#if i'm just a bother and a burden at my best then why am i even trying

[telemiel]

i am genuinely incapable of interacting with or existing around other people without fucking everything up and i'm so tired

[inkbybambi]

best friend!simon riley picking you up from a bad date —

words: 2.2k rating: nothing explicit apart from a brief mention of sex, just some light angst and comfort. my blog is 18+ so minors please dni. warning: hurt/comfort, fluff, pet names, insecurity/doubt/worry, mentions of sex, simon is the softie we all know he is notes: originally written for @ghosts-cyphera ♡ we all need a bestfriend!simon in our lives who's so sweet and gentle with us.

One thing you love about Simon — besides everything — is how reliable he is. Strong, steadfast, there when you need him. Even when he’s not physically there — his work taking him away for weeks or even months at a time — you find yourself reading over the messages he’s sent, the little sticky notes he’s left, whatever memento you’ve kept of him tucked away in the drawer in your bedside table.

Not that you’ll tell him that.

You hate asking him for favors — asking anyone for favors, really, but him especially. Whenever you ask someone for help, it's always accompanied by a long-suffering sigh or a roll of the eyes or some very clear indication that they'd rather do anything else.

Except for Simon.

Which is why you're hesitant to ask him more than you absolutely need to. You don't want to push your luck too far, less he eventually tires of you as well.

Losing people hurts, always assuming it's you that caused the problem. You've come to accept this, even if the dark feelings of being too much or a burden claw at the edges of your mind.

But losing Simon? You don't think you'd ever get over that.

It's just after 9pm, the sky dark and clouds threatening, with thunder rumbling steadily in the sky. Your hand shakes as you fumble your phone from your pocket, trying to hold tears at bay as you scroll through your contacts.

Your call log is all Simon.

Some appointments here and there, but Simon everywhere else.

Fuck.

You hiccup, the tears spilling from your eyes as the sky finally opens up, joining you in your mourning.

You don't have any other choice, really, so you click his number before you can talk yourself out of it and walk home instead, bringing it up to your ear as it rings.

He answers before the third ring.

"I'm so sorry to bother you," you sniffle into the phone, before he has a chance to say anything. You take in a sharp breath, blood turning to ice. "Am i bothering you?" you sound so meek and small and tired. “No, dove, you’re not,” comes his calm, reassuring voice. You’re only half-convinced.

"I'm sorry," you begin again. Your heart falls to your stomach, convincing yourself that this is his final straw. You're overtaken by a wave of nausea, despite not having eaten anything since lunch. "I didn't know who else to call, and I lost my tram pass, and I don't have an umbrella, and — "

“Dove,” he says, his accent soothing to your ears — he's so endlessly patient and kind. You ache.

"I can just walk home, I-I'm sorry," you whimper out, unable to stop the tears blurring your vision, feeling pathetic and weak and so, so alone. “Darling,” he says, a little stern. Not angry, never angry. Trying to focus you. “What’s wrong?”

“U-um, my date stood me up,” you sniff, swallowing hard. "I waited an hour," you mumble, looking to your shoes. "Messaged him too, y'know. He just. Didn't show."

You think you hear Simon curse over the line and your heart lurches, feeling like you're about to be sick. “Where are you?”

There's a rustle of fabric, the clink of keys, the heel of his boot walking across his floor. You manage to tell him the name of the restaurant, voice cracking. “Twenty minutes,” he says, and you’re about to protest but he beats you to it. “Sit there and be good and patient and I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

"Okay," you whisper in agreement, before the line clicks dead and you allow yourself to cry, huddling under the awning as some protection from the rain, now coming down in thick, sharp waves.

Thirteen minutes later, the headlights of his truck shine through the dark, pulling up to the curb. You make a mad dash for the passenger door, still getting drenched in the process.

You can't even look at him, hands shaking as you buckle the belt, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

He says your name gently. You take in a shuddering breath and let it out just as shaky, looking over towards him. He's wearing his balaclava, but his eyes — even in the dark, you can make out his beautiful eyes. Assessing you, worrying.

"I'm sorry," you croak out. You can't help it. It's burned into your tongue, driven into your mind to make him understand you didn't want to bother him. He doesn't have to forgive you, but as long as he knows, that's enough.

"Love," he says, and there's... something in his voice, as he reaches over for your hand, holding it gently in his own. His eyes never leave yours. "'m never gonna be mad about you askin' for help." Your eyes flit away, but he squeezes your hand and you reluctantly look back. "You know me better than that," he says, as if he can read the treacherous thoughts swirling in your head, drowning you and making it hard to breathe.

You can only nod, not trusting your voice at the moment. He hums, bringing the back of your hand up to graze his covered lips over the back, pulling out to drive you back.

"This is your flat," you say, fifteen minutes later as he shuts the car off. You were too busy looking at the window, watching the rain drops race down the glass, to notice that he wasn't driving the familiar route to your place.

"Yes," he replies, as if it's obvious he'd bring you here. "You really think I'd let you stay home alone?"

His eyes are so fucking bright. It startles you, and you hate how your heart twists and thumps at how intently he's looking.

"I..." you start, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. His eyes flicker to your lips, snapping away just as quick. "I was gonna eat ice cream and drink shitty, cheap wine," you say.

"As if I don't have either of those things here," he replies, opening the door and effectively ending the conversation. You scramble after him, eager to be inside in the warmth and burrow yourself into his couch.

"Go get changed," he says, voice clear as he removes the balaclava and bends to untie his shoes.

You hesitate for a second, until he looks up to you and there's that something lingering in his gaze — the same something that was in his voice.

"Go on now," he repeats, softer, and you ditch your shoes and your uncomfortably wet jacket by his.

His flat is as familiar as your own — you could walk through it blindfolded at night and you wouldn't knock into a single thing.

Well.

You might knock into a corner or two, but that's not a vision thing. It's a you're a bit clumsy thing. Simon finds it endlessly amusing, poking at the bruises that blossom on your skin while you bat his hand away.

His bedroom is familiar as well. Which is why you don't think twice before you're shimmying out of your clothes — undergarments as well — and rifling through his drawers, finding your favorite shirt of his and a pair of his boxers.

You take a moment to smell the collar, taking comfort in the scent that lingers. You’ve been dressed in his clothes many times before this but it feels different this time.

As you pad back out to the living room, Simon’s already on the couch. Your favorite blanket is draped across his lap, two bowls of ice cream and a bottle of cheap wine sitting open, glasses filled far more than you would’ve. You’ll indulge him, mostly because you have the sneaking suspicion that he’ll have you sleep here anyways.

His balaclava is off. The last dregs of tension drain from you as he looks over to you, face soft in the lowlight of the lamp, tv ready with a show you’ve watched a thousand times that he watches with you without complaint.

“Knew you’d choose that one,” he says with a bit of a smirk as you crawl on the couch, burrowing yourself into his side, his arm slinging across the back of the cushion.

“Am I that predictable?” you mumble, a small thank you as he hands you a bowl.

He doesn’t answer, but you feel the burn of his stare before he snorts, flicking the tv to start playing, the familiar theme relaxing you further.

The silence with him is comfortable, lingering in a hazy in-between of awake and sleep, empty bowls and mostly empty glasses sitting on the coffee table.

“Were you going to fuck him?” he asks, three episodes in, bottle empty.

You blink, not sure if you heard him properly as you pull back to look at him. You can’t read his eyes. Something hot twists in your gut.

“I-I don’t know, Simon,” you start, the weight of his stare heavy. “Maybe?”

He doesn’t say anything and you chew your lip for a moment, fingers curling to play with the blanket. “Depends how the date went, I suppose. Doesn’t matter much now,” you snort. His gaze hasn’t changed. “Why?”

His jaw clicks, taking a deep breath. “You deserve better ‘n that.”

A confused frown pulls at your mouth, unsure how to reply. “I know how to be safe,” you tell him, voice soft.

He seems to be weighing his words in his head, lowering the volume of the show. You feel sick.

Dark eyes rove over your face, taking in every minute detail. You bite at your nail, just for something to do.

“Don’t think there’s a bloke in the world that’s worthy of ya.”

Your frown deepens, breaking your eyes from his, twisting your fingers in your lap. Relationships aren’t easy. Being that vulnerable with someone isn’t easy.

You never want someone to pay for you, and even the smallest gestures like opening the car door or pulling out your chair feel like it’s too much. You don’t deserve that kind of attention. After a while, they’ll get tired. You’ll become a burden to them like everything else in your life.

It’s easier to be by yourself. The only person you have to worry about bothering is you.

“Love.” He tilts his head, eyes trying to catch yours. How hasn’t he gotten tired of you yet?

A hand under your chin forces your gaze up, and you try to shrink yourself against the back of the couch. Your voice catches in your throat, words stuck there.

“What’s goin’ on in tha’ pretty head f��yours?”

You swallow thickly, finding it damn near impossible to keep your eyes on his.

“‘s not like it matters,” you start. his brows furrow, but he stays silent. “No one would want me anyways.”

“‘n why would you say that?”

Frustration burns the back of your throat. Isn’t it obvious? You can barely call him in a dire situation without thinking the worst of yourself. How can he think of you as anything but a nuisance? How could he think anyone else would put up with it?

“You wouldn’t understand,” you say, defeated. You crumble back into the couch.

“Make me understand.”

Heat flashes at the nape of your neck. He takes your hands in his, cradling them in his warmth. Your name sounds so soft in his voice.

“How aren’t you tired of me?” comes your whispered question, nose tingling and eyes threatening to water. You look at him. Hesitant. Scared.

The silence is loud. His own frown deepens. It takes a few painful minutes, but you see the moment something clicks in place.

“You know I’d do anything for you, yeah?”

Your lip quivers, sniffling as you beg yourself not to cry.

“Because you do the same for me,” he continues. You doubt it, mind going blank of every time he’s come to you for something.

His touch moves to your elbow, tugging you forward gently until he can arrange you in his lap. He slips his hands beneath the hem of his shirt, thumbs rubbing on your hips just above the waistband of his boxers.

You slowly brace your hands on his shoulders. Firm and broad and safe.

“You apologize so much. You worry so much.” the tears slip down your cheeks, throat aching, but now you can’t look away from him. One hand moves to cup the nape of your neck, thumb rubbing gently at the skin behind your ear.

“You’re allowed to ask for help.”

You shake your head, a no caught in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“Oh, love.” He cradles you into the curve of his neck, arm wrapping around your waist and keeping a gentle hold at the base of your skull. “You have me wrapped around your finger ‘n you don’t even know it.”

He lets you cry into his neck, dampening the collar of his shirt. His cologne is soothing and you eventually slump against him. You’re so tired.

His lips graze your temple, his soft touch lulling you to sleep. You’ll talk about it tomorrow, but for now you want to stay wrapped up in his arms, held by someone who genuinely loves you.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

my dear! I'm your fan, I love your writing. Thank you for taking us out of our reality and allowing us to enter a world of our own! Could I make a request for a crazy idea I had? An anguished Y/N and Chan fight and he tells her to leave and leave him alone. When Y/N leaves in a daze he doesn't see the car and is run over. In the end I trust you. =) If it doesn't bother you and you can fulfill my request, I would be very happy!

Can we turn back time?

Warnings: blood, tragic, angst, accident.

Summary: ^^ Requested

A/N: hey baby :) not the best :/ butttt I hope you like it. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

**

Her heart was beating at a fast pace. Why was he not understanding what she was trying to say?

“You always come home late Chan! I thought I could have this one night. This one night to ourselves but you chose to go drinking instead?!” She poured her heart out as she stared at her idol boyfriend.

“Please Y/n now now okay? I get you wanna talk but can I please just go to bed? We can talk about it tomorrow,” he pleaded as he put down his black leather jacket on the couch.

His curls sat neatly on his head and his black shirt fitting him perfectly and his jeans neatly ironed.

“Chan it feels like you don’t love me anymore!”

“Well maybe I don’t, okay?!” He got up and yelled. His anger was now full on visible as he aggressively slammed his hands on the table.

She stood there looking at him shocked. Tears pricking through her eyes. What was this mess?

His eyes softened as looked her scared figure. “I- I didn’t mean too,”

“Save it Chan.” She sobbed. Her hand was fiddling with her promise ring that Chan has gifted her on their 2 year anniversary. It was the most beautiful ring that she has laid her eyes on but as time went on she realized it was just a ring it was a stress reliever because anytime she was sad, frustrated, mad or confused she would play with the ring on her finger.

“Why can’t you see the things you keep doing hurt me Chan?” She sobbed and looked up at him. Praying that somehow she can find answers.

“I-“ he took a deep breathe trying to keep his own tears in, “I’m failing okay? Can you just leave me alone? Please?” He took a shaky breath before taking a step back and grabbing his jacket.

“Am I a burden now?” Her chest tightened. Chan couldn’t look at her. He had no courage, no strength.

“I’m going upstairs,” he simply said and walked past her.

She wanted to stop him, beg him to hold her, beg him to be there for her but the pain in her chest told her otherwise. She looked so silly, like a kicked puppy.

She wiped her tears and walked over to grab her shoes before leaving her house totally forgetting her phone and keys.

**

It was dark and cold. The sun had officially set and people were either out having dinner or rushing home from work.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad as she watched the couples sitting outside restaurants talking and laughing.

She felt empty, she felt deceived. Chan was the perfect boyfriend. He made sure of it but when they started becoming a hit he started slowly pushing her to the side leaving her at home and going out to drink and party or he would be locked up in the studio trying to make new songs.

She was lost without him. She had created her whole routine off of him and now she would wakeup every morning feelings lost not knowing what to do.

Her mind was runnning so fast that she couldn’t keep up. The tears in her eyes were were blurring her vision as she took quick steps to the park.

It wasn’t far. That was always her safe space. Everytime she would get overwhelmed or exhausted she would run away and hide behind the big old oak tree down by the river next to the park.

It was a little foggy, she couldn’t see anything but Chan’s loud voice kept playing in her head until she heard a loud screech. She looked to the side but it was too late. A painful scream left her body as she watched the car crash into her body.

She didn’t feel pain all she could hear was a ringing sound then a few sirens before everything went quiet.

**

“199 what is your emergency?”

“I-I crashed into someone, help! Please! I don’t know what to do-“

“Okay sir is she breathing? I need you to calm down and tell me what happened,”

“Y-yes she’s still breathing, I- I was driving and she just stepped infront of the car, I don’t know! It wasn’t my fault,” he sobbed as panic was filling his chest.

He looked down at the frail body, blood was everywhere and yet he still didn’t pass out. He tried to put pressure on the area that was bleeding the most but it wasn’t working. Blood was still gushing out of her.

She looked familiar tho, he thought.

“Sir, I’ve sent an ambulance. I just need you to keep breathing and tell me if she stops breathing. Keep your hand on the wound,” the dispatcher kept telling him over and over again.

“Oh God this is a lot of blood. Please God, please don’t let her die,” he whispered as he looked up at the car that was parked by them.

It felt like hours until he felt like who could breathe. He heard the sirens. They were here. The paramedics were finally here.

**

“C’mon Y/n please pick up,” Chan cursed at himself as he walked back and forth in the living room.

He was now in sweatpants and a hoodie. His hair wet from the shower.

When he had come downstairs he saw no sight of Y/n and at first he thought that maybe she had gone for a breather so he decided to do some work knowing that she wouldn’t pick up his phone even if he had tried to call so he just chose to distract himself.

He felt guilty for the fight they had. It was chewing him alive but he knew it was his fault and he needed to make it up. As time kept passing by; 30 minutes turned into 2 hours.

He started to feel uneasy so he decided to try her phone but she wasn’t picking. He called all the boys at the dorm asking if she was with them but they said they hadn’t seen her then he called her bestfriend and she too hadn’t seen her. That’s when the panic started to set in.

He called her phone over and over again while making sure to text her too. He rushed upstairs to grab his crocs and that’s when he saw her phone on the night stand table.

“Shit, Y/n,” he groaned and rubbed his eyes before grabbing his car keys.

He put on his crocs and rundown the stairs and that’s when he got a call from his manager.

“What is it Soon-hoo, I can’t really-“

“Chan we need to get to the hospital now,” he said in a panic. Chan’s blood went cold as he could hear shuffling in the background.

“W-what is it? What happened?!” He managed to say.

“It’s Y/n Chan,” Chan’s senses came to a hold. Everyhting around him felt like it was moving in slow motion, “she got run over Chan, I’m coming to pick you up,” their manager said as he started the car.

All Chan could hear was a ringing sound as he stared at the blank floor. Tears running down his cheeks as his heart was beating faster.

______

Don’t forget to reblog😋

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

hold on,hold on,Yandere!Conner Kent x reader🙏🏻

(sorry for bothering😭)

U ain't a bother and if anybody tells you that u do, then, they gonna face my pinky, my thumb and my fist they gonna run. 😼🐺🧏🏽‍♀️ nobody messes with my first ever anon 😠👊

Anyways

The night has fallen quietly over Metropolis, the cityscape softened under a blanket of stars. The world feels smaller somehow, contained within the walls of your apartment where Connor sits, angled slightly toward you, his gaze unwavering yet serene. He has that brooding, intense look—a mix of steel and tenderness—that you’ve come to recognize as uniquely his. It’s as though he’s carrying a burden, one he won’t let you see, and yet you feel its weight as if he’s drawn you into his orbit without permission.

“Connor,” you say softly, trying to break the quiet, “you’ve been… around a lot more lately.”

His eyes flicker, something shadowy dancing behind them, a vulnerability he usually keeps hidden. He doesn’t answer right away, just lets his gaze travel over your features as if memorizing every detail. The room feels charged, the air between you like the fine thread of a spider’s web—delicate and unbreakable all at once.

Finally, he speaks, his voice hushed but firm. “I just want to make sure you’re safe. Is that so wrong?”

There’s a faint, haunting cadence in his words, something raw and possessive yet laced with an almost tragic reverence. You feel the intensity radiating off him, a barely restrained storm beneath his calm exterior.

“Nothing could happen to you,” he continues, almost to himself. “Not on my watch. I’d make sure of that.”

You’ve always known Connor’s protectiveness runs deep, but tonight, it feels like there’s something else lurking beneath the surface. An edge, a quiet desperation that clings to the room, thick as fog.

“Connor…” you say his name with a gentle tone, hoping it might pull him out of whatever dark place he’s retreating into. He’s so close now, leaning forward, his hand reaching out as if compelled by some invisible force. When his fingers graze your cheek, his touch is featherlight, as though he fears you’ll vanish.

“If I could keep you here,” he whispers, his tone taking on a dreamy, almost poetic quality, “locked away from the world… I would. Not because I want to take anything from you, but because I… I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”

It’s a confession wrapped in longing, and you see the truth of it in his eyes, where constellations seem to burn just for you. There’s something about his gaze that feels eternal, as if the universe itself has handed him the task of guarding you.

“You mean a lot to me,” he says finally, each word slow and deliberate, as though he’s trying to etch them into your soul. “More than you know.”

In that moment, his love feels like an uncharted ocean—beautiful and terrifying, with depths you’re not sure you’re ready to explore. But his sincerity anchors you, and, despite the intensity of his words, you can’t help feeling safe, cocooned in the quiet power of his devotion.

(A/n: is it just me or do you guys also feel suspicious of how I could post every day despite saying I'm too lazy to do so... Maybe my laziness hasn't kicked in yet which is weird and scary considering I'm writing dis rn in front of my 10 homework activities, and yes I am doing it last minute but so what...? I'm too lazy to do all of em and rn I'm don't know what I am talking about... I love yapping but I'm a introvert does it make me a extrovert when i talk too much but not as loud? Guys I'm turning crazy, I need someone to talk to and all my best friends are busy idk why they've been busy since last week....my gf is not replying for like 20 minutes now...im going crazy. Also sorry for spamming the Batfamily tag even though it's not the content I posted, I just feel like it's more famous than the others and also idk how to tag... Though mainly because I'm scared of being a flop hehe...)

[coca-lastic]

5 Green flags 🟩 VS 5 Red Flags 🟥

I'M BACK 👹

Well well, My last post about Keigo have lots of support from you all, and like I said, I'm willing to do a part 2 about Bakugo Katsuki sooo, here I am.

Tell me if you want a part 3 and which character you would like.

Let's start with his red flags. Let's be clear that Katsuki does have a few, it's true that it's nice to imagine him as an attentive boyfriend who takes the initiative, and I firmly believe that he would be like that, but that shouldn't hide the little things he has that can get on your nerves at the time of a fight.

Now, let's start listing his bad things:

1. He acts like you're a burden: I don't think he would do this on purpose, but he would. Comments like "What the fuck do you want now?", "Stop bothering me", "You're too intense", "Will you shut up?" can come up at the beginning of the relationship. Even to the point that you feel bad about his independent actions, as if you were just another thing on his list. Of course, deep down he doesn't consider you a burden, but he expresses himself as if you were one.

2. He doesn't open up to you: Katsuki has this constant thought that he can't be inferior, that he has to be the best and his feelings can be a difficult thing, and I think that in a relationship he feels a lot more pressure about all this to be strong and show you how tough he is. So I think that for a long time he won't tell you if something is wrong with him even if it's clear that something is wrong with him. This could just be something normal, but I add it as a red flag since a large part of Katsuki's life is clouded by those insecurities, so he doesn't tell you how he feels every time he sees Deku, or how he was in training, or how he felt when he won something, because if he does, his facade will fall apart. This ends up being something that can affect the communication between you two.

3. He doesn't understand you: He tries, he really does, but he just has a hard time understanding when you feel bad. He's so used to minimizing what's happening to him that he doesn't understand why it affects you so much. So you might be crying in his arms, and he might be hugging you, but deep down he doesn't understand, and that's terrible in arguments, because he doesn't understand why you're angry or why you're sad or why you're disappointed, he tries to fix it but he doesn't understand the roots of the problem.

4. He's jealous: Like, not jealous to get insecure when he sees you with a friend, jealous to get furious when he sees you with another man. And that, OBVIOUSLY, brings problems. He trusts you, he doesn't trust them, he knows you're hot and he also knows that the other jerks know it. So don't doubt that he's going to complain to you repeatedly that a certain person shouldn't be so close to you, or that he doesn't get along very well with a certain friend.

5. His anger: In the anime we can already see that he is a little bit... impatient. He tries to control himself with you, he truly loves you and treats you with his best version, but there are times when you simply act in a bad way, I mean, you also have your red flags, and that makes him angry, and you too, then you fight. A lot. For a long time. A lot of yelling. And probably a lot of painful words that he doesn't really feel, but says them, because his fury is faster to speak than to think, analyze and meditate.

Now, like every person, he has his flaws and his virtues. He has things to improve and things that you should love, because they are incredible.

So let's see what those good sides are and let's see which side of his personality ends up winning, let's see the second side of his furious personality.

1. He doesn't talk, he acts: Maybe he doesn't open up to you as much as he should, but he decides to make you feel comfortable by letting you know that he loves you through more practical methods. Are you hungry? He cooks, are you sick? He takes care of you, do you want a snack? He buys it. Because actions are worth more than words, so he decides to act, he decides to give you what you want, and consider yourself lucky because you are the only one who sees his helpful side.

2. He puts you first: If his friends invited him out to eat something, he won't care if you sent him a text telling him to go with you to buy something. If his mother told him she was going to celebrate a birthday with the family, he'll run away because you asked him to bring you some chocolates. Because he knows that if you love someone, you're not going to replace them with the smallest things, so if he has to make a decision that involves you, you'll always be the right answer.

3. He is not ashamed to show you off, he loves to do it: You are also part of his achievements, and being the show-off that he is, he will show you off. God, he has a sexy, smart, strong, kind and hot girlfriend, he has to show you and show them that you two are together, that he is a lucky and happy man.

4. He knows you: I think this is important, but not all men do it, in fact those who do are very few. Because not all of them observe you, remember, learn and please you, but Katsuki does. He is observant and knows how to listen, maybe he doesn't understand perfectly why you feel so much, why you get excited and sad about small things, but he knows that you do it, he knows how you feel, he knows how you reacts, he knows what you like and how he knows you, he knows how to please you, he knows how to make you happy with a gift, he knows how to excite you, he knows how to make you laugh and he knows how to make you feel loved.

5. You're part of his future: If he sees himself as a great hero, he sees you by his side, making and fulfilling your dream. Holding your hand. Kissing you. Hugging you. Caressing you. That's what he sees. Maybe two house, or a single one, whatever you want, maybe 2 children, or maybe none, just a pet, maybe a red car, or maybe a black car, but within all those variables there is one constant: you.

Sorry, this doesn't match your way of seeing Katsuki. Remember that he is still a character that each one sees and imagines in their own way, but I try to do it in a way that everyone feels comfortable.

Now, did the 🟩 flags or the 🟥 flags win?

[theambitiouswoman]

SELF TALK. Replacing the NEGATIVE things we say to ourselves with POSITIVE words 🦄💜✨✨

When we say bad things about ourselves, our minds and bodies pay attention and start believing those things. It's like a cycle. When we keep telling ourselves we're not good enough or can't do things, our minds start thinking it's true. These bad thoughts can make us act in ways that match what we believe, like avoiding things because we think we'll fail. Over time, our brain gets used to these thoughts and they become a regular part of how we see ourselves.

But if we say good things to ourselves, it can be really helpful. When we're kind in how we talk to ourselves, it can make us feel better and stronger. It's like giving ourselves a little boost of confidence. When we're positive, we can handle problems better and feel less stressed. When we believe good things about ourselves, we might do better in different situations. So it's important to notice how we talk to ourselves and try to say nice things, even if we don't always feel that way.

Negative: "I always mess things up." Positive: "I sometimes make mistakes, but I also learn from them."

Negative: "I'm so stupid." Positive: "I'm smart and capable; everyone makes errors."

Negative: "I can't do this; it's too hard." Positive: "I can handle challenges with effort and perseverance."

Negative: "I'll never succeed in anything." Positive: "I have the potential to achieve my goals through hard work."

Negative: "Nobody likes me." Positive: "I have people who care about me and value my company."

Negative: "I'm a failure." Positive: "I've achieved many things and will continue to grow."

Negative: "I'm not good enough." Positive: "I am enough just as I am, and I'm constantly improving."

Negative: "I'm a burden to others." Positive: "My presence and contributions make a positive impact."

Negative: "I always mess up social situations." Positive: "I can connect with others and enjoy social interactions."

Negative: "I'll never get over this." Positive: "I can heal and move forward from difficult situations."

Negative: "I'm so ugly." Positive: "I am unique and have qualities that make me attractive."

Negative: "I'll never be as good as them." Positive: "I have my own strengths and talents that are valuable."

Negative: "I'm a loser." Positive: "I have the courage to try and the ability to succeed."

Negative: "I'm always so awkward." Positive: "I am learning and growing in social interactions."

Negative: "I can't handle criticism." Positive: "I can learn from feedback and use it to improve."

Negative: "I'm too lazy to accomplish anything." Positive: "I have the energy and determination to achieve my goals."

Negative: "I'll never be happy." Positive: "I can find joy and contentment in the little things."

Negative: "I'm a failure as a parent/friend/partner." Positive: "I care and do my best to support those around me."

Negative: "I'm too old/young to do that." Positive: "Age doesn't define my ability to pursue my passions."

Negative: "I don't deserve good things." Positive: "I am worthy of happiness, success, and positive experiences."

Negative: "I'm a failure because I haven't achieved enough." Positive: "I'm on my own path of growth and accomplishments."

Negative: "I can't handle stress." Positive: "I am resilient and can manage stress with effective strategies."

Negative: "I'll never be as talented as others." Positive: "I have unique talents that make me special."

Negative: "I'm so clumsy." Positive: "I am improving my coordination and skills."

Negative: "I'm too shy to make friends." Positive: "I have qualities that others appreciate and I can connect with people."

Negative: "I'm not good at anything." Positive: "I have strengths and abilities that I can develop."

Negative: "I'm a burden on my family." Positive: "My family supports me and we help each other."

Negative: "I'll probably fail, so why bother trying?" Positive: "I have the courage to take on challenges and learn from them."

Negative: "I can't trust anyone; people always let me down." Positive: "I can build meaningful and trustworthy relationships."

Negative: "I'll never find love." Positive: "I am deserving of love and can create meaningful connections."

Negative: "I'm not creative at all." Positive: "I can express my creativity in different ways."

Negative: "I'll never be able to speak in public." Positive: "I can develop my public speaking skills with practice."

Negative: "I don't deserve success." Positive: "I am capable of achieving success through hard work."

Negative: "I'm so disorganized." Positive: "I can improve my organization skills with time."

Negative: "I'll never be happy with my body." Positive: "I can make healthy choices and appreciate my body."

[annmaximoff18]

Y/N:I like your new tiara

Billy:I just got rid of three witches, honey.

Y/N:They were going to betray us, it was necessary

Billy:I... I don't know

Y/N:Hey no, listen, they were going to betray us or get rid of us as soon as we got to the end of the road, or at least me, I'm not like you, you know that, right Billy? I'm just a nuisance, and they said it themselves, that I'm a burden.

Billy:You are not a bother and much less a burden, you are the love of my life, I am sorry for dragging you into all this.

Y/N:You know I would follow you to hell if you asked me, right?

Billy:I know, that's why I love you

Y/N:and I love you more Billy, don't feel bad about what you did, just remember what Agatha did a few minutes ago, it was the best.

Billy:You're right love, they would have betrayed us.

Y/N:come on, we have to finish this and find Tommy, he is our priority.

Billy:I love you too much

Y/N:and me more, but seriously you have to lend me your tiara someday

Billy:When we're done, I'll take you somewhere and lend it to you.

Y/N:It's a date then

[wondersinwaynemanor]

here i go again with "big brother dick grayson strikes again" prompts.

thinking of Dick probably helping his siblings on their first dates and offering to take them to the location.

Dick to Jason: Hey, Little Wing. I know you can take one of your motorcycles, but let me take you. You can just focus on being pretty.

Jason: Shut up, Dick. But, are you sure? I don't know why my hands feel a bit numb-

Dick, takes Jason's hands on his to warm them up and untighten the nerves there: It's okay. I got you. You're okay. It's going to be okay. Don't stress yourself out.

Jason: I know I fucked up many times, Dick. I don't want.. I don't know what to do if I fuck this up.

Dick, brings Jason closer: Shh. You won't, Jay. You're very smart and strong, and so so caring and you don't even realize it it. Ask the kids at the Alley, they idolize you. Roy adores you and everything you do. He knows who you are. And trust me, I'm not that bitter anymore of one of my best friends dating my younger brother.

Jason smiles which warms Dick's heart, making him smile too.

Dick: Plus, we wouldn't want Ollie to think that a Wayne cannot dress up and be romantic right?

Jason grins this time.

Dick to Tim: Timmy, I have a great idea! I'll drive you there. I know you're tired from work already. Just let me know which restaurant then you can rest a bit when we travel there.

Tim: It's okay, Dick. You're also tired from your shift. I'll just let Kon know I'll be late for a few-

Dick: No, no. If you want to rest first, let him know, he'll understand. But I'll still take you.

Tim: But, Dick...

Dick: Nah-uh. I didn't drive you to prom, remember? Let me do this, Baby Bird. And for me to also look out for Lex, just in case he bothers Conner again. We don't want that happening in the middle of your date.

Tim, laughs: Well, Kon will just have to drag Lex's ass to space.

Dick laughs with him.

Dick to Cass: Aww, you look beautiful, Cass. So where you going? Where will you meet Steph?

Cass, fixing her necklace: By her house.

Dick: Great! I already know where that is. I'll drive you there. We don't want to ruin your beauty. I mean, that's totally impossible, but I want you to just relax before the date.

Cass, blushes: I can do it.

Dick: Of course, you can. But I want to. Pretty please, pretty please. I'm a little protective over my sister.

Cass, rolls her eyes fondly but smiles: Of course. Thank you.

Dick: You're most welcome. And tell Steph if she does something extreme like set some fireworks, tell her to lay off with those energy drinks she started on her diet.

Dick to Duke: Little D, Little D! Don't even try to say no cus maybe your brothers and sister have already told you, but this is kinda my tradition now. I'm taking you to your first date.

Duke: They did tell me. But, Dick.. I don't want to be a burden. Weren't you injured-

Dick: No, no. That was like last week. I'm good. As long as you're good with me to take you, right? Now, I don't want to be the burden.

Duke, smiles: Never.

Dick, smiles and gives Duke a side hug: Then you're never a burden too, Little D. A big bro has to look out for the younger ones. Plus, I can say that you dressing up nice comes from my influence.

Duke, chuckles: Who else am I looking up to, right?

Dick to Damian: Shush, Dami. I know you're dating a super, and he can come and get you without a minute to spare, but tell Jon I'll be taking you.

Damian: Richard, please. I'm already at the right age.

Dick, puts a hand on his little (not so anymore) brother's shoulder and he refuses not to tear up (he fails ofc): I know, you've grown up so much, Dami. So much, since I made you Robin. But please, it will make me really happy to do this. It will give me peace, in some way. It sounds ridiculous, but yes.

Damian, doesn't even try to hide the fond he has on his face: Alright, Richard. I'll let Jon know.

Dick: He's not taking you somewhere out of Gotham or Metropolis, right? Cus then we'll have to take the Batplane.

Damian, chuckles: It's in Metropolis, don't worry.

Dick: Phew. I was as nervous as the time I took Tim on his date.

so....

maybe after a few years on Dick and Wally's wedding day, Dick's younger siblings will be walking with him on the aisle by his side and Bruce, their Father, on his other side of course. and they're thankful that the aisle is wide enough to fit the whole Wayne kids. Dick is a crying mess and he hasn't even reached Wally yet by the end of the aisle. because he's genuinely happy to have his siblings take him to the love of his life this time.

[nyxronomicon]

breaking your restraints because we need to know the endeavour thoughts <3

honestly just thinking about how large he is...

specifically I'm thinking about this artwork and also desperately trying to figure out an au where Enji would wear a suit bc 🥴🥴🥴 (I feel so insane about those sock garters ngl)

ok I'm just gonna spitball something (unrelated to the artwork lol) that has been floating nebulously in my head lol.

(vague spoilers for season 6 but i am actually only halfway through it lol...)

cw: GN!Reader, reader is married, domestic violence (unnamed husband hits reader), guilt, soft and angsty

.

You were his childhood best friend. As a kid, you always assumed the two of you would end up together. You were practically inseparable. He saved you from bullies a few times before they stopped bothering you. You even went to UA together, but you were one of the few quirkless students, and enrolled in the business course so it was getting harder to spend time together.

The more you heard about how well he's doing, how he's a hero now, the more inadequate you felt. You were just a quirkless nobody that would only ever burden him. Then you heard he'd be getting married to another quirk user. She was stunning and powerful, a much better fit for him than yourself.

You moved on and got a job working at a big hero firm. You dated, of course, and eventually got married yourself. Your husband wasn't good to you. He was a jerk, cocky, and had a bit of a temper (yeah, you have a type).

The two of you ended up getting in a heated argument because you've been working too much, not spending enough hours at his beck and call. You ended up in a screaming match, not entirely out of the ordinary, but this was different. You were crying, frustrated that this topic is coming up again. That he can't seem to accept that you're more successful than him.

Your husband was drunk and belligerent. He slapped you on the face so hard you tumbled to the ground, knocking over the wobbly bookshelf he never fixed. You were lucky it only fell on your ankle, but it throbbed with pain all the same.

Your neighbors called in the closest hero agency for domestic violence after hearing the screaming, and only moments after the shelf crashed on you, there was a knock at the door. Without a thought, your husband stormed over and flung the door open, snarling at the man at the door.

"Who the fu-" His words died in his throat when he saw the man plastered all over the news on his doorstep.

Endeavor had never seen your husband before. The two of you had lost touch long ago, nothing but memories of your childhood friendship left between you. He had no idea who the man in front of him was. However, with just a glance behind him, Endeavor saw the fallen bookshelf, trinkets and books strewn across the floor.

And then he saw you.

He didn't recognize you at first, more focused on assessing the situation and doing something about the asshole in front of him.

"Look, honey," your husband chuckled manically. "It's your favorite hero. Y'know, the abuser," he mocked, as if he thought the hero in front of him might turn a blind eye.

"Don't pretend you know anything about me." Endeavor growled in response before knocking your husband out in one hit. Seconds later, he was at your side with your soon to be ex-husband in a heap on the floor.

"You alright?" Guilt clawed at the back of his mind. The man was right, Endeavor was no better than him. He's seen this before, in his own home. By his own hands.

"Enji," you could only manage a whisper, your voice hoarse from the shouting and shock of the moment. His eyes widened, only just now noticing your features, the color of your eyes, and the crinkle of your smile when you added, "thank you."

He saved you before. In fact, you were the first person he saved. You were the reason he pushed himself, so quirkless people like you could live happy lives. The brief hit of nostalgia was immediately shattered when he remembered why he was here. Despite everything, you ended up with someone just like him.

"Sorry, you probably..." You hesitated, feeling heat rush to your face. God, you hadn't been embarrassed in years. "You probably don't remember me. I shouldn't have-"

"How could I forget you?" He interrupted you.

There was a long silence. The two of you were just looking at each other, the changes over the years could never hide the minute details you'd memorized years ago. His gorgeous blue eyes, his strong jaw, the deep red of his hair. But you noticed new things, too. His whole physique was larger, and with maturity brought wrinkles and the battle-hardened gaze that was fixed on you.

"You were..." Enji cleared his throat, thoughts a little lost after taking in the changes in you, as well. "You were the first person I saved." He remembered you as a child, but here you were, an adult, and you were far more stunning then he remembered, even with the tear stains on your cheeks. A distantly familiar feeling bubbled up that he could barely recognize. Just laying his eyes on you reminded him of the crush he had on you so many years ago.

He was sure it was just the nostalgia. No matter how much it felt like fate.

Another lingering moment passed, the words left unsaid flooding the room inch by inch. Both of you wanting to know more, but afraid to close the distance left by time. Not knowing where to start when the end could be as close as him walking out that door.

"Can you stand?" Enji finally spoke, his words softer than even he thought he was capable.

You glanced at your ankle, already red and beginning to swell. "I don't know." You shifted your weight, as if to get up.

"Stop." He placed a hand gently on your shoulder. "Don't try. Can I pick you up?"

It had been so long since someone had been so attentive. So long since someone cared when you were hurt. You couldn't stop the tears that spilled from your eyes again, choking on a sob instead of responding. He hesitated. Were you crying because of him? Because the hero sent to you was the one guilty of this crime himself?

You leaned on his shoulder, his familiar warmth was so comforting. He even smelled the same as he used to, the charred scent clinging to his skin transported you back in time.

"Seriously, Enji..." your voice cracked. "Where have you been...?"

It felt like his heart stopped. It was already broken and battered and beat to all hell. Enji was not the hero you always saw in him. He was just like the man still passed out on your floor. He knew his mistakes were unforgivable, but still, you were thinking about him this whole time.

"I'm sorry." He scooped you in his arms. "I'm here now." He didn't deserve this. You. He knew that. But he'd see this job through and make sure you were safe. It was the least he could do.

[the-broken-truth]

Leaving The Web [Part 6 - Epilogue] - Platonic Yandere Miguel O'Hara w/ Daughter Symbiote Spider Reader

Broken Truth: Someone in the comments asked me for a Part 6 to this storyline so I decided to make an Epilogue. Please enjoy this final part of Leaving The Web.

[Earth-928 / Spider-Society / Infirmary]

"Broken Ribs. Fractured Leg, Bruised Ego." Lyla said as she went over Miguel's Medical Chart while the Leader of the Spider-Society was laying in a bed with his body bandaged and his red eyes looking at the ceiling with his traditional frown on his face while he slowed his breathing to relieve the pain on his ribs. It had been a week since he was thrown back into the portal by Venom & his daughter, [Name], and he was just now gaining consciousness. Miles and Gwen with the help of Peter B. Parker got him into the infirmary so that he could get his wounds looked at and bandaged but he passed out from the pain and the stress

"Just tell me how the operations are doing, Lyla." Miguel said in his nonchalant voice.

"All the operations are going smoothly, most of the Anomalies have been captured and returned to their proper Earth...but Peter has not sent anyone to Capture Venom and [Name]," Lyla explained.

"Why? I flagged that as a top priority. I need them back home as soon as possible." Miguel said as he looked at Lyla but she just shook her head and looked at her creator through her heart glasses.

"Miguel, you know that I normally joke about these things but you need to let [Name] go, she doesn't want anything to do with us, mainly you, so it's time to let them go and leave them to have their own life," Lyla said.

"But, I need her..." Miguel said ut Lyla shook her head.

"No. You had her and she tried to get your love and attention - you abandoned her to raise another daughter when your other version was killed in that robbery. You called her a burden and looked at her with disgust whenever she tried to get your attention. Think - do you really want her or do you just want to replace what you lost?" Lyla said as she disappeared. Miguel looked at the ceiling and thought about what Lyla said - it was a serious question and he didn't know the answer to it.

[Name's] Earth]

[Name] walked down the street with her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket - which was actually Venom - as she was heading to her job to collect her paycheck for the week.

"Do you think Madame Kristen will give us the Chocolate Sculpture of us?" Venom asked.

'I'm not sure, that's the most sought-after creation she has and I think she promised it to her niece for her birthday.' [Name] thought as she walked into the store and out after getting her money with her weekly bonus only to see the Vulture flying over her head as Cop Cars chased after him.

"Do we really have to?" Venom asked.

"You know the answer to that, V." [Name] said as she walked into the alley and let the Symbiote consume her into her Spider-Woman Suit, and swung after the cop cars. After attacking the Vulture and defeating him, allowing the cops to take him away, Spider-Woman swung away to reach her apartment and found a note attached to her door in familiar writing.

Mija and Venom,

I know that you didn't want to hear from me again after you both beat the crap out of me and tossed me back into my portal to send me back to the Spider-Society but I wanted to tell you both that I am sorry for everything that I have done to you. I ignored you. I neglected you. I failed you. I shall leave you alone and never return to your Earth again so long as there are no anomalies there, but I won't bother you and make you come back home with me. If you decide to come home, I shall accept and love you. Love you and live your best life.

Signed, Your Father, Miguel O'Hara.

[Name] and Venom looked at the note before going into their apartment for dinner and chocolate.

Just another day in New York for Spider-Woman and Venom.

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

Metalhead!König at a festival

Tis the season – Festival season – SFW and NSFW

More Stuff in the Masterlist

(cw: alcohol/drugs, semi-public sex, smut, MDNI 18+)

On the way to the festival, I’m living the best passenger princess life, sitting beside him, navigating the GPS, feeding him snackies (he loves little brezels and gummyworms) and most importantly DJing the whole time while driving to the festival. Songs of all the bands we want to go see live are blasting from the speakers and when I start to sing along, König chimes in.

He has an old VW van T4 that he rebuilt himself, so that the back of it actually transforms into a quite comfy bed, one that even accommodates his size.

The trunk of the van is filled with gear and gadgets, there's nothing that he didn't think about.

A plastic pavilion to get a little bit of shade in the blistering summer sun. A camping table and two chairs (even though I don't know why he bothered to get me my own because he always coaxes me to sit in his lap) ((maybe that's why we have a second one because I don't think the small thing can withstand our combined weight for long)). A portable sound system. A bunch of hardware tools, a camping cooker and some equipment for it. Like for example the little espresso can because even at a festival the big guy needs his proper coffee (and not some kind of "instant crap" – his words).

At least I could hold him off from bringing our own beer tap because that would've been ridiculous.

And of course, he brought a grill, he would've even brought one if it weren't allowed.

I mean, he's Austrian and even though the neighbors from Germany are much more known for their fondness for grilling as soon as the temperatures rise over 10 degrees celsius, he still loves it.

I'm just rolling my eyes and laughing when he starts to light the coals pretty early in the morning. But I'm not complaining because he chooses to do so shirtless, showing off his broad muscled chest and the plethora of tattoos on his torso.

The black cargo shorts are hanging low on his hips, the belt holding them in place, the waistband of his boxershorts showing a little bit which accentuates the V of his hips. And don't even get me started on the happy trail leading down.

I'm ogling him shamelessly, sitting in my chair and making some coffee on the burner for us.

(He's also wearing some of his old combat boots, and he reassured me that the weird looking stains on them aren't actually blood. (I still don't believe him))

He looks like such a metalhead dad as he's standing at the grill, a beer in hand and just happily humming along to the melodies blasting from the speaker.

It makes me happy to see him like this because I don't know much about his work, he rarely talks to me about it and it has to be a burden, but right now he seems like he doesn't have a care in the world.

I catch him grinning at me, shaking the almost empty beer can and downing the last bit. I giggle, jump up and go get him a new one from the little freezer box.

With two fresh cans of beer, I stroll over to him, handing him one. His arm wraps around me and I can already see the mischief sparkling in his eyes as he's looking down on me. "Ex oder Franzos.", he tells me, taunting me. (He told me once what this means ‘either down your beer or you're french’ which apparently is an insult?? I don't know what the Austrians are on either)

"Nooo, I’m not gonna shotgun with you right now.", I wail.

"Oh, come on, it's just one beer.", he grins at me.

I put my hands on my hips, looking up at him all scolding. "Well, maybe one beer isn't a big deal for you, big guy." He just laughs and nonetheless drinks half his beer with one big gulp, the little show-off. Ever since he knows what a lightweight I am, he likes to tease me about it. Stupid big tall man.

The sun shines down like crazy which gives me the opportunity to apply sunscreen too him as often as I can.

"I get the feeling you're not doing this for the well-being of my skin.", he tells me, sideeyeing me while my hands move over his shoulders and pecs, making sure every inch is covered.

"I don't know what you mean.", I answer innocently, making him pull his hair out of the way with a nod, and moving on to his tattooed back, skimming over the smooth skin with my fingertips, massaging over the tense muscles.

When I'm finished, finally having applied enough sunscreen on the huge man, he snatches up the bottle, puts a little dollop on his hands and goes straight for my boobs.

"We can't have you getting a sunburn either!", he explains with a serious expression on his face while he shamelessly kneads my bikini-clothed breasts, in the name of sun protection.

Food in the stage area is expensive but that doesn't stop him from buying me everything I think looks good. I need to actually hold him off from getting another portion of the little pancakes because I'm so full, I feel like bursting and I still wanna be able to mosh.

"But what about some ice cream?", he suggests, pointing at a little cart in the vicinity. "It might help us cool a bit down."

I tilt my head to the side, thinking about it, but only for a moment. "Okay, I think there still is room for some ice cream.", I agree and we make our way in the direction of the ice cream vendor.

“Oh, wait, we need to get more water!”, I yell out as I see the water station. I pull him with me by his hand, filling our water bottles and then taking off my shirt to wet it.

“Now, what is this? Wet t-shirt contest?”, he asks with a dirty smile on his face, his eyes travelling down my body.

“Yeah, you wanna join?”, I ask him wiggling my brows, which makes him laugh and shed his shirt in a second. He lets water run over it as well and then wrings the shirt out over his body, the water dripping down his pecs and abs, and I can’t help but stare with a slack jaw. He laughs again when he sees the expression on my face, but he puts the shirt back on.

He pulls me into him, pressing a little kiss to my temple, our wet clothes sticking together. “Come on, let’s get you that ice cream, sweet cheeks.”, he says, giving my ass a few loving pats.

We try and go to as many bands as possible which is becoming quite the workout for me. By midnight my feet are already hurting like crazy and I make the mistake of mentioning it to König because he demands to carry me now. After some discussion, we come to the agreement that a piggyback ride would suffice.

So now I'm clinging to König's back, my muddy shoes dirtying his pants with the way my legs are hugging his hips. His arms are reaching back, the hands crossed under my ass supporting my weight.

Festivals can get pretty filthy but that doesn't stop him from trying to get into my pants. The solution to the filthyness? Going showering.

Most of the festivals I've ever been to don't actually separate between men's and women's shower, so that's not an issue when we slip into one of the cabins together. Still, some people around gave us funny looks.

It gets crowded in there even for two people, especially if one of the two is König. I press my body against his and squeal as he turns on the shower and we get doused with an icecold spray.

He just laughs, not fazed by it at all – duh, but I am someone who german-speaking would call a 'Warmduscher' (someone who likes to shower warm, which is meant as an insult).

His mouth finding mine shuts me up and wandering hands get rid of the dirt and grime on our bodies. I'm still washing away soapy suds while König's caresses drop lower and lower until his fingertips stroke over my pussy, finding my clit. I shoot him a look like "Seriously?! Right here and now?", but the corners of my mouth curl up. The knowing expression on his face doesn't waiver while he draws circles on the sensitive spot, getting me wet and needy for his fingers to slip inside me.

I hold onto him, my hands digging into his shoulders, as he pulls up one of my legs and finger-fucks me. The cold water is forgotten by now.

The palm of his hand pressing against the soft mound, stroking over the clit with every push inside me. His fingertips reaching that certain spot, brushing over it repeatedly, which has me gasping for air in no time. “Ja, fuck, come for me.”, he whispers against my lips. My thighs start to tremble, and moans escape my throat.

“You need to shut up, Liebes, or the people around us will know.”, he grunts, letting go of my leg and clasping the hand over my mouth to muffle my sounds. The realization that there’s other people in the cabins beside us, that the stalls aren’t anywhere near a soundproof barrier, that someone will probably hear the lewd sounds, the realization sends a zap of tingly arousal down my spine. His fingers move faster, hitting me deep inside, and I come around them screaming into his palm.

When my orgasm fades, I snuggle into him, and he holds me up pressing soft kisses to the top of my head and my face. He takes the camping bath towel he brought (you know, the ones that are microfiber and dry really fast? Of course, he has stuff like that) and starts to wrap me in it.

“Wait, what about you?”, I ask, still panting a bit, aware of his hard dick pressing against my belly.

“You’re already shivering wia a Lampe Schwoaf (like a lamb’s tail), we need to get you into the warmth again.”, he says, rubbing me down with the towel, the strokes of his big hands and the fabric tickling me a bit, which is making me giggle.

He leans down a bit, getting to my legs as well, still drying me off, and his eyes find mine, arousal and need glinting in them, a smirky grin forming on his face. “And don’t worry, I’m gonna get my fill of you later.”

In between bands, we’re sitting on the lawn, a little bit away from the stages. The sky is tinted in a rosy-orange blush, blending into the dark of the night that’s about to come. Even when I’m sitting on his thigh, I almost have to tilt my head back to look at him. He sees my little stare and smiles. “What?”, he asks.

I don’t break eye contact as I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”, he asks, seeming a little loopy.

I shrug, the smile on my face only getting wider. “I’m just happy to be here.” My hand reaches up to boop his nose, and the look on his face when he goes cross-eyed makes me laugh. “With you.”, I add, still giggling, feeling silly and honestly – a little lovey-dovey.

His smile matches mine as he grabs my face with his hand and plants a big kiss on my lips. “Me too, du Scherzkeks.”, he mumbles against my lips. (literally 'joking cookie', meaning jokester)

Straightening back up again, he eyes the joint in my other hand. “You still smoking that?”, he asks.

I shake my head and hand him the roach. He takes it and puffs the last bit of weed, inhaling deeply, holding in the breath. Before he can exhale, I grab his face with both my hands, pressing my lips to his. He chuckles, deepening the kiss, letting out the smoke as his tongue brushes against mine, and I taste him and the grassy fume.

We’re still sitting in the same spot an hour later, giggling with each other, sharing the biggest portion of fries we could find, while we listen to the music blasting from the stage speakers.

When we're back at the van, I fall into the mattress, bury my head into the pillow and groan as my body relaxes into the softness. My god, I will never be able to sleep on anything less comfortable when at a festival.

König's chuckle behind me makes me aware before his hands grasp my hips and pull them upwards. He pushes my pants down and his mouth into my pussy. I gasp into the sheets gripping them, squirming against his tongue, when he sloppily licks me, lapping at my wetness, dipping into my ass as well, until I’m making a total mess on his face.

He gets greedier, pulling out his dick and fucking me from behind, his fingers digging into my hips. The pace he’s going at makes the whole car shake, and somebody passing by could notice, but I'm counting on the darkness to conceal us, to hide what we're doing in the back of the van, especially when he flips us, and I’m on top now.

He's splayed out on the mattress looking up at me, satisfied smirk and hooded lids, as he grabs my wrists, securing them behind my back, and tells me to ride him. I whine and moan a little while I start moving up and down his length because the muscles in my legs are already aching from all the dancing, jumping and moshing, but his dirty ramblings spur me on: "Fuck, you feel so good, just like that." and "Harder, ride me harder." and “Ah, scheiße, i- that’s it, good fucking girl.”

He lifts up my shirt with the other hand and brings the fabric up to my mouth, gesturing me to bite into it. He pulls down the bikini top I’m still wearing underneath, freeing my boobs.

"Hm, such a little slut, getting fucked in the back of a van.", he murmurs, his eyes glued to my bouncing titties, while he fucks up into me, hitting spots deep inside me that pull obscene sounds from my throat. The little bit of fabric between my teeth can't damp them down. I try to hold onto the last bit of sanity, but then he pinches my nipple, hard, the sensations flowing over me, and I come on his dick, straining against his hold on me, shuddering while the orgasm wrecks through me.

My thighs are pressing together and König’s hands are the only thing that’s holding me up. While I’m still coming down, he pulls me against him. I sigh snuggling against his chest when he rolls us over.

“Oh no, Liebes, we’re not done yet.”, he chuckles, pushing into me again, his lips finding the sensitive spots on my neck.

A little ray of sunshine falls on my face through the window of the van, the early morning light making me open my eyes. I try to move to escape the brightness, but I can’t move my body. I turn my head and open my eyes, seeing König’s arm and legs draped over me, the big hand splayed out over my belly. Well, that explains it. The big guy is still sleeping, the soft sounds of his breathing filling the space around us. He’s facing me, a relaxed expression on his face, his brows that always seem to be furrowed turned up a little bit. I don’t think I have seen him this peaceful yet.

My lips curl up into a smile and I reach out, cupping his cheek, softly stroking over his jaw, because I can’t help myself. Normally he shaves pretty often, a habit he picked up at the military, but somehow, he’s still always wearing a 5 o’clock shadow. Right now, the beard has developed into more of a longer stubble, a few grey hairs in between. And it looks good on him.

Suddenly he’s stirring in his sleep, his lids fluttering as he groans, the big hand moving up to his face to rub the eyes. A little huff escapes my nose and I greet him with a “Good morning, sleepy head”. He groans again because he can be a little ‘Morgenmuffel’ (a little grumpy in the mornings), but opens his eyes to look at me.

“Why are you so cheery this morning, hm?”, he asks me, still blinking the sleep away while a sly smirk is forming on his face. “Oh yeah, that’s right because I fucked you seven ways to Sunday on this mattress.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the little grin on my face. “Yeah, yeah… If I can’t walk to the stages today, it’s your fault, old man.”, I taunt him.

His eyes light up with playful threat and he grabs me, rolling onto me. I yelp and giggle as his full body weight presses me into the mattress. “Keep running that mouth, Fräulein, and I’m gonna make sure of that.”, he says, his words a dirty promise.

a/n: this should have been a quick little fun drabble, but I got carried away - ah well, it happens <3

[lovelywritinglady]

hi can i have insted a uzui x reader wifes inclodid where reader is havin a panic atac becaus of trama (it cud be from enifing ) and than you

Absolutely I can! Hope you enjoy!

It’s Gonna Be Okay

Tengen Uzui x Gender Neutral Reader

You began having a panic attack after meeting the wives. You just got married to your husband and meeting his beautiful wives caused your nerves to spike. You begin questioning why someone like him would want someone like you. Angst, fluff, your gender is not confirmed.

Your Pov

They were beautiful, just like the paintings my father use to hang inside our house. They were like angels that were too bright to see. I knew about my husbands wives and that never bothered me. I just wish I knew how beautiful they were. From their piercing eyes, warm smiles, and strong bodies, I felt like nothing in comparison. Why the hell did he marry me? He's on a level of his own. He is the most handsome man I had ever seen.

My negative thoughts started spirling out of control. I kept asking myself, why? In comparison to them my hair did not shine so brightly, my smile did not match my face structure, and my eyes were a dull shade of e/c. I was trash, I was nothing. I'm not even a skilled demon slayer or ninja like them. The best skill I have is basic yard and kitchen duties. I do not belong in a place surrounded by such elegant beauty. What did my husband even see in me?

"Why, why, why." I whispered to myself as my breathing became heavier.

"I'm such an ugly creature, so why did he marry me?" I said louder as my breath quickened and my head began to spin.

"Am I just a joke to him?" I questioned curling up in a ball on the floor.

My breath quickened and tears flooded my face like heavy rain on a metal roof. my whole body shook with terror and confusion. I felt as though I would break in half at my very thoughts. The same questions kept reacurring in my head. Why me? If they are so beautiful then why would he fall for me? Why would he marry someone else if he has them? Why? Why? Why?

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N." A voice said but my erratic blocked it out as another thought in my scrambled mind. I then felt a large pair of arms pick my fragile figure from my spot and an immense heat radiated all over my body. My head rested on a strong surface as a big hand rested gently on my head, pressing me closer.

"Shhh, my love its gonna be okay. What troubles you?" The calming voice said. I didn't answer, but this voice began to soothe me slightly.

"I-I-" I stuttered confused as to who I should be talking to. Then the hand that was touching my head moved to my chin and my head was tilted upwards and at last I saw the comforting figure of my husband. This caused my nerves to spike once again. For I thought that by him holding me, I was burdening him further.

"Hey hey, its okay, its okay. Y/N, sweetness, I need you to take some deep breaths okay?" Tengen said concern lacing his tone. I shakily nodded and began taking unsucessful deep breaths.

"Very good, keep on trying you're doing so good." he cooed with a reasurring smile. My breaths still shaky, began to calm. Despite my anxious thought, his voice was silky. Like fresh honey collected on a crisp spring morning.

"Love, do you think you can tell me what's going on? If you can't right now that's okay. Take your time." He cooed looking at me with his fuscia eyes.

Just then my wives walk into the room. All with concerned looks across their faces. I look at them still focusing on my breathing. They all knelt down, but not touching me.

“Y/N, hey what’s going on?” Hina asked

“Yeah what’s wrong and what can we do to help?” Makio questioned

“I’ll do whatever I can to make you feel better!” Suma exclaimed.

“Girls, not right now. Y/N and I need some time together. You can see them later, okay?” Tengen stated gently as to not hurt their feelings.

“Alright” Makio and Suma grumbled waking out of the room. As they did they both looked back with loving smiles that made my heart flutter slightly.

“We will all be here when you are ready.” Hina said giving me as smile as well. She then left the room.

I took some more time to breathe so that I could tell him what was on my mind. I was completely hesitant, but once again his voice soothed me and gave me the courage to tell my husband what was on my mind. The whole time I was talking he was rocking my still shaky body, as his eyes never left me. My head was in the crook of his neck as my tears slowly began to cease. Once i was done, he began to speak.

"Sweet one, you are so incredibly beautiful and talented." He confidently stated

"Why do you think that?" I whispered burying myself further into his neck. As his hand stroked my hair.

"Its very simple, you just are. I love you because I love your soul." he cooed

"But-" I started

"But nothing Y/N you're a flashy person and that's why I married you." He chuckled

"I'm not beautiful though." I cried

"Of course you are. You are just as beautiful as our wives. You know, I'm proud that you're my spouse. I'm proud because I'm married to the most wonderful person. I love showing you and our wives off. You make me a better man and nothing could convience me otherwise. Hell, even if you turned into a demon I'd still love you because you are worth everything. I would gladly give up my life for you because I love you." He stated with tears beginning to form in his eyes.

"I love you too." I cried out hugging him harder that I ever had before.

"I'm so sorry that you ever had to feel this way. I will do my best to help you never feel this way again." He stated

"But what if I do? What if I panic again?" I questioned looking into his striking eyes

"Then I will do my best to soothe the demons of your mind." He said kissing my forehead. Now, let me run you a bath and I have one of the maids cook your favorite meal. How does that sound?" he questioned as he stood up with me still in his arms, which caused me to giggle.

"Sounds like a plan, love." I said with a smile gracing my still tear stained cheeks.

"That's my lover!" He exclaimed rushing out of the door as our laughter rung throughout the house. We passed our wives who also began laughing and I knew that I truly did belong here with them.

Thank you so much for reading💜Thanks for the request!

Please feel free to request, comment, and repost

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

[cryptid-catnip]

An Unnecessarily In-Depth Deconstruction of the Lore and Problematic Elements of HDG

Why did I make this fucking post. (TWs for discussions of imperialism, cultural genocide, and a mention of systematized sexual assault)

So, to preface, I am going to be pretty harsh when it comes to criticizing the setting and lore of HDG, but I do not give one iota of a shit if someone finds its more problematic elements hot. Hell, I myself have found quite a few of the more fucked stories hot.

Secondly, if you want to rebute this post, please refrain from using Thermian Arguments as much as possible. If you don't know what a Thermian Argument is, it was coined in this video by Dan Oslen. It's only a five-minute watch, but, if you can't be bothered, it details an increasingly common argument in fandom spaces which consists of rebuking problematic elements of media by using in-universe reasoning, despite the fact that everything in a story is there because the writer put it there.

With that out of the way, let's begin.

So, in a previous post of mine, I wrote that The Combine from Half-Life 2 are essentially the same archetype of sci-fi civilization as the Affini (ie, ancient, vast conquerors whose interstellar conquest is so ancient that not even they know where they're from), with the only difference that the Affini are to be seen as the heroes of the story because... well because the writers say so.

Now you may say "Callie! You stupid bitch! Life in the Compact is way better than that on Terra!" and, to that I say "That's a Thermian Argument."

GlitchyRobo (and basically all other HDG writers) made the conscious decision to have Terra be Super-Mega-Ultra-Death-Capitalism(TM) to serve as justification for the Affini's colonization of Terra.

And this opens up a massive can of worms, considering that the Affini canonically want all non-Affini to be Florets and believe that all non-Affini would be better off as Florets.

The reason I'm calling this a can of worms is because the Affini are so vast, so long-lived, both individually and societally, that there has to have been at least one society that was doing really well for themselves, and were crushed by the Compact, right?

As I've alluded to prior in this post, the Affini are a fundamentally imperialist entity and does not care what your opinion is on their interstellar conquest, now go get your mandated mindbreak implant.

I think it's fair to say that the Affini are a shining example of the Designated Hero trope, as for a civilization whose bread and butter is imperialism, cultural genocide and systematized rape, they ARE The Good Guys, because The Narrative says so. This isn't even hyperbole, nearly all of the Canon Guidelines and the Writing in HDG pages are "The Affini are the good guys and are always in the right and are 59 steps ahead of the Terrans and functionally and narratively invincible with awesome tits."

But special mention goes to this line which basically confirms the thing I said previously:

What if you feel okay on your own? What if you don't want the Affini Compact running the show? What if you're already a communist society and are doing your level best to ensure everyone gets what they need?

The Affini response will be, "That's okay, petal, you've done enough. We'll take it from here."

And this line, which is basically just there to handwave some of the grimiest elements of HDG:

(Discussions about systemic floret sterilization and comparisons to real life reproductive violence and eugenics are definitely overthinking it.)

Like, motherfucker, I'm not the one who wrote this implication into the story. It's not my fault you decided to do White Man's Burden IIIIIIIIINNNNNN SSSSSPPPPPAAAAAACCCCEEEE with the femdom plant aliens.

And this is not only wretched morally, but it's just bad fucking writing. It is the closest that comes to an actual rule in writing (unless, like other "rules" in writing, it exists in your story for the purpose of deconstruction): DO NOT HAVE IMMORTAL, ALL-POWERFUL PROTAGANISTS.

The Affini are written like the player character of "That Guy" in every RPG horror story ever, with them being essentially invincible and immortal (functionally and narratively), are portrayed as the good guys while conquering planets and brainwashing people.

Or, to put it another way, most HDG stories feel like pro-Compact propaganda written by and for the Affini.

I was going to end this post with a thing where I say, "well i don't really think any of the writers/fans think that this would be good in practice/irl, and they all know it's just wish fulfillment kinkfics", but I genuinely do not think that's true for many people.

The constant defense of the righteousness of the Affini Compact in the text itself, as well as the constant stressing in the fucking wiki, leads me to believe that many people just straight-up believe that they are in the right, and not just the purpose of being kinkfics, and that deeply fucking disturbs me.

[ohmycale]

I guess I am alive again...

I have not been in the fandom for quite some time due to life and many things happening in real life. Somebody in real life asked to read and comment on a post defending Deruth. It's a good read and I agree on most of it. Which even surprising that I'm writing this. I hope I would not offend anyone if I would just highlight some of the things I read that make me think. A bit of a long post incoming

I agree that he's an okay parent...for any other child and any other time except during Jour's death. But since ogCale was a neglected child by most adults around him (during and after this time), especially his parents, I would beg to differ. And here I am thinking that parents try their best even at their worst times. Tbh, the post feels like an excuse Deruth's neglect like many posts that I have read. Just another one who handwave neglect and worse, treat it as something so trivial. Neglect is treated as something so minor that should be waived by time or force. Assuming that we're not holding Deruth on a pedestal, why is an apology for his failings such a bad thing to do, fathom or even ask for?

Father and child were both grieving but it seems that it was only Deruth's grief that mattered. Nobody gave a shit for the child who had his life upside down from losing his mother, ignored by his father, and got a new family that he was (for intents and purposes at that time) didn't even ask for. Because Deruth moved on, everyone, especially Cale, has to. Because of a new family, og!cale never said anything coz he'd probably be answered by 'Don't you want your father (Deruth) to be happy?' (classic line for stepkids) If that's the feedback, why bother opening up and saying something? Og!Cale will be the bad guy for expressing such thoughts and feelings. In real life blended families, it's the parents who facilitate everything including communication. It's the adults who should be guiding the children and have control of the situation. Also, let's not forget that it was Deruth who distanced himself from og!Cale first and never bothered to patch their relationship and issues even to the point that og!cale changed a lot aka Roksu appeared.

I understand that people are not at their best selves when grieving. I was the same. But I am not an adult nor a parent. I didn't have a child that I had to care for or be responsible for. It might have been hard, but it would not sit on my conscience to burden a kid with my messy emotions or pull away. Because pulling away from a person who thought they were loved by you leads them to think that they are at fault. At the very least, og!cale deserved a conversation about his mother's passing and his father's actions at that time.

I don't care about the worst father list. As mentioned before, Deruth only gets the benefit of the doubt already because he is kind and trying. Trying but didn’t succeed. For me, his trying is not for readers to judge, His effort should only matter to og!cale and whether it is enough to absolve Deruth for his failings.

I agree that both Deruth and og!cale are bad at communicating. Deruth did set the precedent of not communicating and pulling away.

The first few chapters show that he cares for his son in his way. Yeah, but he's not reaching his son, does he? They barely had a functioning relationship and we're supposed to congratulate him? As a reader, we get it that he cares for his son. But if we ask Deruth, should he be happier that he’s winning over strangers rather than the person he's trying to care for? And if Deruth is on speaking terms with og!Cale to his son, it’s not gonna be that hard to bring out a topic or issues.

Not touching the Violan bit because she is his stepmother (and stepfamilies are so complex and hard) and to be honest, a better adult than her husband,

8. You can also argue that Deruth didn't try hard enough. He does try. He's not just good efficient as exemplified by the post. He doesn't speak about the things that matter to them both but does the indirect and inefficient ways. He shouldn't be surprised if keeps trying bad ways to reconcile and act surprised when it fails.

9. So for parents to try harder doesn't usually end up with a heart-to-heart talk unless the other wants to talk. It's a risk that a parent has to take - either grab them by the horns or be miserable trying to communicate via the mind. And suffer the odds for the risk.

Re Basen and Lily. I am ambivalent about them. It’s not because they were kids or they did something bad to og!cale. For some people, especially the people who were left by their parents to have a do-over family, they are a symbol. I mean, sans og!Cale, Deruth is winning. He has a new family – a wife that shares his burden, a (spare) son for the county, a daughter that he might have wished for. There are real fathers and mothers who abandon their original families/children because THEY CAN. Is it projecting? Absolutely effing lutely. Is it reasonable enough to expect? Yes. Because Deruth is a flawed human being who already showed that he CAN abandon og!Cale if he so wished. And nobody can stop or even disapprove of him because of his status and position. It is good that Deruth in the story defies this but he’s still doing the BARE MINIMUM.

Overall, whether Deruth is a bad father will be a recurring conversation topic for the fandom. There are many viewpoints but I always always side with the views most relevant and applicable to og!Cale even it might be biased. If og!Cale is here with us, I am sure he will be more than happy to tell us what he thinks.

But we don’t. Any opinion, even the scathing and unpopular ones, deserves merit. It’s good that fandom is not a monolith especially in this because this topic and og!cale’s experiences are so relatable.

Here’s a summary of my stand

Being a good parent to Basen and Lily doesn’t mean he was a good father to og!Cale even if og!Cale does love him

Og!Cale doesn’t need to forgive or forget what Deruth did in the worst time of their lives because he loves him

Deruth is afraid, I get that. But if he remains afraid, his hope for reconciliation isn’t gonna pan out as he hopes to.

Deruth needs to accept that there is a chance it is too late.

Deruth needs to accept consequences for the negative things he gave to og!cale, unintentional or not. Even if og!Cale understands why he did what he did.

Did I just log into my dormant account to post this? Yes.

Is this longer than I intended? Also, yes.

Are my fanfic bunnies dead yet? Maybe.

Hope somebody enjoys this one.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY FENRIS  *  assorted dialogue from dragon age ii, updated version

meeting you was the most important thing that ever happened to me.

i can’t bear the thought of living without you.

you are too willing to involve yourself in the affairs of others.

nothing could be worse than living without you.

before we found you, there was a moment when i… don’t do that again.

you should really post some guards outside, considering all the trouble you get into.

everywhere we go, people try to kill you.

i don't want to hear another word out of you.

and here we are again. for the fourth time.

how much do you wish to test that luck of yours?

it seems you have won the day. well done.

why must you go on about this?

i can do that, if you wish.

i am alone.

i'm afraid to ask what brought this on.

is this going anywhere?

do you want to guess what color my underclothes are again?

you’re squandering something you don’t understand.

you do not like your name?

you'd look pretty in one.

i felt like a fool. i thought it better if you hated me.

nobody asks for their fate.

oh. that. it’s... a talent.

it was better than anything i could have dreamed.

do not make light of this. leaving was the hardest thing i’ve ever done.

whatever you need, i am ready to assist.

the true character of any city is found among its poor.

i enjoy following you.

i didn’t come here to burden you further.

we have never discussed what happened between us three years ago.

is there no one else who has your attention?

you wound my pride with such accusations.

break their heart, and i will kill you.

you keep staring at me. is it my eyes again?

you are more naive than i thought.

did i hear correctly?

that is my hope as well.

i don’t want your pity.

i needed to be alone.

that night... i remember your touch as if it were yesterday.

i shouldn’t trouble you with this. my problems are not yours.

how is it you get into these situations so often?

you did the right thing. many would turn a blind eye.

you do not want to know the answer to that.

i don’t know. it’s just something people say.

you have an entire story written in your head already, don’t you?

a shame that you are going to die, no?

i should have asked for your forgiveness long ago. i hope you can forgive me now.

from what i gather, you like a lot of things.

you wish to do this here? in front of everyone?

i’ve never spoken about what happened to anyone.

why are you watching me like that?

i remain at your side.

i may not get a chance to say this again.

thank you for asking me to come along.

perhaps this is what it means to have a friend.

i suggest keeping your distance.

if there is a future to be had, i will walk gladly into it at your side.

we need to stop and rest when we’ve a moment.

this ground is cursed. only wretched or ignorant souls would linger here.

i cannot imagine what it must be like to lose your family. anything i could say would be insufficient. i’m sorry.

i have never allowed anyone too close.

forget i said anything.

it’s so wonderful having my personal business as someone else’s sport.

well... at least i’m not dead.

you were never ordered to kill?

does it bother you? should i stop?

promise me you won’t die.

do not bare your heart to me, unless you would have me rip it out.

is that a compliment of an insult?

do you intend to go after me, then?

it is always good to be at your side.

thanks for getting rid of them.

i imagine you imprisoned them?

you have my thanks.

i am yours, as always.

the smug sense of superiority does give you away.

you caught them, then?

there you are. were you hurt? what happened?

i don’t know what to say, but i’m here.

surely you can’t hope to best me.

i am yours.

we should move on.

i could ask you the same thing.

i just... am pleased to see you, that’s all.

you are looking for forgiveness, but i’m not the one who can give it to you.

they say death is only a journey. does that help?

i stand ready.

shall we end this quickly?

another battle is upon us.

you frightened me.

oh, you've learned a few new words.

keep going. i'm sure your training will kick in any moment.

to be honest, i see no point in filling these moments with empty talk.

my wounds need attention.

[another-goblin]

Meeting the family

Just some Raturine ideas (it could have been a fic if I could write) Part 1. Aventurine takes Ratio with him to Sigonia-IV (a bit sad). Part 2. Ratio retaliates (less sad).

Part 1. On Penacony, Aventurine was forced to confront his tragic past in a rather abrupt and traumatic way. He now feels that, to make some semblance of peace with it, he has to revisit Sigonia-IV after all these years and face it on his terms. The problem is, he's not sure he'll ever be strong enough to do it alone.

Luckily, there is Ratio. Probably. They have been in a weird sort of relationship for months now. They clearly enjoy spending time together, but they'd rather die than talk about their true feelings. Both are stumped by overanalyzing this situation. For Ratio it's "Yes, he's being playful and charming with me, but I saw him act the same way with other people, he's probably just toying with me, I shouldn't embarrass myself by showing my true feelings." And for Aventurine: "Does he care for me in a special way, or is it just a part of his "I'll keep the damn gambler safe and emotionally stable because I'm a decent person" routine, am I a burden to him, is he deliberately being emotianally distant with me or is it just how he normally is?, I know that I'll never be able to tell him how I actually feel because he won't believe me, he'll think that I mock him, it'll just drive him away."

So, as a last resort gamble, he tells Ratio, in the most nonchalant way possible, that he's going to visit Sigonia, and Ratio can go with him if he wants. He fully expects to hear an indifferent "Why are you telling me this, why would you expect me to go with you?". Instead, Ratio is in shock.

He did do some research on Aventurine's past. So he realizes immediately how important this trip should be for Aventurine, and how real and vulnerable he's being right now, and what that offer means for their relationship. It's much more revealing than any confession Aventurine might have made. He realizes that it's also Aventurine's subtle, desperate test for Ratio's true feelings. So he doesn't even bother to say yes, he goes directly to planning.

They finally end up going to Sigonia. Imagine the most tragic road trip ever. "In this valley, most of my people were brutally massacred." "Behind that rock my mother died in my arms,"  "And that's where I said goodbye to my sister forever,"  "This is where I've been cought", "Over there are the ruins of the town where they sold me into slavery." Meanwhile, Ratio is quietly panicking: ("Veritas, you stupidest person ever, say something reassuring. Hold his hand. Do something")

At the end of the day, he would end up awkwardly putting his hand around Aventurine's shoulders. They'd just silently sit like this looking at the sunset.

(at first it ended here but then I decided to lighten the mood, so…)

Part 2. After that, Ratio would realize that it's time for Aventurine to meet his parents. He would introduce Aventurine as a "collegue", to his amusement. As far as I know, there is no info on Ratio's family, so the following is pure HC. I like to think that his parents are alive and well. They are weird and quirky, and they love their son in their way, and they are beyond happy that their son has finally found a "colleague".

Cue all the most cheesy and stereotypical "meeting the parents" tropes. Them immediately referring to Aven as Ratio's boyfriend (you are not fooling anybody, doc). Them being a bit skeptical of Aven first ("Our little Veri deserves only the best"). Followed by the obligatory nine circles of humiliation hell for poor Ratio, with all the child photos and embarassing stories ("Here he's 5, he's dressed up as Nuos for the Autumn Spirit Festival", "And here is him getting his first quantum nanoscope for his 9th birthday (a photograph of an awkward lanky child with thick glasses and brackets)", "Veritas, dear, remember that time when you got accepted into all these prestigious schools you applied to and cried all night because you couldn't decide which one to choose"). Them besieging poor Aventurine with all kinds of questions about himself (he'd end up sharing much more about himself than he intended to). The parents getting absolutely charmed by Aven and immediately taking him under their wing ("Feel free to call us whenever Veritas decides to be difficult", "Visit us anytime, you can come alone, we know that our son apparently has more important things to do than visiting his poor old parents")

("Oh and here are socks Grandma knitted for you both when she heard that you were about to visit")

Meanwhile, aventurine.exe has stopped working 5 minutes after meeting them, not fully able to comprehend what's going on (these weird people are so unlike his own parents, yet being with them feels so painfully familiar, and this long forgotten feeling of being a part of something big, safe, and accomodating, is it what having a family feels like?, why are they so warm and welcoming to somebody they just met, and why is Ratio so comically embarassed, shouldn't he be the happiest person ever with parents like that?)