#im moving blogs i need a fresh start

[opens-up-4-nobody]

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[arachnidcakery]

Good evening, everypony! <3

As of today, I'm gonna be officially (mostly) moving blogs! :3  You can now find me at @spiderrcakezzz

(ik it's the same username I previously had for this blog but Shh)

I won't be deleting this blog any time soon currently (since I'm pretty sentimental over it rn), so I plan to use it for stuff like stimboards and xenogender flags! :3

Thanks for reading and understanding! <33  I hope you have a good rest of your day/night! ♡♡ ૮꒰⌒ᆺ⌒꒱ა

[froggibus]

Hay, I recently found your stuff on here. I really like your writing. I'm not really sure how the request works? I hope i'm doing it right:)

Can you do DC characters/Batboys finding readers self-harm scar's/marks and how they react

(I've struggled with self-harm off and on for a long time, and at least for me, I've kind of like thinking about how my favorite characters would react/try and support)

Also, if you do, can you do some about Mark some on the thighs. it's hard to find stuff about other then on the arms

Im dyslexic, so I'm sorry if this doesn't make sense.

Leaping Into The Light - Batboys + Wally West

Pairing: Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Tim Drake x reader, Wally West x reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.4k (Dick), 1.3k (Tim), 1.5k (Jason) and 1.2k (Wally)

Summary: their reaction when they see your old self-harm marks/scars

CW: mentions of self-harm (past), self-harm scars (thighs mostly), awkward conversations, embarrassment, mental health, allusions to depression and suicidal thoughts, injury & blood (not from SH), insomnia, nightmares, Wally walks in on you changing, maybe some corny dialogue, mentions of sensory problems, recovery and healing this is at least the second fic ive wrote where Jason brings you chinese food--no clue why.

hi lovely, hope you're doing alright :) so sorry its taken me so long to get to this, january was a bitch for me. i also struggled on and off with self-harm before starting this blog, so writing this was incredibly personal to me <3 thank you for requesting, and i want you to know that my inbox is always open if you ever need to vent i really wanted to go for a more recovery-based fic where you're healing. i wanted to show that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, it does get better, we do recover. you will be okay.

Dick:

It’s a rare, sunny morning in Bludhaven when you wake up and stretch your limbs. The sunlight filtering through the window catches on the bare length of your arms, casting brilliant patterns across your skin.

A newfound warmth filters through your apartment as you pad across the wooden floors and make your way to the kitchen. The sunlight seems to follow you, dancing across walls, door handles and cupboards as if saying hello.

The sight of Dick Grayson hunched over a laptop greets you at the kitchen island, his black hair almost brown in the morning light. 

He offers you a sleepy smile, “I made coffee.”

Your eyes move from his pyjama clad figure to the fresh pot of coffee sitting on the counter, tufts of steam still flowing from its spout. A smile breaks across your face, your eyes falling shut as you inhale the scent of fresh coffee.

Yeah, it’s going to be a good day.

Dick watches you from over the rim of his ‘World’s Best Detective’ coffee mug, blue eyes tracing your figure as you shuffle around the kitchen.

Dick watches as you cut open one of the croissants you’d picked up from the bakery yesterday and slather it in a generous coating of butter. He watches as you open the cupboard above the coffee machine, the one where you guys keep your dishes, and stretch up on your tippy toes to reach your favorite mug. 

This is his favorite part of any day—watching you. The soft domesticity of the morning blankets him, soothes him. It’s his daily reminder that there’s still good in the world around him.

His eyes stay on you as your fingers brush the handle of your mug, tugging it towards you little by little. He watches as it slides to the edge, your fingers just barely grasping it and—shit. He watches as the mug falls from the cupboard, shattering on the edge of the counter into a dozen pieces, the largest of which embeds itself in your leg. 

Everything happens so fast, you barely have any time to react. The ceramic shard slices through the leg of your pyjama pants and you keel over, clenching the skin of your thigh. The pain is searing and carries an unfortunate familiarity that has tears bubbling up in your eyes.

Dick’s at your side within seconds, an arm wrapping beneath your shoulders to keep you steady. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.” You suck in a breath and risk glancing down at your leg, noting the splotch of red starting to soak through the fabric of your pants.

A sigh slips from your lips. So much for today being a good day.

Dick’s hand wraps around your own, positioning your fingers on either side of the wound. “Here,” he says calmly, “try and apply as much pressure as you can.”

Dick guides you to the bathroom with a steady confidence that only someone who’d trained under Bruce could have. He helps you onto the bathroom counter, your legs splayed out in front of him.

“Keep applying pressure,” he commands. 

You watch as he ducks beneath you, rummaging through the cupboard to pull out the first aid kit you’ve seen him use countless times. A weak laugh bubbles up inside of you—usually it’s the other way around. 

Dick holds up the kit triumphantly, dark strands of hair bouncing as he stands. He fixes you with a grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, the familiar blue filled with concern.

You force a smile despite the aching skin of your thigh. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” you assure him. “It's just a flesh wound.”

It’s not the physical pain that has tears pricking your eyes and thoughts racing around your head. No, it’s the reminder that comes with it. The flashbacks of nights spent entirely alone, of nights where the world was too quiet and your thoughts were too loud. 

Dick exhales in what seems to be a laugh, the tension in his shoulders falling. “Alright then,” he rubs his thumb along the seam of your pants, “let’s get these off before they get stained even more.”

You’re quick to agree, if only to not make him worry even more. You scoot to the edge of the counter and let Dick hook his thumbs into your waistband. The action is so casual but so intimate, and it has heat rushing through you.

The warm air of the apartment meets the bare skin of your thighs and Dick’s hands still. Realization flashes through you and by instinct alone, you grip the fabric of your pants and try to force it back up your legs. Dick catches your hands in his, gripping them just tightly enough to keep you from moving.

The pain of your wound is forgotten, replaced by a sudden surge of embarrassment. Your gaze lingers on your thighs, on the scarred skin that reminds you of the hardest time in your life.

Your mouth is impossibly dry as you force yourself to look at Dick. You expect disappointment, that annoying older brother look you’ve seen him use a thousand times. You’re wholly unprepared for the softness in his gaze, the kindness and warmth that radiates off him.

“Dick,” you say softly, ready to explain yourself. “It’s not…I’m not—”

You’re thankful when he cuts you off.

“You don’t have to explain yourself.”

You scrunch your nose. “But—”

He brushes a thumb across the faded marks, his touch delicate and firm. “It’s alright. I know what these mean.” A new intensity flickers through his eyes, but as soon as you see it, it’s gone. “Let’s get you patched up.”

Dick kneels down and gets to work soaking up the blood while you stare at his working hands in confusion. You’d told him before about the hard times you went through, the mental state you were in.

That was part of the reason you moved in together—so Dick could help you and keep a better eye on you. But you’d never told him about the self-harm or the scars that speckled your skin.

Yet, his reaction is so normal it has your head spinning.

He finishes wiping up the blood and gets to work disinfecting it. The rubbing alcohol stings but the burn is quickly snuffed out by polysporin.

“It’s been a while.” The words tumble out before you can stop them. “Sometimes I still think about it, miss it, even. That probably sounds strange but…it’s hard sometimes.”

Dick glances up at you but says nothing. 

“I-I have bad nights sometimes, and it’s all I can think about. But it helps. Living here with you, I mean. It helps.”

Dick secures a thick piece of gauze over the wound, patting it gently to ensure it stays in place. “You don’t have to hide it, you know.”

“I know, but—” You sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut. “You already have so much on your shoulders, with work and your family and…other things. The last thing I want to do is weigh you down even more.”

He rests his hands on your thighs and levels you with a serious look. “That’s ridiculous. The only thing that would hold me down is knowing that you’re hurting alone. You’re so incredibly important to me, how could you ever think you’d be a burden to me?”

“I don’t know, I just—”

“I want to take care of you, I want to help you.” He traces circles across your skin with his thumb, “I don’t want you dying in the dark, y/n.”

Tears prick your eyes once more, a heavy warmth settling into your chest. “Dick…”

“C’mere.”

He pulls you into his chest, settling between your legs at the counter. One of his hands wraps around your neck, petting the back of your head slowly. 

“Just promise me this,” his voice is soft. “If it gets bad and you need help, promise you’ll reach out. Call me, come to me—whatever. We don’t even have to talk about it, just let me help you. Please.”

You nod quickly, burying your face further into his chest. Don’t want you dying in the dark, his words echo inside your head. 

Within the warmth of his arms, you can’t help but feel that this is a step forward, and with Dick by your side, you’ll be leaping into the light in no time.

Jason:

It’s midnight when Jason Todd comes banging on your door, takeout bags in hand. Despite the late hour, he still sports his day clothes—grey cargo pants and a black compression shirt over a pair of combat boots.

Setting your book down on the couch, you stumble to the door as quickly as you can, if only to keep his incessant banging from waking your neighbours. You swing the door open and raise an eyebrow, silently demanding an explanation.

“Hey.” He holds out the takeout bags for you to take, “have you eaten yet?”

“At midnight on a Saturday? Yes.”

In spite of yourself, you reach out and take the bags from his hands. You shuffle back into your home, gesturing to him to follow after you.

Jason shuts your door behind him and locks it in one, smooth motion that has you wondering if he’s been here one too many times. You try not to dwell on it, just like you try not to think about how easily he finds a spot on your shoe rack—the same one he always uses—and seats himself on a stool at your counter.

Jason watches while you unpack the takeout, cardboard contains billowing with steam lining your counters. The scent of fresh Chinese food fills the room, a heavy sort of comfort settling over it.

“So,” you say, propping yourself on your tiptoes to reach the last container in the bag, “what brings you over?”

He shrugs, his broad shoulders falling heavily. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Just thought I’d check in.”

A frown flashes over your face but you quickly mask it with a tight lipped smile and a nod. It has been a while, and any hope that Jason wouldn’t notice is immediately snuffed out. 

“I’ve had a lot on my plate.”

It’s a half-truth at best but you’re not quite sure what else to say, how else to explain what you’ve gone through lately. 

Jason squints, examining you. If it was anyone else, they might not have noticed something was wrong. They probably wouldn’t notice the shadows beneath your eyes, or the slight shake to your hands as you bring out plates and cutlery. If it was anyone else, they’d probably believe you.

But Jason doesn’t.

You get to work dishing up a plate, sucking in a breath when Jason sidles up next to you to dish himself up. The sudden proximity has the breath leaving your body and heat climbing the back of your neck. God—how long has it been since you touched another person? Since you’ve seen another person?

You force the feelings down and finish grabbing your food, making your way to the couch you’ve been rotting on for days. A small stack of books and a few empty glasses scatter the side table—clear evidence of your struggle.

Jason sits at the opposite end of the couch, balancing his plate on his lap. You don’t miss the way his eyes skim over the room, taking everything in. He takes a bite of his fried rice but his blue eyes remain on you.

He clears his throat. “That’s a good one,” he points with his fork at a romance book near the bottom of your pile. “A little racy for my tastes, but the worldbuilding was insane.”

“Something’s a little too racy for you?”

“Hey,” he rolls his eyes, “believe it or not, I do have standards.”

Joy swells in your chest and threatens to bring tears to your eyes. You’ve shut yourself away for so long, you’d almost forgotten what normalcy feels like. But this? You and Jason, eating takeout and talking about books on your couch? That’s the most normal thing in the world to you. 

You snort. “Sure you do.”

“I do!” He protests. “I loved the first four books, but that one? My god. Half the book was just them going at it.”

You laugh, your chest aching with longing. You missed this, god, you missed this, One minute you’re laughing over Jason’s review and the next you’re sobbing, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Your voice cracks, a horribly cry ripping free of your throat.

“Woah, woah.”

Jason’s voice is soft, a beacon of light in the sudden storm of emotions that’s gripped you. He sets his plate on the coffee table, scooching down the length of the couch to your side.

“I don’t, I can’t—” 

“Hey,” he says calmly, taking your half eaten plate from your hands and setting it on your side table. “It’s alright. Shh, it’s alright.”

You let yourself slump into the couch, your feelings eating away at your physical strength. Jason throws an arm around you, pulling you into his side. The warmth of his body floods you.

You sob and Jason speaks, though you don’t quite catch what he’s saying. The world around you fades to a mosaic of tears and sorrow and guilt. Your heart is so heavy in your chest you worry it might fall out and drag you down with it.

“Talk to me,” Jason says softly. “Please.”

A calloused hand lifts to your cheek, wiping away wet tears. You want to give in to his touch so bad, give into what he’s saying. But how can you take his comfort when you’ve avoided him for weeks? When you’ve pushed yourself so far away that it feels like there’s no hope of coming back?

You tear yourself away from his grip, forcing yourself to your feet. Your hands shake as you turn to face him. When your eyes meet, his are filled with something entirely new to you—concern.

“I-I can’t.”

He sets his jaw. “Why not? You’ve been away from me for so long, you’ve been avoiding me,” he forces himself to keep his voice level. “I just want to know why. I just want to help you.”

His sudden pleading tone has you freezing in your tracks. You look at him seriously, “swear?”

“Swear.”

You sigh and slip your fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants. For a second, you clench your fists, trying to ground yourself. The world around you seems to still as you tug your pants down, shimmying out of them until they lay in a pool around your ankles.

Jason watches silently, his head cocked to the side in visible confusion. It’s only when you self-consciously rub a hand over the skin of your left thigh does he notice.

The breath leaves his body, his lungs squeezing so tight he’s afraid they might burst. He’s no stranger to scars—he has at least a few dozen himself—but these are entirely different. 

The scars scatter the surface of both thighs, long and thin. Most are completely healed, some just barely finishing the process. The size, the shape, the distance…intentional is the only word that comes to mind.

Jason feels his heart break in his chest but he can’t bring himself to look away. You’re hurt—you’re hurting, and he can’t do a damn thing to help. “Y/n,” he says softly.

You shrink beneath his gaze. You can’t think of a single time he’s looked at you like this—scared and worried and broken. It has the guilt rising in your throat once more, threatening to suffocate you.

“I’m better,” you try to assure him, your voice hoarse from crying. “I’m getting better. It was bad but—I’m getting better now. I-I’m okay. I swear.”

You wait for him to say something, anything. You wait for the anger, for a lecture about how stupid and dangerous this can be. You wait for him to scoff at your problems. 

You’re utterly shocked when Jason falls to his knees in front of you, head tilting up to look at you with an expression you’ve never seen before.

“Jason…”

“This is why you’ve been avoiding me?”

You nod slowly, as if moving slower will keep the ice from breaking.

“Fuck, y/n, why didn’t you—god, you should know that I of all people would understand.” He traces a finger across a particularly fresh scar, “this isn’t something you needed to hide from me. This isn’t something you ever have to hide from me.”

“I—”

“I’m not finished.”

You’re taken aback, the words ripped straight from your mouth. 

“Let me help you. Come to me and let me help you. Don’t shut yourself away in the dark and suffer all by yourself.” He runs his fingers through his hair, cracking the ghost of a smile, “god, who are you, me?”

A half-laugh, half-sob leaves you. “I just don’t like bothering people.”

“You think you could annoy me? You overestimate yourself, y/n. The only people who annoy me are Waynes and Wayne-adjacent.”

He rises to his feet in front of you and tugs you into his chest before you can react. His grip on you is tighter than usual, the warmth of his arms threatening to consume you. 

“You’ll come to me next time you feel this way, yeah?” He says, and he feels you nod against his chest. “Swear?”

“Swear.”

Tim:

Your chest burns as you sit up in bed, lungs heaving as they try to force some air into your body. Your ribs ache from the way your heart hammers against them.

Rubbing your aching eyes, you force yourself to swing your legs over the side of your bed and reach for your lamp. The light comes on with a click, illuminating the walls of your room. Finally, you manage to take a deep breath, the cold air soothing your burning chest.

It was just a dream. You’re safe here. But the words taste bitter and empty, the images you’d seen while you were asleep still spinning around your head. You rub at the exposed skin of your thighs where the seam of your shorts come to an end. The friction barely manages to warm you among the cold night air.

Before you can even think, your feet are meeting the ground and you’re padding across the room. You hesitate for just a second when your hand meets the door handle, but the hesitation melts into need and you continue on your way.

Your steps are quiet through the hallway, unimposing. When you find yourself facing the closed door, identical to yours, you knock softly. Once, twice, and then the door is swinging open.

Tim stands on the other side, bleary eyed and messy haired from sleep. He yawns, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “Hey,” his voice is raspy, “everything alright?”

“I can’t sleep.”

It’s all you have to say before he’s opening the door as wide as it goes, gesturing you to the disheveled navy covers of his bed spread. The sleepiness fades from his body as he watches you closely, examining your every movement.

Your eyes are red-rimmed and sweat beads along your temples. Despite wearing pyjamas—patterned shorts and a t-shirt that looks suspiciously like one of his—they don’t look wrinkled with sleep like they should be. 

Tim frowns. Something’s wrong, and it’s more than not being able to sleep.

He shuffles in after you, closing the door and clicking the lock behind him. His examination continues as he reaches the bed and crawls in next to you. You fit together so easily, so perfectly, it’s hard to believe this is the first time you’ve ever sought him out.

In all the time you’ve known each other, never once have you ever gone to Tim when you can’t sleep. He’s known about your sleep problems for a while, from even before you’d told him. Yet, never once have you asked for his help.

Until tonight.

Tim’s arms fall easily around you, one gently across your waist, the other falling on the side of your thigh. You’re so tired, so shaken from your dream, your head falls easily into his pillows and your eyes flutter shut. 

It’s not so much sleep that hits you as much as it is contentment. Tim’s hand trails up and down the side of your thigh, fingers exploring the soft skin while he tries to soothe you to sleep.

His hand shuffles sideways, just a tiny bit more, and then pauses. His fingertips graze something rough, something raised slightly, and the breath leaves his body. His hand trails further and he’s met with another, almost perfectly parallel to the first.

No, it can’t be.

Trying not to startle you, he moves the arm around your waist as slowly as he can. His fingertips make their way up his own body, finding their way to the scar on his abdomen from when he lost his spleen. He swipes his thumb over the area, feeling the rough patch of raised skin.

His other hand trails over your thigh again, feeling the rows of similar skin. For a moment, he swears the world stops turning.

The feeling is unmistakable, and even though it’s dark and he hasn’t laid eyes on them, he knows exactly what they are.

He wraps his arm around your waist once more and pulls you closer. “Y/n,” he whispers.

You whimper, the exhaustion weighing heavily on you. Tim’s hand rubs over the scars on your thigh once more, and suddenly your weariness is replaced with an icy feeling in your veins.

You sit up abruptly, forcing your body away from his. 

“Y/n.”

You gasp, looking up at him through teary lashes. You draw your knees into your chest, the pressure helping soothe the sudden cold in your chest. You bury your face between your knees.

The longer Tim stays silent, the worse your anxiety gets. You wait for the familiar cold logic, for the warmth to fall away and the sarcastic, callous detective to show up. You expect it any second.

But Tim does something that surprises you even more.

He wraps an arm around you, letting your head lean on your shoulder, and murmurs, “how long has it been?”

It takes a few seconds for you to gather your bearings and realize what he’s asking. You blink a few times, slowly unfurling your body. Though you know it’s too dark for him to see the scars, you see his eyes fall on your bare thighs anyway.

“A while,” you admit. “It comes and goes.”

He rubs his hand up and down your arm. “Is that why you came to me?”

You swallow, remembering the horrid dream you’d had earlier. “Partially.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” 

The pet name takes you by surprise, washing away the cold shame that threatened to drown you. You relax further into Tim’s side, relishing in the heat of his body.

“It’s not as bad as it seems,” you say quietly. “I know it’s bad, that I shouldn’t do it. And I try not to. I’ve been really good about that lately. It’s just…”

Tim stays silent as you trail off, trying to find the right words to explain yourself. He keeps rubbing the skin of your arm, as if reminding you that he’s still there.

“Things get hard sometimes. I don’t like asking for help, because I don’t want anyone to think less of me, or think I have problems and—”

“Why would anyone ever think less of you?”

His words stun you out of your speech, every thought you had falling away. You take a few deep breaths, letting them echo around your head.

“God, this is so hypocritical of me but,” he sighs, “there’s nothing wrong with needing support or asking for help. You’re not any worse off because you needed a little comfort on a bad day, you’re not a burden just because you’re hurting.”

“I just—”

“You came to me tonight because you needed comfort, right?” He gestures around the room, “did anything bad happen because of that?”

You shake your head.

“Did I question you at all, or make you feel like it was a problem?”

Realization dawns on you. “No.”

“That’s because it’s not a problem, you’re not a problem. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling, but the first step to feeling better is helping yourself.” He offers you a sleepy smile, “and that’s what you did tonight. You helped yourself by asking for help.”

“Tim…”

“I’m really proud of you for coming to me tonight, y/n. Whether it was consciously or not.”

A stray tear rolls down your cheek, his kind words washing over you in waves. 

“Keep coming to me when you need it. Let me shoulder your problems with you. Please.”

The sudden plea catches you off guard and suddenly more tears are falling down your face. You wrap your arms around Tim and let your head fall into his shoulder, burying your face into the side of his neck.

He holds you tighter, letting you cry it all out.

Wally:

The sound of rain on your window seems to taunt you as you struggle out of your soaking wet jeans. The fabric sticks to your skin, chafing as you try to force it away from the chilled skin of your legs. 

As if the sudden torrential downpour that had ruined any hopes of a morning breakfast run wasn’t bad enough, now you seemed to be forever trapped in your sensory nightmare—wet denim. A groan of frustration leaves your lips as you abandon your jeans and instead tug away the sopping fabric of your t-shirt.

Goosebumps rise across your damp skin the minute the air touches it. You shiver slightly and wrap your arms around yourself, stumbling across the room to find a sweatshirt.

You settle on one you’d stolen from Wally months ago that you’re partially convinced he’d stolen from Dick. Still, the worn cotton warms your skin as you make the trek across your room and to the full-body mirror resting against a wall. 

You use the guidance of your reflection to peel away your jeans, shimmying awkwardly until finally the heavy fabric gives way. They land in a wet plop on the floor, splattering water that you can’t be bothered to clean up.

Just as you turn away from the mirror, one of the shiny scars on your thigh catches the light and draws your attention back to it. You frown, pulling the marked skin of your leg tight, examining the scars in the mirror. 

Most are small and thin, luckily not bad enough to leave more than a faded, dark mark on the skin. You cringe at the ones that are worse—raised and puffy and shiny in the centre. They’re still healing, you remind yourself.

“Hey, no way you’re still changing in here—” the door clicks open and Wally’s voice trails off.

You whip your head to him, watching as he stumbles into the room. A flush falls across his face. His eyes trail over you, tracing your figure, falling onto your underwear and the uncovered skin around it.

Wally freezes, green eyes glued to the scars you’d just been examining. His brows scrunch together, his lips twisting into a frown.

Oh, goddamn. 

Any other time, Wally would feel mortified—and somewhat blessed—to walk in on you changing. He’d cover his eyes and stumble around awkwardly, mumbling out some goofy apology laced in innuendos. 

It’s clear now from the frown on his face and the hard set solemnity in his eyes that that Wally is gone. 

He’s at your side before you can react, falling to his knees in front of you. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Did someone—”

His words trail off, his face falling as realization dawns across his features. He traces a thumb across the biggest of the scars and you swear you see tears prick at his eyes.

“Wally, it’s not—”

“It’s not what?” He looks up at you seriously. 

And you pause, reconsidering your words. Wally’s always been the kind one, the goofy one, the comedic relief. It’s rare that you see him serious, rare that he wavers like this.

You lower yourself to the ground beside him, cringing at the unpleasant cold meeting the bare backs of your legs. Wally keeps his focus on your thighs, fingers tracing over every scar, every mark, like he could somehow erase them.

You stay entirely still next to him, letting him calm himself with your touch. “It’s not really something I do anymore,” you say quietly.

His hand stills, the warmth of his clammy palm resting on your upper thigh. In any other situation, it would feel intimate. But right now, all it feels like is a slap to the face. 

“I still have bad days, but I manage. This,” you gesture to your skin,“was a last resort. I know it looks bad, really bad, and that it probably seems so—so stupid compared to what you face and—”

His voice is barely a whisper. “It’s not stupid.”

You scrunch your nose. The normal, goofy Wally you’d just gotten caught in a rainstorm with is gone, and you’d give anything to bring him back right now. 

“You don’t have to be a superhero to be hurt, y/n.” He clasps your hand tightly. “I know I joke a lot but I am capable of being serious. Especially when the people I love are concerned.”

He looks at you so intensely when he says the word love that it sends shivers down your spine. You can’t bear to meet his gaze. His hands find your waist, tugging you to sit between his legs. It scares you how easily you settle into him, how well you fit together.

You sit in silence for a moment, letting the beat of his racing heart thump against your back.

“I can’t stand to see you hurt, or know that you were hurt. Emotionally, physically, whatever.”

“I’m doing okay now,” you offer him a weak smile. “It’s rough sometimes, but I’m okay now.”

His shoulders slump slightly, but his jaw remains clenched in an un-Wally way. You can’t help but wish in this moment that you could have his powers, if only so you could run to the past and stop this from happening.

“You could’ve told me. I might have made a few stupid jokes but you could’ve told me. God, I want you to tell me. I want you to want to tell me.”

“Wally.”

“I want to help you, y/n. Always. Please,” he sighs, “please, want my help. Let me make you want my help.”

And for a moment, you see a glimpse of an awkward teenager. You see a yellow costume and a scared kid just trying his best to help people. To save people. You see sleepless nights and the burden of a power that makes him both the fastest man alive, but never fast enough to save the people who matter most to him. To save you.

“I just don’t know where to start,” you admit quietly.

He wraps his arms tighter around you, crushing your body against his. “You start here. You start today. You start with me.”

You cross your arms over his in what you hope is a gesture of affection. 

“Say the word,” he leans in so his mouth is only inches from your ear, his voice dropping an octave, “and I’ll be there for you as soon as you need me. Ask for my help and I’ll be there in, well, a flash.”

You can’t help but laugh at his pun. It’s dumb and silly and so unserious for such an uncomfortable, serious moment. But it’s Wally and it’s you and his joke has you thinking that maybe, maybe things really can be okay.

“I care about you so much. All I want is for you to be happy. Got it?”

“Got it,” you echo.

He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head before loosening his grip on you, rising to his feet. He offers you a hand, helping you stand up.

“Now,” he grins, “let’s say we forget the pants, and order in some breakfast, hm?”

thanks so much for reading! ^^

masterlist | dc masterlist

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

May i request this but with jack, jamil, and trey? (If u can leona too but if not im totally okay with those three cuz i simp for them so hard lol) gn! Pretty plz and thank you :D

I actually think it's been over a year since this ask appeared in my inbox... I have been considering shutting this blog down but at this point I think it's dead in the water anyways 😭... um enjoy?

Jack is a pretty large guy so that being said he doesn’t shirk his responsibilities when it comes to taking care of his partner

Not only is he extremely careful before and during the act, he is incredibly attentive to your needs afterwards

He always takes care of you first and himself afterwards no matter how uncomfortable it may be

Jack always starts with asking you how you are feeling and what-if anything-you could possibly want or need at that moment

Only then does he start futsing around the room looking for stuff and cleaning up

He wants to give you a second to just rest afterwards and he’s tired himself but as soon as he comes off the high all he can see is his partner looking tired and disheveled and he immediately wants to fix that

After waiting patiently and somewhat painfully for you to come down and finish resting he quickly swoops in and does all the rest for you

Bath? Check. Cozy towel large enough to drown you in? Check. Fresh bedding and blankets so you can rest again when clean? Check. Clothes in the laundry? Check. Fresh comfy clothes ready for you in the bathroom? Check.

This man is so shy he gets the bath ready for you and then leaves, telling you to lock the door as if anyone could get past him

It’s almost like he didn’t just see you fully bare

You have to ask him to come in and wash your hair otherwise he will wait outside to make sure you feel comfortable and that you have your own privacy

All in all: a big softie who loves you too much to put into words

Trey is another softie when it comes to aftercare

He is one of the most considerate and kind individuals you will ever meet (at NRC that is) 

Regardless he is exceptionally thoughtful and would NEVER let you go without some sort of care after doing it

Trey prefers to move you off the bed for aftercare because he doesn’t want you to sit in the potentially dirty sheets for too long

He thinks it’s very important that you clean yourself off thoroughly after sex

He will run a bath or start a shower or whatever you prefer and ask if you would like his help or some privacy

If you ask for help he will be very respectful as if your body doesn’t affect him at all (although you know better) and carefully soap up a rag and wipe you down\

He is the kind of man that has chemical free soaps for situations where you might have to wipe down more intimate areas to avoid potentially irritating them

And you will clean those intimate areas as he will clean his as well, not because he is a germ freak, he just gets concerned about infections: your health is always the most important thing to him

His next step will always be changing the sheets while you are still showering or bathing, he wants you to be able to relax on a fresh bed while he pampers you

After that? It’s all up to what you are interested in, a massage, reading, watching tv, just relaxing? You got it

Of course he will have a sweet treat prepared along with a second glass of water (cause you know he made you drink one immediately afterwards)

You have to get some sugar and energy into your system after exerting so much energy and he is firm in this belief no matter how energized you feel afterwards

Overall he is a 10/10 in and out of bed

Jamil is less flexible when it comes to aftercare, not in a bad way, he is just very set in what he believes you need and will require that you let him take care of you that way or he WILL refuse further intimacy

(He’s manipulative like that)

All that said it’s really all because he’s used to dealing with Kalim who doesn’t take his own health into consideration nearly enough as he should and his controlling tendencies typically make themselves known when it comes to aftercare

He has very specific steps that he follows and really you should just let him because they are all catered to your needs and health

Everytime you guys are together he has some level of preparation: there's a snack and water on the bedside table and a rag in a dish of warm water, and a clean dry one to follow

He will wipe you down nearly immediately afterwards no matter how tired he is, he cannot allow you to be sticky or get an infection

You are allowed to relax and rest with him in bed after that but only afterwards

But not for too long because Scarabia is very hot and if you guys are in his room he wants to change the sheets as soon as possible and he does this by running you a bath in his private bathroom

He adds a sensitive-skin chemical-free bath bomb and allows you to just relax for a hot second while he cleans up his room

Of course he checks in with you every few minutes because Kalim fell asleep in the bathtub once and now he fears you might do the same and accidentally slip under

When he has finished cleaning the room he turns his full attention to you, making sure you are washed and dried with gentleness and accuracy

His special form of aftercare though is something completely unique to him

He wants to do your hair

It doesn’t matter what color, length, type at all he will know how to take care of it and will do so with surprising care

He uses a quiet blow dryer/diffuser and combs out your hair till it's perfectly untangled

He uses scalp oils and hair mousse and anything else he feels the need to add and afterwards sometimes depending on how he feels he will add little braids and charms

Jamil misses doing his own hair every morning before he learned how to do it with magic, it was how he relaxed and prepared himself for another long day at work. It was something he could take his time in and be as controlled or as free as he wanted with it, so of course he wants to give you the experience he loved do much

Another 10/10 with aftercare and general caretaking but that was to be expected from someone as prepared as Jamil

Ok don’t get me wrong, Leona cares a ton, he just has no clue what he is doing at all

He is still ridiculously sweet in his own gruff “I’m pretending I don’t care about you but if you so much as wince I’ll carry you everywhere for a week” sort of way

Definitely did not pay attention in Sex-ed so he doesn’t know squat past the basics of the actual act

He is naturally prone to foreplay to some degree so it’s not so bad the first few time you do it

After that one time you disappeared into his bathroom for a while and confessed that you were a little sore the next day he freaked out…on the inside

He maybe sort of gently refused sex for a little while out of concern and confusion

Once he realized he couldn’t just ignore the problem and wait for it to go away he resigned himself to researching aftercare methods

He was hesitant to try them out at first but still made an effort

Started with having some water by his bed for you or offering to let you take a bath and slowly but surely got better

His care is still pretty minimal though, it pretty much consists of getting you clean and comfortable and then cuddling with you until he decides it's acceptable for you to leave

Despite this, he is always careful with you even when he is being “rough”, he wouldn’t admit it but you are his world and if he ever did anything to you by accident, he would be devastated

Side Note: Ruggie refuses to change Leona’s sheets unless paid now so he always teases you afterwards but doesn’t really mind cause he’s getting something out of it lol 

[rafeandonlyrafe]

taken

words: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, crime boss!rafe, (former) stripper!reader, drug dealing, prostitution/sex club, multiple murders, guns, shooting, kidnapping, unprotected p in v sex, tit slapping, male receiving handjob, kind of rough sex? its not that intense idk

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

rafe stands on the upper balcony, his hands on the railing as he leans to look at the crowd moving below his feet, a mix of grinding and bumping bodies in various states of undress. his eyes search for you. he always searched for you in the crowd, making sure there is a smile on your face, and that there are no grabby hands touching parts of you that are well and solely his.

it wasn’t a crazy leap from what rafe did in his teenage years. moving from selling drugs to running a club. not just any club, of course. rafe called it a loose clothing policy club, but really it was constant sex parties behind the doors, doors that people pay a lot of money to get on the other side of. 

he, of course, kept up the lucrative drug business, but passed off the actual sale and deal to some underlings. it may not make him a completely legitimate businessman like his father, but it got him a hell of a lot closer to it, and the money got him a lot more respect as well. among the drug dealers and bartenders in his employ, he also has dancers. dancers who just happen to feel the urge to get on top of the bar and take their clothes off while the crowd cheers.

dancers don’t have to engage in any acts of sexual nature with the guests if they don't want to, but most choose to for the generous tips they give, on top of the wage rafe gives them. except for you. he hired you fresh out of college, with a bachelor's degree in arts that you had nothing you could do with, not while staying in north carolina at least. you were confident and beautiful, but you never went too far with any of the men or women who came into the bar, not until rafe approached you one night.

you’ve been his since. his girl, who he allows out on nights that he’s there to watch over you, not truly trusting even his security to keep you safe, just himself. he knows you like to drink and dance, and he’d never stop you from doing whatever you like to do, even if it means he’s internally seething with jealousy, glaring at every man who looks at you.

“sir.” the voice brings rafe out of his own head, looking over.

“what is it?” he questions, voice gruffer than he means for it to come out.

“one of the dealers wants to talk with you.” he replies. rafe would get upset, he hates being interrupted, but this is one of his best men. “he’s already in your office.”

“fine.” rafe sighs, eyes glancing back over the floor. “watch y/n.” he simply says before walking away, knowing he doesn’t need to get into the specifics of never looking away or letting anyone touch you.

“what do you want, martin?” rafe asks, slamming the door shut behind him, moving his hands to his hips, pushing his suit jacket out of the way, letting the gun that he keeps holstered on his hip be in plain sight, a warning and a reminder.

“i want to talk to you about the cut you’re taking.” martin responds, his eyes wild and crazy, and rafe has no doubt that he’s dipping into the drugs hes supposed to be selling. rafe knows the feeling well, but he got out of all of that once his mind started to lose focus too often, and the drugs got too irresistible.

“the cut i’m taking?” rafe questions. “of the drugs that i supply you?” “there wouldn’t be any money if it weren’t for me selling.” martin responds, his hands twitching on his knees, fingers grimy.

“you think i couldn’t have another seller lined up immediately? i can’t believe you’d bug me with this shit.” rafe groans. he wants to get his eyes back on you, immediately.

“wait!” martin says as rafe turns to the door. rafe has to take a deep breath to not deck him immediately, his hands clenching in a fist. “since you don’t want to give me a cut, i want $100k. for reimbursement.” rafe lets out a barking laugh, shaking his head. “and why would i do that?” “because if you don’t, i’m not gonna let your girl go.” martin says, a sick grin coming to his face. “my associate should be taking her out of the building right now, so it’s 100k or she-”

rafe doesn’t let martin finish his sentence. he doesn’t want to hear what is about to fall out of his gross mouth, he simply raises his gun and shoots him square between the eyes. martin falls to the ground, dead before he even realized that the gun was unholstered.

a group of rafes men rush into the office upon hearing the gunshot, but rafe doesn’t care about the body on the floor. “find y/n! immediately!” he shouts, pushing past all of them to rush down the stairs to the main level.

the club explodes into action, every crevice being searched for you. rafe rushes outside along with his men, eyes searching for anything suspicious, when he sees a black van speeding away. rafe doesn’t question his movements or the implications, raising his gun and shooting at the tire, causing the van to spin to a stop.

rafe runs over as quickly as his legs will carry him, throwing open the back doors of the van, his heart breaking when he sees you looking so small, hands tied together and gag shoved into your mouth, your eyes wide and clothing askew.

“shh, i’m here baby.” rafe says, grabbing you out of the van, undoing your hands carefully and taking the gag out of your mouth.

“rafe!” you sob, hiding your face in his shoulder as he picks you up, holding you against him, rubbing over your back even as his hands shake at the fact that he almost just lost you.

“it’s okay, i’m here.” rafe says, but you just continue to cry into his shirt.

“sir.” one of rafes men says. the one that he tasked to watch you, the one that let you out of his sight, let you get taken. “what do you want us to do with the driver?”

theres another dealer rafe recognizes, kneeling on the street, eyes flicking between rafe and the gun pointed at him. rafe doesn’t care if he could give more information, he hurt his girl, and that means only one fate is meant for him. rafe raises his gun and shoots the dealer himself, before turning it to his own man.

“no! sir, plea-” rafe doesn’t let him finish his sentence. you shudder and keep your face pressed against rafes shirt, knowing that you don’t want to see whatever just happened. 

“let this be a lesson on what happens if you ever cross me.” rafe says, addressing his men. “now clean this shit and my office up. i’m taking y/n home. i will get back in touch in the morning.”

rafe doesn’t bother going back inside. he walks straight to his car, setting you down in the passenger seat, sighing sadly when you curl up, rubbing at your wrists.

“i’m so sorry, baby.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to your hair before rounding the car, quickly turning it on and heading towards home.

he takes a deep breath once he’s passed the well secured gate, knowing that you’re more than safe in the walls of his mansion.

“do you want to talk about it?” rafe asks once he gets you inside, and onto the couch, a cup of water in our hand.

“it was just so scary.” you pout, eyes turning downward. “they grabbed me out of the crowd, and shoved that nasty rag in my mouth so i couldn’t scream.”

“i will kill everyone involved.” rafe says, and you know he’s serious. you press your hands to his cheeks, bringing him into a kiss. 

“it’s okay.” you whisper. your words won’t stop him, but you want to take some of the guilt away. “i knew you would save me.” “i should have protected you in the first pla-” 

“shh.” you interrupt rafe, pressing your lips together again. “can we get in the bath? together? please.” rafe nods, he’d do anything for you, he already had the bathroom ripped out and redone to fit a larger bathtub after he learned how much you love soaking in the warm water.

“let me carry you.” rafe stops you when you try to stand, scooping you into his arms. you look so little again, swallowed up against his big chest. it makes him think of you in that trunk, and he moves faster up the stairs, needing to be curled up against you in the tub, making you feel better.

“choose a bathbomb, honey.” rafe sets you down on the cool tile. “i restocked.” 

you hum a nod and look through the cabinet until you find a sparkly white bathbomb. you know rafe would usually complain about you usually using a glittery bathbomb when he was joining you, but today is the one day you can get away with it.

“this one.” you hand it to rafe, who drops it into the tub that he started filling with hot water.

“can i undress you?” rafe questions. you nod, knowing how much he likes to be the one to take your clothes off. he moves so slowly disrobing you, carefully putting your dress in the hamper, that when you’re nude, the bath is filled enough for you to get in.

you sigh happily as the warm water covers your body, watching rafe undress while the drama of the day washes away. it’s become a part of your reality, threats against you or rafe, but this is the most dangerous situation you’ve directly been in yet, and you know rafe needs to relax as much as you do.

rafe slides into the tub behind you, letting you rest against his chest. “you know i can only stand to be with you naked for so long before i’m going to need to take you out of this bath and fuck you.” “i know.” you say, swirling your hands through the sparkly water. “just at least 15 minutes just relaxing before.” “i can do that for you.” rafe says, and you both fall quiet, mind reeling from the day and just needing some rest. your eyes flutter closed, hands softly stroking over rafes thighs on either side of your hips. rafe leans his head against the back of the tub, allowing himself to take a breath.

the water starts to grow cold, and rafe is sure he must have reached the 15 minute mark by now, but you are leaning against him so peacefully he doesn’t want to move you, eyes checking over your wrists, noticing that they’re slightly red, even though you were only tied up for a few short minutes.

you begin to squirm, clearly noticing the cool water. 

“baby-” rafe gasps when your bum rubs against his crotch, and you feel him hardening.

you turn around in the tub to face him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “fuck me, rafe.” rafe stands quickly, grabbing the towel and drying himself off before helping you out of the tub, taking careful consideration to dry you as well, rubbing the soft towel over every inch of your body.

“we are all glittery.” you smile, admiring your shiny skin.

“you’re lucky i love you.” rafe says, making you blush. you know he didn’t take you in just to have sex with you, even if that was the main reason you became his girl at first, but because he had genuinely been interested in you.

“and i’m also lucky you’re going to fuck me.” you giggle, heading into the bedroom and letting yourself flop onto the bed, not caring that the dripping ends of your hair will wet the sheets, not with what you’re about to do on them.

 rafe walks slowly out of the bathroom, a feral look in his eyes, a shift happening inside of him, one from taking care of you, making you feel better, to one of needing you, needing to possess you and take you.

you watch as he approaches, climbing onto the bed and slotting his knees on either side of your hips, trapping you underneath him. rafes cock is now fully hardened, standing at attention as his heavy balls weigh down against your skin, clearly needing to be released, and you prefer that release to happen pumped inside of you.

his hands shoot forward to grip your tits, making you moan, his warm palms massaging your sensitive skin, letting your nipples rub against his hands. rafe is often quiet when fucking you, depending on how he is feeling. you can tell by the look in his eye that he’s got anger bubbling up inside of him, that needs a release, and you are here for using.

rafe leans forward, pushing his cock against the smooth skin of your stomach. rafe begins to rub his cock against your skin, letting it glide back and forth, the head of his cock smearing precum as his fingers pinch your nipple before rubbing over them.

he bends down to capture your mouth in a dominant kiss, and you let him take control, his tongue licking into yours, as you moan, arching your back as he grabs your tits hard, making you flinch amongst the pleasure.

rafe pulls away from the kiss, briefly bending to suck on your nipples into his mouth, just to add to the taste of you on his tongue. rafe picks up your hand, laying it over his cock, telling you without words what he wants you to do.

you press your hand down, letting him grind down between your palm and your stomach as his hand draws back and lays a slap across your tit, not hard enough to truly hurt, but enough to make you gasp. 

you move your free hand to the head of his cock, massaging it with your fingertips as rafe delivers another slap across your skin, before bringing his palm down to your other breast to even out the pain and pleasure.

rafe moans lowly when you swipe the pad of your finger over the slit at the tip of his cock, his hips starting to push faster, which just floods you with wetness, imagining him thrusting inside of you instead of against your stomach.

“please fuck me.” you whine. “make me yours rafe.”

rafe pulls away instantly, moving to kneel between your legs, grabbing your knees and pushing them up, bending you in half. “you’re mine.” rafe says, pushing his cock against your entrance, not even giving you a second to breathe before hes thrusting inside, filling you to the brim. “you’re mine.” he gasps again, beginning to thrust, your sloppy cunt producing wet noises. “no one is going to take you away from me.” you pout, knowing rafe is taking his aggression out right now, but he’s also working through his worry and anxiety about you being kidnapped again.

“i’m right here.” you tell rafe, placing your hands over his, helping him hold your legs up as his cock pushes in and out of your pussy at a rapid pace. “i’m right here.”

rafe lets out a half sob, half moan, wrapping his arms around your legs, needing to feel more of you against his body, even if it just is the back of your thighs and calves as he hugs your legs to him, continuing to push his dick into you, now touching at a new angle that has you crying out.

“rub your clit for me.” rafe grunts, throwing his head back, eyes making contact with the ceiling as he pants, trying to hold back from cumming until you’re ready as well. “need you to cum for me.” “yes, gonna cum for you rafey.” you push your hand between your tightly held together thighs, rubbing at your clit while his cock brutalizes your pussy.

your breath catches in your throat when your legs move slightly to the side, allowing to to see rafes face, chin still tilted slightly upward, his mouth ajar and his eyes glazed over with lust, looking like an angel despite all the devilish acts that he’s done, but everything he’s done today has been for you, and you certainly won’t forget the blood on his hands only there to protect you.

“i love you.” you cry out, tears streaming down your cheeks, your fingers moving faster on your clit, needing to cum for rafe and rafe alone, not caring about the pleasure you’re going to receive yourself, just getting yourself off so rafe can feel your cunt squeeze around him, so he can release inside of you.

“i love you more baby.” rafes voice is hoarse as his hips snap into you, a loud slap every time his hips touch your skin.

you let out a scream when your orgasm hits you suddenly, entire body tightening as rafe releases inside of you, your cunt pulsating as you slow your rub on your clit, milking everything out of rafe that he has to offer.

“fuck.” rafe sighs out, a coy look on his face as he lowers your legs down, rubbing over your thighs to make up for the position he put you in as he slowly slides his cock out of you.

rafe moves carefully to lay down next to you, not just wanting to flop down, considerate of his movements when you’re around anyways, but especially since you just went through something traumatic.

“come here.” rafe reaches out for you, and you slide into his embrace, your head coming to rest on his chest.

“you know you’re going to have to stay here in the house for a few days while i get this mess sorted out?” rafe asks, but it’s more of a statement.

“i know.” you say. it’s not like you’re happy about being locked up, but it’s for your safety. “i’m sorry.” rafe sighs. “when all of this is over, i’ll take you on a nice long vacation-”

“i’m not mad.” you say, picking your head up to look at rafe. “i knew exactly what i was getting into with you, with your business. i understand. you don’t have to apologize for keeping me safe.”

rafe smiles at you, his thumb rubbing over your cheek, wondering how he managed to get such a perfect girl before bringing you in for a kiss.

[vigilxnte-shit]

anxiety || matt murdock x reader

tuna-tober day 9

summary: inside out 2

word count: 815

warnings: BYE im finishing this half asleep at one am with 50 mg of zoloft in my system it’s not edited at all and also there is obviously anxiety mentions i might delete this in the morning okay bye 

a/n: largely based on my own experiences with anxiety so i hope i didn’t make it too specific!

this is an 18+ blog. minors dni. || masterlist

it started with your sleep schedule. 

you’d never been an early riser, staying up until the sunlight since you had learned how to read when you were six, always one to prefer the quiet and the dark to invasive sunlight and early-morning birdsong. the night had become a friend, a peaceful state in which you got to just be. you’d survived high school on four hours of sleep a night- that was how much you loved your quiet hours. 

but you weren’t in high school anymore. one four-hour night now rendered you a dysfunctioning zombie, and that was the most sleep you’d gotten in a single night this week. you’d spent your time at the office blinking a lot and picking up a fresh coffee cup every two hours. foggy had needed to take your fourth brew out of your hands, insisting he could practically hear your heartbeat, and it was about to jump out of your chest at this acceleration rate. 

you had walked home with matt, as per usual, hand in his as you “guided” him through the streets. he was good at keeping up the blind act, and you used that to zero in. you watched him tap his cane back and forth, nodded along to his stories, and threw in the occasional “yeah.” it was almost embarrassing, the way he was leading you instead, but your mind was not on the new york sidewalk with him. 

“is everything alright?” he’d asked at dinner, concern written in his sightless eyes. you’d just nodded and taken your next bite, taking your time chewing. 

“just a little anxious, is all.” 

he’d already known that. it was almost too obvious, actually, between the lack of sleep and the zoning out and the rising heart rate, but he hadn’t wanted to press. instead, he’d left for patrol with the best reassurances he could give you: that he’d be safe and back before you knew it, that he loved you and that he couldn’t wait to be back in your bed, but when he snuck out the window, the last shreds of your sanity clung to the tails of his black mask. when the devil left, the remaining demons were always harder to deal with. 

“do they hate me?” you thought. “karen and foggy. do they actually like me or do they just tolerate my presence for matt?” no, you reminded yourself, they’re my friends, they at least like me…

and the flood gates were opened. 

did they actually like you, or was it just courtesy? did you come up in conversations over beer at josies, and if you did, was it in a positive light? did they think you were incompetent? you certainly thought so- the way you still couldn’t figure out legal strategy, the way your messed up sleep patterns sometimes had you file things incorrectly. maybe you had answered a call incorrectly. wait, the phone lines had gone down a couple of days ago- maybe it was a miscommunication. they wouldn’t hold that against you, right? actually, on that note, had those been plugged in again properly? what if there was a fault in the wire? was the office on fire? no. that was ridiculous. you could check in the morning…you could call matt. he could stop by and check. of course you could, he’d be more than happy to, because he loved you.

…right?

that was the thought you couldn’t move past. the one that kept you awake, staring at your ceiling, analyzing every detail of every interaction you and matt had recently shared. he didn’t seem off, at least not in any typical matt sense, but maybe he was hiding it. how could he ever love someone who talked so much, who thought too much, who-

“sweetheart.” 

his low, gravelly voice instantly pulled you out of your stupor. 

“matty?” you asked softly. “you’re back early.” 

“couldn’t leave,” he admitted. “i’ve been outside the window. didn’t like how fast you were breathing.”

that was all he had to say. that was matt speak for “i know you need me”. you watched as he slowly changed, stripping down as casual as ever before pulling on a clean pair of boxers and jumping in bed with you. 

without a word, you snuggled up to his chest. he held you close against him, his hand cupping your skull in a protective gesture. 

“we gotta figure this out,” he said softly. “get you some meds, or a therapist, or something.” 

you nodded. you didn’t have the energy for anything else. 

with a smile and a soft kiss to your temple, he whispered to you. 

“close your eyes. let’s rest that pretty head, yeah? we’ll talk about this in the morning.” 

but his sentence was only heard by the surrounding air, filled with the sounds of your even breath. 

the best medicine for your racing heart was his.

[vase-of-lilies]

Bubbles Baths and Babbles

❀ Mommy!Natasha x Little!Reader (F)

❀ Age Regression, sick reader, flu like symptoms (lol not covid), puke (sorry), fluff and more fluff ^-^ 

❀ Request: Little!reader becomes really sick and regresses to a baby headspace and needs mommy!nat to take care of her. Little!reader is very whiny and babbles to communicate with Nat :)

❀ A/N: This was requested by a sweet anon when my blog didn't shit itself a while ago. I hadn't backed it up to my AO3 account yet so it unfortunately got deleted along with the rest of my stories that didn't get saved:( I hope that it was ok that I changed a couple things, and I hope this turned out ok! Thank you for understanding!! <3

Nats ears perked as she heard a soft sneeze come from the nursery. Nat had just gotten back from a mission, only to come home to find her baby sick and needing her mommy. She set her book down and entered your room, sighing as she sees you on your bed covered in a mountain of blankets. Sitting beside you, a pile of used tissues as well. Knowing what to do, her mommy instincts take over immediately.

"Oh my little spider, are you not feeling very good?" You shake your head with a small whimper to accompany it. With a small frown on her lips, she rubs your back as she helps you grab the bowl beside your bed. "It's ok my маленький паук (Little spider), let it all out, then we can get you in a nice warm bath, ok?"

Nodding weakly you continue to let out the remains of your small breakfast, whimpering when you finish. "Here, love drink some water." Nat puts a fresh glass of water to your lips, and you graciously take a few gulps, sighing as you lean against her.

"Oh baby, I know. Im so sorry that I wasn't here when you started feeling icky. Did Aunty Wanda take good care of you while I was gone?" With a small smile, you nod at the thought of your "aunt" coming over to help you with some soup and getting you to bed for your nap.

"Alllll-righty, let's get you in that bath, how does that sound?" All you let out are a few whines here and there, making Nat fall for you all over again. As she picks you up, you cling to her like a sloth to her mother, making her smile and hold you even tighter.

"Mama, baba? Pees?" It took her a minute to process what you had said, but she knows 'baba' when she hears it. "Do you want your bottle, little one? Aw, my baby wants some milk? Alright, let's get you nice and warm in the tub first, ok?" You nod and happily watch your mommy as she fills the tub with warm water. Nat made sure to pour your favorite [add scent here] scented bubble bath to the running water, absolutely loving your reaction to all of the bubbles floating around.

You nod in excitement at her next sentence; "I know you love the bubbles, рыбочка (little fish)."

Once the bath was filled to a good hight, she gently got you undressed and sat you in the warm water. "How does that feel, little one? Nice and warm? Not too hot?" She asks, but you don't listen as your baby brain takes over. She chuckles and ruffles your hair, smiling as your giggles fill the bathroom.

Nat watches you from the small kitchen, just in eye line of the tub as she makes your bottle. The sight of you playing with the bubbles and your toy duck made Nat melt. She took a sweet picture with the bubbles around your body and saved it to her "little spider" album on her phone. Quickly coming back to you, she smiles as your face lights up when she comes into the bathroom. "Mama! Mama! Duggy, duggy!" You hold up your duck with a bright smile and Nat gently boops your nose.

"Yes, ducky! Your very cute ducky." She says, starting to undress as well. Sitting in the bath with you has been a joy to Nat ever since you first started becoming comfortable in your little space around her. She loves how you lay on her chest and lift the bubbles along her skin. She absolutely loves being with you and so close to you.

She reaches for your warm bottle on the soft rug by the tub and gently moves your hair from your face as you lay on her chest. "Here you go baby, open up." You open your mouth willingly, happily sucking on the nipple of the bottle in Nats hands. "There you go дорогая (Sweetheart). Mama's got you." She whispers, her nails tickling your back softly as you doze off on her chest.

A small cough escaped your mouth every few minutes, but the steam from the bathroom has helped with your congestion. "You'll be just fine, my love, I'll take good care of you."

[lovebvni]

things to look forward to + ways to move forward!! <3

hello, lovelies!! i’m finally doing a pick-a-pile on this blog… after about half a year of being active

this pap will be answering 2 questions, but they have multiple parts. what’s coming in (from what i can see) and ways to get to it.

disclaimer: this pac isn’t legal advice or what you should do in your life. it is just based off your current energy. and that can change. purely for entertainment purposes.

now please, close your eyes and take a deep breath. wait until you see a swirl of colour to exhale. let your breath and spirit guide you to a pile.

piles 1 -> 2 -> 3

pile 1 — find it inside

hello, pile 1! here’s your reading :)

how close is your reward?

your reward is very close. 6 of pentacles coming out makes me have the vision on a banker grabbing their papers being put together before handing the recipient, you! maybe there’s like two more things you have to sign, or bring those documents to someone else, but at most im getting that there’s about 3 more steps left in the process? 4 at most. but seriously, you are close!

the papers can be to finally get your new business started… are you starting something like a business pile one? material wealth is coming through. the justice card comes to mind — perhaps in a legal argument with someone? i think this is the success about to come. or at least a satisfactory agreement.

what do you need to remove from your energy?

being too ambitious. you’re almost toooo focused and driven. are you cutting people off or isolating yourself from people and friends? honey you need a support group. it’s not always good to do things alone. you aren’t in a cage. your tunnel vision is too stuck on this goal you’re trying to reach. you need a breath of fresh air. just take a moment to relax and have a fun time. even students need a break from school, why do you think we have weekends? you’re wearing yourself out.

what do you need to accept?

finishing touches make everything look better. this is the final steps. just because i’m saying “oh you have abt 3 more steps” didn’t mean those are big steps. those are teeny steps. but material wealth(or a legal win) is coming either way, no matter what you change in the end. just trust the process.

a new focus & what to reject

stick to your plan! don’t back out of it last minute because you don’t like how it’s turning out. you need a BREAK! take a step back! but this doesn’t mean let everyone get into your business. keep it to yourself for now. it’s gonna work out, though!

thanks for reading, pile one! i hope this resonates, and i wish you the best!! now go have fun! stop working yourself overtime!

confirmation/additional signs: “don’t compare yourself to others”, don’t let others control you, have your own path and stick to it, “have some sort of tunnel vision”, the colour red, “girl trip!”, painting, “i need you to take a step back before i knock you on your fucking ass” — elita’s mentally not here, 555.

pile 2 — gift from the gods

hello, pile two! this is your reading!

first off, i’m doing this reading with my friend nile (nile says hi bc nile always says hi 💯) and they said they REALLY felt the need to touch on ur overall energy. so here’s what they said!

“With the number of face cards that are in this spread, and the general theme I thought about while pulling out the cards, it seems like pile 2 is the type to ask others for 2nd and 3rd opinions alot? I mainly thought about family members but it could easily be like, friends, classmates, school counselors/teachers, etc. Pile 2 maybe feels like they're conflicted because they're getting way different opinions on something (or maybe that's the normal dynamic) and they aren't sure which one is good advice and which one isn't”

don’t second guess urself 😡😡 ur intuition is always right!

how close is your reward?

this idea is brand new, isn’t it? some something you just decided to try, to dabble in. to dip your toes in, maybe as a distraction? i feel like this is something you decided to do on a whim, so maybe you’re not that far along with it. i mean you aren’t even in the pool yet… how can you start swimming? so, i would say about a 1-3 out of ten.

what do you need to remove from your energy?

wow, fear of some sort of older male figure. you may have an older sibling, nile got a brother or a cousin. they have divine masculine energy. they may or may not be a male, though. they may be someone who reaches out when they need something from you. you need to learn to start saying no to them. i also think that this could be where your double and triple checking could come in. are you someone who asks “should i do this for them?” and most of your friends say no, but you only need that one yes and you’ll take it? why would you do that to urself :( it’s so harmful to give away your energy without gaining.

nile also brought up inner voices, “inner voices that has that sort of vibe, but this is the energy of a young, mean-spirited, holier-than-thou, smart-ass that moreso likes to spout their own ideals than to actually consider what is pile 2's idea of a 'reward'” and you know what i say to this energy? SUCK ON MY DICK!

sorry. that was out of pocket. but tell them to get a life, and cut them off !!

what do you need to accept?

have u had a romantic offer? or do you think someone’s attracted to you? grab them 🤭 get ur man!! this person may also be an important friend. maybe friends w benefits? that was js a side thought. but focus on them, accept them into your life, and allow them to make your life better! i also get the feeling they could have darker hair (dirty blonde at the lightest)!! masculine energy btw!

i got the need to ask if yall r gay but 💀💀 ok girl u slay!! i’m gay too!! dw!! nblm here girly 🤞🫶‼️

a new focus & what to reject

an older, calm spirit. they could be a father or grandfather — but they could also be the person in the romantic offer trying to support you. they may advice you to focus on the here and now rather than the future or the past. stay grounded in your truth and your faith. spend some time in nature, too! you really just need a minute to take a break.

is there a person with extroverted, wild energy? they may be an energy vampire. they could be a friend of a friend, and they might spread rumors around a lot. but don’t waste too much time with them. they could make you physically sick.

that’s all i have for you, pile two! i hope your messages resonated!! have fun :)

confirmation/additional signs: “on those we call”, rapunzel’s healing song, past lives, ancestors guidance, black panther, a calming energy, (air or water sign?), the colour purple (movie + colour), issues being grounded (root chakra?), Oh No! by Marina, knowing what you want but not knowing how to get there, knowing why you make actions you don’t want to, beating yourself up, spiritually, 555.

pile 3 — black cat, do you belong?

hello pile 3!! this is ur reading :)

how close is your reward?

i also heard goal, by the way, so this may have been something you’ve been working to for a while. your card was knight of wands. homestretch, almost. i keep thinking of soccer/football. that may be something you’re into, but i’m gonna use sports references now.

this is the final quarter, not even. there’s 3 minute left in the game. you know you can win this! i feel like you’re almost too carefree in this moment though. i mean you have a carefree spirit, so that’s good! but you need more focus. overall, i would rate you the highest of any pile, a 9! at the least it’s a 9, at the most you’re literally on the last step.

what do you need to remove from your energy?

nile and i both thought it was weird/important that ace of wands came out. this is a card that obviously symbolizes new beginnings, and it’s probably the most creative card too. it shows swiftness and excitement in a challenge. you need to remove your carefreeness just for a moment to be able to grab the ace of wands from the hand of the universe. i feel like you’re being a bit lazy, so don’t! reignite your passion!

this is what nile said btw (it genuinely made me laugh 💀)

“pile 3 shouldn't just think about what they want - they should act on it! I really don't have much else to say, maybe pile 3's guides think that there's no other way to say it - it's a one way or the other type of thing, you do it or you don't - chop chop”

what do you need to accept?

5 of wands is usually about fights and rivalry, but in this context nile got sports, and i totally agree.

i mean, sports already came up in this pile for you guys already, so i feel like spirit is saying join a club or do something with other people!! stop isolating yourself! you need to do something competitive, primarily because you like fighting in a friendly way (maybe sometimes a violent way! anger issues).

if there isn’t a sport you can join, maybe because of finances or time issues, be competitive! race against yourself! do something that makes you feel good!

“if not sports, then something at the very least that gives pile 3 a sense of competition; something that makes them feel like they have to put their best foot forward to reap the best rewards! this isn't something that will wait for them if they do things half-a-step, every once in awhile kind of pace or attitude.”

in other words — DONT GO SLOW, GIRL! ACT LIKE ITS THE LAST THING U GET TO DO!! RUN!

a new focus & what to reject

focus on relationships. i want to say i get the feeling most of u guys are shifter and shifting for someone, but i could just be biased and projecting bc this like really resonates and resembles me in a lot of ways — and it’s scary!

anyways, there’s some romance in this pile. someone who has a calm spirit, maybe cold on the outside but warm on the inside. they may have been sending you signs that you haven’t been picking up much. or maybe you have been picking them up but you aren’t making an effort to reach out or you just forget easily. i totally get that, by the way, but try to put some time and focus into this romantic offer! even if it’s not in this reality, or in your mind (be delulu, and may it become trululu). nile also got this person may not want a romantic offer, but idk abt that one. getting a strong sense this is a romantic offer.

ok, sports coming through again! maybe you’ve been thinking about them a lot, but for some reason it’s in the context of something to reject. maybe this is a coach or a controlling person in a sporting way? maybe someone from your past? someone who thinks with his head, not his heart. they aren’t very emotional, and they could be cruel to you.

“maybe pile 3 is getting offers for more than one team/group? if that's the case, then I think pile 3's guides is saying to avoid the one(s) that have no-nonsense, frownie face leaders, the type of person to cut down any chances of fun and straight-up running things like a marine. whoever this is, they're way too tough on everyone else and they're allergic to fun, their authoritative stance prevents the teammates from develop a bond with each other, and this energy would probably damper pile 3's motivation.”

i’m gonna be so for real, pile 3, i had to hold off posting this pick-a-card because of yall — it’s not bad, by the way! it’s just that something that i need to say to you guys — its a personal message, i believe. i was talking to a friend, sigyn (love u girl, even if you don’t see this), and she made me think about my own journey with shifting and breaking out of a shell. i said these words: “but man, even tho i’m scared, i don’t care, because my happiness… no, im worth more than fear.”

i feel like this was what i was missing no matter what happens, no matter how scared you are of success or messing up, you are worth more than fear. it cannot hold you. and, as i said before, do it with fear. be like miles morales, jump off that roof fucking BACKWARDS. fear cannot control you, you control it. omg i’m about to cry, but you guys, fear is not all. i promise you this. if you need to talk about fear and how to get over it, send me an ask and i’ll dm you. this is not the end of this journey, nah man, this is the beginning of your life. i love you pile 3.

that’s all i got for you, pile three! wishing you the best, and i rlly hope your work pays off before the new year :) i know how hard it is to keep motivation, and keep moving after such a long time of hard work, but know it will all pay off in the end. nothing {bad} can last forever, as all things must come to an end.

confirmation/additional signs: football, hockey, sports in general, Doja Cat, fire truck (victim of sa), food, especially salads or greens, “almost there”, “i can’t give up now; i have to prove them wrong,” getting back what you lost, anger issues, self doubt, the colour blue (throat chakra?), 2020 music 💀💀 (my heart went oops by tiagz came on…! and so did savage by megan thee stallion), chaos, thriving in chaos, not from the us, barbie, sia, black and white, contrasting colours, i know better by noahfinnce — “and i won’t stop running until i hear the sirens coming…”, not stopping until you get to your goal, “i’m just ken” — ryan gosling, 69, miles morales, impulsive decisions, 555, 999, alien blues.

thank yall for reading my first pac on this blog !! it was really fun, and i hope to do it again soon <3

[infernothechaosgod]

Hey guys so the ask box's getting closed for a while probably like a week or so and so is the whole blog

explanation under

ever since that last ask telling me oswalds married to ortensia and its weird of me to use fanny i've had to deal with stuff like this sometimes popping up in my ask box

its been infersting my ask box at very random mostly bc I think its one person or few people since these asks are diffrently spelled and worded sometimes remembering im here and feeling this need to send me this sometimes, Despite me not posting that much (at least i think its not much) oswald x fanny content in the first place

I haven't been responding to these asks because i think one of the goals of theirs might be making me try to "slip up" by saying something like idk "ortensia sucks" in the fit of #internetRage and making my mutuals who like ortensia upset with me...but that obviously hasn't been working too well lol because

1 this stuff doesnt make me feel the need to respond and doesnt anger me more so sometimes saddnes me but not that much you know?

and 2 i dont think ortensia sucks or anything, shes there, i really like some versions of her i dont use her bc like i said already i dont know how to write her too well and i dont wanna force myself to add a whole character in because like...if idk how to write her how do you expect me to use her? Do you want me to just make her stand next to oswald and thats it? if thats it then I could argue thats far worse than not having her in like from writers perspective way worse

these asks have been attempting to more and more justify their rudness towards me like how above you can see they say its disrespectful to disney (thats a bonus for me mate), that me not using ortensia means im a bad writer and that fanny's been toxic to oswald in the old shorts, all these things make my head turn tbh I think there all very easy to debunk

Also fanny hasn't been used in over 90 years i think the point they were trying to make with that is im not creative/oryginal bc of not wanting to write ortensia bc "i could not think of anything to expand her" but like fanny's got way less screentime than ortensia and has never had a speaking role and I did or at least im attempring to do exactly that with her but they talk about her like i took an already existing freshed out character and used her bc its easier witch really confuses me more than upsets me in any way

Since I dont wanna start drama of any kind but also since these asks have been really getting on my nerves now i've decided to close the ask box and after making this post i'll probably log out for a while probably about a week, i'll return with tcc comic pages and hopefuly will get to open the ask box soon after, im sorry to everyone who wanted to aks me stuff ik there are still some asks in my box I haven't answeared yet that arent this stuff you'll get your answears when I comeback and clean my aks box thecause it looks atrocious right now

So yea see ya in a week yall im sorry for shutting the blog down for so long but I think focusing on my stuff and moving away from all this will do good for me

Please take care - flame ❤️

[koco-coko]

post with no real purpose

i dont really belong in the ikemen fandom anymore, but i love everyone here. I wanna repurpose my account into something else, or make koco-coko a side account, but im not sure what to do. im too scared to abandon everyone here, since everyone has been so nice, but i need a fresh start, ya know? new year new me? as of now, i just feel pretty restricted into this ikemen focused account, i guess.

it kinda feels like most of my closest friends arent into ikemen games as much either, but i still am. Kinda. I dunno. Life's weird. I like some games but now other people dont like those games but i still like the characters but i guess thems the breaks

I think I'll just be moving to a completely new and fresh blog soon, so reply or repost whatever just notify me so that i know who wants to stay in touch and such. I'll likely be following most, if not EVERYONE i know from this fandom, acquaintance or not.

yeah

[lunicho]

hey lunicho nation <33 happy new years!! i came to make an announcement!! as of january 1st i will be moving over to a brand new blog!!! i've greatly enjoyed my time here on lunicho but have flooded myself at the same time! randomly taking asks for groups im not the most into and also just having gone through so much mentally this year makes me feel so overwhelmed on this blog. with that being said i won't be writing for or taking requests for any groups other than the main 2 that the blog is for. i just really want a fresh start and want to focus on groups that really make me feel passionate!! with that being said!!

my new url is @ejudollz !! there i will be a &team and tws focused blog!! i probably will post &team more often but we shall see!!! there are a couple of other things that i need to add to my blog like my rules and masterlist and things but i'll work on them as the time goes! as far as this blog i will be disabling my ask box probably tomorrow and any asks should not be sent to my new blog if you want to contact me!

my anons from this blog, please send an ask to ejudollz with your anon name so i can figure out which emojis and things like that are taken!! im gonna restart my anon list, of course im keeping in mind the anons that i already have so if you send another ask you will keep your emoji!

[corcnaiism]

;-- alrighty so i have come to my decision. i will be moving my oc and my gf muses to another blog bc i feel like there is so much lore ive created and will be creating that will require its own blog for me to dump everything in without feeling like im clogging the dash.

i also been feeling like this blog has run dry and i need to start fresh again. i will keep it with the other muses i have just in case i get inspo to write them, but so far ive been nose deep in gf, especially with my oc that is heavily involved in that verse, so i feel like i just need another blog for me to throw all that stuff into.

i also just haven't been feeling comfortable in this blog anymore even with the things ive tried doing to make it easier for me to be around. it's like ive disconnected myself/been disconnected from the rest of the community, and i honestly just need to go somewhere else and start anew. even tho i might not get a lot of interactions for gf stuff, at least i won't feel like i'm blowing someone's dash and feeling annoying or something. sure, people would've just unfollowed/block me, but still idk i just feel uneasy speaking about the things ive been super passionate about lately. i might not get much traction either once i move blogs, but at least it'll feel like i'm throwing my ideas out there to those who genuinely want to see me yap my brains out or even just to myself without feeling awkward doing so.

i blame my low self esteem tbh. i just have zero confidence in myself when it comes to putting myself out there, and sometimes it gets to me that i don't have someone to talk to about things or feel like im being ignored/annoying. it's honestly just my own fault tbh and giving myself a hard time, and this is just something i deal with on a day to day basis whether it be online or irl.

so yeah ill just stop there before i get into trauma-dumping territory but uh yeah so ill most likely be creating a new blog and pouring all of my gf stuff on there with my oc and my other canon muses. i just feel like that's the better option bc like i said there has been so much ive written and still have to write about the worldbuilding for that universe where my oc exists within the gf realm that i feel it deserves to have its own blog. ill be turning this blog into my secondary blog and come back to it every now and then when i get muses for other fandoms. i feel like this will just be better for my own mental health too and stay away from feeling isolated.

if you read this far and you have written with any of gf muses, oc included, i will be moving our threads over to the new blog and tag you appropriately if you wish to continue. i'll post something on here whenever i've moved to the new blog so you're aware that it's me tagging you just in case you're confused as well as sending dms. i'll probably have this new blog up and running after the holidays and my trip, so expect an update or two on the upcoming new year.

and another note if you've read this far, i wanna wish you all happy holidays and please make sure you do what you can to stay safe. i love you guys and thank you so much for giving me another lovely year <3

[safety-pin-punk]

whats your opinion on the current punk discourse? i find it really stupid personally, it really just feels like the same discourse that always happens (young punks denying punk history, older punks not wanting to let their culture change, them fighting about it) but i want to hear your thoughts since im still fairly new to the culture.

OKAY. Please forgive me if words don't work right, I'm very tired at the moment. That said, I do have an opinion on this topic.

You mention that its the 'current' punk discourse, but honestly, I'd argue its been *the* punk discourse since at least the 2000s. By that point, the scene had been around for 30 years, long enough to have veteran punks and people very fresh to the punk community. Though, I will admit that I'm lucky in that I don't see much of this online both because of how picky I tend to be with the blogs I follow, but also because of the nature of my own blog. Many people find safety-pin-punk from my Punk 101 posts that are focused on history and culture, consequently, most of my audience has at least some willingness to learn and has an interest in that topic.

And while generational gaps certainly *do* cause riffs within the punk community, its certainly not something limited to punks, or even alternative communities for that matter. Just look at the stereotypical american family gathering. Nobody is happy because nobody agrees. Best said perhaps by lyrics from both The Ataris and The Living End

I point that out because my opinion on how it should be addressed within the punk community is the same as how it should be addressed in society as a whole. Younger people SHOULD be taking the time to learn their history and know how we got to where we are. Knowing where we started and the fights we've dealt with are important to being able to move even further. On the other side, older people NEED to actively work to challenge their beliefs and acknowledge that its okay for things to evolve and change over time.

The most talked about example of this phenomenon I've seen is the "Nazis aren't punk/where do you think the phrase Nazi punks fuck off comes from?" And I think anyone who is involved in online discourse over this fails to be able to see this argument from the other side. Yes Nazis used to be in punk spaces. But then they were kicked out (Nazi Punks Fuck Off). And now no one wants to let them back (Nazis aren't punk). I genuinely don't understand why people get upset over this. Not every post that talks about what punk has become needs to address its history. Not every post that addresses its history needs to bring up the current state. And people on both ends of any argument like this need to stop thinking they are superior than the other side, and instead start trying to use their brain cells and understand nuance in situations and conversations.

[daisies-daydreams]

Okay! I’ve had this on my mind for so long now because I love your writing style but I’m kinda looking for some angst? If you’re not comfortable writing for this, I completely understand.

Anyway, idea is, Hobie being the personification of Runway Baby by Bruno Mars and fem!groupie!reader learning that the hard way. Like she falls for him, hard, and he just doesn’t pick up on it? His bandmates all warn her the moment they notice the signs, but she ignores them.

As always, I love your work and you’re a wonderful human being <3

The song in question:

Runaway Baby (Hobie Brown x F!Groupie!Reader)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x F!Groupie!Reader Category: Angst/Hurt No Comfort Warnings: Unrequited Love, Heartbreak, Depictions of Weed/Liquor, Drinking, Cheater!Hobie, Depictions of Sex (auditory only), Swearing Word Count: TBA A/N: I'm not going to lie - I never heard this song until I started to work on this request (it's a banger though!). Also, thank you so much for your kind words. 🫶

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You never thought you’d be here: backstage with your icon’s lean, lanky arm slung over your shoulder. The smell of alcohol and weed lingering in the air as the bandmembers of The Mary Janes lounged around with their girl of choice.

“Oi, Bunny, you wanna sip?” Hobie suddenly drawled while holding up a nearly empty bottle of whiskey. Your eyes lit up as you nodded, your heart skipping a beat as he chuckled. You watched with enlarged pupils as Hobie took a swig from the bottle. Your expression changed as he turned towards you, his cheeks puffed out a little as he tilted his head down.

You parted your lips as you laid your hands on his bare chest, the feeling of his warm body against your touch electrifying you to the core. You closed your eyes as Hobie gently spilled the liquor into your mouth, the bitter sting washing over your tongue.

“Fuckin’ hell, Hobes,” one of his band mates grunted. You gasped as Hobie swiped his tongue along your bottom lip before he cupped your chin between his long fingers.

“Such a good girl,” he purred and wiped his thumb across your lips. Your heart raced before he slowly stood up and stretched with a grunt. “Be right back. Gotta take a piss,” the guitarist grunted.

“Thank you for that vital information,” the drummer, Pinkie, said as he rolled his eyes.

“Anytime,” Hobie said with a mocking curtsey. You giggled as the tall, rugged man waltzed out of the room. You didn’t realize you were biting your lip until the bass player cleared his throat.

“Oh, she’s got it real bad,” his groupie laughed, her eyes slightly red and speech slurred.

“What?” you blinked, your earrings jingling as you moved your head. Everyone looked at each other through the thick haze of smoke.

“C’mon, (Y/N). Don’t act all coy,” Pinkie said. You furrowed your brows as your cheeks burned.

“Ya shouldn’t go after ‘im, ya know,” the bassist, Stew, lilted from another couch nearby.

“Stew,” the pretty girl sitting in his lap sighed. Your heart sank a little.

“Why shouldn’t I go after him?” you asked as your palms suddenly grew damp. A heavy silence filled the room before Pinkie sighed.

“He moves on to the next girl in the blink of an eye,” he said while snapping his fingers. Your heart dropped.

“Trust me, sweetheart. He’ll get tired of ya in the next few days and drop ya off at God knows where,” Stew said before taking a drag on his joint. Your eyes burned as you clenched your fists.

“B-But I thought-“

“Yeah, every girl does,” Stew interrupted.

"Stew!" his groupie chastised him with a harsh glare.

"What? The girl deserves to know the truth. In fact..." his voice trailed off as his words reverberated inside your head.

Every girl does.

You found yourself on your feet, your mind in a hazy blur as your throat grew dry. All eyes were on you as you stared onward with wide eyes.

"I need to get some fresh air," you mumbled before clumsily making your way out the door. The fluorescent lights dimly lit the hallway as your heartrate spiked, your lungs burning as you took quick, shallow breaths. You steadied yourself against the dull brick wall before you heard a sudden thump. You perked your head up as the noise drew you out of your fugue. You gasped when you heard another thump, followed by a harsh slap and a high-pitched moan.

Your eyes widened as you gazed a the bathroom door nearby, the sounds of wet, rhythmic slapping making your stomach churn. Your mind screamed at you to not take a step closer, knowing exactly what was happening on the other side of that thin door...and yet you found yourself slowly inching forward. Your throat tightened when you heard Hobie speak into the unknown woman's ear.

"Didn't know my favorite girl liked it this rough," he rumbled before another slap rang out from the small room. Tear instantly fell down your cheeks as you held your hands over your mouth. You barely heard the woman moan in reply as you ran down the hall. You shook your head as you screamed at yourself.

"You should've known," a nasty voice inside your head rasped as you mindlessly rushed through the labyrinth of winding hallways. The spaces around you seemed to grow tighter as you eventually tripped over your feet. Your heart stopped as you caught yourself, your palms and kneecaps burning before you could faceplant into the pavement.

You choked out a loud, heavy sob as your fingernails scraped against the grimy floor. You couldn't stop the tears falling down your burning cheeks as you trembled incessantly.

You really held onto each and every word he said - every sentence holding a special place in your heart. All those times you stayed up late while he strummed on his guitar, the countless moments where love and passion seemed to seep between your two bodies...it became empty all too quickly.

You opened your eyes when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You sniffed as you slowly shifted, hissing as your scraped knees rubbed against the concrete floor. You glanced down to see your best friend calling you...someone you haven't spoken with since you hopped on that tour bus so many weeks ago. You tried to blink away several more hot tears as your phone shook in your hand. You sniffled again as you wiped at your nose before answering.

"H-Hello?" you asked. You heard your best friend pause.

"Oh my God," they breathed. Your heart clenched at their breathless words. You closed your eyes as you swallowed thickly. "(Y/N), where the hell have you been?!" your friend yelled, their voice cracking as if they were trying to hold back tears. You sniffed as you shifted in place.

"In Bristol," you replied. You heard them shuffle on the other end.

"Christ, we all thought you were dead!" they said. You flinched as you squeezed your phone.

"I-I know. I'm sorry," you apologized. You slowly blinked and tried to choke back a sob. "I...I'm sorry for never answering your texts or calls," you swallowed thickly. They sighed again before a long pause lingered between the two of you.

"It's...It's okay. I'm just glad to hear your voice again," they said. A small smile crept onto your face before another wave of anguish rolled through your chest. You gritted your teeth as you placed your other hand over your chest. "But seriously...where have you been?" they asked. You hesitantly glanced back, the bathroom door far out of sight as the tear in your heart ripped a little further. You took a deep breath as you wrapped an arm around yourself and slowly rose to your wobbling feet.

"I'll tell you all about it if you come pick me up," you stated as you tried to steady your voice. Your best friend paused again.

"When do you need me to come get you?" they asked. You fought the temptation to look back again as your throat tightened and eyes burned. You gulped and parted your lips.

"As soon as fucking possible," you replied.

----

Thank you for reading ❤️

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[jinchuls-moved]

hi, important lil note

pseud change, jinx -> echo

you don’t have to read but there’s a not so thought out ramble of all the thoughts in my head rn under the cut. i feel like ive been tricking people and i want to explain myself

okay so, i moved blogs when i was in a very negative space. i only stayed away for about a month, i missed tumblr and i missed writing even if it took me a hot minute to feel good enough to even be semi active on here.

tumblr can fucking suck. i left because there was drama with a few people that left me a mess honestly, those people have since been blocked and i started to feel a little bit better. i also noticed a number of people breaking mutual with me, which i completely understand curate your space as you need i’ve done it a few times myself, but the amount of people that did in a short time (as far as i noticed) gave me a terrible feeling and i needed to leave. i felt unwelcome and like i had done something wrong to people i had only interacted with a few times. this was on top of a lot of stuff i had going on irl, i felt so fucking alone in every aspect on my life regardless of my friends that made it so obvious they were there for me. i hated how i was at the time, and i appreciate every single person that stuck by me.

so i made this blog for a fresh start. i thought a new pseud and a new blog would make me feel better. and it did, for a while. my friends knew and they listened to my request to change tags, not refer to me as any previous nicknames and essentially not make it too obvious it was me. although i don’t think it was entirely impossible to tell. but now i miss all those things, i miss being stupid with my friends, i miss getting to call my best friend my wife on dash, i miss getting to miss astrology aims and mother nesi nesi, i miss the mutuals i used to have that i didn’t tell about the move because i was scared they were going to think i was stupid. i miss the url i kept going back to bc i loved it (possibly the most silly reason but still ukaishin holds a special place in my heart)

and it just doesn’t feel right. everyone has been so nice to me so far and it feels wrong knowing that wasn’t how echo ended, it makes me wonder what was wrong with me then that wasn’t now? but reality is, it’s nothing. shit happens, i needed time to get over a lot of things and it took time. even quite recently i had a terrible evening because of an old mutual. as in i had a mental breakdown because they added one stupid word to an ask that made me feel pathetic for sitting there the night before crying about how much i was missing them to aims.

getting called jinx in dms throws me off, i appreciate those that knew me first as echo using the new pseud, but it never took. it was never a name i was happy with (except for the first couple weeks on this blog) and im sorry for any confusion and having to switch pseuds again. i just don’t want to move blogs, i don’t want to have a whole thing i just want tumblr to be the happy place it was for me for almost 2 years. it got me through uni, being on here with the friends i’d made, i spend my final year of school in a constant mental breakdown, crying on the phone to my mum almost everyday and it was kaze that kept me going, motivating me to get my degree. it was kaze that flew to england to meet me and attend my graduation. it was aims that was the first person to reach out to me and give me the type of friendship i needed. it was everyone in our silly delululand server that made me laugh and reminded me that no matter how shit people were there were good ones. and it’s the good that’s made me feel better. and the good that makes me want to try one more time to maintain that happy place i had 2 years ago

that got too sappy but i refuse to edit <3

[darby-rowe]

im gonna be so honest im thinking of moving blogs 🥴 i hate how cluttered and disorganized this blog is and i just think that if i had a fresh start i’d feel more motivated to write. dont worry, this blog WILL STAY UP. but idk. i just need a clean slate.