyrrha... You're angry at me, because, Pyrrha, my partner, killed you. And, because she's is dead, you cannot direct that hatred towards her, so you've been subconsciously directing it towards me. So, the reason you've been forgetting about me... Is because you've been substituting me for, Pyrrha, and you don't remember that you hate, Pyrrha. So you forget me?

Jaune smiled as he came to this stunning realization. It was a mad, and an absolutely bonkers idea. But, the worst part about, Jaune's mad theory was that it made sense, too much sense. And, they all knew that it was exactly what, Penny was subconsciously thinking when she started hiccupping like a storm.

Penny: That's not...! Hiccup! That's...! Hiccup! I don't...! Hiccup! Pyrrha, didn't...! Hiccup! I-I-I-I...! Hiccup! Hiccup! Hiccup!

Ruby: Penny? Penny, Penny, Penny!

Ruby, and Weiss rushed forward and, caught, Penny she was stumbling about in a fit of hiccups.

Weiss: She's having a panic attack!

Jaune: Ren, use your semblance!

Ren: On it!

Ren reached over, and placed his hand on, Penny's shoulder as a black wave flooded over, Penny as he breathing calmed down, and became more steadied. As they were all watching these things, Jaune gave them a look before walking back to the bullhead.

Ruby: J-Jaune?! Where are you going?

Jaune: I'm sorry, but I have a job to do. I don't have the time, or the training to deal with, Penny's hidden trauma. And, since I seem to be part of the cause of her trauma, I think it'd be for the best that I leave.

Jaune walked onto the bullhead and grabbed the handle bars on top.

Jaune: I'll leave this... situation to you. Till later then.

As the bullhead started to lift away, Jaune spared one last glance at the group as they all comforted their friend. Jaune couldn't help but feel envious that they showed such compassion to their friend.

But, it anger him, because they never showed such compassion to him. Never.

~~~

Jaune was walking down the auditorium as civilians walked around resetting things, some stopped him, and thanks them for saving them, Jaune just told them to thinking nothing of it, he was just doing his job.

But, as, Jaune moved closer, he looked up, and saw, Robyn, and some of her fellow, Happy Huntresses upon the stage. When, Robyn saw him, a wide smile erupted across her face as she came down to greet him.

Robyn: Jaune! You're here!

Jaune: Miss Hill, It is a pleasure to see you are doing well.

Jaune held out his hand as, Robyn came closer to him. Robyn looked at his hand for a moment before remembering to adopt her mask as, Ironwood's political enemy, thus, Specialist Jaune Arc's enemy.

A small smile still spread across her face as she shook, Jaune's hand before adopting a neutral mask once more.

Robyn: It is a pleasure to see you as well, Specialist Arc. How are you doing? I heard you were in the hospital for a while dealing with that scorpion faunas's poison.

Robyn knew fully well what happened to him at the hospital. She went there, and kissed... Checked up on him! No doubt this was just all a political game for the audience to enjoy.

Jaune: Luckily I was able to get to the hospital quickly, and was administered antivenom. I was unconscious for about a day as my body fought it, but bar being a little groggy I am fine. I'm on light duty while I fight threw the last of the poison.

Robyn: I see...

Jaune: Tell me, Miss Hill, how are you doing? Dealing with a near death experience from a psychotic faunas who wanted you dead because your platform wasn't pro-faunas enough must have been pretty straining.

Robyn quirked an eye brow at, Jaune's statement. She quickly caught on to the story he was trying to spread so the citizens present could better understand why, Robyn was attacked by, Tyrian Callows.

Robyn: Ahh yes... Well, you try, and give people something to make their lives easier, yet they still want the world...

Jaune: Did you expect someone like the late, Jacques Schnee to be happy with a just one slice of the cake?

Robyn: No he wouldn't. The greedy bastard would want the whole bakery.

The duo of a politician, and a Specialist as well as several of the people surrounding them shared a laugh. There are many things that divided the people of, Atlas, and Mantle, but shitting on, Jacques Schnee was something that would unite them all.

Jaune: Now then, I need to have a word with you, Miss Hill. It has to do with your recent attack. Alone.

Robyn: Very well. Will you come with me?

Jaune: Lead the way, Miss Hill.

~~~

Robyn, had taken, Jaune on a walk to the head quarters of the, Happy Huntresses. Wasn't much of a place really, just a abandoned warehouse with beddings, and what not put into it to make it live able.

Jaune: And, this is your 'secret base?' It's nice... A little spartan for my liking.

Robyn: You don't like it?

Jaune: Nope. It's has about as much life, and personality as your wanted posters do.

Robyn: Wanted posters? HAS, General Ironwood made wanted posters for...?

Jaune: Your political posters.

Robyn: My campaign posters? What are you...?

Robyn turned to look at one of her campaign posters. She gazed at the strong, and proud visage as it presented in her in a...

Robyn: Oh shit... It does look like a wanted poster...

Robyn's body slumped over as she realized the blunder she had just made. Jaune walked by her, patting her should in a comforting gesture.

Jaune: Don't worry, you're worth at least, ten thousand lien.

Robyn: T-Ten thousand?! I'm at least worth fifteen thousand!

Jaune: Yeah, keep dreaming big, Robyn. Keep dreaming.

Robyn: Ass...

Jaune: Haha.

Jaune then walked past, Robyn as he rubbed his head with his hand letting loose a tired, and pained groan.

Robyn: Are you okay?

Robyn walked over to, Jaune, and place her hand on his shoulder.

Jaune: I'm fine... just a little dizzy. Poison is still being purged from my system.

Jaune shook his head as a deep breath left his lungs.

Jaune: Okay, let's get down to business...

Jaune: Your would be assassin, as I mentioned before, his name was, Tyrian Callows. He was sent here to kill you in order to destabilize the relationship between, Atlas, and Mantle.

Robyn: I suppose that line about me not being pro-faunas enough for his liking was for the common folk?

Jaune: A lie yes, but a believable one nonetheless. The White Fang may have been weakened in the rest of, Remnant, but based on the reports I've read there is still a sizeable force here in, Mantle.

Robyn: Really? I thought after what happened at, Beacon, and at Haven Academy they would have been disbanded.

Jaune: Technically they did, that is if you can call a rebranding a disbanding.

Robyn: They rebranded?

Jaune: Yep, the Atlas faction of the, White Fang is now calling themselves the, Ice Fangs.

Robyn: Ice Fang? Not a bad name...

Jaune: Better than the 'Happy Huntresses.' Who came up with that dumb name?

Robyn: Hey!

Robyn lightly punched, Jaune's arm as he laughed at her expense. The smile on her face was radiant as she laughed with him. But, her smile slowly fell as serious face crossed her face.

Robyn: Will he be the last, or the first among many that seeks to take my life?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: It's hard to tell... They might come after you again, so I suggest you keep your guard up. But, they might not come after you; General Ironwood is their main target, there's no doubt about that. Tyrian may have just been exploring, Mantle, learned that you were holding a rally, and that you happened to be there. You could have just been nothing more than a target of opportunity.

Robyn: That's somewhat comforting...

Robyn: You promise you'll save me, from these... shadows in the dark?

Jaune: I swore that I would, Robyn. Arc's don't break their word.

Robyn walked over to, Jaune and gently grabbed his collar as she looked at him.

Robyn: You know... It really is nice to have a knight in shinning armour watching over me...

As she was playing with his collar, she noticed he was wearing the badge she gave him.

Robyn: You're wearing the badge I gave you! It's crooked, may I...?

Jaune: Go ahead. I just put it on today. I think it got moved around when, Winter interrogated me about it.

Robyn froze as she was readjusting the badge.

Robyn: She did what...?

Jaune: Yeah, she saw it, and I explained it how I got it, and why I called it a token of affection, she lost it when I said that...

Robyn: Lost it...?

Jaune: Yeah. She gave me this sash when I join the, Specialist as a present. Then after she learned about the badge you gave me being a token of affection, me being a knight and all of that. She decided that this sash was her token of affection, to her knight. It was really scary actually...

Robyn: A token of affection...? Winter's token of affection... for you...?

Jaune: Yeah... her token of affection for her knight. That's what she said.

Robyn: 'Her' knight...? Jaune...?

Jaune: Y-Yes, Robyn...?

Jaune felt a chill run up his spine, a chill that only intensified as she stared at him with those cool lilac eyes of hers. She gripped the collars of his coat in her hands as she gave him a cold smile.

Robyn: Jaune~! Please tell me what your relationship with, Winter Schnee is~?

Jaune: S-S-She's my superior officer! Nothing more!

Robyn: It's red!

Jaune: What?! You're using your semblance on me, not cool, Robyn!

Robyn: Tell me the truth, Jaune!

Jaune: Okay okay okay! I have a crush on her, she somehow has a crush on me of all people! She's given me a token of affection! That's it!

Robyn: Its red again!

Jaune: Okay, okay! We've kissed, that's it!

Robyn: When did you two kiss?!

Jaune: At the hospital! B-Before you kissed me!

Robyn: What?! She kissed you before me, dammit! Alright then, Jaune... you tell, Specialist Winter Schnee this! We are at war!

Jaune: War? What are you talking abou... MMPH?!

Robyn pulled, Jaune in by the collar for a hungry, and thirsty kiss. As the kiss ended, she bit his lips, dragging her teeth across his lips as she pulled away, as she let out a deep, hungry gasp of air, as she stared at him with hearts in her eyes.

Robyn: We're at war, for you~!

Jaune: F-F-For me...?!

Robyn: For you~!

Jaune: Uh oh...

~~~

Jaune entered the locker room for the, Specialist. He hadn't done much today, mostly talking with people, but good gods he felt exhausted.

As he entered the room, he saw, Winter at her locker. She turned, and smile when she heard him enter.

Jaune: Hey, Winter.

Winter: Oh, hello... Jaune...?

Jaune: Something wrong, Winter?

Winter walked over to, Jaune grabbing his cheeks as she looked at his face.

Winter: Is that lipstick on your face?

Jaune: Oh shit! I forgot to... Ahhh?!

Winter fiercely grabbed, Jaune by his collar, a common theme of the day so it seemed.

Winter: Who kissed you?!

Considering this was the third time he had been roughly grabbed by his collars by a feisty. Huntress, Jaune decided it was best to just answer her, less he gets killed, but a jealous woman.

Jaune: Robyn, Robyn Hill did it! S-She likes me, just like you do!

Winter: SHE WHAT?!

Jaune: A-And, she kissed me as her declaration of war to you!

Winter: A declaration of war? For what?

Jaune: M-Me...

Winter: Okay... then the next time you see her, Jaune, tell her this!

Jaune: Tell her wha... MPHH?!

For the second time today, Jaune had been pulled in by the collar for a fierce kiss. Instead of teeth biting his lips, Jaune felt, Winter's tongue invade his mouth leaving a trail of saliva as she broke the kiss.

Winter: I accept~!

Winter lightly tapped his cheeks as she left, leaving a stunned, and very confused, Jaune behind. He panted heavily as he whipped his lips clean of the make up, and saliva from, Winter's tongue. With nothing but, one thought upon his mind.

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Well, I'm fucked...

[explosionshark]

31 the I cant keep kissing strangers one for jack/Miranda. U know, if u want to

I’m gonna cheat bc I remembered the prompt wrong and already wrote half of it in my head while I was showering, so

-

It’s years of experience, it’s meticulous and brutally honed control of her body, it’s her genetic predisposition to deceit and manipulation that keeps Miranda from reacting when her the alert pings, a brief series of flashes on the corner of her ocular overlay. S.O.S.

Dupont’s hand is on her thigh, just under the material of her dress, grip damp and too tight. He’s leaning in close, under the auspice of speaking into her ear in the crowded club, but she recognizes the clumsy excuse to peek down her dress for what it is. It takes every ounce of restraint not to shove him bodily away and rush straight for the rendezvous waypoint blinking on her display -- a maintenance closet beneath a stairwell at the back of the club. There’s a thrum of panic in Miranda’s chest that she squashes with a deep, subtle breath and a careful flick of her hair. She drags a teasing finger down Dupont’s chest as she leans back.

“Excuse me a moment,” she pitches her voice low, breathy, the way she knows he must be imagining it sounds in bed. She shoots him a smoldering look over her shoulder before she leaves, adding a bit of whine to her words. Desperate women are, to men like this, honey to flies. “Don’t go where I can’t find you.”

She’s careful as she slips into the crowd, gait controlled, face expertly molded into an expression annoyed enough to ward off potential interruption from men, yet still bland enough to fail to catch the interest of anyone watching.

It’s torture, keeping her pace unhurried as scenario after gruesome scenario of what could have gone wrong plays out in vivid detail. Jack wounded, bleeding out among the bleach bottles and filthy mops. A Cerberus trap, Jack captured, bait to lure her to the same fate. Dozens upon dozens of equally vivid, equally terrible possibilities conjured with each leisurely step, all laying the same accusation at her feet: Miranda’s mistake, with Jack paying the price.

Jack hadn’t been Miranda’s first choice.

Miranda’s list of trusted contacts is smaller than it’s ever been and shrinking by the day. Trusted and available? Smaller still.

She had wanted Shepard. Or, better yet, Kasumi. But Shepard was wrapped up on some affair on Tuchanka and Kasumi was running a different op for the Shadow Broker, out on the edges of the Terminus.

Jack had been an indulgence - and one that was proving to be foolish and selfish.

She was humanity’s strongest biotic and one of the most capable operators Miranda had ever known, but her strength lied in frontal assaults. Massive destruction, flamboyant, devastating attacks with lots of collateral damage. Not delicate infiltration missions like this.

She should have been safe with her students on Grissom Station, not here dying for Miranda’s cause, not--

--Grabbing Miranda roughly by the hips, slamming her back against the shelving unit along the wall hard enough to rattle the metal, laying the flat of her arm across Miranda’s chest, just under her neck, to pin her there.

“What do you think you’re doing?“ Miranda hisses. She can’t see any obvious injuries or damage to Jack in the dim light of the closet, not held in place like this. When she raises her hands to pat down Jack’s body there’s a flair of shimmering blue light in the air, and then the always disconcerting staticky sensation of stasis fields pinning them in place at her sides.

“What am I doing?” Jack huffs, fists still bunched in the material of Miranda’s dress. A shame - it had been nice. Expensive. She can feel the material ripping under the strain of Jack’s grip and despite everything, she finds it distantly erotic. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Miranda, for all of her considerable intellect, feels like she is at least three steps behind a conversation she doesn’t remember starting. She shakes her head, twisting as much as she can with her hands pinned. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m not fucking hurt,” Jack snaps, hips jolting forward to slam into Miranda’s rattling the shelf again. This time she hears the fabric of the dress rip in Jack’s hands, can’t contain the shiver it sends down her spine that Jack absolutely notices. “I’m fed up. I can’t keep watching you kiss strangers.”

Jealousy? Miranda doesn’t bother trying to hide her laugh. “If you’ll remember, my kissing a stranger was a key part of the plan you agreed to. I was supposed to be doing that while you were--”

“Keep him busy,” Jack growls, “You were supposed to keep him busy while I did all the hard work. You never told me your plan to distract the guy was to let him put his big stupid gorilla hands all over your--”

“Someone was taking their time ‘doing all the hard work,’“ Miranda sneers back. “I had to improvise. He was losing interest.”

“Hey, it’s your stupid hack module that wasn’t working,” Jack accuses.

Of course, at that exact moment, Miranda’s display pings again. The tracker she’d slipped into Dupont’s jacket shows him leaving the bar, headed for the elevator to his suite.

“Jack, let me go,” Miranda says quietly, urgently, and to her credit Jack does so immediately without arguing. “He’s on the move. I can try to head him off in the lobby, but-- Look, this is very important. Did you leave any evidence you were tampering with the safe or anything else in his room?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jack snorts. “I think he’s gonna notice his top secret Cerberus Reaper hacking plans are missing.”

“But you said the module--”

“Yeah, total crap. Useless. I just blasted the ever-loving shit out of the safe.”

“Jack.”

“Anyway, if he’s on the way up there he’s gonna notice uh. Pretty much right away. We should get out of here.”

“We should have been gone the moment you compromised the plan,” Miranda hisses, following Jack out of the closet, wincing at the sudden too-bright light of the hallway.

“Nag, nag, nag,” Jack drawls, throwing open the emergency exit door to the alley behind the hotel with a truly unnecessary flair of biotics.

“We went over the codes before we even got here,” Miranda reminds her. In the back of her mind, she’s counting down the seconds they have before Dupont realizes he’s been robbed, before he puts together she was involved, before he decides to come after them for the data (bad) or alert Cerberus to what happened (worse). She figures in how long it would take to stop running and strangle Jack in one of these dank Illium alleyways and realizes, regrettably, she can’t afford the slowdown. “There’s one for emergency exit, one for mission compromised, one for package acquired. Any of those would have done. S.O.S. is emergency only.”

“Well, it was an emergency, okay?” Jack says, stopping short at the curb while Miranda calls forth the skycar she’d arranged with a flick of her omin-tool.

“How so?” Miranda demands, shoving Jack into the back of the skycar first and clambering in gracelessly after her, ruined dress gaping open in the front. “This is coming out of your pay, by the way.”

“It was a pre-emergency--”

“That’s not a thing.”

“If his hand got any higher up your skirt I was gonna blow both of our covers by ripping his arms off in the middle of the bar.”

Miranda should still be mad -- furious -- that Jack had scared her so badly. Should be angry for the terribly botched mission as well, the absolute flouting of her discreet and effective plan.

But they’ve lived. Another day in a galaxy torn apart by war on multiple fronts, another day outmaneuvering the Illusive Man himself, another day Miranda gets to find herself in the company of this beautiful, blunt, maddening, impossible woman.

And they had gotten the data, despite everything. A success, however unconventional.

And if all she has to show for it is another burned identity and a ruined dress, Miranda finds she doesn’t mind as much as she might have in any other circumstance besides this -- in the backseat of a skycar with Jack, genuinely irritated to have seen someone else touching Miranda, a torn dress, the thrum of adrenaline still rushing through her veins.

“Never figured you for the jealous type, Jack,” Miranda says, relenting, twisting in the seat to pin Jack with a simmering look.

“Yeah, you did,” Jack mutters. “Were probably counting on it when you asked me to do this thing with you. Probably got off on it. Control freak.”

“Why would I do something like that?”

“Probably has something to do with you being an arrogant psycho that’s obsessed with keeping me under your thumb.”

Miranda pauses in the dark of the backseat and stares Jack down. She’s tense, pupils blown wide, breath coming in gradually quickening gasps.

Miranda has seen Jack scared and angry and hurt before. She’s seen her wound up tight on adrenaline, turned on to the point of recklessness too. Knows well enough the difference between the two to recognize this for what it is.

It’s that confidence that draws Miranda across the space between them, shrugging the straps of her dress down her shoulders in a movement that allows her to reach the zipper in the back and slide it down immediately after. Jack doesn’t move to stop her when Miranda drops a hand to Jack’s thigh, a more elegant parody of Dupont’s boorish groping earlier. The higher Miranda’s hand ventures, the further open Jack spreads her legs, nostrils flaring as Miranda leans in close, whispering into her ear at the same time as her hand slips past the waistband of Jack’s pants, to the soaked front of her underwear.

“Funny, Jack,” Miranda says, mockingly, stroking her slowly. She’ll draw this one out, as a lesson. “Under my thumb seems to be exactly the place you’re always so desperate to be.”

“Fuck,” Jack groans, a low hiss of air from between her clenched teeth.

Miranda grins in the dark. She’d been wrong, before. Jack had definitely been the right pick for this mission.

-

enjoy my work? wanna leave a tip?

ko-fi / cashapp

[keenmarvellover]

POSTS FOR YOU - 2

Some links to posts with valuable content you want in one place.(BASICALLY EVERYTHING IS THERE)

Suggestions and Recommendations are appreciated and accepted.

Last Updated : 31/12/2020

NOTE: Some of these post are written in a crude and unruly fashion. But they contain valuable tips, guidance and information. If you can't/don't want to read such posts, then don't read.

Mental Health

SELF-CARE MASTERPOST

Maybe this is what YOU need or 1 mutual of yours needs. So reblog.

Masterlist for Everything

Abuse. Self-harm. Theraphy. Suicide. Self-love. Coping. Chatrooms.

Masterlist for Everything(Part II)

A list of things to make you feel less overwhelmed.

Masterposts for a Bad Day

Check this out. (Part II)

Anxiety Attack vs Panic Attack

Please share and spread this knowledge.

Health

How to use an EpiPen

Please read the whole thread as tips and small bits of info have been added later

Bonjour Jolie - A site to order Period Boxes

It sends you basics like hygiene products, pain medication as well as snacks and pampering stuff to make you feel good with foods tailored to your specific needs

Staying warm during the Cold Wave

Tips to stay warm during the cold weather (sub zero conditions)

An App for people with problems communicating

during an attack or breakdown

How to get rid of Migraines?

How to get rid of tension migraines, normal migraines and sinus migraines

Basic exercises to do after sitting for a Long time

Please share if you feel you and your mutuals sit in front of a screen for long

Sensory- Friendly Clothing Line

Perfect for autistic children and adults

Chest Binder Information

How, Where and When of Chest Binding.

Artists

Drawing Asian Characters/People

Common misconceptions and some tips.

Free Applications to use instead of Adobe Photoshop

Saves a great deal of money for artists whoc can't afford it

Sites to report to if your work gets stolen

Check it out and spread.

How to draw Hands

With diagrams/pics

Basics for Art Students

That were not taught in school

Apps to find Pictures

Apps that do not steal, or show illegal pictures

Writers

How to write a Bilingual Character

When writing a character, write it effectively. Make it realistic and believable.

Useful Art Resources

This is an extensive list of resources for every problem you could come across while writing/planning/editing your novel.

How to end your Story

Types of endings for your stories.

How to write a Muslim Characters

Don't write stereotypes or false information spread by ignorant racist individuals

Virtue Continuum

A good chart for character development, especially when contrasting how they are vs. how they see themselves

A guide to coding and fanwork in AO3

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Valuable Knowledge if you are planning on publishing a book

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Types of knives, blades, daggers and pointy things

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College AU Scenarios

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Some incredible books written by muslim authors that you should definitely check out.(2020 releases included)

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Sites to get Free Course Books

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School Cheat Sheets

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Study Tips from a Psychology Teacher

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Resources Masterlist for STUDENTS

Good Bless the person who made this.

Museums you can visit online

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Sites for learning Ancient Languages

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Alignments Chart Memes

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How to prepare for a Protests effectively

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Accessible Gardening for people with Physical Disabilities

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Clothing Tips and Hacks for Men

Men's fashion.( Collars and Cuffs)

Various Fancy Knots

Something fancy that you can DIY

How to remove A Content Blocker

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Make your own Language

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Some sites for when you’re bored and looking for new music

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Check if a certain movie or TV show has any affiliation with anyone who was accused of sexual assault.

Desis

How to be an ANTI-CASTE Ally if you are an Upper-Caste

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NOT ONLY DESI

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Encrypting Your Internet Surfing

Cybersecurity through firewalls created by Lava Lamps

What to do if you find yourself homeless

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Recognizing Abuse Masterlist

Fire Safety

If you are taken abroad AGAINST YOUR WILL

[kurt-nightcrawler]

Eye love you

Warren Worthington III x Reader

A/N: this isn’t what I wrote cause I was not feeling great yesterday, this is older. I hope you enjoy it anyway! :)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.2k

 “I went to the eye doctor today,” You said into the phone. 

“Oh yeah! How’d it go?” Warren asked from the other line. 

You flopped onto your bed. “I’m getting new glasses…”

“Ooo… What do they look like?— Bobby! Get out of my room! I’m on the phone!” You rolled your eyes. “Sorry,” Warren apologized. 

“It’s fine.” You assured him. “They’re brown.” 

“That’s different, your old ones were black.” 

You shifted to lay on your side, “I don’t really like them… Like, I like them, but not that much. They were the best option I had though…” 

“That’s okay. You wear contacts most of the time anyway.”

“Yeah, but when I don’t…”

Warren frowned. He hated seeing or hearing, you upset. “You’re gonna look amazing. You always look good, no matter what… and besides, nothing can be worse than the glasses you had in fourth grade— they were blue and had flowers and were crooked—“

“Hey!” Warren laughed on the other line. “I should have never shown you my elementary school pictures!” 

“But you were so cute as a kid,” He pouted. You scoffed.

“You’re gonna look like… like…”

“You can’t think of any female celebrities with glasses. Can you?” 

Warren could feel your disappointment through the phone. It made him sad. 

“I didn’t fall in love with you cause you had 20/20 vision. Glasses or no glasses, you’re still gonna be you...” 

You didn’t respond. 

“Do they bring out your eyes at least?” He asked with a slight coquettish tone. 

“They bring out the brown in them…” Your eyes were hazel, but the favored heavily on the green side. 

Warren sighed, “Your eyes are so pretty.” 

“Yours are prettier.” His were green as well, but instead of having brown like yours, there was blue. 

“Not true.” 

“Yeah, it is.”

“Hmm… I don’t think so.” 

You rolled your eyes, smiling for the first time during the call, “I have to go. I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

-

Two weeks went by and your glasses finally came in. As time passed since you picked them out, you grew on the idea of them, but you weren’t in love. 

However, Warren was right, you weren’t going to be wearing them that much. 

A few days had passed since you got your new glasses. You hadn’t left your home all day. You stayed in your pajamas and got caught up on some housework. 

You took a break, checking your phone out of boredom when you got a text. 

 Warren 

hey baby

Warren

can I come over? I’m bored and the guys are busy :(

(Y/N) 

so I’m a second option, huh? *side-eyes emoji* 

Warren

no!! never!! I miss you anyways

(Y/N) 

it’s been two days… we went to the zoo Tuesday 

Warren

a whole 48 hours apart from you? ew *barfing emoji*

(Y/N)

you should just move in then

Warren

you should move in with me. no one pays rent in the mansion

(Y/N)

I’m not a mutant *clown emoji*

Warren

we can figure that out… 

Warren

anyway... 

Warren

I can bring madagascar 1 & 2 and chipotle

(Y/N)

ugh classics *moaning face emoji*

(Y/N)

can you get me a vanilla coke zero? *two pouting bug-eye emojis*

Warren

of course *red heart emoji* 

Warren

I’ll be over in an hour or so

(Y/N)

okay :)

-

Warren had a key to your place, so he let himself in. 

“Hey babe, I’m here! I also got the third movie from Kurt, and I think the penguins’ spin-off show is on Netflix.” 

You had set up the coffee table so you could eat on the couch without making too much of a mess. 

“Oh my god, it smells so good…” You subtly licked your lips. 

“Hello?... No hug for the delivery man?” Warren joked. 

“Big bird brain, come here.” You kissed his cheek and wrapped your arms around his torso. He set his belongings on the ground so he could reciprocate the hug. 

You picked the bag of food and movies up. Warren gasped a little. 

“What? What’s wrong?” You looked at him, extremely worried. 

“Your glasses! You didn’t tell me they came in.”

“Oh, uh… I just kind of forgot about it…” 

Warren kicked his shoes off and made his way over to the couch with you. “I wish you sent me a selfie. They look great!” 

You deflected the compliment. 

“You look like a sexy librarian—“ You gave Warren a sour look. “Okay, no—“

“I look like a girl who’s been in her pajamas all day and brushed her teeth at 2 pm today.” You said as you put the first movie in. 

Warren shrugged while he dug into his bowl, “Hey, I’ve done worse.” 

You chuckled, joining him on the couch. “of course you have. You’re a dude.”

“Hey!” 

“They hated Jesus cause he told the truth.” You stated, nonchalantly as you started eating. 

“Babe.”

You looked over at Warren, sipping on your soda, “Hmm?” 

“They look really nice. You look great.”

“Thanks…”

“How do you like them?” 

“Better than I did two weeks ago…” You sheepishly admitted. 

“That’s a huge improvement!” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

“Hey— I’m gonna prove to you, that you look good in your new glasses. Even if it takes years.”

“Ren, stop it. I was being silly, they’re fine, honestly—“

“No. It upset you. I don’t want you to be insecure about something you can’t control. Something that you need. Babe, you had a panic attack the first time you tried putting in contacts.”

You frowned and stabbed your salad with your fork to try and distract yourself. “I was twelve.” 

“Yeah, but when you told me and just how you didn’t want to be seen as some silly little nerd girl, it made me so sad.”

“I got bullied as a kid. And it wasn’t even the glasses really, I just wanted to fit in and I thought no glasses would help. I didn’t get contacts until high school…” 

“I know… and that’s not fair, you know, trying to hide to fit in with people that really won’t matter in your future…”

You knew he wasn’t just talking about your glasses anymore. He was referencing the scars on his back. The ones he caused as a child, cutting his wings off almost six times a week until his parents caught him and told him to stop. 

“I don’t want you to suffer. That’s all. You’re one of the best people in the world, and I hate seeing you upset.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry…” 

“Don’t apologize. You don’t need to apologize.”

“Sorry—“

Warren kissed your cheek. “It’s okay… Ope.” 

“What?”

He rubbed his finger on your face, “I got some avocado on your cheek. Sorry.” 

“You’re good.” 

Warren smiled. “I love you.” 

He was very casual with it, but somehow managed to never lose any meaning every time he said ‘I love you.’

“I love you too.” 

“Cna I try on your glasses later?”

“No way! You might break them with your big head, plus they’ll make your vision worse over time.” 

“I! I have a big head so I can think about you more!”

You laughed, “War, that didn’t even make any sense…”

“It… wasn’t… supposed too…”

“Mmhmm, alright baby. I’m gonna tell Kurt and Scott you said that next time I see them.”

“Fine, but I have something they don’t.” 

You blinked. “Scott’s dating Jean, and Kurt goes on tinder dates like twice a week…”

“You’re better than Jean.”

“Better not let Jean hear you say that,” You joked. 

“She already knows.” 

“That so?”

“Yep.” 

“Well…” You kissed his cheek, catching him off guard, causing him to blush and get flustered. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah… Of course.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, babe.” 

[thedoctorofsteel]

I posted 7,762 times in 2021

58 posts created (1%)

7704 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 132.8 posts.

I added 226 tags in 2021

#lucifer spoilers - 117 posts

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Longest Tag: 127 characters

#i felt lost suddenly trying to figure out a grade one autistic kid cuz i wasn't sure what i should expect from him as a student

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

I'm blue duboo dee duboo dye

10 notes • Posted 2021-07-03 04:50:25 GMT

#4

Bought shorts in the guys section for the first time today. Not only do they have good sized pockets and fit over my thighs but they're soooo comfortable! And make me feel good about how I look. Kind of gender confirming. Don't get me wrong I'll still wear my cut off jean short shorts but even those were once men's pants. Shopping in the men's section is just overall a better experience.

12 notes • Posted 2021-05-11 20:48:03 GMT

#3

The mask mandate has been lifted in my city. So naturally barely anyone is wearing a mask.

This shouldn't have happened till her immunity! Guys. Guys. My city is only 3% fully immunized. Only 28% have their first dose. We are so far off herd immunity it isn't funny.

Like I'm trying to not have a panic attack cuz covid cases are gonna sky rocket and I wouldn't be surprised if a new strain appears.

I hate this so much.

12 notes • Posted 2021-07-01 20:09:27 GMT

#2

I'm officially coming out as non-binary. Specifically gender fluid!

It's kinda weird to just post that so uh here's how I got here?

One: When I was little I always wanted to be a boy. I hated that I was expected to wear a shirt when the boys around me didn't and we had the same chest cuz I was ya know a kid. So I often just didn't wear a shirt much to my parents' dismay. I always said I wanted to be a cowboy when I grew up. My dad would correct me that I meant cowgirl. I said no. Cowboy.

Two: Growing up and into adulthood it made me happy being called one of the guys. When someone thought I was male it didn't bother me. If anything it made me happy.

Three: I was looking back thinking I wasn't trans because I didn't think I was a boy I just wished I was a boy.

Four: I wrote a personal essay in women's studies. My prof wrote on it 'It seems you don't follow gender binary'

Five: A post on this here tumblr said 'Wanting to be the opposite gender is a symptom of being the opposite gender'

Six: I thought ok. But I also do feel female a lot. Sometimes I hate having boobs but often I love it. I love how they make me feel sexy. So no way I can be a trans man.

Seven: somewhere in the above I had heard of gender fluid. It was at this point I thought maybe I'm both? So in quiet moments I thought to myself. What gender do I feel right now? And sometimes it was my assigned gender. Sometimes it was male. Sometimes I dissociated from gender all together. (Though I've never felt both male and female at the same time)

Eight: I cut my hair into a short androgenous style and suddenly felt really good about my looks. That was kind of the nail in the coffin.

Nine: I told my husband and now I can tell everyone else so here I am.

I use any pronouns because there's no way anyone can know what I'm identifying as at any point in time and I don't expect them to ask me every time they want to use pronouns. That's just dumb. And changing to they/them altogether doesn't feel right. But feel free to use they/them. Basically whatever the heck you want to use is good.

So there's that. Thanks for reading. If anyone has any questions feel free to ask!

19 notes • Posted 2021-05-03 02:47:11 GMT

#1

649 notes • Posted 2021-10-04 20:27:20 GMT

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[thethistlegirl]

Comfortember Day 9 (Confessions)

@nevcolleil Here’s a LONG overdue continuation of the universe I wrote a while back for your prompt about Jack being Mac’s actual biological father! (For those of you who haven’t read it, the first part is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17086982)

Jack sits in the GTO, wrapping his hands around the steering wheel and clenching and unclenching his fingers. Mac's probably still asleep after last night. Unaware that Jack is sitting out here holding onto a secret that's going to shatter his world more completely than even the most complicated bomb the kid's ever defused. Honestly, Jack isn't sure if maybe James was right. They were better off not knowing. Because there's a fifty-fifty chance that Mac will be so angry at Jack for leaving his mom that he'll never want to speak to him again. But now that he knows the truth, he'll be no better than James if he doesn't walk in there and tell Mac. About Ellen, about Kosovo, about everything. He owes his son the truth.

His son. It sounds so strange to even think that. Before he can lose his nerve, he gets out of the car, walks up to the door, and knocks. It takes a few tries, but finally a very sleepy, bed-head Mac wanders up to the door, checking the peephole, thankfully, before opening it. Jack has a sudden attack of emotion, thinking about what it would be like to be greeted by a smaller version of this very picture. Mac already looks like a teenager, and it doesn't take much to imagine him even younger, yawning and blinking at being woken up early. "What are you doing? Family don't knock." And that's what pushes Jack over the edge. He feels the tear trickling down his cheek without really having noticed it forming, and Mac's mussed figure looks blurred and watery, like Jack's looking into some magic mirror that's going to warp and show him the past he could have had. "Jack?" Mac sounds genuinely scared. "Kiddo, let's go out on the deck. I think we gotta sit down." Mac's face comes into sharper focus, worried. "What's wrong? Did you have a doctor's appointment? Are you dying? Like James?" Like James. Jack really is no better than that jerk. He's been railing on the man for leaving a kid behind. When he did the exact same thing. He can't decide if it's better or worse that he didn't know. "No." And that's all he says until they're both sitting down. The damn photograph is still there, sitting on the bench where Jack left it. Jack picks it up slowly. "There's something you don't know about your mom," he says hesitantly. "Wait. What?" Mac sits down. "Was there something in the dossier you got from Matty's that you didn't tell me?" "It wasn't in there, hoss." Jack sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I knew her. Last night, when you showed me this...I recognized her." He hands the picture frame to Mac. "How did you know my mom?" Mac asks, clearly confused. "I thought you said you didn't even come to California before you met me. You called it snob land. Said the only reason you'd even stay was to keep me alive." "James didn't tell you she was an agent." There's a terrible sound of shattering glass as the picture frame falls to the deck, and Jack stares at the shards like they're an oracle telling him what to say next. Because if Mac reacted this strongly to finding out what his mom really did, then telling him the rest is going to half kill him. "She what?" "Ellen Jackson was a black ops agent when I met her. Specialized in retrieval of items that fell into the wrong hands. We crossed paths on an op in Kosovo that went belly-up for us both." Jack sighs. "It was...an intense forty-eight hours. You know how those things are." Mac nods. "I still...I just...she..." And then his face goes white. "Is that..." "She died in a car bombing in Shanghai." Jack doesn't think it's wise to talk around the truth. There's a choked sob from Mac's side of the bench, but Jack can't stop the avalanche of pain now. He needs to get this out or he never will. "Mac, the two of us...after we met...we were involved for a while." He waits for some sort of disgusted reaction, but that's more Riley's department than Mac's. She's always the one with some sort of weird joke. Mac just...breathes. In and out like he's trying to stave off a panic attack. "Mac?" Jack isn't about to be selfish enough to put his need to tell the truth now over Mac's health and safety. "Do you...Are you okay?" He realizes it's a stupid thing to say the moment it leaves his mouth. "I just found out my mom was murdered, because she was an agent, and no one bothered to tell me, do I look FINE?" Mac practically screams. Okay, well, at least Jack getting cozy with his mom isn't the worst problem Mac has with this whole scenario. He turns to Jack, eyes shining with tears and wide like a panicked wild animal. "Did you KNOW?" "I didn't even know who your mom was till I saw that picture last night." He already said that once, but he doesn't expect Mac's grief-addled brain to recall that. Mac nods slowly, then picks up the frame, looking down at the broken glass. "So you remember her? You said you..." He trails off. "Don't think I could forget. And I don't mean that in a creepy way." Jack shrugs. "She was the kindest person I ever met. Even in a job that can make a person a monster." A monster like me. "I just still can't believe it." Mac sighs. "I mean, not you and my mom, but...okay maybe that too. Like, how weird would that have been?" He chuckles weakly. "You were this close to being my dad." "Bud, I am." The words hang in the air like the smoke from one of the campfires on a day when the air pressure settles in and traps the city smog. Mac doesn't move. Jack can't tell if he's even breathing. "Jack, this isn't funny." The words are a harsh monotone when they finally break the stillness. "Even for you. This is too much. Stop joking."

"I'm not. I talked to James this morning. He told me everything."

"That's impossible."

"No. Your mom and I were together in '89..."

"I know how it works. But you can't be my dad. You can't." Mac's shoulders have begun to shake. "That's not how things go."

"I'm so sorry..."

"You're fucking SORRY?" Mac shouts, and there's a thud, he's slammed the picture down on the bench. "Everyone's lied to me my whole life, and you're SORRY?"

Jack doesn't bother to say he didn't know. Mac's got to take his anger and grief out on someone. And better Jack than James or what few memories the kid has of Ellen. James will...Jack doesn't actually know what that man would do. And he doesn't want to taint Mac's few good memories. 

He shuts down, the way he knows all too well how to, while Mac yells and curses and even throws a couple sloppy punches. He can check out and take the hits. But when Mac begins sobbing, crumpling to his knees on the glass-strewn deck, Jack blinks and reaches for him.

Mac doesn't resist, letting himself be pulled into a gentle hug. Jack rocks him back and forth slowly, like he should have done twenty-eight years ago. He can't say it's okay. Or anything else. But he can hold his son while he cries. He can do that much.

[cecebeanie]

Absolutely, but I'm sure you know that sometimes, a creator accidentally includes details like the ones we're talking about here accidentally, because they didn't know about them in the first place, but would have agreed to make them "canon", as you say, if they had known. A famous example is Alice Oseman, who wrote an obviously asexual character before actually knowing what asexuality was, but when that was pointed out realized the character was asexual (and so was she, but that's unrelated to this discourse, I'm not saying anything about the creators). So, what I'm saying is that even if the creator didn't consider Yuuri not being allosexual, they might have developed him like that unintentionally. Since asexuality is still not a well-known topic, it's possible the author will never know about it, but it's a fact that Yuuri IS is very ace-coded.

About the anxiety, I have it too, and I know what a panic attack is, I experience them frequently. I've also studied psychiatry, and I identify the one we witness in the anime as the start of a panic attack. It might not be chronic anxiety maybe (even though I would disagree, as we've been told how Yuuri copes with it), but that's pretty clearly anxiety. So again, maybe it wasn't thought of as that, but the viewers are allowed to recognize patterns in what they're seeing. YOI has been praised repeatedly for its accurate portrayal of anxiety, even if the creator didn't consider it, this is very important.

Also, we're not talking about virginity, we're talking about asexuality.

To be honest, I'm not loving how you say "a 100% pure and innocent asexual virgin with a mental disorder", I'm sure you can see how that can be offensive for an asexual person to hear, the op of the post is clearly not claiming this, nor am I (and I would never talk like this about an asexual person, never.). And if Yuuri was, what would be wrong with that? Despite you apparently using these terms as insults, none of them are.

Anyway, as I said, the point the op is making with this post is that the exploration of the concept of Eros in the anime is not the exploration a person who experiences sexual attraction would do. Because Yuuri literally doesn't know what sexual attraction is. This is not a stretch; this is what the anime says. Yuuri has to resolve to thinking about food to explain to himself the feelings of sexual attraction, that's a very ace thing to do. This is not something someone who knows what that is would do, I'm sorry.

And again, everything you say is valid for an asexual person, because none of that has anything to do with sexual attraction. None of us here is talking about virginity, again. It's not the point of the post, it's not the point of the anime, I don't understand why you keep bringing it up.

If you're interested about it, the op wrote a super interesting post about types of attraction, I have the feeling like you might need to read it.

If you have any doubt that it's only the op and me who see this, look at the reblogs. Look at what the ace people say. We all notice this, because we know this and we recognize it. None of us ever thought about Yuuri being ace or a virgin as a way of diminishing it, and if this is not your intention in using those terms please clarify it, because your response comes off as offensive, to be honest.

On not getting eros

I’ve discussed Yuuri not getting eros multiple times, but I never explained what it actually means because this subject seems to be a sensitive and controversial one either way. Yet, it's also an important one for quite a number of reasons I will come back to later.

And that's why we need to discuss it.

First: What is eros? - a very short trip back in time

YOI explains eros as “sexual love”, matching the Ancient Greek definition as “sensual or passionate love” from which the term “erotic” is derived. Classical philosophers described it as a “madness from the gods” that befalls people at the sight of another person with disastrous results (e.g. the story of Paris and Helena). In YOI, this “madness” equates to “what causes you to lose the ability to make normal decisions”.

(The definition of eros varied a lot over the centuries. Plato defined eros as a general concept of passion that excludes physical attraction and argued that it can be utilised to pursue intellectual interests. Freud insisted that eros is not to be confused with libido, and the Catholic Church’s definition had a huge influence on more modern definitions and not for the better.)

What the ancient Greeks called eros is nowadays known as sexual attraction. Classical philosophers probably didn’t make the distinction towards romantic attraction since the two are often conflated. However, describing eros as a “madness from the gods” points towards a primal instinct that the majority of humans experiences starting from when the body begins to produce sex hormones during puberty.

What this implies for Yuuri

As an adult male of 23, Yuuri is long past puberty. Thus, one would expect him to understand eros on an intuitive level. However, what makes him lose the ability to make normal decisions is not the sight of another human being, not even his celebrity crush parading in front of him like a Greek god—no, it's his favourite food. And there’s only one explanation why that is:

So far, Yuuri has not experienced sexual attraction.

No anxiety disorder, no feelings of inadequacy, no lack of self-esteem, and certainly not an alleged ability to restrain himself can explain this absolute cluelessness about a basic human instinct. It cannot explain why Yuuri is immune to the sight of naked Viktor, i.e. why that doesn't make him want to bent Viktor over the edge of the hot spring and do unspeakable things to him. And this brings us to the critical part of the discussion:

Yuuri is on the asexual spectrum.

Where on that spectrum he could be, I'm going to discuss in a minute.

Yuuri is well aware that at his age the general populace is able to express eros and that by extension, he is excpected to and should be able to express it, too. In his first attempt at tackling eros, he uses his favourite food as a workaround, but if he had no particular food cravings, literally anything he’s passionate about would work, too (it took me ages to figure that out because, personally, I rather roll with Plato than food metaphors). Yuuri keenly feels that katsudon isn’t it, though. He thus changes the protagonist of the story he made up for his SP because he relates to the woman’s situation more than to the playboy, which works fairly well because it reflects his fears about Viktor leaving and his desire to keep Viktor for himself (see also this meta). However, it takes him until episode 6 to find his eros, and this eros is a very possessive and commanding one (see also this this meta). Essentially, episode 6 is about Yuuri learning that he is indeed capable of seducing Viktor with his skating and this ability comes with a certain power that is reflected in his scores. He doesn't magically experience sexual attraction now—what happens here has all the qualities of a kink with dominance/possessiveness, which Viktor seem to like a lot.

That Yuuri is asexual is essential for the plot of Yuri!!! on Ice to work.

Which asexual microlabels are compatible with canon Yuuri?

Aside from a few subtle hints, this is pretty much open to interpretation. The tie-grab in episode 8 and the strong sexual tension in that scene narrows the list down to demisexual, greysexual, or sex-favourable ace.

A demisexual Yuuri would experience sexual attraction once he has formed a close bond with another person or got to know them intimately enough. Before Viktor, Yuuri struggled to form close relationships of any kind; Viktor is the first he wants to form a bond with and whom he lets into his heart. In this context, episode 6 could be interpreted as the very first time Yuuri experiences sexual attraction.

A greysexual Yuuri would be capable of experiencing sexual attraction sometimes and in certain situations, but again, the point when Yuuri perfects eros defines the earliest instant at which he would experience sexual attraction for the first time.

The likeliest interpretation that I found, however, is that Yuuri is a sex-favourable ace. It’s not only the tie-grab in episode 8 that besides its obvious kinkiness oozes a sexual tension that implies that he and Viktor did it (and liked it), but also the lyrics of Stammi Vicino describing viktuuri on a meta level:

Le tue mani, le tue gambe, le mie mani, le mie gambe, i battiti del cuore si fondono tra loro. Your hands, your legs, my hands, my legs and the heartbeats are fusing together.

This line expresses a unification on a physical and on a mental level. It implies a strong physical intimacy that can't be explained by Yuuri and Viktor being together and skating together in the gala alone.

The differences between these microlabels are hidden in the nuances, the rest is up to personal preference/experience. If you want your Yuuri to be canon-compliant, you can't go wrong with either flavour of aceness, including those I didn't discuss because they seem less likely to me. If you came to the conclusion that a sex-repulsed kinky Yuuri would work just as well, my answer to you would be that canon Viktor would be happy with everything his Yuuri is willing to give. If there's a fictional couple who would make a relationship in which one partner in sex-repulsed and the other is allosexual work, it would be viktuuri.

Next some questions I wish someone had explained to me in this context:

Q&A: But why does Yuuri...?

dry-hump Viktor at the Sochi banquet: If the amount of clothes Yuuri wears gives away the timeline of the event, he danced with Viktor before he went off to the pole with Chris. Some of this dancing was quite physically and that can be totally enough to make a sensitive person horny (and Yuuri is very sensitive to touch). Add an unholy amount of alcohol to this and you have Yuuri rubbing his genitals at his idol. (note that libido ≠ sexual attraction)

say that Viktor could impregnate everyone, including him: Being asexual doesn’t deprive you of the ability to identify sexiness in other people and understanding the meaning of “hot”. Viktor demonstrating Eros right in front of Yuuri would instantly put Yuuri into a massive swoon, and while it wouldn't make him horny and want to fuck Viktor, he would be be swept away because of how cool and amazing Viktor is.

hastily turns away when Viktor stretches in front of him in the bath: Well, that's an obvious reaction of discomfort. Not everyone would be happy to stare right at someone else's dick (unless you love dicks, obviously).

On a side note, I find it quite ironic that Morooka calls Yuuri “Japan’s ace skater” in the Blu-ray subs, but aside from the fact that things one character says about another should always be taken with a grain of salt, deriving a character’s sexuality from such wording is as far-fetched as deriving it from colour schemes or characters blushing at one another (and in YOI, they blush like all. the. time.). I have no idea if the YOI creators intended an asexual reading of Yuuri. However, the result is an unambiguously ace-coded Yuuri that is needed for the story of Yuri!!! on Ice to work.

Why this discussion is overdue

Good ace representation: Although it's not officially confirmed, Yuuri is a realistic representation of a queer label that is often overlooked and underrepresented in media.

Educational purposes: There are many harmful misconceptopns surrounding asexuality, and while this post doesn't aim at dispelling them, I hope it will make a little difference.

Spreading awareness: Because there is so little awareness about what it means to be asexual—even inside the queer community—the ace-coding is only obvious for people who have educated themselves on the subject. Unfortunately, this makes Yuuri being prone to mischaracterisation.

Helping people figure themselves out: Asexuality is a concept that is very hard to make sense of when you don't even know that you experience things differently. I've seen posts discussing ace-coded characters and they only confused the hell out of me. I hope that this post will be helpful to other people being unaware of or questioning their aceness.

Last but not least: Not being sexually attracted to people doesn't impact or contradict Yuuri's romantic orientation. I will discuss Yuuri's "top-secret" love life in my next meta.

For further reading about Yuuri and his endeavours to tackle eros, please check out these metas:

How skating to eros despite not getting it showcases Yuuri's extreme bravery (episode 3) [X]:

Yuuri finally finding the definition of eros that works for him (episode 6) [X]

The development of On Love: Eros throughout the series, including the a discussion of the workarounds Yuuri uses: [X]

My special thanks goes to cecebeanie for our countless discussions on the subject and patiently answering even my stupidest questions, for proofreading, and for encouraging me to write this post in the first place 💜💙

If you like my metas, please check out my works on AO3.

[animensfw-smut]

What if reader-Chan’s quirk was like the op-op devil fruit power from one piece, The character has a bullet in their heart. Reader-Chan uses their ability to give the character their heart so they don’t die. Reader dies and all they left behind was their heart 🥺 (any character is fine, sorry if it’s a bad idea)

No, no it's not a bad idea 😊 The character I chose for you will be Todoroki as I feel like I've not really wrote for him in a long time. However, I am going to change the plot as I want it to have a happy ending. So... It is gonna change most of the plot so I hope you don't mind!

Reader’s quirk: Similar to Op-op devil fruit power. (I don’t really know how it works so i’m just going off Wikifandom...)

Also, this is gonna be preeeettttyyyyy short...

WARNINGS: None.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*(y/n)’s pov*

No... No... How did this all happen?! Why?!

“SHOTO!!!”

My eyes were wide with terror as i ran. No, I’m too late... I won’t make it!

-------------------------

The day started with me and Shoto being tasked together to chase after the thief. I was super happy considering it’s been a long time since me and Shoto were able to work together since we always worked alone.

“Shoto~” I wrapped my arms around him,

“Hm?”

“We finally get to work together!” A small smile teased at the corners of his lips,

“We live in the same house (y/n), so you get to see me anyway.” I pouted,

“Yeah, but it’s different!!!” He chuckled, his finger rubbing my bottom lip,

“Cute.” Shoto swooped down to take me into a quick kiss before letting go and stepping away,

“Alright, let’s get to work then?” I nodded eagerly.

We patrolled the area where there were signs of the thief. For over an hour, there were no signs of the thief and we decided to go into a restaurant for a break. 

“Welcome. Is it a table for two?” Asked the waiter. We nodded and the waiter directed us to the seats next to the window.

“This restaurant sure is calming, hm?”

“Mm.” For the rest of the meal we were silent, but it didn’t matter. We enjoyed each other’s company and that was enough.

“Say Shoto... What if one of us--”

“Ahhhhh!!!” Screams sounded from the streets outside and i immediately turned my head to the window. A masked person had emerged from the bank across, shooting at everything that came into sight with his quirk. The civilians ran at the sight, screaming for help. My brows furrowed,

“Shoto, let’s go!” We ran out of the store and after the thief who made their way into a white van. 

Holding out his arm, Shoto slowly froze the van starting from the wheels. The villains quickly knew what was going on and jumped out of the car before they were frozen too.

“You damn bastard!” There were two people who rushed towards us, the main thief shooting at us from the distance. I was matched with the thief who had driven the van. 

He flew towards me with his hand outstretched, a needle in between his fingers... But... My eyes had missed that single needle. I grabbed his hand, flipping him over my shoulder and felt a small prick on my arm. Huh...? I looked to see that nothing had appeared on my arm, no scratches or anything. Must be my imagination.

The male continued to rush towards me and i tried to use my quirk. Tried. 

“Wh-What...?!” I had wanted to create a room to manipulate the male but to no avail. Panic surged through my whole body and the thief used that opportunity to catch me off-guard. 

“Oi (y/n)!” Shoto sent fire towards the thief just before he had attacked me. I stopped panicking, the male knocked out cold.

“Thanks Sho--”

------------------------

That was where i left off. The villain had used his quirk and shot Shoto on the chest.Before the shot had hit him, he used his ice to trap the whole of the villain’s body. Shoto was about to hit the floor but i caught him in time.

“No! No! No! This is my fault! I was careless and then now you’re... Y-You’re...” My vision was starting to turn blurry, and the tears started to course down my cheeks and onto his face.

“N-No... I c-can’t even use my quirk...” I sobbed into his chest. I closed my eyes, holding him close to me.

W-Wait... I stopped my sobbing, listening closely to his heartbeat. My eyes widened at the steady beating. Something patted my head before smoothing my hair down,

“Hey, don’t cry... I’m not dead yet... But i will be if you hug me any tighter.”

“B-But you...”

“You’re not going to get rid of me that easily. I used a small ice shield to shield where he was going to shoot me.” I wailed,

“Waaahhhhh! You really scared the hell out of me!!!” His arms wrapped around my waist,

“I’m sorry.” Shoto lifted my chin up, a genuine smile on his face, his eyes softened.

“I’m sorry for making you worried, so don’t cry, okay?” He wiped the tears away from my cheeks, giving me a sweet kiss.

We stayed sat on the ground, embracing each other. 

“So... We’re going to have to turn both of them in right?” Shoto nodded,

“Let’s go. I’ll make it up to you tonight. Deal?”

“Mm, deal.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N

I hope this was satisfactory! I didn’t include much about the quirk as i had no idea how it really worked. Thanks for reading! ^^

[misedejem]

I wrote 75 headcanons about Kannao

25 for Kanji, 25 for Naoto, 25 for them as a couple

Why?

Why not.

 Kanji Tatsumi

1.     He does actually need glasses, but he was hesitant to ask for contacts, so he spent most of P4 struggling to see until Naoto brought up that he looked like he was having a hard time. He wore contacts for a bit, but eventually he just stuck to glasses.

2.     The scar on his head was a source of speculation for the other members of the Investigation Team for years, because he never cared to explain, resulting in some very wacky theories. Eventually they found out it was just from a fight with a gang member, but considering he got it when he was twelve, the story is still pretty interesting.

3.     He hates mentioning medical stuff to anybody, but he’s prone to fainting spells out of nowhere. Thankfully, it never happened in the TV, which several members of the IT very angrily said to him when he blacked out in front of them one day.

4.     He’s the spitting image of his father, only with shorter hair. He could never let it grow out for that reason.

5.     He’s the only one from the Investigation Team B to go to college. He studies textiles and trains to become a teacher in Tokyo. He ends up being an art teacher at a middle school.

6.     He’s actually pretty good at literature and humanities subjects, though he struggles applying those skills in a school setting until a teacher who hasn’t given up on him yet helps him through them.

7.     Rise forced him to take dance classes the minute he moved to the city because he was ‘super good at it dammit’. Ditto the drums. He can sing too, but she’s not allowed to know that.

8.     He actually just tends to go along with Rise’s plans a lot, partially because he knows her well enough to know stopping her is futile, and also because she understands his tastes very well once she learns what they are

9.     He doesn’t dislike the way he used to dress in high school, but it wasn’t quite him. It needed more cuteness, and softer colours, which is how he started to dress once he graduated high school.

10.  The black hair and glasses stay forever, but when he’s sewing, he still wears his hair pushed back. Yukiko gave him a hairband for it when she noticed him growing slowly more irritated with it getting in his eyes.

11.  As well as his nose and ears, he also gets an eyebrow piercing in college.

12.  He manages to make a small group of friends in college, with his course being the perfect way for him to find likeminded individuals who applaud his skills rather than shunning them

13.  Kanji is the best cook in the Investigation Team. His baking skills, especially, are exemplary.

14.  He has an online, worldwide store where he sells his plushies and the occasional drawing and outfit. He’s semi-fluent in English by the time he graduates college, so when Naoto travels abroad sometimes he goes too and hits up the conventions.

15.  Ann is his go-to model once they meet. He helps her with outfits for a college final once and they work together so well that she sticks with him.

16.  The reason Koromaru dislikes him is that he can tell he’s kinda rough with physical affection. He doesn’t realise it for the longest time because nobody points it out. He is really good with animals otherwise though, and he’s also really good with kids.

17.  He’s a back-up fighter for the Shadow Ops should they need him, by virtue of being married to their resident detective.

18.  The main reason he keeps training his body though is actually because Chie is determined to beat him at arm wrestling one day, and he’s too proud to let anyone win without a fight.

19.  When Naoto’s cat, Mochi, had kittens, he got to name the one they kept. His name is Pocky. He has a little leather jacket that Kanji painstakingly crafted one night when he couldn’t sleep.

20.  He needs a lot of alcohol to get drunk (which makes nights out with the IT interesting for him, given that the others are all serious lightweights)

21.  If you give him a life sim, especially that one with the cute animals, you will not see him again for days at a time. He’s not huge on video games, but life sims will take over his life

22.  Even if he does retreat into a cave to build a pristine village though, he will still probably emerge with a smooth face because he doesn’t grow facial hair very easily. He can, but it takes a while.

23.  He can’t sleep as easily unless he’s holding something soft.

24.  The easiest time to get him to speak his mind about certain things is when he’s sick and more vulnerable, which doesn’t happen very often. For example, the IT had no idea their jokes at his expense bothered him until he confessed it while extremely out of it on cold medication one time. He doesn’t remember saying it either, but he did notice they were more sincere with him after that.

25.  Everybody in the Investigation Team ends up facing their Shadow again in their adulthood, but by the time Shadow Kanji returns, Kanji has become so accepting of the self the Shadow had represented in the past that he takes on a completely different form. Naoto is the only other person with this same experience.

Naoto Shirogane:

1.     By the time they stop growing, Naoto is nearly 5’1” and they absolutely make it a point to let their friends know

2.     They don’t really know how to look after their hair at all, hence the cap and general messiness. They tend to forget about it until it becomes too long and gets all tangled.

3.     They’re very accident prone, and are covered in a lot of scars from their childhood. The worst one though is one on their back from that time Sho stabbed them at Junes.

4.     One of said scars came from their neighbours’ huge dog biting them when they were five. To this day, they’re still absolutely terrified of big dogs.

5.     They’ve experienced panic attacks for most of their life, though they occur less frequently as an adult.

6.     They resemble their mother more than their father, but the height comes from the Shirogane side. Grampa Shirogane was quite small as well.

7.     They are the only member of the Investigation Team who can tolerate Rise’s cooking. The others suspect potential spice immunity.

8.     As well as piano and ballroom dance, they were also trained in a choir as a child, but fell out of favour with it in their teens. The Velvet Siblings hold a final Theatre Showdown with their guests in 2019, and this is when Naoto fully rediscovers their musical side again.

9.     If you ask Naoto how much those specially tailor-made clothes cost, they will mumble and then change the subject

10.  Naoto returns to Yasogami as a full-time student in third year after Mitsuru enrols Labrys in the school out of nowhere, intent on investigating her motives.

11.  They hold the school’s record for highest graded paper for decades. It was on Sherlock Holmes.

12.  Naoto has written a lot of Sherlock Holmes fanfiction as a kid. The others are aware this exists, but are not allowed to read it.

13.  They don’t attend college after graduation, but don’t have much time to figure out what they will do. The mental shutdown incidents begin the same year, and Naoto decided to help the Shadow Operatives with it as much as possible.

14.  Naoto hates the title ‘detective prince’, and actively tries to shed it. Akechi was a godsend in that light.

15.  They actually hate the media’s attention in general but figured that they may as well use the platform they have for a good cause. They want to be the kind of person they needed to see on TV as a kid, but they very vocally opposed the ‘detective prince’ crap until it ended – which it did quite abruptly when the truth about Akechi came out.

16.  Much of what Goro Akechi likes, he got from Naoto’s indirect influence, from the way he dresses to knowledge of that jazz club in Kichijoji. They’re more of a regular there than he is.

17.  Rise set them up on social media, but they don’t really get how to use it. Their fans discovered it though, so they still have a fair number of followers.

18.  Naoto has a slight friendly rivalry with the people who run a local escape room place. Their goal as a company is to one day leave Naoto stumped.

19.  Naoto doesn’t actually like coffee. Too bitter. Tea is their go-to.

20.  They got a standard-size motorcycle at eighteen but doesn’t drive a car. Yakushiji and Kanji refuse to let them behind the wheel.

21.  After becoming comfortable with their childish side once again, they became openly enamoured once more with Neo Featherman, and have a lot of very expensive figures on display in their house. They even cosplayed at a convention once with some of Kanji’s college friends (though it was difficult to convince them to do it)

22.  Yosuke was paid back all the money the IT owed him shortly after Naoto joined the team and discovered they were mooching from him. Yosuke doesn’t know for certain where it came from.

23.  They adopted a kitten they named Mochi in 2017, who they found abandoned outside a supermarket (in an old box that had contained a shipment of mochi, hence the name). She’s an orange tabby, and she became something of a comfort animal when Naoto was at their lowest.

24.  Their grandfather died from an illness in early February 2017. They didn’t handle his loss well, and they ended up falling into a depression that they never really came out of, though they weren’t able to admit that they weren’t okay. It was an encounter with their Shadow that eventually led to them seeking help.

25.  While they’re still a Private Detective in theory, most of the work they do following the events of P5 are Shadow-related. The Shirogane Agency became one of the Shadow Operatives’ closest allies. Makoto Niijima is currently doing an internship there (they met after the Phantom Thieves helped the SOs deal with another incident in Tokyo in 2018)

Kannao

1.     Naoto ‘came down with a fever’ around the time of the Love Meets Bonds festival that had absolutely nothing to do with their friend Kanji suddenly seeming way cooler than before.

2.     The ‘fever’ got worse when they started having classes together in school, and Naoto agreed to help Kanji with his college entrance exams.

3.     At this point Kanji had kinda accepted his feelings existed, but were unrequited, and that he didn’t want that to interfere with their friendship. Naoto was one of the only people who really got him, and he didn’t want to lose them so soon after building a rapport with them. Little did he know.

4.     Naoto was the first one to eventually confess, once Rise, Yu, Grampa, Nanako, several books and google searches, and a random stall vendor at the summer festival in their hometown had convinced them that the weird feeling in their chest wasn’t actually an illness. They did it in the summer of 2013, at said festival.

5.     They were also the first one to say they were in love. The realisation hit them one day as they were watching Kanji play a cute life-simulator game in his college dorm.

6.     While they’re no longer awkward around each other all the time, there are ways they can still make the other very flustered. For example, with Naoto, it’s any time Kanji is wearing a suit.

7.     They got married at Christmas in 2019. Kanji had a proposal planned. Naoto misread the vibe and proposed early and spontaneously on the day he had planned to, though he still got to go ahead with his as well.

8.     Kanji doesn’t really like PDA. They get a lot of people staring at them anyway because of how they look, or because Naoto is recognisable from the TV, and he doesn’t want to make the stares worse. In private though, he’s the more affectionate one.

9.     Naoto accidentally fuelled the rumours that ‘Kanji Tatsumi is in a biker gang’ again when they first started dating by parking their motorcycle outside the textile shop. Ma Tatsumi was quick to tell anybody who questioned it that it belonged to her son’s significant other long before she was supposed to know they were dating

10.  Kanji keeps forgetting to specify which number in his phone is for Naoto’s personal phone and which is for work, which has lead to such wonderful anecdotes as ‘I accidentally hired a private investigator to fix my broken car’

11.  They’re both used to the other bolting upright in bed at 3am because they’ve had an idea for a new pair of socks for the cat, or another hypothesis for a case. Naoto also wakes up quite a bit due to nightmares.

12.  They lived together with the rest of the Investigation Team since 2016, but they don’t get an apartment as just the two of them until the year they get married. It doesn’t take long before there is an entire room in that apartment filled from floor to ceiling with toys.

13.  Kanji is much tidier and more organised than Naoto, even though Naoto isn’t bad, so he’s the one who figures out where things should go. Decorating the house is his favourite thing

14.  They are the unparalleled board-game kings. Somehow, they’re an unstoppable force of nature when paired together for them.

15.  Surprising everyone, Naoto is the more likely of the two to use pet names. They are the only person who won’t be threatened if they call him ‘Kan-chan’.

16.  Before it became common knowledge amongst Naoto’s fanclub that Kanji was their boyfriend, they thought he was their bodyguard. (The Risette fandom had the same idea)

17.  Kanji never helped that rumour die, considering that when the media tries to shove cameras into Naoto’s face, he yells obscenities and gets in the way until the footage is unusable.

18.  They have a daughter in 2025, when Naoto is 30 and Kanji is 29. She’s named Chihiro, mostly because it’s like a phonetic portmanteau of Kanji’s father’s name (Koichi Tatsumi) and Naoto’s grandfather’s (Yasuhiro Shirogane). But also, that was the name of the actor who played Naoto’s favourite version of Feather Swan. Naoto isn’t creative enough to come up with a portmanteau.

19.  They are each 80% of the other’s impulse control

20.  Naoto couldn’t care less that Kanji isn’t the brightest, despite common misconception. The Shirogane family, and the people who work for it, always placed emphasis on a person’s intelligence (hence Yu’s requirement for a lot of knowledge to start the Fortune link) but Naoto is strongly opposed to that mindset. To them, it’s freeing to have somebody around who doesn’t want to be an intellectual 95% of the time.

21.  They are very private when it comes to their relationship, to the point that sometimes even friends or colleagues have no idea what’s going on in their lives until it’s let slip somehow. When Junpei and Yukari – the Shadow Ops Naoto worked with the least - found out they were expecting, it first had to be explained to them that they’d been married for five years.

22.  They sometimes get mistaken for father and son at restaurants until their early thirties, to which point Naoto will make a scene of ordering a lot of alcohol to prove they’re old enough. Naoto can’t really handle booze.

23.  They’re really bad at making face to face announcements about anything big to their friends, so they always find some way to do it elaborately instead. They told the IT they were having a kid, for example, through a series of puzzles put together by Naoto

24.  Kanji loves making couples costumes and outfits, but then gets too embarrassed to wear them

25.  Naoto is a fiend for stealing Kanji’s clothes as pyjamas. They are large and warm, and when they’re travelling for work, they remind them of him. It got to the point where Kanji would pack a shirt of his secretly in Naoto’s suitcase, knowing that’s why his clothes always went missing.