#i’m quite frankly just happy to see him exist again

[cynicalmusings]

he occasionally flirts and proud of it.

his way of flirt is so smooth that we don't even have the time to react.

why does he look so glowing in the event? is it the impact of not seeing him for more than a year?

(still heizou)

he is one of the smoothest flirts known to mankind, yeah. you’re just having a conversation and then he says… something, which completely stuns you and sends you reeling, either in its shamelessness or genuineness, and he carries on as if it’s nothing while you’re left questioning whether you imagined it or not.

and it’s worth remembering that just because he flirts and compliments a lot doesn’t mean those comments lose any value over time. it might look like he’s simply being a sweet-talker for his lover, but everything he says, he absolutely believes to be true; he’s not one to flatter somebody for the sake of flattery. and so the reason he flirts and compliments as much as he does is simply because he sees that much goodness in his lover, and archons be damned if they don’t know how much he admires them.

and that last note about the event… literally. 100%. could not agree more. he’s, like… actually beautiful? stunning? gorgeous? i look at him admittedly quite a lot when playing genshin, so there hasn’t been an absence of seeing him in-game on my part, but you’re absolutely right about him somehow being so radiant in the event. like. he’s actually so pretty. how. why. and more importantly, why has it been almost a year and a half since we experienced this radiance, hoyoverse?

[neteyamssock]

🧸ྀི 𝓲 𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾

ྀི 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚: neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

ྀི 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: neteyam wants to know why you dislike him so much.

ྀི 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: 2k

ྀི 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦: misunderstanding, sfw, miscommunication, etc.

➻ a/n: wrote this while eating breakfast and its unedited. i hate it lmao.

text divider credits to @/cafekitsune

MASTERLIST

“She's so loud, does she think everyone is deaf?”

Neteyam watches you kick Ao’nung as you whine about your stolen prey, going as far as throwing stones into his direction. Frankly speaking, Neteyam finds you extremely immature and childish, even more so than Tuk.

Lo’ak snickered on his side, tossing a piece of shattered shell in the water and watched it disappear. “You’re the only one that kept complaining about her, bro. People here don't seem to mind.”

Neteyam sneered, picking up a shell beside and observing it as he spoke. “I’m sure they're just putting up with her because they cannot get rid of her.”

Lo’ak looked at his brother with amusement. Neteyam’s one sided beef with you is something none of the family expected, but he finds it interesting to see how his brother crumbles into self doubt when someone finally doesn't look at him like a god. “you’re just saying that because she doesn't like you like everybody else. you’re not used to being disregarded.”

He said it in a joking tone, but it only fanned the flames inside Neteyam. That is in fact one of the reasons why he came to dislike you very much aside from the fact that you're polar opposites. It was because right from the start, you never once showed any cordiality with him.

When the Sullys came into awa’atlu, as Tsireya and Ao’nung’s paternal cousin, you also tagged along in helping them learn the way of the water. At first, Neteyam finds you extremely interesting, like a breath of fresh air, but as time goes by and your treatment of him never changes, he also begins to resent you for it.

He’s not used to it. Just like Lo’ak said. All his life, he had done everything to please his family and the Omatikaya People, and even when they came to Awa’atlu, he had done his best in making everyone like him.

You're just one tough rock that he cannot crack no matter what he does. Smiles don't cut it. Fishes don't do it either. Pretty shells collected are a lot more mediocre than yours. He totally cannot figure you out. You seem to dislike him very much, going as far as pretending he doesn't exist. He was unprepared for it, a total disregard from someone he wanted to be close to from the very start.

“If I were you bro? I would talk to her about it and clear shit up rather than sulking everyday.” Lo’ak patted Neteyam’s shoulder as he stood up, ready to meet Tsireya half way as she walked back to the shore.

“what is there to talk about anyway?” Neteyam grumbled to himself, flicking the shells away in annoyance. Lo’ak just shrugged and walked away, totally enjoying seeing his perfect brother in dilemma.

The oldest sully once again looked at you as you play with Tuk and Kiri, seeing how happy you were with his sisters. Deep inside, he also knew why everyone loves you. Despite your loud mouth, you are always sincere. You always mean what you speak, and people appreciate your honesty and straightforwardness, well except for neteyam.

your questionable behavior directed towards him is getting on his nerves. he's at the end of his patience with you, but his self control is holding him back from erupting and asking what the hell is wrong with you.

days passed and the day for the bonfire communal feast arrived. neteyam had heard from his siblings that you and Tsireya are to dance and sing to eywa in celebration for the excellent results of the hunt done yesterday.

neteyam had never heard you sing, nor seen you dance. he never thought you could do those things, but based on his siblings' words, you're quite good and proficient. Tuk says your voice reminds her of eywa's gentle guidance, and your body as the ocean waves.

it's just another reminder that he never really knew you, that you built a wall around you to solely keep him out. that you could be free in front of his siblings but would be hard as a rock in front of him. how can you be so cruel?

"there's never gonna be any progress if you just sulk and sulk and sulk everyday. you have to understand that not everyone is obligated to like you."

neteyam glanced at his sister, bitterness in his tongue. "yea, real helpful sister."

"whatever," kiri rolled her eyes and focused on the kava in her hand, paying no attention to the distraught neteyam beside her.

when the tempo of the music changed and the people parted to reveal you and tsireya in the middle, neteyam felt his breath stolen away by your beauty. you are stunning, that he knew from the very start. he never expected to see you even more beautiful. you make him go crazy inside and he didn't even know why. no matter how you ignore him, he cannot do the same to you. you're always clouding his mind, making him sleepless every eclipse.

neteyam knew that he's being obvious by not taking his eyes off you the entire performance, he knew that his mother are looking at him every time his breath hitch like he couldn't breath, he knew that kiri is laughing at him, but he just cannot stop looking at you.

so when the time to dance with other members of the clan came, he didn't hesitate to stand up and walk towards you in hopes that he'd catch you and ask you for at least one dance.

"can i ask for a dance?" he asked, breathless and hopeful as he looked towards you.

he saw you hesitate, and his newfound confidence shattered. his lips trembled until you took his hand and murmured. "...just once."

Tsireya looked at Neteyam’s yearning look directed at you and giggled to herself. Lo’ak also saw his face and snickered. “he totally has a crush on her! he’s just mad she doesn't pay attention to him.”

The younger metkayina girl’s eyes widened. Then, she quickly accepted it. It's not like she hadn't noticed that tension between you and Neteyam. She thought both of you will figure it out yourselves that's why she didn't interfere at all, but turns out both of you are dense enough that you're still not confronting each other about what you feel.

She looked at you and decided to finally help you out. Turning to her beloved, she said. “Sister does not dislike Neteyam. She's just like that to everyone she likes.”

It was Lo’ak’s turn to be wide-eyed. “No shit? Really?! I mean she never gave him a good look y'know? Totally acting like he doesn't exist…”

Tsireya pulled Lo’ak to sit with her in the sand. “Sister does not know how to deal with her feelings properly. When we were children, she once liked a boy from another clan that visited awa’atlu. He played with us all the time and really liked sister. But since she didn't know what to do, she accidentally made him cry before he and his family were about to leave. When the eclipse came, she cried so hard that it became everyone's favorite story to talk about during communal feasts.”

Lo’ak laughed but then slowly turned melancholic. Somehow, he relates to you. Often misunderstood because you cannot express yourself correctly, and it drives you to keep your thoughts on your own even more. “That’s sad… my brother… My brother is not really the one to pursue feelings. Back in the forest most of the girls our age liked him, some he was interested in, but really didn't bother doing something for it. He’s too busy taking care of us and training to be a good warrior. I don't know if he and your sister can even work it out at this point,”

Tsireya hummed, looking at you and to Neteyam every few seconds, before an idea formed in her mind. “I know exactly what to do!”

Lo’ak looked at his beloved’s bright face and can only pray for his brother’s well-being.

sitting down after dancing with neteyam, you friend immediately sat beside you with a grin. "how does it feel to dance with your beloved?"

you rolled your eyes despite the racing of your heart. you cannot admit that you almost sang in joy when neteyam asked for a dance. you didn't even know what happened during the dance as you just gone blank. he might have thought you were uninterested as he left right after the first dance finished. although you felt at loss, you acted like nothing and continued dancing with others.

seeing you like this, your friend teased you even further. “why don't you just go and proclaim your intentions, hmm? that you want to mate with ne—”

you covered your friend's mouth, scared that someone might hear. "be quiet will you! what if someone hear?"

your friend shrugged, "then you'd probably be forced to confront your feelings and then there would be celebration for your uni---"

"impossible," you cut her off. "we are never possible right from the very beginning. he's from the forest, i'm from the ocean."

"so what? you are both na'vi and obviously liked each other."

you sneered. like you? impossible. why would someone as perfect as neteyam like you?

he's the most perfect na'vi you have ever seen. a skilled warrior, with kind and loyal heart, and would do everything for his beloved family. he's the son of Toruk Makto, admired and well-liked. you? you're just a daughter of a warrior, a niece to the olo-eyktan of the metkayina. you have no real status, no great skills like neteyam.

you do not deserve him. "eywa knows that's not true, sister. eywa knows."

Walking into the lush greeneries of the island, you wonder where your friends are. Tsireya said she wanted everyone to gather in your secret place and play the demon’s game Truth or Dare. Although you detest sky demons, it didn't diminish your curiosity for their creations.

So against your better judgment, you still came when the eclipse started. Thankfully, you know your way in quite well and didn't get lost in your trek to the heart of the island.

As you went further, you began to notice the lack of noise your friends usually make. Lo’ak should be laughing boisterously by now, Tuk screaming, and Kiri wandering around. But no matter how you strain your ears, you don't hear any familiar noises.

So when you reached the hut where you and your friends planned to stay, you were shocked to see only Neteyam inside, seemingly waiting for everyone to show up.

Your feet froze and you cannot stop your heart from racing, hammering against your chest making you gasp for breath. Your heavy breathing was quickly noticed by Neteyam who was also surprised to see you.

The gears in your head turned and you already knew what your friends were doing. It must be Tsireya, who always can see through you and your thoughts. She must���ve conspired with everyone to deceive you and Neteyam.

Without thinking things through, you turned around and walked back to where you came from, but before you could even take a few steps, a hand forcefully held you back.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going home.”

“But shouldn't we wait for the others?”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled your arm out of his grip. “Don’t you understand? They set us up for their own amusement. Now, if you can please let me go. I can't be alone with you right now. I swear to Eywa I will feed that girl to an akula—”

“Why can’t you be alone with me? Do you hate me that much?!”

“What’s your problem?!” You glared at him when he pulled you again, his fingers digging into your shoulder.

“No, what is YOUR problem?!” He looked at you sharply, trying to mask the hurt he felt inside when he heard your words. He had always known you don't like him, but to hear you imply yourself definitely hurts the most. Shaking his head, he continued. “Y’know what? Perhaps this is the time we finally talk. So tell me now, ocean girl! What the hell is your problem with me!”

You let out an unbelievable huff, feeling ridiculous as you shouted back. “Me?! It’s you always shooting daggers at me every time we meet! Why is that my fault?!”

“Because you treat me like shit!”

Both you and Neteyam froze with his outburst. He looked rather regretful for allowing himself to be vulnerable, especially in front of you. His self control is crumbling away.

“I do not treat you like shit! Don’t make things up!”

“Oh yeah, right! Maybe you don't treat me like shit because you treat me like I don’t exist! Don’t act like you don't ignore me all the time, as if it's a great burden for you to even pay me any attention. I’m tired of your shit! So tell me, what is your problem, ocean girl, so we can finally end this farce!”

With mouth agape, you stared wide-eyed at Neteyam. You have never seen him this angry before. Most of the time he’s mellow and polite, always greeting you every time you hang out with his siblings. It's only recently that he had somehow changed, always glaring at you, shooting daggers at you every time you passed by.

You tried to explain but you cannot find the right words. Looking at you like this, it only solidified Neteyam’s belief. The hurt in his eyes was palpable, so he looked away. He can't let you see him so affected by you. His pride is the only thing he can cling to right now, as you have stripped away everything from him.

“What? Couldn't speak? Did I hit the mark, ocean girl?

You gasp, chest heaving so fast as your heart rammed against your ribs. You cannot look into his eyes, too afraid to let him see the feelings you are trying so hard to avoid. “...I-I don’t dislike you, I-I—”

“Liar! You can't even look me in the eye! Tell me the truth!”

“I-I don't want to!”

“Well guess what, you cannot leave this island without telling the truth. Tell me, and I’ll let you go.” His tone has mellowed, a hint of begging in his voice. His grip on your shoulder was tight, it was hurting you but you cannot ignore the voice in your head that urges you to just tell everything and end this ridiculous argument.

“tell me, how can make you like me?"

your heart skipped a beat, processing his words. like him? you already like him so much that it hurts. how can he ask you that?

seeing you silenced, Neteyam’s chest constricted. His eyes stung, but he tried so hard to never let you notice. He cannot crumble in front of you. He doesn't want you to have the satisfaction. He wanted to hear you say that you hate him. That you detest him. That you cannot stand the thought of being with him. So it would destroy him silently, and he can finally rebuild himself piece by piece.

“Tell me!”

“I hate you because I love you!”

“Bull—”

Neteyam paused, eyes wide as he looked at you in disbelief. Your tears finally fell like waterfall as your knees gave away and you sobbed into the ground. You finally said it. The reason why you cannot sleep at night. The reason you tried so hard to avoid Neteyam in fear that he’ll see through you, that he’d be disgusted with your feelings with him. You tried to mask your love as dislike to protect your heart, because you know if you give in you’d just be shattered. You know well how this would end. He would never be yours.

“I-I hate you so much, Neteyam! For making me feel this w-way! I hate you for changing my life and making me c-confused! I hate you for making me fall for you!”

“W-What—”

You stood up without waiting for his reply. With all your strength, you ran away from Neteyam. You didn't care if your feet were hurting, and when you bumped into someone you didn't look at who it was. All you wanted was to leave this place and never see Neteyam again.

Lo’ak looked at your disappearing back and patted his brother's shoulder. Neteyam was still standing like a statue, in shock, staring at the direction you had escaped to.

“Cat’s finally out of the bag, huh. Took you guys long enough. Congrats bro, you finally confessed to your cru—”

Before Lo’ak could even finish his words, Neteyam took off like his tail’s on fire, running after you with a huge triumphant grin on his face. Tsireya and Lo’ak looked at each other and laughed, proud of their successful plan.

“Looks like I won this bet. Kiri better pays up!”

[lyriumsings]

I keep seeing people talk about Palestine as if all hope is lost like they’re already gone and “the least we can do it remember them” and quite frankly I reject that. These people are fighting for their lives demanding the world to pay attention to them. Demanding their freedom and their right to exist on their own land. In light of the absolute atrocity that is happening in Rafah I am urging everyone to remember why we’re protesting and that these people ARE HERE. They’re alive, they’re real, they have a beautiful culture that needs to be witnessed and celebrated so here are some Palestinian creators you should follow because Palestine is not lost. It is not an empty land that’s gone. They will never be gone and we should all keep fighting until Palestine is free and not a second before because Palestine WILL be free again. I’m focusing mostly on Palestinian creators on tiktok because I think it’s important to see the physically and listen them and just acknowledge that they’re people, they should have linktrees to their other social media. I encourage you to visit their pages and interact with them because they are also being censored especially on tiktok. My platform isn’t big here so please feel free to reblog and also add more links, I would love to follow more Palestinian creators as well!

None of us are free until we all are. From the river to the sea. 🇵🇸🕊️🍉

@/mxriyum - a Palestinian woman who shares her amazing recipes passed down from her mother. She hasn’t posted in a while but there are many Palestinian recipes on her page that are absolute delicious. Please give them a try.

@/anat_international - a Palestinian woman giving updates on what is happening in Gaza but also shares about Gaza before the genocide. She is currently being heavily censored by tiktok for talking about the genocide and is doing more “influencer” like videos to beat the algorithm. So she’s sharing more stuff about the culture like Tatreez clothing, and organizing pottery painting sessions with people who are palestinian and allies. Extremely informative! She’s taught me so much.

@/sammyobeidthem - a Palestinian man who is a comedian. Genuinely so funny! And proudly Palestinian and talks about Palestine in his sets!

@/elyanna - a Palestinian singer. Her voice is insanely gorgeous. She has a song that has not been released on spotify called olive branch that is about the ongoing conflict in Gaza.

@/monamakeupdoll - a Palestinian make up artist, she’s absolutely gorgeous! She share tips and tricks and make up brands that support Palestine!

@/thatfalahigirl -A Palestinian Influencer she has a link in her link tree to purchase a Keffiyah if you haven’t yet there is even a discount! All proceeds go to Gaza via Pious Projects! She shows various ways to wrap it and shares her cultural clothes and I learned what dabke is because of her and it looks like so much fun!

@/amalzhamm - A Palestinian influencer she posts about her lifestyle and food and her family and it’s just so important right now to see happy Palestinian people. Palestinian mothers and fathers and children just existing. Like all of us do every day. And she shared this absolutely beautiful video of what palestine is like.

I’m going to end with this next one the very first person I saw on tik tok that educated me through his videos on Gaza and Palestine in October last year.

@/iamsbeih - a Palestinian influencer he posts about what is happening right now and what has been happening to the Palestinian people for over 70 years. He talks about his own family and his roots in Palestine the correct way to pronounce Gaza and Palestine. Just so much crucial information and i’m so grateful for him being willing to spend the time making these videos to educate people like me. He even posted a couple of palestinian songs (iirc they’re folk songs a lot of Palestinians in the comments know them) recently and they’re very beautiful.

Thank you. Free Palestine.

[myslutwritings]

Hi! :D Can I request headcanons on the upper moon demons (1,2,3+ Muzan) reactions to finding out their fem s/o is suffering from depression? (Especially after she’s tried to hide it from them and everyone else, not once admitting to having it - frankly because she feels as if they wouldn’t care or take her seriously anyway (due to past experiences with her own family and friends), until she couldn’t keep up the facade of acting cheerful, laid back and positive all the time, it being obvious that there is something quite not right with her, even if she denies it, trying to downplay the situation, knowing full well herself that it’s getting bad).

(Aaaaaaa, I love ur headcanons 😭💓 I’m sorry if this topic is not something you’d be comfortable with writing for, it’s just something I’ve been experiencing myself lately for the past couple of months, it’s getting harder each day, kinda have been feeling empty, exhausted and genuinely depressed lately, no one that I know cares or takes me seriously, nor tries to help me overcome these emotions :), I appreciate you reading my request anyway!<3 sorry for kinda pouring my heart out, ik it’s cringe and unnecessary, sorry).

No, no! it’s completely okay. I suffer from depression myself so i’m comfortable writing for topics like these! I honestly love writing angst/hurt/+comfort so ya!! Thank you for requesting, anon!! (Also i’m happy you like my headcanons! Tysm for your kind words. I do hope you feel better and i hope these hc’s can cheer you up!)

➤ Uppermoons with a Fem!S/O who suffers from Depression

➤ SFW headcanons

including: Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma and Akaza.

•

•

•

warnings: non-canon reactions, mentions of suicidal thoughts, angst, etc.

Muzan

Muzan isn’t an idiot.

He can sense from a mile away that something is in fact wrong.

I mean, you always seem off.

He just cannot tell WHAT exactly is wrong.

You’re a strange one after all. (Not in a bad way obviously)

Muzan has asked you a dozen times prior, seeking out answers, at least an explanation for your change in behavior and emotions.

He dislikes change.

But wanna know what he dislikes more? You being upset.

“My dear, could you please tell me what’s wrong?”

Of course he never gets anything out of you. You just cast him that alluring yet suspicious fake smile of yours and reassure him that you’re “okay” or “fine” or even “couldn’t be better”

Your response are so.. dishonest.

Honestly, Muzan not knowing what exactly is wrong with you drives him wild. He ALWAYS wants to know what’s wrong, what you’re feeling, how you’re feeling, etc.

And whenever he isn’t aware of what exactly your feeling or is catching on to the suspicions that your lying it does in fact anger him.

Not only does it anger him but it upsets him incredibly. Like, do you not trust him? Are you scared of him because he’s the demon king? If you were secretly terrified of his existence he wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. That’s how truly humans are after all.

But for you this isn’t the case. You aren’t even scared of him. Just scared of your own thoughts and feelings.

A part of you wishes you could open up but the other part of you is like: eh, fuck it.

Who could blame you for not wanting to open up to the demon king himself though?

You may be his girlfriend, but still, like he would actually bring himself to care.

You see how vicious he is towards other humans. So why would he even bother with your silly yet powerful emotions?

You desired to open up yourself but however that never came so Muzan had no choice but to force it out of you one day.

Toxic, sure. But you were driving him nuts!

Like he snapped when he came home one night to find you rotting in your own filth, an empty stomach, disheveled hair, god, have you been sleeping all day?

He will ask you ONCE again if you wanted to talk.

To which you respond with a sorrowful “no”

Then you for real have the gull to make up excuses saying you’ve fallen ill.

Yeah, right.

That is Muzan’s breaking point.

It startles you when he snaps at you and actually gets mad.

This is his way of caring everybody. 💀

Whenever you’re depressed the feeling of getting yelled at by someone you love can hurt you or make you feel numb on the inside, you know?

I’m this case, it all just caves in and you sorta have an emotional break down in front of him.

Muzan is at a loss for words as you spill out your deepest and darkest feelings.

At least you’re finally opening up.

But damn, bro is shocked. Please give him a minute to adjust to all this.

At first he doesn’t know how to respond, instead, he will respond physically and just let you cry in his embrace as you vent to him and babble “i’m sorry” literally over 1000 times.

Muzan knew humans had depression, he reads a lot and is well aware of what it is. He’s just distraught this his own partner felt this way for so long.

By the way, did i mention he’s going to kill anyone who’s ever wronged you?

But worry not! He is going to be there for you every step of the way even with his low tolerance:)

Kokushibo

In the beginning, Kokushibo has absolutely no clue what’s going on inside your head.

I mean, if you say you’re fine then you’re fine right?

That’s all until your seemingly bad mood increases more and more everyday.

Yeah, that’s when his suspicions SKYROCKET.

Kokushibo has asked you before but gave up on it after many failed attempts.

He still has his mild concerns though so instead he observes you from afar.

He can tell something if off but assumes that just because you’re a human.

Honestly, he had some suspicions here and there that you may or may not be dealing with severe depression.

Guess what? Those thoughts he had were correct.

You immediately assume he doesn’t care and won’t care due to his demonic nature and his expressionless behavior.

Kokushibo began to catch on more and more when you started to refuse to eat dinner, you just refused to get up from bed and even take care of yourself.

FINALLY drops that stoic personality.

Caretaker Kokushibo to the rescue. Is immediately scooping you up, siting you at the table and convincing you to eat.

If you don’t eat he’ll just spoon feed you.

That night he took care of you.

That’s when he found out of your depressed state. No confession needed.

The two of you aren’t the greatest match because of your lacked communication.

No, you two aren’t toxic. Fights don’t even exist between y’all.

You guys just can’t express feelings properly.

But Kokushibo is always waiting for you to further explain how you feel. He’s satisfied that he now is aware of what’s wrong with you but also deeply destroyed on the inside.

You don’t deserve these harsh feelings. Why must the world be so cruel?

From that day onwards, Koku keeps a close eye on you and takes care of you more often.

Sometimes even ditches missions for you.

Yeah, he gets chastised by Muzan for it but he doesn’t care.

As long as you’re safe then he feels content.

By the way he’s killing off ANYONE who made you feel this way.

Douma

very, VERY dense.

Like does not notice anything.

He just presumed that’s how you are.

Now, Douma does feel emotions around you. You’re the only thing that has ever brought him joy.

You make that cold heart of his beat.

He’s very clingy around you, like, SUPER.

Wants to be around you all the time.

Which is why it’s a shocker that he didn’t notice immediately your drastic change in behavior.

Douma only really took notice when you began to distance yourself from everyone.

Even him.

Now he couldn’t care less if you ran away from everyone else but him? Yeah, there is something wrong.

So, he simply asks you if you’re okay.

In which you lie and say you’re doing just fine.

Oh, you are? Okay!!

Is immensely confused when you continue to distance yourself though.

Haha, humans are so silly.

Douma becomes really confused but brushes it off.

It’s all surprising that he can come off so dense when it comes to this. I mean, you’re a demon? come on mannn…

Yeah, he does feel emotions around you but doesn’t fully understand them, you know?

I swear, Douma can be naive around you sometimes despite being the sadistic and masochistic demon he is.

It takes him a long ass time to realize how much you’ve been suffering.

Please do not get angry with him though. Remember that he is new to all this!

So the first emotion he feels once he finds out about your depression is EXTREME guilt.

REAL GUILT.

Flabbergasted by how fucking long it took him to find out the truth.

*Mentally facepalms himself*

His petty little followers don’t count. The man may have spend his last few hundred years listening to peoples woes and worries but his emotional responses towards their feelings were never even genuine.

To be brutally honest, Douma is hopeless.

Yeah, he wants to help you, he really does.

Just has no idea how to:(

However, if you show him how to then he will catch on fairly quickly and become the master when it comes to taking care of you and helping you cope with your depression.

Similar to Kokushibo, Cue caretaker Douma to the rescue‼️‼️

He doesn’t mind taking care of you. Honestly he absolutely adores it.

You’ve always been there for him, you taught him how to feel again. He’s so grateful that he’s finally helping you after all this time.

Lends you extra cuddles and kisses but if you’re the type to want your space when you’re depressed he’ll try his hardest to understand and be there for you emotionally instead! He just wants to be over you all the time and make sure you’re doing well, ya know?

Okay, he may lose his touching privileges but don’t think he isn’t gonna let his guard down!

From there on out, He keeps an eye on you at all times. He needs to make sure your taking care of yourself!

Douma also developed the tendency to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, his advice is surprisingly effective by the way. I mean, his advice towards you is actually genuine so that must be why.

“Oh, Y/N, my lovely lotus, i despise how you carry such a heavy burden. I wish i could take all these negative feelings away from you!”

Akaza

Like Muzan, he isn’t easy to take for a fool.

Notices the very second your behavior changes.

Akaza, being the most amazing boyfriend he is will obviously attempt to strike up a conversation, desperately wanting you to open up and communicate with him properly.

Becomes disappointed when you just brush it off as “not important”

Like what? It IS important!

YOU are MORE than important to him.

Akaza is not blind, he won’t submit nor play dumb towards your responses

Absolutely hates making you uncomfortable and would hate to force you to tell him how you’re feeling but desperate times call for desperate measures.

This is just his way for caring about you.

At first, he will try each and every day to be there for you and try and talk with you.

Sits on the side of your bed as your laying down, curled up, unmoving and will just kiss your forehead and give you time to open up.

Akaza will bug you consistently, fishing a response from you, anything, just anything!!

“Sweetheart, could you tell me what’s going on with you?”

Nothing. Just that same old response he hears every damn time.

“I’m fine”, “Nothing is wrong!”, “It’s okay, i’m doing well, just tired.”

Hatessssss when you lie to him:(

Akaza feels beyond powerless.

Your feelings are very important to him!

Sure, he hates weak people, hates any other human being he encounters but you’re different!

Akaza knows deep down you’re suffering from depression but desires for you to confess it yourself in your own time.

But at the end of the day he had to force it out of you.

Felt insanely guilt but what else could he have done?

Everything else he’s ever done for you got him nowhere due to your own stubborn dds

Akaza is not mad though.

He could never be angry with you for having depression i mean, you can’t help it.

We all know how overwhelmingly overprotective he is so the very moment he finds out a friend of family member caused you to feel this way and shut the world out he is going to throw hands.

Like, how dare they?!

Akaza is another caretaker! Skips important missions for your sake despite him knowing the punishments that come along with it.

Akaza won’t mind taking care of you but he also needs you to learn how to take care of yourself if you want to truly heal so he’ll be there for you every single step of the way in order for you to accomplish that!

Another thing that’ll happen is that Akaza will become more needy and clingy than usual. He must protest his precious girlfriend at all costs.

Kisses you and reminds you how much he loves you.

Fucking HATES it when he’s forced to leave you (when he’s summoned to the infinity castle)

But the very second he’s home he’s relieved.

On those days you’re feeling super depressed to the point where you can’t get up Akaza will cool you breakfast and serve it to you in bed. Will even feed you if he has to then eventually he’ll help you get up and offer you all the motivation and energy you need to make it throughout the day.

Bro is a gentleman.

Literally is always going to be there for you, love you unconditionally.

And most importantly…

Beat the living HELL out of whoever worsened your depression‼️‼️

I hope you enjoyed these headcanons! To all those out there suffering currently i can promise you that it’s going to be okay. You got this! <3

[sugarcloudsky]

Can I request for a capsicin cookie x reader who is a scovilla student who is egotistical but is really shy and flustered when recieving praise and compliments

「Capsaicin with an Egotistical yet Shy S/O」

character: capsaicin cookie

wc: 514

cws: reader is a tad bit mean but otherwise none

hi!!!! ^_^ wrote this one pretty fast LOL, hope it came out ok!! i feel like i didn’t properly portray an egotistical reader, but i still hope you’re happy with this!!!

Although you and Capsaicin Cookie knew of each other’s existence prior to your actual meetings, you’d never really spoken to him other than a few words or greetings.

There wasn’t any bad blood between the two of you, you just never really spoke to him and in return, he never really spoke to you. In fact, he was the one always greeting you in the halls and exchanging pleasantries.

Capsaicin Cookie’s passionate and outgoing demeanor annoyed you (although only slightly, you were just sleepy and cranky), so much so that you began to ignore him whenever he spoke to you. You didn’t hate him, you were just too tired to deal with his loud voice.

This didn’t seem to deter him, though! Every morning without fail, he would greet you with a toothy grin and a wave. He would only let out a hearty chuckle when he saw you turn away and let out a ‘hmph’.

The day you actually had actually spoken with Capsaicin, was the day you were both paired up for a class assignment.

He smiled and sat next to you. You were about to make some sort of snide remark, when he says something that makes your brain completely short circuit.

“I’m excited to work with you! I’ve heard really good things about you!”

Capsaicin laughs with his signature annoyingly cute smile, seemingly oblivious to the expression you were making right now. Not like you wanted him to see, though.

His simple little compliment was somehow enough to make you completely red in the face, flustered and embarrassed.

He doesn’t notice you trying to hide your expression until he opens his eyes and sees you facing away from him in an awkward position.

“Are you okay…?”

“Yup! Totally fine!” That was a lie.

Capsaicin may have been oblivious to many things, but your response to his comment was not one of those things.

Capsaicin Cookie was a simple guy. He, quite frankly, found you a bit cute. He’d been admiring you from afar for a bit, simply saying hello to you every morning before classes began. But now, sitting next to you like this? He was more than just happy to be there.

He thought your prickly personality was intriguing. He wasn't put off by it unlike many of his other classmates, he just wanted to get closer to you, thinking maybe he would be able to break down those walls you kept up.

The compliment he gave you wasn’t just him trying to flatter you, he truly meant it! Capsaicin was excited to work with you not just because it was you, but also because he’d heard you were quite the cookie!

But you couldn’t imagine the way his heart skipped a beat when he noticed your flushed cheeks and ears. He felt… proud of being the one to make you react like that.

He almost wants to do it again.

“Let’s just get to work, alright? Capsaicin Cookie—”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?”

“W— what?!”

Oh, he is going to do it again.

[kiirotoao]

Awkwardness, tension, and lies part 2: Michael, I damn well know who you are.

I’m trying to be funny with that title, but I’m also so not. It’s crazy that we have the airport scene at all to highlight tensions, but the fact that Mike acts the way that he does around Will astounds me most about that whole situation.

Here’s why.

Mike argued in the Rink-o-Mania fight that he focused on sending letters to El, that Will should have reached out if he wanted to talk, that it was Will’s fault that they drifted apart. Once he blamed his prioritizing his girlfriend, twice he blamed Will. He never blamed himself. But then he did by episode 4. He called himself “a total self-pitying idiot.” He made up with Will. It was pretty clear that he missed Will, especially when he said that “Hawkins, it’s not the same without you.”

So Mike did miss him. Right? And if that’s true, then he was lying in that fight, right? He could have done better. Dare I say it, Mike probably wishes he could have done better.

Backtrack to episode 2 with the airport scene, the first hug. Mike misses Will. Thanks to foresight, we know this for a fact. And even if Mike wasn’t truly thinking about missing Will at the time, it’s there. It exists. Missing someone - even if it’s only realized in a short amount of time - doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a slow burn. Why then doesn’t he hug Will, say that he missed him, and let the fact settle in his mind?

The thing is that the show seems to answer this as Mike “worrying too much about El,” as said in the apology in episode 4, which leads me to believe that he was expressing indifference in that airport scene because he wasn’t really thinking about Will. But then how might Mike explain his behavior towards that painting? He takes two looks at Will and clocks it and immediately asks about what it is. He might be inquisitive for a number of reasons that we don’t get. Maybe it’s because of El mentioning it in her letter. Maybe it’s because Mike’s never seen Will brandish such a large piece before, and he’s curious. Maybe it’s because he’s trying to make small talk. Whatever the weather, Mike is interested in Will by asking. But he also doesn’t try to show it. He takes Will’s answer about it and cooly says, “cool.” Dead-faced. So, hm. Every which way you look at his reactions and composure in that airport scene, it seems like there’s no clear way to understand his motives.

Unless he’s hiding something. Because to me, this all sounds like Mike is hiding something, and him hiding something would quite frankly answer everything.

See, the thing is that for Will, he hasn’t changed so much over the seasons. He’s still sassy, he’s still strong at heart, he still fights for what’s right. And he still. Loves. Mike. I said in my last post that they both changed, but in actuality, Will was ready to welcome Mike with open arms, give him his painting, and love him no matter what, just like before. It’s Mike who stifled that by being withdrawn. Mike changed. And it’s Mike’s withdrawal that caused Will to change his attitude.

So notice how the story becomes so labyrinthine and Byler-centered at the get-go in season 4 because of Mike. I think that the show being in either El or Will’s perspective/focus whenever Mike is on screen is so interesting because we know that Mike has changed, but we never quite understand how, and it leaves us guessing.

In that airport scene, is he happy to see Will? Is he nervous to see Will? Is he trying to ignore Will? It could be, and I believe that it is, all three, but one thing is for sure: Mike isn’t truly indifferent. If he was indifferent, he wouldn’t have pulled the gayest most heartwarming apology for what he said in the Rink-o-Mania fight and basically ask Will to be in his life exactly as they were again. No, Mike isn’t one for indifference with Will. We’ve seen this in season 3 in him bringing Lucas to go biking to Will’s house in the rain to apologize. Mike pursues Will. And for Mike, that never changes.

With all of this in mind, with Mike factually and expressively missing Will, with Mike changing and being withdrawn, with Mike still choosing to pursue Will later on, in that airport scene, what could he be hiding?

To answer this, I bring back the concepts of awkwardness, tension, and lies. Guess what ties all three of those things together along with his missing, withdrawing from, and still pursuing Will; that’s right! Deep-seated, internally homophobic, hidden feelings.

Mike hugged Dustin after Erica won Eddie’s campaign. He hugged Lucas at the hospital. He’s not immune to hugging his best friends or something. This is about Will. There’s something different about him, to Mike. And I hear the question, well, wasn’t it the distance that was different? Mike stayed in Hawkins with Dustin and Lucas. Maybe he’s just more comfortable with them. But to that I say, okay, so, if we believe that, then Mike didn’t hug Will because he doesn’t know Will anymore, and he’s uncomfortable being close to him after a long time. But from the way that he chose to reach out to Will and remain close to him emotionally tells me so much otherwise. Even after all that time, Mike made amends first after their fight. He gleaned that Will wanted things to change. He knew that he was at fault all on his own. “Oh, I didn’t say it.” “You didn’t have to.”

And, mind you, they fought because of the tension at the airport scene! I think that I need to really make that clear. I’ve been using the Rink-o-Mania fight as a crutch to my case, but truly, it’s on the main page just as much as the airport scene! The tension culminated with their fight. They were mad at each other. They had reasons to be, too. They left off unresolved. Things could have soured and we may have never gotten answers as to why Mike walked away. And then that could have been it! That could have been the end of Mike and Will! The Duffers could have had their storylines no longer intersect and their chemistry fall completely flat, but no. Mike gave an entire heartfelt apology and that was one of the only times that seasons that we heard from his heart and his thoughts. And it was all to Will.

Mike undeniably still knew Will; he knew him enough to know what he did wrong and came around realizing what Will had argued to him. Mike wanted to be comfortable with him again. So no, he didn’t truly alienate Will nor become too uncomfortable with him not to wish “best friend”ship again with him. But he wasn’t that way at the airport, so what gives? What first impression hampered him from being close to Will if he, deep down, wanted closeness with Will? What complicated things so much that he had to hesitate with Will at first?

Truly, the moment that Mike made the airport scene awkward, I think that Bylers won. We didn’t get Will tripping over his feet, down bad for Mike and giving him the painting right then and there to be rejected. We didn’t get them hugging like it was nothing. We didn’t get comfortable smiles. We got tension, conflict, resolve, and betterment. We got everything. And we saw Will’s van confession, so we know that he’s been pining after Mike. And from the setup of the airport scene, with the question of what is Mike hiding? I think that Mike could damn well be pining after Will, too. I believe that there’s love at work here, a kind of love that binds people together. A kind that fights and makes up. A kind that slowly figures out how to navigate life together and confronts and mollifies pain as needed. A kind that gives advice and listens. A kind that can’t stop watching the other for assurance. A kind that gives each other their all.

I love the airport scene because, in my mind, it solidifies the fact that something’s up with Mike that we don’t know explicitly yet that we’ll have to explore next season. We’ve been given Will’s heart, we’ve been given El’s heart, but Mike has deflected self-vulnerability time and time again for the sake of others. But interestingly enough, the one exception is his apology to Will. (And, no, I don’t count his monologue to El in the final episode of season 4 as true vulnerability. Truth is, El was dying on that table and Mike had a sense of obligation to save her - wholly or not, a sense at least, and if you disagree with that then you don’t know Mike at all - so all of his words might not have been true.) I hope that he gets to be a little selfish for his own good next season and focuses on himself.

And maybe, just maybe, we’ll know what hindered him at that airport. What he was truly thinking about. Perhaps who he was truly thinking about.

[romanoffsbish]

The Damned, and the Dame

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Wanda x Vision ; Natasha x F!R (☠️)

Prompts

“After everything you've done, I still love you. with all I am.”

Every muscle in her body ached, the adrenaline built up from the chase, and the immense power garnered from the dark hold having faded by now. All Wanda wanted to do was to curl up in her bed, close her eyes, and quite frankly—never awake again. There was nothing left for her here, Vision was gone for good, along with their kids, and if she allowed herself to think about her greatest loss, then she’d be able to acknowledge your absence as well, and just how much it still hurts to have lost you.

————————————

The first person she ever truly loved, who loved her back without a second thought, when in reality you would’ve been better to run like the world told you to. For years you two were happy, then one night she couldn’t look at you without feeling resentment. The smile never faded from your face, even though you’d lost just as much as she did, if not more really. It’d felt unfair to her, that happiness just came so easily to you, but had she been paying any attention she’d have known your never ending supply of joy was because of her, not in spite.

Pushing you away felt like the right thing to do; months of unwarranted silence left you in a fit of confusion, you racked your mind for any answers for the cold shoulder, only to find it when Wanda was hanging off the arm of the synthezoid. The glint in her eyes was enough to tell you she’d been cheating on you, at least in some capacity, and the heartbreaking sight of her kissing his cheek left you gasping for air. Stumbling back into the wall, a wave of nausea rolled through you, and you ran off to collect your things, planning to disappear for awhile for the betterment of all those around you.

You’d always thought your love, born in your youth, would stand the test of time, but fate never seemed to be willing to work in your favor, and you never were one to push back.

Wanda moved on first, but when you’d returned months later, in good spirits, and with your arm wrapped snuggly around the waist of the redhead the room began to spin, the entirety of her oxygen leaving her lungs, her heart stilled, and she was unfortunately vividly reminded of the night you left.

She’d returned to your shared room, a petty annoyance in her heart in preparation for seeing you, but when she found the room vacant of your existence, with a simple note on the bed reading: “I hope he makes you happy, I’m sorry that I no longer could…,” her heart had stopped then too, and even with her new beau it never seemed to beat the same again.

Wanda knew the world likely believed her to be dead, it was an agreed upon notion between her and the sorcerer that guided her back to sanity. Strange had nodded from the corpses frame when she looked to him, because if he didn’t agree then he’d have to send her to the raft, and he could see the despondence in her dull green eyes—she was no longer a threat.

Not only did the world think it, she herself wished it, but she promised you along time ago that she’d never give up. Even though she broke it by doing so with you, she reasoned it best to atone for such sins by forcing herself to continue going on; living was her repentance.

There had been only a few places she could go, she settled on a cabin in the woods of Norway, but as she approached it she saw a light on. Every hair on her body stood at attention, she had no intention to fight anyone else, she was exhausted, but this was her home now, the one she had once dreamed up with you in the peak of your relationship. There was no way she’d just let someone infiltrate it, and take away the only piece of you she had left, even if it meant drawing attention to herself after just agreeing with Strange that she would remain low.

The closer she got to the house though she found her body losing its fight, a deep calm began to settle in her heart at the familiar smell of your cologne, and the hum leaving through the kitchen window nearly had her tripping in an attempt to reach you. She knew it was a long shot, most of her believed this to be residual mind games from the dark magic, but on the off chance it wasn’t she wasn’t about to waste any more time standing outside.

Wanda froze in the doorway, it was you, there was just no mistaking that physique., “Y/N?,” you knew she was there, but it took you a minute to grow the confidence to face her. You’d come here the moment the news of her defeat made it to the headlines, and just as you expected—hoped—she was very much alive., “So you’re not dead then?,” you tried to sound indifferent, but the dinner on the stove for two and the relief in your eyes were enough to tell Wanda that some naive part of you still cared.

“Well, I’m making dinner, and I will go draw you up a bath, because you look kinda rough.,” Wanda’s heart fluttered in her chest at your soft smirk, and teasing chuckle, so much so that she was overwhelmed with a need to be close to you. Needing to feel you to know this moment was real, so even in her dirtied state she slammed her body into yours, tightly wrapping her arms around you, and only truly settling when you returned her gesture after the shock of her urgency wore off.

“Y/N, why are you here?,” she asked the question of the hour.,” you grimaced at the dark thoughts that had plagued you all day., “Because I needed to see you were alive.,” you felt a tightening in your chest, the words you omitted were stinging the tip of your tongue., “After everything you've done, I still love you. with all I am.,” you sighed, choosing messy honesty over beating around the bush any longer., “Why would you?”

“Because no matter what I know your heart Wanda, I’ve known you since we were little kids in a war torn country. When you don’t understand something you become defensive, you also tend to run, for all of that I forgive you, and my love for you will never waver.”

“It should,” she sniffled, but contrary to her sentiments she snuggles into your embrace further., “We’ve suffered enough apart Wanda, we’ve lost so much, why should we continue on this way when we could just let love heal us?”

“I-I’ve done a lot of bad things Y/N/N.,” she cries into your shirt, her hand clutching to the fabric tightly in fear of losing you after you see the monster she’s become., “I know Wanda, you got lost in your grief, it wasn’t right, but who on the team hasn’t?,” you reasoned., “Literally, Clint went on a killing spree, Tony and Bruce created Ultron without punishment, Steve put Bucky above every last one of us then left us all behind in a post Thanos world, truly the list could go on, and on Wanda. You did some bad things, yes, and it cost people their lives, you should feel guilty, but not to the point where you’d believe you’re a bad person.”

“I broke your heart.,” she reminds you, as if that was the worst of it all., “Yeah, you did, but for that I’m grateful.,” her eyebrows furrowed., “It gave us a chance to grow up, I was able to see love from a different lens. I felt free with Natasha, my love for her was true, as yours was for Vision, but it was never deep like ours was.”

“We’re soulmates Wands, Piet had always said it, and after all this time I know he was right.,” she pulled her head from your shoulder to gaze at you, her hands gently cupped your cheeks, and she pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. Tears began to befall both of your cheeks at the reacquainting of lips. Wanda sighed as she reluctantly pulled away from you, “Heart, Body, and Soul… Y/N, all of me belongs to you; please tell me, does this mean you’ll stay?”

“Wanda, if you will shower, I’d do anything.,” she pushed at your chest with a huff, but she couldn’t help but to chuckle along with you., “I’m holding you to that detka.,” she lowly whispered, winking and leaving you stunned. The witch smirked, grateful to know you’re still so easy to fluster, then she left with a kiss to your cheek, and a warmth in both your hearts.

————————————

1,490 Words

🥰 Kaitlyn 🥺

[galactic-academia]

A Good Rub

Rating: E, minors pass your way.

Category: F/M

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Relationship: Cobb Vanth x F!Reader

Tags: Flirting, language, fluff, massage (M receiving), fingering (F receiving), very brief oral sex (M receiving), dirty talk, unprotected PIV (don’t be a fool: wrap your tool)

Words: 5,2K

Summary: Cobb Vanth is the best Marshal Mos Pelgo could have dreamed of, but at the end of the day, he’s still a man and his back is killing him. That, you can take care of (loosely set before the events of TBOBF)

Notes: Alright, believe it or not, but I’ve been working on that for months, so I’m very happy to finally share it. I’m not used to write smut, but I did my best, please be indulgent, also I’m not a native, please, forgive my mistakes. Reader is described as a woman with breasts and female genitalia, but no further descriptions (if somethings escaped to me, please say so and I’ll correct it).

Masterpost | Ask | Guidelines | Timothy Olyphant Masterlist

«Oh, stars! Right there...»

He hadn’t meant to sound like this; needy, hoarse, it had been punched out of his lungs and he was considering himself lucky that this vulnerable sound hadn’t turned into a full moan. Still, he blushed as you immediately complied, pressing hard into the muscles of the Marshal’s lower back, then repeating the exact same move, but with less intensity, and again, softly - almost caressing - before setting on another group of muscles.

It had been your idea, you had started all of this - that he was sure about - but how exactly he had turned lucky enough to end up lying, half naked, in your bed; Cobb Vanth was still processing. Not to mention the fact that you were Hell bent on helping him to relax, thus the massage the Marshal was currently enjoying... A little too much.

Granted, it had been a tough day; Barzan’s flock of banthas having run off the previous night, as many people of Mos Pelgo as there were available land-speeders had tramped the Dunes Sea in search of the contumacious animals all day long. On the evening, Barzan had all his cattle back and secure in a paddock, and Taanti had treated the valiant sand rangers to a round of drinks on the house - even if he had grumbled in his non-existent beard all along.

Of course, Cobb had partaken in the searching mission today; led it, actually, he also had helped Barzan to steer his banthas back where they belonged after roaming the desert for hours, and he went to Taanti’s celebration, for the Weequay would certainly have removed the Marshal’s head from his shoulders if he hadn’t.

It was beginning to be late when Cobb had left the cantina. Quite frankly, there was nothing his heart desired more than just lying down and be unconscious for a few hours, but he still had business to attend.

«AWWww...»

Unfortunately for him, while still being in excellent shape, vigorous and strong as all Hell, the Marshal wasn’t as young as he used to be, as his back just had nastily reminded him.

«Hiya, Marshal.»

Cobb grimaced to himself - of course, you would be the one to catch him during a vulnerable moment - before turning around to face you, all charming, cheeky smiles, and pretend to scratch an itch instead of holding on tight to his crumpling vertebrae. The good sheriff truly couldn’t care less about what people thought of his persona, he hadn’t any time for that kind of bantha shit. But you weren’t «people», and even if he would rather die than admit it out loud, Cobb always jumped on any and all occasions to impress you.

«Good evenin’, my fair lady», Cobb gave it a shot, even if he knew it was useless. Hadn’t you knew him as well as you did, you would have fallen for his act, but you could see right through him - on this point, at least - and knew your beloved Marshal was still upright by sheer stubbornness only.

«May I ask you where you’re heading to on this pleasant evening?»

You also were at Taanti’s, you knew where he was coming from and Cobb was sure you were ready to bid everything you had on the fact that he was not heading home. It was a game the two of you had been playing for far too long, and you were still falling in each other’s traps every single time. Falling for each other.

«I’m on my way to she Sheriff’s Office, where a thing or two are still waitin’ to be taken care of before I can call it a night.» Cobb noticed your arms crossed on your chest and your head tilted in frustration: that was what you were excepting to hear and you weren’t happy about it. «But if there’s anything you need, just say the word, and I’ll be all yours.»

You let a little huff escape by your nose and turned your head to the side, breaking eye contact, but a half smile blossomed on your lips nonetheless. Yeah, putting a smile on your face, he never failed to. Oh, you did bite your lips to try to conceal your growing grin, but in vain. You couldn’t resist the Marshal, he always managed to make you melt. Giving in, you grinned freely and even let yourself go as far as giggling. And there was nothing Cobb liked more than making you go all bashful.

«Indeed, Marshal, there’s something I do need.» You held your hand slightly, inviting Cobb to take it and brush his lips across your knuckles like he sometimes did when he felt brave enough, or when the need to be close to you turned into an ache impossible to soothe.

«Ma’am -», and he did, he did lift your hand and softly, delicately, let the plump of his lips and the tingle of his moustache caress the thin skin - not of your knuckles - but of your fingertips, «- your wishes are my commands.»

«Truly?» Oh he should know better than blindly trusting you when you act all innocent and shy like that. But, what can he say? You’re his weak spot.

«Whatever you want, just name it and I’m your man.»

Too much. He had said too much. It’s the truth, not even disguised as a tease or a silly jab. He would do whatever you want. He would be your man, if you’d let him. And yet, Cobb can’t make himself regret his words, not when these instants, hushed, stolen, whispered in the dark, are more thrilling than anything he has ever experienced.

Never taking your hand out of his, you turned around to go back inside, «Come on in, then Cobb», and he diligently followed you, like he promised he would. The Marshal hadn’t paid attention, when he was outside, that he had almost collapsed under your window and, as you led him to your bedroom, where you left him to go rummage into the adjoining little bathroom, he tried to not mull on that thought.

«So, what’s the problem? Is there a sand spider in there? Somethin’ that needs to be fixed?» Cobb was feeling antsy, he was trying to not invade your privacy, but miserably failing at not noticing the soft, rumpled sheets, appealing to his tired body. The pillows were looking unbearably comfy and he felt a sudden pang of longing at the thought of lying there, entangled with you, his nose buried in the nape of your neck - or in your hair - and just breathing you in... However, a flash of pink got him out of his reverie as soon as he caught it; was it your dressing gown laying there, abandoned, on the bed? Did you... Shed it?

Of course she’s in her sleeping attire, you moron, not everyone needs to be dead on their feet to judge it’s time for some shut eyes, like you do!

«My problem is that you’re literally working yourself to death.» You came out of the bathroom in your night gear only - and this time Cobb didn’t fail to notice it - and gave him a towel. «And since you promised you would do whatever I want, you’re going to lie down and let me give a good rub to your poor back.»

The Marshal should have been ashamed - and he would, had he been in his normal state -  but the sight of you had short-circuited his brain. You weren’t wearing anything fancy, but it was light enough to be bearable on this warm night. Ample, to be comfortable, the exact opposite of Cobb’s pants, becoming tighter by the minute, just seeing how much your breasts were now free to gently bounce as you waved in the direction of the bed. «Off with your clothes».

That caught the Marshal’s attention.

«I’m sorry, what?»

All flushed and looking down, you still powered through your embarrassment, «Y-you take off as much cl-clothes as you’re comfortable to and you lie on the bed. I’m... I’m going to give you a massage. If it’s ok with you?»

Cobb wanted to laugh, manically so. You, the plump, young, soft thing, were asking him, the broken, exhausted, middle-aged man, if he were ok with disrobing and lying in your bed so you could touch him? What the Hell are they putting in the Spotchka, these days? But sensing you wouldn’t agree with him on the absolute fuckery of the situation, the Marshal just croacked a «Yeah, darlin’, that’s very ok with me», before starting to blindly remove his bandolier and his blaster. And the bright smile you gave him before going back to the bathroom made him tell to his screaming conscience to go fuck itself.

As you had asked him to, the Marshal got rid of his shirt and his signature red scarf, then his boots and - while he was at it - his socks, because even if he were still trying to convince his traitorous body to calm the fuck down, Cobb was very well aware that there were a few things unsexier than a man in his drawers with his socks still on. To his credit, the good sheriff hadn’t had the intention to take his pants off, not until he truly looked at them. He had quickly showered before going to Taanti’s, but the celebration had been a little wild for some of the villagers and one of them had spilled their drink on Cobb. His shirt has been mostly spared, but his pants had taken it all and they were now sticky and stinking of alcohol. There was no way he was letting that garbage go anywhere near your little nest.

That’s how Cobb Vanth ended up to crawl - mostly naked - in your bed. No big deals, just a nice massage from a friend, nothing to fuss about. If only the rest of his body could get the memo... The Marshal was bitterly chastising himself and grabbing for a pillow to rest his head upon when you finally came back from the bathroom.

«Comfy?», you asked, dropping off some items Cobb hadn’t had time to identify, before crawling on the mattress and settling on the back of Cobb’s thighs.

Certain the Maker was testing him, the Marshal managed to croak a pitiful «Yeah», before he buried his face into the pillow. That proved to be a tactical error when, upon his first breath into the material, your smell flood his nose. Cobb must have grabbed just the one you sleep with; of course he had.

«Alright then,» he heard you mumbling to yourself, «let’s do this.» The Marshal felt you wiggling against his ass and fiddling with the Maker knows what for a few seconds, and the tingle of the material of your loose sleep shirt on his skin was torture already. However, nothing could have prepared him to the feeling of your hands. They were warm and soft, and gliding unexpectedly smoothly over his neck, shoulders and upper back. That alone was very pleasant, and Cobb was almost ready to lose the battle against his body when something cool went dripping onto his back, making him startle a little.

«Sorry, this is just some moisturiser, so your skin won’t be chafed. Is that ok?»

Not trusting his tongue anymore and biting on his lips to contain the groan that was threatening to escape, the Marshal just made a positive noise without lifting his face off the pillow.

Satisfied with the answer, you went back to work, first rubbing with the palm of your hands, before getting your fingers to dig into the knots you found, applying pressure and steadily moving.

«I’m so happy you’re letting me doing this for you», you spoke so quietly, hushedly, as if you were afraid to ruin the moment, or to scare him, «You’re always taking care of us, we’re so blessed to have you Cobb... I hope you know that.»

Hadn’t he been down to his briefs, dizzy with pleasure and with your knees bracketing his hips, the good Marshal would certainly have found a way to evade your praises. He would distract you or simply find a reason to flee. Your kind words made him uncomfortable; he craved them, like he craved your attention and your affection, but once he had them, he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. But here, trapped under you, with his brain flooded with endorphins... It wasn’t a problem anymore.

«You’re too good to me, sugar, I don’t deserve you.»

«You deserve everything and then some more, Cobb, let me be good to you.»

Somewhere deep inside, the Marshal knew he had put himself in an impossible position. You were there, showering him with soft touches and kindness, and whatever you may think, he was still just a man with an erection pressing into the mattress. Listening to you saying you wanted to be good to him wouldn’t help him to calm down, neither would the fact that you had now decided to give some love to his lower back, each movements of your hands pushing Cobb’s hips into the bed, forcing him to hump the sheets.

Some broken groans started to escape him, the Marshal couldn’t contain them anymore, not when he was growing harder and harder, his drawers damp with precome. Not when you were spurring him on.

«That’s it, here you go, let it all go, I’ve got you. Let it be good for you.»

Cobb was panting, trying his damnest to not squirm, to not lean into your touch and chase the friction your firm mattress provided to his cock, when it happened all at once. He felt your nimble fingers sneaking under the elastic of his underpants to access his lower vertebrae - those which were hurting the most - and kneed, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain up his spine and his hips grinding down against the bed some more.

«Oh, stars! Right there...»

No, Cobb hadn’t meant to sound like this, and he knew he should have asked you to stop, especially when he felt a warm burst of precome shoot from his throbbing shaft only to come dripping down, adding to the sticky mess he had made of his briefs, oozing through the fabric and into your sheets. But it was so good...

Lost into the sensation of your hands working his muscles back into submission, the Marshal unthinkingly grind down more violently and let out a sinful, purring sound... To which you echoed an answering moan.

It had been a tiny sound, a delightfully pathetic little mewl, but it stuck Cobb light lightening. He raised himself on his elbows and turned his head to look at you above his shoulder. There you were, still perched on the back of his legs, all flushed and dishevelled, mortified. Irresistible. One moment you were kneeling on the bed and the next Cobb had flipped you under him and was devouring your mouth like a starved man.

The squeaking noise you made when your back hit the mattress didn’t do anything to deter the Marshal, not when your arms immediately went around his shoulders and neck for you to pull him closer. It made something clench in Cobb’s chest and his hunger for you took the second place behind the absolute delight that flooded him. You wanted this at least as much as he did. You wanted him. The Marshal let his fever morph into something savoring and languid, almost teasing. It made you smile against his lips as you pushed one of your hands into his silver locks and let out a giddy little noise.

His heart threatening to leap out of his chest, Cobb broke the kiss only to set his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

«You have no idea for how long I have wanted to do this.»

«Do it again, then.»

Your mouth went back to his, even hungrier than before.

«Please Cobb, please...», your breathy little pleas, whimpered between fervent kisses proved to be the Marshal’s undoing. With quick, efficient moves, he unceremoniously threw your clothes to the floor, before starting to cover your body with kisses and roguish little nips that make you squirm under him.

«’Ve got you, baby, don’t you worry. Look at you, all worked up already and I barely touched you...»

Equally playful and amazed, Cobb swiftly swiped his tongue across your nipples and started to leave  kitten licks on both of them, making you shudder and moan some more.

«D-Don’t tease! Cobb, d-»

«’M not teasing.» He totally was and hadn’t any intention to stop. When his gaze levelled with your navel, a devilish grin - the one that screamed troubles and that you loved so much - painted itself on his lips, «Just savoring my pretty girl. You’re such a treat, all sweet and soft for me, aren’t ya honey?»

He let his tongue slowly dip in your navel, then retreat back up, leaving some saliva pool in it. Then he repeated the motion, a little faster with every pass of his tongue, until he was fucking his saliva in and out your navel and you were desperately trying to press your tights together and shaking your head from side to side.

«What do you want, sweet girl?» Cobb asked, lifting himself up from your belly to grab your wrists and remove your arms from your face. His bright eyes turned soft upon beholding your own gaze: unfocused and watery, but full of want, «Tell me, baby, tell me and it’s all yours.»

You promptly released your arms from the Marshal’s hold - much faster than he thought you were able to in your state - only to clutch to his neck, smashing your lips back together. It was messy and without any finesse, but your eagerness made something primal and possessive curl into Cobb’s stomach. At last, between sloppy kisses, you managed to slur, «Want you... All of you, like you promised...»

Had he still been a young man, the Marshal would have made a fool of himself, already. Half mad with want, he started to babble into your ear while sliding his fingers under your panties to run them down your legs. «You got me, sweet thing, you got me. I did promise, didn’t I? Wouldn’t dream of breaking my oath, not to you. Open up for me, yeah? You took such great care of me tonight, now it’s my turn...»

His long, thick fingers found your mound, lightly grazing your clit before softly parting your folds while his tongue teased yours in a gentle caress, somewhat placating your desperation, slowing down almost to a halt where you breathed each other in. Then, without any warning, he sank two digits in your soaking heat, swallowing the gasping cry you let out. «So wet, baby, so perfect for me, always...» The twist he added to his move as he eased them out made you shudder, your mouth open in glee. «M’gonna give you everything you want». He pushed his fingers back inside, curling into you, again and again, as your grip on his shoulders became painfully tight. «Gonna ruin you».

You already were ruined, had been since well before he had first touched you, before he had graced you with a quick hug in thanks. But that, Cobb wasn’t aware of. The drawn-out pinning for your Marshal, all the little things you had shared, those secret smiles, those stolen looks, those quick winks and lips almost blood-bitten, collected like sanctified tokens and tucked in a corner of your memory for rainy days, they all came surfacing to be crowned when the rising tension in your lower stomach suddenly snapped. You gushed on Cobb’s fingers with a surprised moan he gladly swallowed, your legs wrapping around him.

When the Marshal finally left your lips for more than a quick, much needed breath, it was for lifting his soaked fingers from your center to curl his tongue around them. You were breathless - he always had had this effect on you, turned you into an anxious, but giddy mess each time he appeared in your line of sight - but not enough to prevent you from rolling him underneath you with a growl. You always were nervous around Cobb Vanth, but in a skittish way, bold and unpredictable, and you were pretty sure that was what kept him always coming back for more.

Eyes wild, your hair starting to look like a nest, you preened under your Marshal’s ravenous gaze. You only let him enough time to steady his hands on your hips before you started your own way down his body. You too - as Cobb discovered with bliss - could kiss and lick and nip and suck. Once again, he was the one to squirm due to your ministrations, but this time, he couldn’t stop his damn mouth to run, «Gonna be the death of me, baby. Always so good to me, so pretty an’ so sweet... Come back here, honey, let me make good on my promise, y-yeah?».

However, by the time he finally shut his mouth, you had reached the hem of his brief and were showering it in butterfly-light kisses. You waited for him to look you dead in the eyes before hooking your thumbs into the elastic and - at last - pulling his length free. You took him in, laid out in the warm, dim glow of your bedside light, glorious, gorgeous. The tough, cocky Marshal, tamed for you and for you only, awaiting your next move. You could have eaten him. Then you looked at his organ, proudly resting against his belly. You muttered an impressed curse and bit your lips, both amazed and a little thrilled, before you made the mistake to look up to Cobb’s face. The bastard was smirking down at you, fully aware of his blessing and truly pleased by your wonder. But then again, even if there was nothing you liked more than pleasing your Marshal, that didn’t mean you couldn’t be a little shit yourself. Still holding his gaze, you let your tongue peaked between your lips and gave a long, thorough lick up his manhood, even going as far as quickly dipping the tip of it into his slit. Cobb throwing his head back and biting his lips to try - and fail - to contain the neediest growl was a very, very satisfying sight to behold; but before you had time to lean back - fully intending to indulge into the writhing man beneath you - he firmly grabbed your hips and manhandled you - a hand coming to pillow your head as you hit the mattress - so he was, once more, on top of you.

«Sweetheart,» he purred, his nose nuzzling your cheek, his thumb barely ghosting over your parted lips, «You can’t imagine how many times I’ve fucked my fist pretendin’ it was this smart, wicked mouth of yours.» You snapped up his finger into your mouth, lightly nipping at it, because the image of this man touching himself to the thought of you was too much to handle. You needed to consume him, in all the ways he would let you. «But right now,» Cobb briefly replaced his thumb with his lips, «I need to have you». There he was, hovering over you, dishevelled, his eyes wild, hard and leaking, dizzy with want, half mad with the imperative need to make you his; and here you were, sprawled on your back,clutching at him with all your limbs to push him closer to you, chasing his lips and whimpering into his mouth, your legs spread around his hips, open and ready and wanting, and still, Cobb forced himself to draw back a little, to look at you and to whisper, «If you will have me?»

He would have stopped. Would you just have told him to, and he would have stepped back, helped you to dress and cuddle with you or - if you so have wanted - just went away and let you be. The decision was yours to take, so you took it; you buried your hands into his hair and led him back to your mouth to murmur against his lips, «Yes, Cobb, I want you, please... Please, fuck me».

Intense. You had thought about the best adjective to describe your Marshal, and there was no word that could make him justice ; but « intense » was the closest thing to it. His life was intense, here, at the far end of everything, where heat, dryness and almost everything that lives do their best to kill you. His work was intense, keeping the bad guys away from Mos Pelgo and making everyone’s problems - big or small - his as well. His wrath was intense, and you know he wouldn’t hesitate to kill in cold blood. His laugh was intense, loud and clear, springing right from his belly and impossible to resist. His gaze was intense, all seeing, even right trough people, but always so, so kind to the ones he had swore to protect. In bed like in every other aspect of his life, Cobb Vanth is intense, to your greatest delight.

It’s a tight fit, even soaked and open from your first orgasm as you are. Your breath hitched as the fat head started to breach your entrance. He’s barely inside, really, still, you scrunched your eyes close, as it would ease the painful pinch away. It didn’t, but Cobb cradling your cheeks in his hands and covering your face in kisses certainly helped, though.

«T’s alright, love, I got you. Just take it easy, yeah?»

Love. You’ve been trying to relax, knowing that, once the dull pain would have faded away, only pure bliss would stay. This term of endearment and the implication it involved, however, it made you clench hard around the few inches already inside you. Cobb’s features contorted before he let his forehead bump against yours, eyes closed and lips parted, «Maker, you’re so kriffing tight,» he hissed, lips blindly seeking yours, «loosen up a bit for me, sugar, or it will end before it had even begun, you feel so damn good...»

Gently, Cobb slipped his arms under your thighs, spreading them some more, drawing his hips back before driving them forward again, slowly, carefully, but deeper than before. Then again. And again. «Gonna make you take more, don’t you worry babygirl, gonna make you take all of it.»

You moaned, aroused beyond belief by the idea of being full of him and then it hit you: it didn’t hurt anymore. You opened your eyes to meet Cobb’s, the beginning of a smile starting to form on your face, but it morphed into a surprised «Oh...» when you felt the grind of his pelvis against you.

Cobb was downright grinning at you, «There you go, sweetheart.» For one moment, you were simply stunned, trying to process that you were, at last, being one with your beloved Marshal; but then he started to draw his hips back, painfully slowly so, before going back the same fashion. Lazy, deep strokes, letting you feel every ridge, every twitch.

«Does that feel good, pretty baby?»

It did; so much that your brain just refused to cooperate anymore, happy to bath in euphoria. Who needed to talk when you could just feel that incredible?

«Answer me», Cobb punctuated his growl with a deeper, harsher thrust, and the loud, unashamed surprised moan that fell from your lips set him on fire. «Mmh, it did feel good, but you like it a little rougher, don’t you, love?»

Your helpless mewl and attempt to bury your face in the crook of his neck gave Cobb all the answers he needed. He shushed you, kissing the side of your forehead, «It’s alright, baby, I’m going to take care of you». And he did, he pounded into you, pushing against something absolutely mind-blowing, hungry for your cries and moans. Ravenous for the pleasure he was giving to you. Each thrust made heat curl into your belly, tension gathering and rising, pushing you toward the edge. It’s going to be a Hell of an orgasm, you can feel it. It’s just there, you can practically taste it.

«You gonna come for me, babygirl?» Cobb murmured in your mouth, just too enamoured with the eagerness you kiss him with to leave it alone, even for just a breath. You nod, feverishly seeking his lips before he starts to speak again, «Come on my cock, sweetheart, let me feel it. Let me feel you».

The tension in your lower belly morphed, once again, in warmth and this is it, pleasure rolled into you as your lower muscles clamped hard several times. Somewhere into your dopamine induced haze, you heard Cobb grunt something sounding like «Oh shit, maker...» just before he fills you, his cock twitching and pulsing heat inside you. As you both tried to pick your breathing up, you let the very tip of your digits run silly patterns up and down Cobb’s shoulders and back. You could feel goosebumps rise in your path, to your delight.

When the Marshal finally lifted his head out of the crook of your neck, the gaze he laid upon you was so tender, so full of adoration that it took your breath away. So you just closed your eyes and brang his forehead to yours, not moving, only letting the feel of him all around you permeate your everything.

«Stay with me?»

You wouldn’t be mad if he couldn’t for any reason, or if he didn’t want to. Heartbroken and sick with anxiety, yes, but not mad. You would try to understand and let him be, you would downplay it as much as you can, you would -

«I don’t intend to go anywhere anytime, soon or not, sweetheart, I promise.» And you swear you felt him blowing out the restless breath caught in his lungs in sync with you. And you kiss him, or maybe he’s the one kissing you. Who cares?

«All well considered...» You know he’s messing with you, the little shit, but you still give him a betrayed glare. «I think I should go to the bathroom in search of a soft cloth to wet with warm water, don’t you?»

Oh, he wants to be like this then... Alright.

«But, Cobb...», you stutter, eyes filled to the brim with fake tears, «You promised...»

Fairplay, the Marshal took on his verbal defeat with an amused snort and a kiss to your forehead before living the bed to join the bathroom, making sure the door stayed open between the two of you.

In the morning, the little party of villagers Cobb had enlisted to help him salvage a moisture extractor that had started to sink into the sand in a farm not far from Mos Pelgo was very surprised to not find their Marshal waiting for them just outside of the cantina as soon as the first of the two suns started to rise upon the horizon, and even more to see him leaving your house, his shirt inside-out and hopping on one foot, busy to try to shove the second one into a recalcitrant boot. And you, dishevelled and wrapped in your gown, laughing on your threshold.

That, you know it would never change: putting a smile on your face, Cobb Vanth would never, ever failed to.

***

Thanks for reading

Masterpost | Ask | Guidelines | Timothy Olyphant Masterlist

[pollydoodles]

My assumption on this - from a writers perspective - is that they deliberately put in this poor excuse. And the background is almost certainly a mix of “well she’s made a pivot from being a soldier to this, and we all know which role she’s better at” and “it’s government mandated, so this is a tick box exercise at best and frankly it’s more a case of keeping a governmental eye on this guy and assessing his state of mind” rather than actual psychological help.

The aspect is that Bucky’s narrative journey in TFATWS is from a man who doesn’t believe he deserves any peace or redemption to a man who is starting to see that, only only might he deserve it but it could actually be within his grasp. Yes the therapist is terrible but I think at this point for Bucky even a good therapist would struggle to reach him.

You have to think you deserve help to be able to receive it.

It’s actually why I’m okay with the Endgame narrative for Steve - a lot of people really hate this and I do understand why, but for me Bucky is at this point where he’s recovered enough of himself to understand, remember and actively hate himself for the actions of The Winter Soldier. We all know he’s not to blame for that, but that isn’t how that sort of thing works - good people blame themselves.

He’s also aware enough of himself at this point that he knows he’s not the man that went to war in the 40s, and I think he probably thinks Steve idolises a version of Bucky that he simply can’t be anymore.

So he faces the possibility of hanging around with a man who believes in him and his goodness so strongly, who believes that he can be this man again, and I think that’s hard for Bucky. Not to mention that, if you’re in the position of castigating yourself for the actions of The Winter Soldier, to be besties with Captain America must be a challenge. You’re hating yourself for all these awful things you did, whilst hanging out with the guy who is So Good that he was fully prepared to square up to Thanos on his own with nothing but his own fists and a broken shield.

The other part is touched on in your post - Bucky has been pulled unwillingly into fight after fight after fight. He’s very clear when Steve meets him in Romania in CW that he doesn’t want to fight but is resigned to the fact that this is, somehow, always the way it goes.

And then we have Steve, a man who by his own admission can’t step away from a fight. His driving force is always The Greater Good and yes, in CW that focus is very much on Bucky.

Bucky, on the other hand.

This is a man who would be quite happy living a quiet life more or less on his own. This is probably the only peace that Bucky has really known since he escaped being TWS. He’s not on the run anymore, he’s living this uncomplicated existence, no one is asking anything more of him.

But the Steve Factor means that there’s always a chance that he’s going to be asked to suit up. And because Bucky loves Steve, because he owes Steve, he’s always going to answer that call - even if it’s really not the man he wants to be anymore, because it’s the man that Steve expects him to be.

So if Steve hesitantly raises this question, probably even as a throwaway, joking comment, about just staying in the 40s, I could see Bucky pushing that. Not only for himself, but also for Steve - the man who gives and has given everything of himself to everyone else his entire life.

Bucky feels that he is in his debt, he feels he doesn’t deserve nice things and he probably feels that Steve does. There’s also an argument that people who are so low and who feel that they are Bad People tend to push others away. It’s far more understandable that Bucky would push Steve away if you start to pick at the pieces of the little we’re shown.

By the end of TFATWS, Bucky has been shown by Sam and Sam’s family that there might actually be a place for him in this modern world. Which I think is a big deal, because on top of dealing with TWS, it’s also about the displacement he feels.

Steve is blindsided initially by the modern world, but for him it seems to be mostly disappointment about losing his chance with Peggy. He adapts quite quickly to 21st century life and he actively seeks out from others the things *they* feel are important, so he can learn more not just about the world he’s in now but also about the people he cares about.

Contrast with Bucky, whose only contribution on this point is that he likes music from the 40s. It’s a throwaway line that could be read as just some comic relief, but I think it shows far more his state of mind - he’s resentful of being here, he is still very much in a place where he can’t accept where he is because he’s still yearning for the life that was taken from him.

It’s understandable, of course, but if he is going to find a place for himself where he is, he needs to square those feelings.

I will never get over my hatred for Bucky’s “therapist” (I’m using that term extremely loosely). like, you have this man who has been tortured, traumatized, abused, and brutalized- and you don’t believe him when he says he just wants peace? He didn’t choose to go from fight to fight for eighty years- he was forced to. He didn’t even choose to enter into the military, he was drafted. He was dragged out of his rest in Wakanda and had to re-enter yet another fight. And he hasn’t known a moment of quiet since.

Fuck you, Dr. Raynor.

[icanonlybe-human]

This weekend has been a roller coaster of emotions and I’m confused and tired of it.

Friday was a bad day. I think I wrote here that day? But I honestly can’t remember. The days blend and mesh with each other and my dreams.

Saturday was a weird day. I wasn’t good but I wasn’t bad. It was so, so nice to see mum and nan, and we had a really big hug when I snuck up on them in the foyer. Mum even went to the effort of getting me an Easter goodie bag that had my favourite chips and popcorn and SO much chocolate (I’m going to share it around because it’s genuinely too much for me). But she also included a cute little “happy Easter” decorative piece, same necklaces based around the idea that onyx is for strength and amethyst is for peace. Plus a little keychain bunny which is really cute but needs surgery because it has a pretty big tear in the back.

And then Dad showed up. I had to make him give me a hug, and you could tell he was pissed (for context they got scammed in accommodation and paid 700 bucks for a place that doesn’t exist, so are trying to get their money back). He soured the room the entire time they were here, and made it really hard to talk. I think it was also hard for him being in one of the places that he called a “loony bin” for so long. I still want to have a talk with him but he hasn’t given me the chance to talk privately.

It honestly kinda sucked having them visit in the room. It’s 4 hours, Mum and dad have their heads in their phones, Nan can’t hear for shit and there’s not much we can talk about because Dad makes every conversation about him or mum asks me about how I’m “doing in [my]self” of which I have to answer awkwardly because I don’t want to give too much detail to worry her again.

It’s nice when we go out though. I think the big mood changer is that in my room, it’s obvious I’m in a ward, even if it’s a good looking one. But out there, they forget. I hide my tag and we act like we’re just out for tea in Melbourne and it’s nice. But it’s also exhausting going out into the real world, and I hate the fact that I have to act like I’m not a psych ward patient in order to have a normal conversation with my parents.

We saw Aunty N and Uncle Bo for dinner, and honestly, I wanted to lean in for a hug from Aunty N just as much as a hug from Mum. That’s never happened before. I think it’s the fact that she actually understands. Hell, she even made me realise that what I was feeling leading up to seeing my parents wasn’t excitement, it was anxiety. When Bo and N came to visit, I was excited. Basically bounced out of the lift. When AB said she’d visit, I got excited and then depressed when I realised she wasn’t coming. MC? Even though we haven’t been best friends for a long time, excited. But every other person is accepting of me being in here. Mum has been worrying herself sick, Nan didn’t really know what she was walking into and Dad? Well, he’s… him.

And tomorrow, we’re going to lunch with some ex army friends who used to add to my mental health problems back in the day. Literally pushed me to the point once where I got so overwhelmed I cried over spilt milk. They don’t believe in mental health problems, and think only people who have seen war shit should have PTSD. So I have to hide my tag, and not tell stories about my current situation, and try to avoid questions and paste a smile on and act like everything is normal.

But another part of me wants to say “fuck that and fuck them. Fuck society for making me act this way”. Who knows, I might just scream to the world that I’m a psych ward patient and laugh at their reactions. Because I have, quite frankly, had enough of this bullshit.

[jupitermelichios]

So I’ve been playing a lot of skyrim lately, because it’s video game comfort food, and I decided it was time for my Redguard Dovahkiin to settle down. (Actually I specifically just wanted to be able to adopt some of the random orphans you meet because I felt guilty about them, but you need to be married before you can do that so that there’s someone at home to take care of the kids while you’re off galivanting).

So I travelled around a bit, chatting up likely looking npcs until I found one I both liked and didn’t feel guilty about marrying (I feel bad if I marry one of the warrior adventurer types, making them be a stay at home mum) and settled on an obnoxiously cheerful argonian called Shavee because her life was frankly shit, and I thought she’d probably be good with kids.

So off I go to Riften to the Temple of Mara to arrange the wedding. I book it in for the next day, realise I didn’t bring anything nice to wear, and spend the night before the wedding robbing every house in the city in the search for something to wear. Eventually decide everyone in Riften has terrible fashion sense and break down everything I stole into raw materials and use them to craft myself an outfit and some jewellery that i’m pretty happy with. I even carefully pick out my fanciest looking sword to wear.

(don’t know why I bothered, frankly, shavee turned up wearing a shirt covered in suspicious stains and weilding a pickaxe, it’s like she doesn’t even care about this marriage)

(also for comedy purposes, bear in mind I play with survival mods that mean my character needs to eat and sleep to live, and I literally spent the entire ingame night on this and forgot to eat and drink anything either and then just downed four bowls of wolf stew right before entering the temple so I didn’t starve during the ceremony. also I discovered during the wedding that I am dying of rockjoint, which I contracted from sleeping in a pile of hay on the floor of a skeever infested cave, so even being six foot tall and jacked can’t make up for the fact that I am exhausted, running a fever, and probably covered in wolf which I spilled because my joints are slowly atrophying, and even the fanciest clothes in the world aren’t going to cover that up)

so I enter the temple, and my finance is there, and Lydia my housecarl, and some random NPCs the game thinks are my friends because I did fetch quests for them

One of the random NPCs is Lisbet. Atfter I did her fetch quest, I then did another quest in which I discovered Lisbet is secretly a cannibal and part of a demonic cult that worships the daedric prince of decay by kidnapping priests, sacrificing them, and then eating their corpses. Raw. I think the raw meat is the sticking point for me here honestly.

I ultimately decided not to sacrifice the random priest to a daedric prince in exchange for one magic ring and all the raw human I could eat, because frankly, that doesn’t sound like much of a deal to me. I was expecting there to be some kind of dialogue choice where I could nope out at the last minute, but it turns out there isn’t one, so after they drugged the priest and tied him to the altar, I just got out my sword and started swinging.

I killed most of the cult (including the town butcher, because I had brought meat from him before and was extremely pissed off that he might have been secretly feeding me humans) but a couple of them got away, which I figured was fine because they weren’t trying to kill me.

Except it turns out, if any of them escape, then every time you see them in the future there’s a random chance that they’ll fly into a violent rage and try and murder you.

Lisbet is at my wedding. Lisbet decides that clearly me marrying this random argonian woman with two lines of dialogue is the happiest day of my life, and she cannot allow me that happiness, when I’ve taken so much from her.

So she tries to kill me. Only she can’t, because I’m stuck in a pre-rendered wedding animation, and also she’s sitting next to Lydia, my faithful retainer and owner of a really big axe.

It also turns out that Lisbet is essential, meaning she can be knocked unconcious but not actually killed because she’s needed for some quest or other. And the minute she wakes up from unconciousness, she tries to kill me again, so Lydia knocks her unconcious again, and I’m stuck, I can’t move, because I’m supposed to be in the wedding animation.

Except Shavee has, not unreasonably, see all this and decided that she doesn’t like me enough to risk getting murdered, and has done a runner, leaving me at the altar, but more importantly, leaving me trapped in a broken pre-rendered animation, so all I can do is stand there at the altar, staring at the space where my fiance was supposed to be, listening to the sounds of Lydia trying and failing to beat a cannibal to death behind me.

Okay, I think, clearly this wedding isn’t going to happen, I’m going to go for the registry office option and complete the wedding using the dev commands. I do this. The priest gives me a wedding ring, and I can finally move again. I chase after Shavee, who has an impressive turn of speed on her, and eventually catch up right by the city gates. I try to talk to her.

Apparently using the console has completed the wedding for me, but not for her, because she still only has the same 2 lines of dialogue she usually has.

Clearly this is working, I can’t leave my kids with someone who can only say 2 things and doesn’t even know she’s their mum, that’s irresponsible.

I try loading from inside the temple. I get the same problem.

Eventually I figure out that I need to use the dev controls to disable Lisbet’s entire existence in the universe.

Shavee and me get married. As the priest reads the vows, I stare at Shavee and wonder why she couldn’t even be bothered to put on a clean shirt. I wonder what kind of mother she’ll be.

Once the ceremony is over, and I’m happily married to the dirty green lizard of my dreams, and we’ve agreed that until I can make her recognise my extremely nice modded house exists I will share her single bed in the unheated flophouse in Windhelm she calls home, I re-enable Lisbet, because I’m worried I’ll forget if I leave it too long.

Fun fact about skyrim, it loads in quite a lot of npcs and objects by dropping them from the sky. I have no idea why this is the case, but it’s objectively the funniest way to load in objects.

I re-enable Lisbet. She falls from the sky, clips through the roof of the temple, and lands in the pew beside Lydia, stands up, draws a knife, and is immedately beaten unconcious.

I no longer care, because Shavee now has all the exciting new spouse-only romantic dialogue options like “Could you cook something for me” and “have you made any money lately”, and I know she’ll be a great mother.

I limp to the door of the temple, while around me the guests not involved in the Lydia-Lisbet murder cycle scream and duck for cover.

I open the door to the temple, immediately collapse and ragdoll down the steps, which is how I discover I am dying of rockjoint.

I limp to the orphanage down the street, adopt two kids, and then finally remember that I’m carrying garlic bread, which as we all know, cures all known illnesses.

When I emerge back into the street, full of the joys of motherhood and garlic bread, I find the town in disaray. Lydia is chasing Lisbet through the streets with an axe and a dragon is circling overhead, burning npcs to death. People are running for shelter, screaming, while the guards try to take down an entire dragon using only the worst bows and arrows in the game.

I decide that as a parent, I have to think of my own safety first and leave them to it.

I head out of the city, intent on returning home and figuring out why Shavee refuses to move in with me. A man hanging around the stables challenges me to a boxing match. For want of anything better to do, I agree.

Halfway through the fight he dodges at the wrong moment and I punch one of his horses in the head.

Two guards attack me while I desperately try to surrender. My kids will miss me, but I’m prepared to go to jail for my horse crimes, I’m an honest citizen. Also my horse crimes seem somewhat less important than the dragon.

The guards refuse to accept my surrender. I am stabbed to death. As I collapse in front of the indifferent horse, Lisbet exits the city, followed by Lydia. The last thing I see before I die is Lydia swinging her axe at Lisbet’s face.

[velvethopewrites]

My apologies for missing last week (for the two people reading these, lol) but my cat was having health issues and I was rather stressed out. I’m still stressed but am now coping with fic. So, without further adieu:

This week’s fic is a bit of tear-jerker, which aligns with my nihilistic mood. But have no fear, I would never rec something that doesn’t deliver on the feels (both sad and happy!).

Paper Moon by Robotsnchicks (@robotsnchicks )

Summary:

By the time he hits thirty-three, Dean's given up on the apple pie life, accepting that a serious relationship isn't in the cards for him. But when he meets Cas everything falls into place. Now he’s happily married, hopelessly in love, and they’re about to buy their first home together. It almost feels too good to be true.

It turns out it is. His world comes crashing down when he wakes to find that he’s been a subject in a virtual reality simulation gone wrong. All the years he thought he spent with Cas were actually experienced in less than a week. And when he gets out, Cas is nowhere to be found and nobody has heard of him. Ignoring the possibility that Cas may not be real, Dean sets out to find him and convince him that it’s worth giving Dean — and their relationship — a shot in the real world.

To say this fic has pining is an understatement (basically, that is the story’s entire raison d’etre). And oh, how utterly delicious it is.

To be ripped out of his dream life - a stable relationship with a fantastic man, Dean, of course, suffers quite a bit. He doesn’t believe it was all fake at first and really doesn’t believe Cas doesn’t exist - there’s just no way his husband could have been computer generated. Thus begins Dean’s hunt - to find the real Cas out in the real world, no matter what.

What follows is a tale that will wring your heart out and leave it a crushed, ruined thing- for Castiel does exist, but his life is nothing like his virtual reality counterpart. He also doesn’t remember a damn thing about his time plugged in - doesn’t recognize Dean and definitely doesn’t remember being married. It’s truly a heartbreaking moment when Dean ‘finds’ Cas for the first time. I was sobbing, of course (but see previous posts about me being a huge wet noodle). But, as with all things, it does start to get better. Eventually.

And yet, you have the start of something beautiful only for it to get smashed back down to the beginning again. And Dean, he’s so…so determined to have Cas in his life, in any way…that he swallows down his desire for the other man - his husband- so as not to scare Cas away with his intensity and neediness. It’s a beautiful character study of a Dean that knows what he wants, knows he *can* have a successful relationship with another man and yet he is denied the intimacy he craves all because Cas doesn’t know him and who, quite frankly, is freaked out by the entire idea.

The trials and tribulations of two men getting to know each other again - for real this time - is handled beautifully by the author. And yes, sometimes you do want to strangle Cas for his reticence, because Dean hurts oh so much, but damn, when that connection is finally realized, oh, it’s so sweet and I’m pretty sure I cried for not only Dean and Cas but for myself as well. This author takes you on a flippin’ journey. (Grab some gatorade and granola bars when you go, you’ll need to restock the energy.)

Special mentions to a great cameo by Charlie and to Sam for being a good brother to a broken-hearted Dean. So if pining, Dean and Cas stumbling around together trying to figure their shit out is up your alley, give Paper Moon a read. Just make sure you have those tissues handy, you’re gonna need them! Four out of Five Bees:

🐝🐝🐝🐝

(Also, there’s art with the fic! 😏)

omg it’s FAN FICTION FRIDAY

Reblog and promote a fic of yours <3

[seijorhi]

Choke.

another soulmate au nobody asked for :)

Akaashi Keiji x female reader x Bokuto Koutarou

TW dub-con, implied future non-con

It wasn’t a good day to begin with.

You’re late, rushing through the busy campus hallways to make it to an exam that quite frankly you’re at least 70% sure you’re going to fail, mostly because instead of cramming last night you’d been… otherwise occupied with your boyfriend.

And you really, really just want this whole thing to just be over with already.

With your nose stuck in your textbook, frantically pouring over your notes right up until the very last second, it’s hardly a surprise that you don’t see the two of them rushing down the hallway in the opposite direction until you’re quite literally colliding with the taller of the pair – the broad shouldered one.

Your notes go flying, the last of your coffee too and for one split second, you’re pretty positive that you’re gonna end up flat on your ass with a little more than some bruised pride. But just as you’re about to hit the ground, not one but two hands reach for you, catch you, and the very second they do, you feel it:

A flash of guilt and momentary alarm, embarrassment, you think, and chagrin, each emotion hitting you like a sledgehammer, overwhelming you, one after the other in a dizzying blur that’s distinctly other, and then–

Shock.

Dawning surprise. 

A rush of something warm, adoring, a happiness so bright and blinding that it makes you physically jerk backwards, almost slamming your head against the wall in the process. And two pairs of eyes – one a deep, luminous gold, the other a cool, gunmetal blue – stare at you in wide eyed wonder a split millisecond before you wrench yourself free, gasping. 

The moment their grip falters, the torrent stops. You can breathe.

Blessed silence, save for the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Everything fades out around you – the students and lecturers alike bustling through the busy hallway, the humming drone of chatter that’s nearly deafening. Nothing exists but the three of you; caught in your little bubble.

And it’s dread, you think, that seeps through your blood as you stare at them. 

They’re both handsome, albeit in their own ways. The taller of the two – the one who’d almost barrelled you over – looks like he could probably bench press you without breaking a sweat. His shirt isn’t exactly clinging to him, but you can see the hints of well defined muscles beneath, and the size of his biceps alone are enough to make your heart skip a beat and your mouth dry up a little. With rippling muscles, spiky black and silver hair, a strong jawline and those round, golden eyes, he looks like a modern day adonis. 

His friend might’ve been shorter, his build leaner, but with his softer features, pretty eyes and dark hair, you think he’s perhaps the prettiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. From the fineness of his nose to the gentle curve of his lips and his long, dark sweeping eyelashes, he reminds you of those white marble statues you’ve seen before in museums and art galleries– a beauty so divine, so perfect – so devastating – that it steals your breath a little.

And they’re both watching you, frozen entirely. Smiling in breathless delight, as if they can’t quite believe it either.

Soulmates. 

You’ve spent your whole life wondering what it would be like, experiencing somebody else’s emotions. Studies have been done and countless books and articles written about the bond between soulmates; the intimacy of sharing emotions through touch, but nobody really knows why or how it happens.  

And for some, it’s a subtle thing. A suggestion, a whisper against their own consciousness, easily brushed aside. Others feel it stronger. 

For you, it was like drowning. Choking under the sudden, intense barrage of feelings that weren’t yours. Maybe it’s because there’s two of them – and that much at least you’re sure of. You don’t have the words to explain it, but they’d felt separate somehow, distinctive from one another – kind of like fingerprints, you suppose.

There’s no denying the bond, no denying that they’re both your soulmates, and all you can think of is that you don’t want it. Not here, not now. Not them.

The dark haired one seems to realise quicker than his friend that you’re not reacting how you’re supposed to, you’re just standing there, rigid and tense, gaping at them. And the slight smile that graced his perfect lips starts to waver, his brows drawing together when finally his friend cottons on.

He reaches for you, the beginnings of a pout taking shape on his face, and you move without even thinking, jerking out of reach with a sharp breath. His hand hangs outstretched for a beat too long, a noise like a kicked puppy leaving his lips as he realises that you’re flinching away from him; away from your soulmate. He looks heartbroken, and he’s yet to utter a single word. 

You don’t give him a chance. You’re not some cold, unfeeling beast; there’s a twinge in your heart, a heaviness that’s far too close to guilt settling in your stomach, but you just can’t. And with shaking hands you bend over and hastily grab up your things, forcing yourself not to meet their confused, hurt stares when you right yourself. 

“I– I’m sorry,” you murmur, and before either one of them can try to stop you, you disappear into the crowd, racing for your exam. 

—

The lights are on when you make it back home, the familiar, comforting scent of home cooked food filling your apartment.

“Hey, babe,” your boyfriend calls out as you wearily drop your purse by the door and kick out of your shoes. His back’s to you, attention fixed on the simmering saucepan on the stovetop, but he glances over his shoulder as he continues, “How’d your exam go?”

And you can’t help it, you burst into tears.

Painful, heaving sobs that might’ve had you collapsing onto the floor if he hadn’t swept across the room to snatch you up into his arms. “That bad, huh?” Kuguri jokes, but the words sound hollow.

“I found them,” you mutter into his chest, and the way he stiffens, his grip tightening for just a moment has your heart breaking all over again. 

Kuguri doesn’t say much as he leads you to the couch, he just lets you talk. It’s almost worse, you think, the way he doesn’t react. 

Because you both knew this was coming at some point. For months you’ve tried to convince yourself that you could feel him when you were together.

You felt his love when he held you, right?

Happy when he was happy?

But you’d known, both of you, that as much as you wished it otherwise, he wasn’t your soulmate, and you weren’t his. And whether it was today or six months down the line, this was always going to happen.

“You don’t have to…” you trail off, searching his eyes desperately for anything other than the gentle resignation lingering there. “I love you.”

He smiles at that, cups your cheek in his hand and brushes away the stray tear that spills. “I know you do, but–” it’s not enough. “They’re your soulmates. Don’t you think they deserve a chance to make you happy?”

He’s gone when you wake the next morning.

—

In a university of thousands, a sprawling city campus, you honestly believe that in spite of everything, you probably won’t see them again. They don’t know your name, or what you study, you don’t live in the dorms like some of the other students; the chances of just randomly bumping into them again are slim, soulmates or no.

Of course, there are facebook groups and pages set up to reconnect lost soulmates, but you’d have to actually want to find them to try something like that.

(Part of you wonders whether they’ve tried)

The universe has a sense of humour, it seems, because when your paths cross next, it’s not at uni, it’s at the little corner store a few blocks down from your apartment. 

At 2am in the morning. 

And you’re staring intently at the freezer, mentally weighing up exactly what kind of ice cream you need to sate your craving when you hear the sharp intake of breath behind you.

“Holy crap, you’re here.”

It’s stupid, you think, the way your stomach flutters when you turn to find him staring in wide eyed wonder; the taller one, with the spiky hair and those impossibly wide, honey eyes.

He’s smiling, his entire face lit up like a christmas tree at the sight of you. As if you hadn’t run off without so much as an acknowledgement the last time you’d met. As if seeing you here, looking like shit – makeup free and dressed in your old favourite sweats – is the absolute best thing that could have happened.

And when your cheeks grow hot, you’re not entirely sure if it’s embarrassment over the way you look, the fact that he’s caught you buying ice cream that you fully intend to let melt just a little bit before polishing off at two in the morning, or if it’s shame over how badly you’d reacted the last time you’d seen him.

But if he notices your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it, grinning widely as he calls back over his shoulder, “Akaashi!”

You still haven’t uttered a peep, haven’t moved. Just like last time you’re caught feeling like a kid with their hand stuck in the cookie jar as your other soulmate rounds the corner, his attention fixed on the ingredients list of the rice cracker snacks in his hands, a basket full of groceries tucked into the crook of his elbow.

“Bokuto, I was just around the corner, there’s no need to shout.”

Pretty steel blue eyes flicker up for a split second, then quickly do a double take as he realises that it’s you – his errant soulmate, standing struck dumb, here of all places. “Oh.”

Oh. 

Akaashi eyes you for a moment, and you watch as his throat bobs unsteadily, but just as with Bokuto, he can’t seem to help the smile that creeps across his face. It’s softer than his friend’s, not so blinding but warm nonetheless. Genuine. There’s no animosity there, and it should put you at ease – they don’t seem to blame you, at least. 

It should, but it doesn’t. 

Even now, there’s a little voice in your head urging you to forget your late night cravings, turn tail and run. Nevermind that they’d likely just follow you, much less that you’d look like an absolute fucking idiot, fleeing from your soulmates who so far have done nothing wrong.

It’s not supposed to be this awkward, right? It’s not supposed to be difficult, but even when they’re smiling at you, there’s a tension that digs its claws into you and refuses to relent. Your heart thumps unevenly, like a scared little bunny caught in a trap and the wolves are circling.

If it’s normal, then your parents and every other soulmated pair you’ve ever met certainly kept it to themselves. Maybe it’s the guilt, you think. Maybe you’re just being overdramatic. They’re your soulmates, right? They probably just want to talk, to get to know you, and right now you’re the one being standoffish and rude. 

It occurs to you then that you still haven’t spoken, and they’re both staring at you somewhat expectantly. You really are fucking this up, aren’t you?

“H-hi,” you manage to muster, forcing yourself to smile back. Tiny and timidly, perhaps, but it’s a smile. 

It seems to work, because Bokuto positively beams at you and Akaashi sets down his basket to slide in closer, a pleased little hum escaping his throat. 

Aside from the faint sound of the radio playing in the background and the cashier casually flicking through a magazine up at the register, the store is quiet. It’s just the three of you, except this time there really is no running off and disappearing into the crowd. Which is fine, you need to face them sooner or later, right?

Give them a chance?

Otherwise everything else, all that heartbreak and the lonely nights since will have been all for nothing. So you swallow tightly, take a soft, steadying breath, and press on.

“I, um… I’m sorry about last time. You know with… everything,” you finish lamely, mentally cringing at the sheer awkwardness of it. “I had an exam.”

But again, your soulmates don’t seem to take it personally, the darker haired one (Akaashi, your brain helpfully supplies) nodding slightly. 

“It’s okay. You’re here now.” He has a nice voice, calming and smooth, and though the words seem to carry a different weight you find yourself nodding along with him. You can do this, you can make an effort.

This is fine.

You swallow again, tongue darting out to wet your lips, “I’m Y/N,” you introduce, clutching just a little bit tighter at the handles of your own shopping basket.

You don’t extend a hand, nor try to go in for a hug, but standing there rigidly feels wrong too. They’re strangers, yes, but they’re also not, and you don’t quite know how to act around somebody like that, somebody you’re supposedly fated for but know nothing about. All you know is that the last time they touched you, it was too much. It hurt. And even as you catch sight of the slightly disheartened expression on Bokuto’s face, you’re hesitant to put yourself through it again.

“It’s pretty,” Akaashi compliments, and there’s a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks as he says it. “Suits you.”

Your own probably aren’t much better, with the blood that rushes to your face. You drop your gaze a little, nibbling on your bottom lip, “O-oh, uh… thank you.”

When you glance back up to Bokuto, you find him staring at you again, not with the same hurt expression as before, but something akin to wonder. He seems speechless, in awe of your flustered state, and you wonder how he can bounce that quickly from emotion to emotion without giving himself whiplash. But it seems like your attention is just the thing he needs to pull himself out of it, because he closes his gaping mouth and grins again.

“Y/N,” he repeats, like he’s testing it out, rolling your name over his tongue. “You probably heard, but I’m Bokuto– you can call me Koutarou, though.” 

There’s a beat of silence, and he’s quick to add, “And that’s Akaashi.”

“Keiji,” Akaashi corrects, shooting you another gentle smile. 

First names. It makes sense, you suppose, but the familiarity of it all still doesn’t sit quite right with you. But now that introductions are out of the way, you don't have a clue what you’re supposed to say now - ‘so, soulmates; crazy, huh?’ doesn’t exactly feel appropriate, given the circumstances.

You’re distinctly aware that it’s the middle of the night and you’re at a convenience store and while this might not be the worst time to run into your soulmates again, it’s not far off. 

Maybe that’s not a bad thing, though, because at least it kind of gives you an out. Shifting your weight from one foot to another, you clear your throat, “I hope you guys don’t think I’m being rude or anything, but it is kinda late…” you trail off, hoping they’ll pick up what you’re putting down.

And while Bokuto’s brow furrows, Akaashi at least has the decency to look a little abashed. “Yeah, no, of course. We’re just so… we’re glad we ran into you again.”

 Your cheeks heat again, and to save yourself from having to meet their gazes head on, you quickly spin around, open the freezer door and grab the first pint ice cream that you see. “I just came for this,” you laugh, fighting back a wince at how hollow and fake it all sounds. 

“Here,” Bokuto says, and before you can react he’s snatching it from your grip (thankfully keeping his hand from brushing against yours) and places it atop the basket in Akaashi’s arms. “Our treat.”

He beams at you, and you’re honestly too stunned to reply. You don’t really want him paying for it, but if it gets you out of this awkward encounter any quicker, you’ll swallow down your protests and let it go. 

And so you trail meekly after the two of them as they head to the cashier, and when Akaashi passes you the bag you’re so careful to avoid his touch, a fact he notes with the slightest of frowns, but he doesn’t comment on it. 

“It’s late,” he says instead as the three of you exit into the brisk night air. And then those gunmetal eyes are on you, studying you for a moment. You realise what he’s about to say the moment he opens his mouth again, “Can we walk you home? Or to the bus stop at least?”

Your stomach lurches at the thought of it, of two veritable strangers knowing where you live, but–

He’s not wrong, exactly. It is late, and in hindsight it was probably stupid for you to have come out at this time of the night alone in the first place, whether it was a safe neighbourhood or not. And they’re not strangers, they’re your soulmates.

You have to try. 

So you nod. ‘It’s just down the road,” you murmur, but as the two of them fall into step either side of you, sharing a distinctly satisfied look between themselves, you think that it wouldn’t have mattered how far it was. They would have walked with you anywhere.

Yet their expressions of mild surprise (disappointment, maybe?) when you stop them less than five minutes later in front of your apartment block almost makes you laugh. “This is me.”

Bokuto eyes the building for just a moment before his attention returns to you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Lie, that little voice inside your head urges, but you force yourself to ignore it. You have to try. “Uh, not much, I guess…”

Even as you say the words, your hands tighten on your bag, twisting nervously – a sign they either don’t read or wilfully ignore as Bokuto brightens up once again.

“Awesome! Wanna swing by ours to chill for a little bit?”

Like a date, you think as your gaze flickers between the two. Yet Akaashi’s watching you just as intently, those dark eyes far more inscrutable than Bokuto’s, which doesn’t help ease the uncomfortable feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach. There’s really no reason for you to say no, no polite way for you to turn them down. They’re your soulmates, you’re supposed to want this. “Um…”

“Or we can come here, if you want? Or head into the city and do something there, maybe go see a movie or something? Whatever you’d prefer.”

“No!” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them, the idea of the two of them in your apartment, your home just feels like… too much. “No,” you repeat again, quieter, forcing your features to soften into a hesitant smile. “Your place is good.”

That way you can leave if it all gets to be too much. It’s just a casual hang out. It’ll be fine. 

Both of them seem to relax at your agreement, and you quickly take out your phone to grab Akaashi’s number – sending him a message so he has your number too.

“Perfect,” he says, his voice a purr that sends a ripple of something running down your spine. “I’ll text you the address in the morning.”

You smile at both of them, thanking them again for the ice cream and for walking back with you, even if it was only a few hundred metres. And you think you’re in the clear as you start walking up the steps, trying to balance your keys, your phone and your bags when the sound of your name being called makes you turn around.

Bokuto’s there, a step behind you, and before you can even so much as blink he’s grabbing at your hand, tugging you forward and kissing you.

Just like last time, it’s instantaneous and overwhelming. You feel it all – his giddy excitement, the stirrings of something deeper, less innocent as he cradles your body to his.

And the love. 

Oh god. It’s not mere affection, not some fleeting, superficial thing. It pours over you in unrelenting waves, crushing you under the force of it – you can’t even feel his tongue moving against yours, or the way he sucks on your bottom lip, groaning quietly.

You can’t breathe, can’t think. It’s too much, too much, too strong, too sudden, you can’t BREATHE.

Your trembling hands finds his shoulders, and as your head spins, nausea churning in your gut you don’t waste a second, shoving him away from you with enough force that he actually stumbles back a little.

Though you’ll admit it’s probably more from shock than any strength you actually possess. 

And you don’t dare look to Akaashi as tears fill your eyes, a heaving gasp leaving your lips. Bokuto’s eyes are wide, his mouth agape; he looks confused more than horrified as you stumble back, almost tripping over the last step.

“D-don’t touch me,” you gasp, “please.”

There’s pain in his eyes as your tears well up and spill over and you choke back another sob, but you don’t give him a chance to say anything else. Limbs trembling, you force yourself upright, clutching at the keys in your fist as you skitter towards the door.

You hear one of them, Akaashi you think, calling out your name, but you don’t pause, don’t look back – throwing open the lobby door and slamming it shut behind you. 

And your heart pounds as you climb the steps two at a time, and it’s only once you're in the safety of your own apartment, with the door shut and firmly locked that you allow yourself to breathe. You realise distantly that at some point – probably on the steps outside – you dropped the ice cream they’d bought for you, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. The first time you realise was an accident, they had no way of knowing you were their soulmate, much less how you’d react when they’d touched you. But that–

That wasn’t right.

It wasn’t normal.

Those feelings, that love, you’ve never experienced anything like it, and yet it’s left you feeling filthy; tainted. Scared. It was too much; boundless and abundant, the kind of love that devours and chokes, selfishly strangling everything in its environment to thrive. Overpowering and solely directed at you. How was it supposed to do anything but terrify you. And how can he possibly believe that he loves you like that already?

Soulmates or not, you don’t know him!

This– this whole thing is wrong.

You can’t stop yourself from checking the locks on your apartment another three times before you slip under the covers of your bed, trying to will sleep to find you.

On the nightstand beside you, your phone vibrates, but you refuse to check it, knowing full well that it’s them.

It doesn’t stop.

And with every new notification your blood pressure climbs, and there’s a part of you that’s telling you you have no reason to be reacting like this – whatever happened on those steps, it’s not like they’re going to hurt you.

It was an accident, a misunderstanding.

But they’re still blowing your phone up with notifications and they know where you live and no matter what you tell yourself, you can’t seem to quell the disquiet that eats away at you.

And it’s a cruel thing to do, you know it is, but you don’t know what else to do as you finally give in, swiping your phone up and searching for his contact. The phone rings once, twice, three times and there’s a sinking feeling in your chest when you realise he’s not going to pick up–

“Hello?” Kuguri’s voice is groggy, heavy with sleep and you can almost picture him, sitting up in bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes, running a hand through his messy bed hair. “Fuck, do you know what time it is, Y/N? Why’re you calling me so late?”

There’s a pause, pregnant and heavy, and the only sound that leaves you is the soft hitch in your breath.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, quieter this time, an edge of worry in his tone.

You haven’t spoken to him in weeks, since he’d left without a word and broke your heart, but he’s the only one you want to talk to right now.  

“I-I’m sorry for calling,” you begin, sniffling back your tears. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

—

When you drag yourself out of bed only a few short hours later, your body’s still crying out for a little more sleep, but you can’t afford to indulge.

Like you’d planned, you send the message first thing, ignoring the flood of unread texts above – both from Akaashi and an unknown number you can only assume is Bokuto’s.

I’m sorry about last night, just need some space. 

You have nothing to be sorry for – even if it wasn’t for the frankly unsettling emotions you’d felt, Bokuto’d still kissed you without your permission. But Kuguri said it was better that way – they were less likely to freak out and panic or whatever. You hadn’t questioned it too much, it didn’t really matter what you said so long as they knew you didn’t want them anywhere near you… at least until you figured this whole thing out. And you trusted Kuguri on this.

God knows why he’d even answered your call in the first place, but you’re impossibly glad that he did. Gladder still that he hadn’t hung up on you the moment he’d realised why you were calling.

You scoff down a quick breakfast, before hopping into the shower. The scalding water’s a welcome relief, waking you up more than your coffee had and allowing you the space to think.

Kuguri’s got errands to run this morning, but he’d said you were welcome to stop by his place anytime. He’d insisted on it actually, telling you in no uncertain terms to pack an overnight bag.

‘Look, I’m probably being an overprotective asshole, alright, but I don’t want you there by yourself, so either you come here or I’m coming over there.’

And the thought that you’d need somebody there to protect you, that either one of your soulmates would do anything–

But it’s not so much about them, you think, but you. You’d been a mess when you’d called him, and despite how everything had gone down, Kuguri still cared about you – you can’t just turn those feelings off overnight – is it any wonder that you’d worried him?

Distantly, you register your phone going off a few more times as you busy yourself in washing your hair. You assume it’s Kuguri checking up on you, making sure that you’re alright – you pay it no mind, humming quietly as you reach for your conditioner.

And by the time you slip from your bathroom, wrapped in a big, fluffy towel it’s probably closer to mid-morning than you’d like. You don’t bother blow drying your hair or putting on makeup, instead heading to your room to get dressed and grab some clothes to take to Kuguri’s.

Except there’s a knocking at the door that stops you in your tracks.

You hadn’t heard the buzzer for the building’s main door go off, which meant that it was probably just your landlord stopping by, or one of your neighbours. You know the little girl who lives in the apartment next to yours likes to bake with her dad and sometimes drops off freshly made cookies and treats, so you hastily throw on enough clothes to pass as decent. 

“Coming,” you sing out, racing across the room to reach the door. 

Except when you throw it open, it’s not one of your neighbours standing out in your hallway, nor is it your elderly landlord. 

Akaashi and Bokuto crowd the empty space; Bokuto grinning widely, Akaashi’s dark eyes fixed on yours. 

“You weren’t answering your phone,” he murmurs, a faint frown tugging at his features as studies your face. “We were worried about you.”

And there’s so many things wrong with the fact that they’re here; least of all being how the hell they got into the building to begin with, but you can’t afford to think of any of that. You simply need to get them out of here without causing a fuss. Now.

They’re still your soulmates, you remind yourself as your heart rate picks up. They won’t do anything to hurt you. 

“I-I told you I needed space, please go,” you mutter, clutching so tightly at the edge of the door that your knuckles turn white. “Please,” you beg again when neither of them make a move to leave.

“I told you, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto says, his smile slipping in favour of a wounded pout, “She’s afraid of us. Her soulmates.”

And you don’t know what compels you to shake your head instead of just slamming the door in their faces, “N-no, I just–”

“She’s just skittish,” Akaashi interrupts, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Overwhelmed – this is all new to her. It’s okay, princess,” he says, addressing you this time with a teasing little smirk, “We’ll be gentle, okay? We’re going to take good care of you.”

It’s the final blow to your tentative politeness. As panic sinks its teeth into you, you skitter backwards, scrambling to shut the front door before they can get in–

Bokuto’s faster. They both are.

Stronger, too. 

[calummss]

Time | Gilbert Blythe

masterlist

summary: time can fix a lot of things if you let it

words: 1.5K

requested by: anon

It’s been six months since Gilbert Blythe left. Six months without the boy you love so dearly. Six months without your friend. Gilbert had made short notice plans only days after his father’s funeral. When John Blythe died it felt like a never ending fog swept across Avonlea. You remember Mr. Blythe from your childhood. He was a very kind man that took good care of you, so when the news of his passing had arrived at your parent’s house you felt a heavy pit in your stomach. You were saddened by his death and couldn’t imagine what Gilbert was going through and sent him a pie the same day, knowing he would have a hard time preparing food for himself. It has been months since you attended the funeral and you remember it like it was yesterday.

‘Y/N dear, make sure to wear your black straw hat.’ your mother called up to your room.

You grabbed your hat and gently placed it on your head not wanting to mess up your curls. You took one last look in your mirror and hurried downstairs to see your father, mother and younger brother waiting for you. You quickly grabbed your shoes and tied them up.

‘I sure hope Gilbert’s okay,’ you spoke into the room feeling uneasy about the next couple of hours.

‘You’ll be able to see for yourself once we arrive.’ your mother said, adjusting your hat. She placed her hands and your shoulder and smiled.

‘Come one now, the carriage is waiting.’ your father announced and opened the door to reveal a coat of snow that painted the countryside. You stomped through the snow and sat yourself to the far left of the carriage as your mother, father and brother followed. The coachman lightly whipped the horse and you were on your way. When you arrived at the Blythe’s family burial site you saw the carriage that pulled Mr. Blythe’s casket towards the hole. You also saw Gilbert leading the line of people. You saw the pain in his eyes. His sparkly brown eyes were now dull, and glossed with his salty tears. His cheerful smile with those dimples you so loved, disappeared and weren’t to be seen. His posture was slouched and his head hanging from his shoulders on a thread. Your family and you respectfully walked up to the crowd that was gathered for a prayer in honour of his father. You saw Anne, Diana, Ruby, Jane, Tillie and Josie, all spread out throughout the crowd. You locked eyes with Anne and gave her a warm quick smile before turning away. When the service was over everyone gathered at the Gilbert House for some tea and conversation. You stood next to your mother, plate in your hands but you weren’t in the mood to eat. You set it aside and walked around the house to look for Gilbert. He probably needed someone to talk to. Once you searched around the house and almost gave up, you saw him outside in the front yard. You grabbed your coat, scarf and hat and rushed down the front steps.

‘Gilbert!’ you yelled after him.

Gilbert turned around with a surprised face, yet his eyes still carried his sadness within.

‘Are you leaving?’ you pushed your hands deeper into your pockets.

‘I can’t stand being in that house. Everyone wants to comfort me but I just want to be left alone.’ he confessed.

His hat draped over his forehead making it hard to make out his facial expression.

‘Where are you going?’ you asked him as he didn’t seem to stop walking.

‘I don’t know, the lake perhaps.’

‘May I join?’

He nodded and continued to look straight ahead.

After some time you arrived at the small lake in the forest you always went to after school in the summer. Everyone would meet up to bathe in the sun kissed water but everyone was happy and enjoying themselves. Today’s occasion was the opposite. You sat on a tree trunk and pulled your gloves from your pockets. Gilbert sat next to you and stared at the frozen water. He found comfort among the empty woods. You felt like giving him alone time and told him that you were going back to the house. That was the last time you saw Gilbert. Days after he packed his things and left on a ship. He left a note with a few details so that Avonlea wouldn’t erupt in fear of a murder or some sort.

During the first three months you would leave letters at Gilbert’s house in case he came back unannounced; just like he left, but you stopped soon after, after you realised that he wouldn’t be coming back for a long time.

You were peacefully sleeping in your bed when a loud thud awoke you. Your eyes were squinted due to the sun rays shining on your face. You got out of bed and started to get ready. Anne would be arriving any minute now. You always walked to school together. It was safer and more fun. When you rushed out of the door you saw Anne waiting on your doorsteps with an extra bottle of milk. You walked to school and noticed a large crowd gathered in front of the doors. Noticing the rest of the girl you walked up to them to ask what was going on.

‘Ruby!’ you called out and saw her spin around with a big smile on her face. ‘What’s going on?’

‘It’s Gilbert!’ she cheered loudly.

Your eyes went wide as you stared back at Anne. She had the same look painted across her face.

‘What do you mean ‘Gilbert’?

‘My uncle who works at The White Sands Hotel said that Gilbert passed through the place. Supposedly he was working on a ship!’ Ruby’s face was gleaming with joy. ‘He was covered in coal ashes.’

‘Is, Is Gilbert here? At school?’ you asked intriguingly.

‘I haven’t been inside but I don’t believe so. He’s probably at home.’ Diana chimed in.

You had to see him. You just had to. Knowing he was back and not knowing if he’d part again you ran back towards the forest. You made your way through the foggy woods and ran up to Gilbert’s house. You went up to the door and knocked on the door like your life depended on it. A few seconds later a man, whom you’ve never seen before opened the door.

‘Hello, who are you.’ he said in a strong accent.

‘Is Gilbert here?’

‘Yes, he is.’ the man smiled at you before he shouted at the top of his lungs. ‘Gilbert! There’s a girl wanting to talk to you.’

‘I’ll just come in.’ you smiled before slipping through the door.

‘Y/N?’ Gilbert sounded surprised. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘What are you doing here?’ mimicked him.

‘It’s good to see you.’

Gilbert seemed happier than the last time you saw him. His teary eyes were now filled with joy. He seemed...okay, and you didn’t want to take that away from him but he couldn’t just show up and pretend like nothing happened.

‘Why did you leave?’

Gilbert’s back stiffened and shifted onto his other leg. He looked down at the floor not making eye contact with you.

‘Can you at least look at me.’ a hint of disappointment and annoyance coating your words.

‘I needed to get away from here.’

‘You left without a goodbye and you left without telling anyone. Do you know what it feels like? To see your friend leave you behind?’ you raised your voice. ‘You could’ve at least told me. I didn’t know when you were coming back. I thought you left me!’

‘Y/N, I’m sorry but I wasn’t in a good headspace and needed distance from this god forsaken town.’ he stormed past you. The man that had answered the door was long gone. Only the presence of the two of you filled the cold house.

‘Distance from me?’

‘I never said that.’ his irritated voice erupted from the back of the pantry.

‘Sounds like it to me!’ you yelled back, angrily stomping after him.

‘Why are you picking a fight with me, Y/N.?’

‘A fight?’ you stared at him in disbelief. ‘Picking a fight with you? I came over because Ruby was swooning over your return and I came here to make sure it was true. To-see-if -my-friend-who-left-me-without-a-trace-of his-existence-came-back!’ you snapped in one breath.

You had enough and quite frankly didn’t know what to do anymore. The person you loved so dearly had hurt you in a way that you couldn’t understand. Gilbert sat down at his wooden table and stared at you for a few seconds before talking.

‘What can I do?’ he said.

‘What can you do? I don’t know, what can you?’

‘Y/N, I’m serious. I don’t want this friendship to end over this.’

‘You think I want this? I’m just upset that you left me if you hadn’t noticed.’

‘Please tell me what I can do.’ he pleaded out.

He stood up and took your hands into his. His brown eyes stared into your as your breath hitched.

‘I-I don’t know.’ you confess as you slid your hands out of his and turned your back towards him. ‘Nothing can fix this except time.’

You walked towards the door looking back at Gilbert once more.

‘Time can fix a lot of things if you let it.’

[7ban-sama]

all that being said, THIS hanako, is so interesting to me. wishing nene goodbye at the end of the day...

here he is, being all big grin ^^ ...

but of course, the purpose of this page/these panels is to show us a scene from hanako’s POV, where he is not actually happy as he wishes Nene goodbye at the end of the day. it’s so complicated, isn’t it...? this must be when Hanako is the most aware of how he just isn’t ‘human’ anymore, when he has to see Nene off and watch her return to her house. her home, her parents, her bedroom, her rituals. this is the ‘life’ Nene currently has, and she wants a life beyond it. meanwhile, Hanako has ‘no life’, his entire existence is here at the school. 

from his perspective, he only exists to atone and to suffer. and well, you could see how this psyche permeates how he perceives and understands everything... he literally cannot do more for nene than spend some time with her during the day. it is a compromise, it is temporary. if she wants all those grand things she wished for in PP, then he is going to intrinsically be unable to be a part of it.

before nene existed, hanako more or less just stared at his empty bathroom stall all day. he was... understimulated. now, with nene here, he is out of that state of stasis, actually existing in the world. making connections and sharing memories, whether he wants to or not!! ... hanako is a needy person, at his core, he cannot actually retcon being possessive and controlling. 

his belief system he imposes conflicts with his very nature. or, maybe a better way to put it is, his belief system is him trying to keep his nature in check... it’s a very sick nature. i think it got the better of him, multiple times, with regards to nene.

You are going through something here... you are feeling the sickness... (as an aside,  i LOVE that aida draws things multiple times from different angles, it means you get to see a scene you love from something AGAIN but from a different perspective, another layer to it.)

we get all the way here, eventually. There's such a delightfully scary atmosphere to this last page, I'm obsessed with it. quite frankly a psychotic image. do you think this is what it feels like to be Hanako? 

the texturing on his hand makes you feel like he is a diseased beast of some sort. the translucency here, to remind you he is a ghost. in other scenes, his see-through body has this dreaminess to it, sunlight filtering through him and making him seem pretty. this is like, the flipside of it, the nightmare quailty. maybe if you were Hanako, you couldn’t ignore this pervasive feeling of being inhuman either.

[networksupported]

clickonmedotexe​:

The grin alone makes Rex want to smack it right off his face, and Cas’ snarky comeback doesn’t do anything to lessen the urge. At the same time, Rex is itching to lean in again and kiss him senseless. He can make good on his promise to repurpose every single one of those twenty four hours Cas has before he fucks off to whereever he’s been these last months.

But he falters when Cas’ reply properly sinks in. Rescue mission. How had he known they were planning a rescue mission - one that had never properly taken flight? Rex had been busy with his family and his new kid, Thursday had been busy dying to kick the plan into motion. Neither of them managed to pick up where they left off, but Cas was far from forgotten.

Rex’s grip loosens and then he does step back, letting go of his sort-of-ex-husband. He ignores the insults completely.

“Where were you?” He demands. “Where the fuck were you, Cas? Do you have any idea- you selfish little- fuck you, you’re damn lucky I’m not sending you right back to the hell you just crawled out off, you piece of shit.”

Forget about kissing Cas again, Rex wants to wrap his hands around his throat properly this time and squeeze until he comes up with a satisfactory explanation. As if ‘I’m dead’ is the equivalent of 'I forgot to call’, like Cas decided to die on purpose to spite everyone he knew (Although, Rex thinks angrily, it sounds like something he might do).

Dimly he is aware his rage only exists because he, no matter how much he might try to deny it, genuinely cares for the very same being he tormented, gaslit and nearly murdered.

He cares for Cas. He missed him. He has complicated feelings that teeter between I want to kiss him and I want to give him a slow death.

He decides he’s going to do neither of these things and instead go for the third option. Before Cas can think of running from him, Rex has closed the distance again. He doesn’t grab him nor does he attempt to strangle him right back into Hell. His arms wrap around Cas’ now smaller form and then he just…holds him.

“I should kill you.” Rex mutters into his hair. “But all things considered, I am happy to see you again.”

cas stiffens instinctively at the touch, not wholly nor entirely sure quite where the attempt was truly going, and frankly, not too liable to trust a man who'd just spent a good few seconds calling him a piece of shit, and a good few hours/days/months/years going around and torturing people to within an inch of their lives. but he's desperate- very desperate, desperate to the point that he never would've come here otherwise- and the moment it becomes clear this hug is simply that, it's all cas can do to not push those thoughts from his head and simply melt into it. though, this time, it's rather more a simple will of self-preservation in a different sense-- nobody, nobody in their right mind, or even most people out of it-- would have been willing to put their face anywhere that close to any item of rex's clothing.

sure, maybe it smelt slightly better than it had before- as in, one was able to actually smell it instead of having to wear a hazmat suit and stand approximately three miles away where the fumes would still somehow be able to reach you, but that only placed it on a level a little above a fetid dungheap populated in frequency by the grilled corpses of several dead skunks, and cas had to admit he wasn't particularly fond of those either, even as a lesser evil.

> yeah, well-

he responds, voice choked with emotion and the fact he's trying desperately not to breathe too much through any orifice.

> i do appreciate the sentiment. i'm... almost grateful to see you too. really appreciated that you think i went to hell, by the way.

cas continued, somehow managing to sound hurt (albeit rather mockingly) at this completely true and valid belief.

> i've done nothing but be nice and help people, and you go around assuming things like that, you bastard. fine. maybe i won't tell you anything about it then.

he sighs (a very unwise move, considering it now meant he had to inhale at some point).

> no, yeah, no, you're right, of course. but my point still stands. i didn't come here looking for help to get myself out of that place. i, uh- i want you to get me in.

he somehow manages to sigh on top of that sigh.

> i want you to kill me, rex. that's why i'm here.