#in fact i want to argue that like. that's a really good type of hero. doing good things because you want to
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akechigoroactual · 10 months ago
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throwing things, killing, etc.
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swtheartz · 3 months ago
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“ LIKE STRAWBERRIES. ” — M. Grayson
Part two
Info : Reader is a healer, canon typical violence, slow burn, one sided beef to lovers type beat W / C : 1.6k.
A / N : silas actually uploading an entire fic??? this is unheard of!! uncharted territory!!!!! jk though. i was burnt out for NO reason and suddenly got a surge of spite against my depression and wrote this. lol. it WILL in fact be a series, this is only part one i fear
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The first time Mark meets you is after the fight with his dad.
Cecil had told him he’d be fixed right up—in the physical aspect, at the very least. “The kid hates sob stories. Try not to say too much.”
So, he took the old man’s advice, and hadn’t said much to you while you were healing him. He’d argue that the silence was awkward. Foreign and strange, and he didn’t know how to not sit there and manage to not look out of place. The room you primarily worked in wasn’t like a hospital room, no.
It didn’t have those weird posters of kittens with something that said ‘believe in yourself,’ or something dumb like that, it wasn’t just pristine white walls with blinding fluorescent lights that gave patients headaches, and it didn’t smell like pure bleach and chemicals. No. It smelled of something floral and sweet, almost like fruit; but not quite there. The walls were more a peach color than anything, easier on the eyes than the standard American hospital. Not to mention that the walls were decorated.
All in all, it was strange. Like someone as bruised and bloody as Mark didn’t belong in there. Somewhere sweet and almost gentle, and the wounds that had made him feel as though they’d stay forever—stay etched into his skin, down to the bone, alongside the blood that wasn’t just solely his—mended themselves back together. The bruises and aches faded away.
The smell of blood lingered.
“Well,” the sound of your voice nearly startled Mark off the bed you’d had him laid across. “Take a shower and do a rain check with Stedman, and you’re all good to go, Invincible.”
“. . . What? Just- that’s it? That’s all?”
You’d stared blankly at him, arms crossed in the chair you were seated in. Though you were a healer, you did look as though you belonged amongst the official medical staff that’d be seen literally anywhere else. The slightest tilt of your head had him shifting uncomfortably.
“Did you want there to be more?” The question comes across as somewhat annoyed. Mark could see why you’d probably be agitated—but it was a genuine question!
“It’s just, uh,” he starts, swallowing nervously. “I expected it to take longer or something. Like an actual healing process, precautions I’d have to take and stuff.”
The hum of acknowledgment you let out as you nod your head makes him look at you again, and you speak. “Not when I’m the one healing you. My power is called that for a reason, and it’s so heroes like you can get back out on the playing field. To skip the healing process. If I hadn’t been here, it would’ve taken you months.”
Right. A healer. Mark himself had never really thought someone like you could exist. He’s seen powers like that only in his comics, and there weren’t any other supers capable of doing whatever you just did. The way you move is skilled and practiced, years of experience and heroes in and out of your ward showing through it.
“Huh. Okay, wow. Thanks?”
“Go home, Invincible.”
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“Invincible.”
Mark grimaces. “I am begging you—literally just call me by my government name.”
He doesn’t miss the way your nose scrunches ever so slightly as your eyes never leave the clipboard in your hands, clearly focused; but not too focused. “You and I are not on friendly terms. We’re associates by definition.”
“Okay, okay,” he puts his hands up slightly in mock surrender, contemplating his response. Over the past few months, he’s noticed that you don’t quite like him. At all. You’re annoyed by how thick his file has grown in such a short amount of time, annoyed by all the times you’ve documented the amount of injuries he’s had, how much energy it takes you, and whether or not you want to quit working for the GDA after making his acquaintance all those months ago.
“. . . But hear me out.” Mark adds on, noticing the way your hands clutch even more at the wood and paper. “We’re associates when we’re on duty. By definition.”
“And I am on duty,” you retort, setting your papers down and pressing a hand to the bridge of your nose. “Constantly. The same way I’m on duty while watching you get your ass beat on live television, all because you seem to love pulling your punches. Like a fucking idiot.”
He winces at that, unable to deny the blatant distaste in your tone as you remind him of all the times Cecil has sent him your way, all the times you’ve scolded him and downright berated him because you watched as he actively held back.
“Your strength went up over one hundred percent, and you don’t even use it properly. Every fight you have, your file gets ridiculously thicker, Markus.” The way you say his name—
“Don’t say it like it’s a slur.” Mark pleads, a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks, “and it’s Mark. Just. . . Just Mark.”
“Get. Out.”
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“Markus.”
“Mark.”
“Why are you here?” You sigh out the question with exhaustion, annoyance, and a dire need to rip your own hair out as Mark sits there on one of the patient beds, uninjured this time—shockingly. He’s sitting there like a lost puppy, just. . . Much larger, more awkward, and disgustingly pathetic.
He hesitates for a moment, choosing his response carefully. “I’m benched for a while. At least until Cecil figures out what to do with me.”
The sound you make is unsurprised. “Good. Sick of seeing you bleeding whenever you come here.”
“I know.”
“So stop doing it.”
Mark’s lips purse into a thin line. You’re so mean, and it’s not like he can’t see why. But you haven’t asked him to exactly stop talking to you (yes you have), and it’s not like you genuinely hate his guts. . . At least, in his eyes, you don’t. The Teen Team would beg to differ after seeing the way you speak to him.
“I’m just wondering,” he starts, unwilling to leave. “Are there like, any other heroes you’re sick of seeing? Besides me?”
You pause at that, and turn your head towards him. As always, your eyes are narrowed and tired, a little scrunch in your brow and a slight frown on your lips as you look at him. He’d really give anything just to see you smile—just once. He wonders if you have dimples. What your laugh sounds like, what you look like when you’re peaceful and calm for just a moment.
“Why?”
“Morbid curiosity,” Mark states simply. And to be fair, it is just that. Surely you don’t just dislike him and solely him, there has to be another hero you hate. Maybe even multiple. Mark likes hearing your voice, even if you’re just talking about the things you dislike.
He wonders what you do like. What you find solitude in.
“Hm.” For a moment, you exhale, and push away from your desk to think about your answer. “. . . Immortal,” you hum, thinking about it. “Can’t seem to keep his head on. Or stop charging into fights he can’t handle.”
“Like me?”
“No,” you shake your head and go back to focusing on your work. “You can handle your fights. It just seems to be a deliberate choice of yours not to handle them.”
“Ouch.”
“I hate it when Rex comes in here.” You ignore his little comment and continue, actually giving some thought to your responses. Usually, your conversations with Mark consisted of you insulting him endlessly before telling him to go home and sleep it off. Rinse and repeat.
“He can talk someone’s ear off. It’s sickening, really,” the last part is a mutter as you sort through a barrage of papers, clearly going back to focusing on what you were doing before he’d come and interrupted your rather quiet day. He’s been dropping by more often, and over time, you’ve began to hold actual conversations with him that didn’t involve you telling him how you should let him heal on his own, and him begging you to not leave him stranded in such a state—
“What’s your favorite kind of food?”
You pause for a second, pretending to not have heard, before ultimately you set your papers down again and turn your swivel chair to face Mark. “What?”
“Your favorite kind of food,” he repeats, staring right back at you. “Like, do you like spicy, or?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.” You grumble, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. Just for a moment, you glance back up at him, watching him pout ever so slightly at your answer.
“I’m serious. It’s just a genuine question, y’know?” The two of you enter a staring contest of sorts when you glare at him, looking genuinely offended at the fact he was asking about something so minuscule and stupid. As though the two of you were friendly. . . .
“Fruit.”
Mark blinks at your response, opening his mouth to say something before closing it again, gears turning in his head. “Okay. . . So, sweet stuff?”
“Sweet stuff,” you mutter, turning back around. “Not artificial sugar. Natural. It’s better for my energy, helps me heal better.”
He nods as though that makes sense. You seemed the type to prefer natural things over the overproduced, sickeningly and overly sweet candies that left a bitter aftertaste. It makes sense in Mark’s mind—as though he should’ve known, should’ve been able to tell. The room you work in smells soft and sweet, just like honey and strawberries.
You smell like strawberries. Ripe, sweet. Tinted a dark red and soft when bitten into.
“Okay.” Mark whispers, more to himself than anything. A confirmation. A new alignment in the stars, the very universe itself as a whole. “Yeah, that seems like you.”
“Don’t stereotype me, Invinci-Boy.”
“Oh my god.”
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TAGLIST : @lxluvsmoney @broicouldjustbuyyousomekombucha @koilikesthefishy @tokoyamisstuff @pookiei-bookie
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galaxywannabe · 1 month ago
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The Miscommunication Tropeℱ
Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
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Summary: After getting into the first real argument of your relationship, some misspoken words from Bucky leave you thinking that he's done. By the time he realizes just how badly he screwed up, will it be too late to correct his mistake?
Warnings: Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Miscommunication; Crying; Arguing between romantic partners; Bucky is mean but he makes up for it; Happy ending; Reader identifies as a woman and uses she/her pronouns, but other than having hair that can be swept behind an ear I don't think there are any other physical descriptors; Please let me know if I missed anything!
Word Count: Almost 9.3k.....I'm sorry lol
A/N: Ummm....so. I'm fairly certain I promised this fic, like...3 months ago? In fact, I actually just went back to look and I first teased this fic on Febuary 19th, so um...lol? I made it! Listen, idk if it's even any good anymore but if I look at it for another second I'll scream, so please take it off my hands. Any and all comments or reblogs would be SO appreciated because this has truly been a labor of love, I didn't know if I had it in me. Also!! I have not forgotten @buckyinmyuniverse - you asked to be tagged in this wayyyy back when I first posted about it and I have FANTASTIC news for you babe: The wait is finally over!! I know you've no doubt been refreshing your feed for months looking for it (/j) but this whole time I was cooking this thing I remembered you asking for a tag. So, this one goes out to you. Hope you all enjoy! <3
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You and Bucky hadn’t ever been in a fight before, not really. You bicker, sure, usually over something lighthearted, usually resulting in an eyeroll and a “whatever you say, honey,” from Buck, but nothing serious, nothing that can’t be worked out through a civilized conversation. That was, until today.
You weren’t even trying to start an argument, you were just expressing your concern. He works too much, he takes more missions than anyone else, and it’s running him ragged, anybody can see that.
Obviously, you miss him when he’s away, but that’s not even the point - the point is that he’s taking on too much because he thinks he owes the world something, and that’s not sustainable, it’s not good for him. All you said was that maybe he’d ought to ask Fury to take him off the rotation for a while, or even just cut down on his assignment load, to give him some room to breathe. And Bucky got
defensive.
Obviously, you knew that was a possibility. Typical male pride of course prohibits silly ideas like “self care” and “burnout,” but on top of that is Bucky’s specific brand of guilt, the kind that makes him work himself into the ground no matter how badly his brain and body beg him to stop.
The defensiveness you were prepared for, but you were only coming from a place of love, your concern that of a devoted girlfriend, and surely he’d understand that, wouldn’t he? Except he hadn’t. He’d immediately dismissed your suggestion, waving a hand and continuing to type up his latest mission report with a laser-like focus. 
“I don’t need a break, I’m fine,” he’d muttered, eyes trained on the bluish light of his laptop screen.
Again, you weren’t trying to argue. You certainly weren’t going to  force him to take a break, you just wanted him to at least consider it, to remind him that it would be okay for him to rest a little, if he wanted to. The world would go on without his help for a few weeks, and there were other heroes available besides him. 
“Honey, I know you might not need one, but it’s okay if you just want one. No one would judge you if-”
And then he did something he’d never done before: he snapped at you. He didn’t even look up from his screen, his fingers still a steady staccato on the keyboard as he barked out harshly.
“I said I don’t need a fucking break. I’m just doing my goddamn job, and I don’t need you breathing down my neck watching my every move the whole time I do it. I can take care of myself.”
You winced. Obviously, that stung, and if he’d bothered to look up from his computer screen, he might have seen that on your face. But you could tell he wasn’t as unbothered by this conversation as he was acting.
Despite his brusque attitude, your words were striking a chord with him, hitting a little too close to home. His shoulders were stiff as a board, bunched up around his ears in a telltale sign of defensiveness, and you understood, really you did.
For Bucky, doing this job is the one way he can even attempt to atone for all the bad shit he’s done. Of course he felt uncomfortable with the idea of a break, he thinks he has to do these missions as some sort of self-imposed penance for the things he’d been made to do as the Winter Soldier. 
So you didn’t judge him too harshly for lashing out. You understood the reason he worked so hard, and you knew what motivated him to continue going out there even when he was exhausted. You just wanted him to see that taking a break for his own mental health wasn’t a bad thing, that even if he was making amends he still needed to find time to take care of himself, too.
You took a deep breath and spoke in a calm voice, hoping to express your concern in a nonthreatening manner even as he still refused to look at you. 
“Angel. I’m not trying to breathe down your neck or tell you how to do your job. I know it’s important to you, and I love how hard you work! It’s just that, super-soldier or not, if you want to continue to do this job, you’re gonna need to stop and rest at some point, honey. That’s all I’m trying to say. I’m worried about you, love.”
Finally, he looked up at you, and your heart fluttered just seeing those baby blues you love so much. Until you clocked the scowl on his pretty face, and the hope in your gut curdled to dread. He was angry, you knew what that looked like, but in the six months of your relationship so far you’d never once seen that anger directed at you before.
It wasn’t frightening in a physical sense, not like you were scared for your well-being, of course not. But it deeply unsettled you, seeing the man you love looking at you like that. It made you want to apologize, though you weren’t quite sure what for. Before you could do anything at all, he spoke, his voice a cold, steel edge.
“You don’t know anything about what I can handle. I was doing just fine before you came around, and I don’t need you fussing over me at every turn just because I don’t sit around here all day scrolling on my phone or whatever it is you think I should be doing. I don’t need or want your hovering, so just stop, okay?”
There was silence. His shoulders heaved in the wake of his outburst, and you felt almost dazed, like this was some kind of mirage you could will away if you blinked hard enough. He’d never spoken to you like that.
Obviously, you’d hit a nerve, and while logically you understood that, it didn’t lessen the pain in your chest. You were just worried about him, why was he fighting like you were trying to strap him down and force him to quit?
While you tried to regain your bearings, breathing deeply and forcing back the stinging you felt building in your eyes, he slammed his laptop shut, standing and stalking towards your bedroom door. He’d come over to your place to work on his mission reports at your insistence because you’d wanted to keep him company, and now it appeared he was leaving.
“W-where are you going, what are you doing?” you’d squeaked, alarmed, following after him as he made his way to the foyer of your apartment and shoved his feet into his boots.
“I can’t fucking do this, I'm done,” he’d muttered in a gruff, hard voice, lacing his boots efficiently and standing back to his full height as he reached for the doorknob.
You shook your head, panicked, reaching for his arm and trying futilely to drag him back into your apartment. “Baby, please. I’m sorry, don’t go.”
But he just shook off your hold and stalked out the door, leaving you there as your eyes blurred with tears. After standing there in your foyer for several minutes, waiting for him to turn around and come back, you’d simply fallen to your knees and curled up right there on the polished wooden floor, bawling your eyes out.
That’s where you still are a couple hours later when your phone starts to vibrate incessantly in your pocket. You pull it out with trembling fingers and swipe to answer a call from Natasha.
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“H-hello?” you croak into the receiver.
The second Nat hears you pick up the call she’s talking, looking distractedly through her closet as she holds the phone to her ear with her shoulder.
“Hey honey, listen, me and the girls were thinking about running to Target, and we wanted to- wait, what’s wrong?” Natasha’s cheerful voice quickly drops into something soft and concerned as she picks up on the sniffles coming through her tinny cell phone speakers.
For a few seconds all she can hear is you sobbing quietly, the way you struggle to slow your hysterical breathing so you can put together a sentence. “H-he left, Nat. He broke up with me,” you whimper, voice barely audible. 
This stops Natasha in her tracks, her brow furrowed in deep confusion as she freezes with one hand reaching for her favorite sweater. What the fuck? Why in the hell would Barnes break up with you? Especially when she knows for a fact that on the last mission she had with him, he stopped into a jewelry shop in Germany ‘just to look’ at engagement rings? This doesn’t make any goddamn sense.
“Honey,” Nat speaks into the phone again, her voice soft and soothing even through the crackly audio coming from your cell phone. “What happened, what did he say?”
You sniffle again, and clear your throat so she can hear your scratchy voice a bit better. “We
there was a fight, a-and I didn’t mean to, Nat, I swear, I was just worried, but
he said he can’t do this anymore, that h-he's done, and then he left. He didn’t take any of his things with him, but maybe he’s gonna come back for them, I don’t know
I don’t know what I’m gonna do, Nat
” As your sentence tapers off, your voice fades out, and a few renewed sobs float over the phone call into Nat’s ear, the sounds soaked in agony.
Oh, okay. Nat thinks she can see what really happened here just from your description, but that doesn’t make the sounds of your misery in her ear any less painful to hear. Likely, when Bucky had said he couldn’t do “this” anymore, that he was done, he’d meant the argument, the conversation, not your relationship.
But Barnes is your first real boyfriend, and you’ve never had a fight with him before. You were probably so confused and upset in the moment that you weren’t thinking about the context of his statement.
All you knew was that Bucky got upset with you for the very first time, and then he left. To you, that must certainly look like a breakup, and when Nat thinks about it from your perspective, she understands how you’d come to that conclusion.
She’d love to explain to you how you may have misunderstood, but as she listens to your hoarse crying over speakerphone, she knows you’re not in the frame of mind to process rational thought right now. Instead, she decides to focus on soothing you for the moment.
“I’m sorry, honey, I don’t know why he’d ever do anything like that to you. I’m gonna get to the bottom of it, alright? In the meantime, I just need you to do something for me,” she coos, her voice comforting and warm.
You don’t answer, just sniffling occasionally as you sit there in silence. Natasha, interpreting your lack of response as an affirmation, continues on.
“Where are you right now?”
There’s more silence for a few seconds, the sound of you pulling deep breaths into your lungs as you regain awareness of your surroundings. Then:
“Uh. The floor. In my apartment,” you mumble, confused, like you’ve just now realized that fact.
Natasha feels an additional lash of anger at Barnes flood her system when you tell her that, but she works to keep her voice calm even has her knuckles go white around her device.
“Okay, well, I need you to get up off the floor and go to your bedroom, okay? I want you to get dressed in your comfiest pajamas and crawl into bed for me, and wait there while I handle this. Can you do that? Just close your eyes and try to rest while I figure everything out?”
More sniffles, a hoarse cough, and then, after a beat of silence, your voice crackles over the line.
“Yeah
.okay. I can do that, Nat,” you croak, the sound of shuffling floating over the line as you stagger to your feet after who knows how long on the floor.
She smiles, relieved to hear your voice coming through a bit more calmly, even as her mind races with the next items on her to-do list. “Okay sweetheart, you do that, then. I love you, I’ll call back soon, okay? Go get some rest.”
After hanging up with you, confident that at least you’re not curled up on your apartment floor anymore, she pockets her cell and immediately stalks down the hall towards the elevator, Target trip long forgotten.
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Bucky knows he fucked up. As someone who fucks up just about everything, he’s intimately familiar with the process, and he can say, with 100% certainty, that in this instance he absolutely fucked up. He never should have snapped at you - his sweetheart, his girl. You were just worried about him, and of course you were.
Bucky knows damn well he works too hard, especially lately, and he’s been on the verge of physical and mental collapse pretty much every damn day for the past month, running himself into the ground. He’d even been thinking to himself before your argument that he should slow down, take a break before he gets himself killed. So why did he get so defensive when you’d suggested it?
He doesn’t goddamn know. Because he’s messed up. Because it’s one thing when he decides to take some time off, but another when someone else has the idea, like they think he needs it.
He can’t help it; for decades of his life, the slightest sign of weakness meant pain, meant the frigid blast of a firehouse to wake him up or the wandering scalpel of a Hydra doctor looking to find a defect. Not that that makes his outburst okay, by any means, but it’s an explanation, and hey, he’s working on it, really he is. 
Still, he knew the second he walked out of your apartment that he’d fucked up, and so he’s spent the past two hours at his own place a few floors up, licking his wounds and gathering the courage to go apologize.
Because
yes, okay, he’s embarrassed by the way he acted. He’s ashamed of his own behavior, and he’d needed a minute to feel sorry for himself before he inevitably goes back down to your apartment and grovels for your forgiveness. 
He figures you’re pissed beyond belief, and if giving you some time to cool off also gives him a little while to stall the complete destruction of his ego, well, then, he’ll take it.
He finished up his mission report, he took a shower, and now he’s preparing his apology speech, debating the merit of walking down the street to a bodega for some flowers, when his doorbell rings. Shit, maybe he’s already out of time and you decided to come to him. 
When he opens his door, looking thoroughly contrite, it’s not your expected figure that stands in his entryway, but Natasha’s. And even given all his super-soldier reflexes and military training, he still staggers back a step in shock when she slaps him right across the face. 
“Whoa, what the fuck, Nat?” he barks, rubbing at the heat blooming under the skin of this cheek.
Standing there in front of him with her arms crossed, she looks anything but remorseful, her fists clenched as if she has to deny herself the urge to do it again.
“Why the fuck did you break up with her, Barnes? Are you insane?! The one good thing in your life, and you threw it all away, why, because you got a little pissed off? Out of all the stupid, careless decisions you’ve made in your fucked-up life, I really didn’t think you had it in you to top all that, but Jesus
”
As she continues to rant at him, her face pinched with rage, Bucky struggles to make sense of the words she’s already spoken. Broken up with you? Why in God’s name would he ever do that?
What an absolutely absurd thing to accuse him of, given that everybody in this building knows how insanely in love with you he is, especially your own best friend. Why is she here playing some kind of prank on him when he’s supposed to be rehearsing his apology?
“I did no such thing,” he answers bluntly, interrupting her impassioned speech, his expression confused and a little irritated at the accusation.
Nat barely even blinks at this denial. “Oh really? Then why did I just talk to her on the phone, bawling her eyes out on the floor of her apartment, telling me that you did?”
Of course, Nat’s pretty sure that Barnes hadn’t really meant to break up with you by leaving during your argument, but she’s pissed at him either way for not being cognizant enough of your feelings to foresee your interpretation of his behavior.
To Bucky, Natasha’s words might as well have been a bucket of ice water poured over his head, the way they immediately freeze his joints with dread. He feels his stomach churn as if he might be sick, the horrifying mental image of you curled up on your wooden floors driving a stake between his ribs. When he’d left, you’d been standing. Sure, you’d looked upset, but surely not that upset
right? 
He tries to think back to your emotional state when he’d stormed out a couple of hours ago, but truthfully he hadn’t turned back to see your face as he’d walked out your door. Had you been crying? He didn’t think so, but now he isn’t so sure, especially given the look of anger on Nat’s face. Why would you tell her that he’d broken up with you? As a joke, some kind of payback for his outburst?
“I
.” he pauses, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips. “You talked to her? What did she say?”
Natasha almost feels sympathy for Bucky in this moment, standing before her looking so confused and slightly horrified. But then she thinks about her best friend sobbing on the floor because he’s an idiot, and that emotion vanishes, replaced with her plentiful anger.
“Well, it was kind of hard to hear her, what with all the sobbing and such. But when I finally was able to get her to speak, she said that there was a fight, and that you broke up with her and then left her there. She said you hadn’t taken any of your stuff with you when you left, and she wasn’t sure when you’d be back for it, but that she didn’t know what she was going to do,” Nat recalls in a hard voice, her gaze sharp and accusatory. “After that she started crying again, so I didn’t ask her any more questions.”
Another bruising blow to the tatters of Bucky Barnes’s heart. What did you mean, he hadn’t taken his stuff? Why would he take his things when he’d left them there on purpose so he had them to use when he was at your place?
Why would he take his belongings out of your apartment just because you got into an argument? This doesn’t make any sense, and the longer Natasha talks, the worse his growing sense of unease becomes. 
Why were you crying? Sure, he expected anger, he’d been a huge swinging dick and he deserves some harsh words. But why is Nat saying that you were curled up on your floor sobbing? Why wouldn’t you be on the couch, or in your bed, or even down in the gym punching out your frustrations? 
And why were you on the phone with your best friend moments ago talking like you didn’t expect him to come back? Surely you know he’ll be back, he practically lives in your apartment - his wallet and keys are still sitting in the dish by your front door, his favorite jacket hung on the coat rack. He looks at your closest friend desperately, his face drawn in stark lines of horror and regret.
“Natasha, please, I don’t know why she said all that stuff to you, I didn’t break up with her, I would never break up with her. We had an argument. She was only worried about me, but I got defensive like an asshole and said some shit I didn’t mean, so
I just wanted to get out of there, get some space before I lashed out some more, that’s all. I just needed a minute to cool off, I was always fully planning to go back, to explain myself and apologize. I don’t know why she
” he trails off, looking lost.
Nat sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her best friend is in hysterics, and it’s all because men are the dumbest creatures on this planet.
“What do you think that looked like to her, Barnes? You guys get in your very first fight, and after saying some mean shit to her you stomp out of there and go ‘I can’t do this, I'm done’. What do you think those words might have sounded like to her ears? You’re her first serious boyfriend, jackass! She’s never been in this situation before! She doesn’t know that it’s relatively normal for couples to argue, even if you definitely shouldn’t have snapped at her. She just knows you’ve never fought before, and the first time you do, you walk out the door. She thinks you’re gone for good, James.”
You could hear a pin drop in Bucky’s apartment right now, the sounds of bustling Manhattan outside his windows muffled by the blood roaring in his ears. He wants to be upset with you, to question how you could ever doubt his love enough to think he’d really just walk out after one disagreement. But in truth, given his actions and your lack of relationship experience, he doesn’t see how you could’ve come to any other conclusion. 
Bucky thought he’d been regretful before Nat got here, but after hearing his behavior described in this new light, he’s got a whole list of emotions to add to the pile. Self-loathing, remorse, fear. You’re in your apartment right now, believing yourself to be single. All that time you two spent together, every memory and intimate moment, you think it’s over, just like that, in the blink of an eye. 
Obviously, he needs to explain himself immediately, to tell you that he hadn’t meant to end your relationship in the slightest and that this is all just a giant misunderstanding.
But what if you don’t care? What if, after the way he acted towards you today, you’d rather accept his words as you’d thought he meant them and stay broken up, even knowing that wasn’t his intent? He’s shaking, he realizes distantly, noticing the way Natasha looks at him with concern in her eyes now.
He hadn’t ever really let himself consider that you’d turn him down before, when he was rehearsing his apology speech. You’re in a committed relationship of six months, you’re in love. Surely, even if he was a bit of an asshole, one transgression can be forgiven as long as he apologizes sincerely.
But that was back when he thought his only sin was his harsh words, back when he thought you were angry with him for his outburst.
Now that he knows what you’ve really been feeling, that you’ve apparently spent the past two hours sobbing on your wooden apartment floors waiting for him to come back and take his belongings, he’s not so confident that he can grovel hard enough to make up for this.
He hadn’t meant to hurt you, god damn it, that’s the whole reason he left in the first place, to spare you from his undeserved anger. Now he might be about to lose you because of his own childish temper tantrum, and the terror of that thought feels icy in his veins as it travels straight to his heart, freezing it in place. 
His body is moving towards his apartment door before he even commands his muscles to do so, single-minded on the only thing that matters anymore: fixing what he’s done. His hand is already turning the doorknob by the time a slightly startled Nat is able to catch up with him, her hand on his shoulder stalling him for only the tiniest moment before he’s barrelling ahead again.
“Don’t fuck this up. You love her, now go make it right,” she commands sternly, and Bucky just grunts his acknowledgment before bursting through his door out into the empty hallway, towards the elevator.
He doesn’t stop to voice his fears to Natasha, that it might be too late to make anything right, that he may have fucked it up beyond repair already. He just keeps moving, hoping beyond hope that he still has a chance.
----------------------------------------------------------
When he makes it to your apartment a few floors down from his own, it’s eerily silent as he pushes the door open. He’s never needed a key, FRIDAY has explicit orders to grant him entry, but for the first time ever it feels wrong entering your space unannounced, like maybe he should knock and wait for permission in light of what’s happened. He ignores the impulse. 
You’re not crouched on the floor of your entryway like Nat said you’d been, so he supposes that’s a good sign, but it occurs to him then that he’s not even entirely sure you’re home. Bucky pauses to ask FRIDAY where you are, and is relieved to hear that you’re only in your bedroom.
He almost thinks he picks up a hint of annoyance in the AI’s voice when she responds to his inquiry, though, as if even the damn computer program is pissed at him for the way he treated you. It must be his imagination.
“Angel?” he calls out softly, making his way slowly through the apartment to your bedroom, noting the oppressive stillness of the place as he goes deeper. “Honeybun? Sweet pea?” he uses his softest, most gentle voice, disturbed to find your usually lively dwelling so silent. 
The TV in the living room - usually playing some youtube video or episode of your favorite show - is powered off, and the lights are all off too, as if the sun had set and you simply hadn’t bothered to flick any of them on to combat the encroaching darkness. The place he’s wandering now is like a ghost of your apartment, no scented candles lit, no steaming mug of tea waiting for you at your usual spot at the coffee table. 
It’s unnerving, to have a place usually so full of life be so startlingly empty all of a sudden. His slow steps and his soft voice calling out for you are the only sounds in the entire space, until he finally reaches your bedroom door and pauses to listen. For a moment there’s nothing, and he worries that perhaps you aren’t home after all, until he hears a soft sound coming muffled through the thick wood of your door. 
He presses his ear against it to listen closer, brow scrunched as he waits to hear the sound again, and a moment later his heart shatters as it becomes clear that what he’s hearing is your soft sobbing, interspersed with the occasional sniffle.
Bucky pushes your door open ever-so-carefully, cursing under his breath at the slight squeak of the wood on its hinges. It’s hard to see anything in your room, even with his perfect super-soldier eyesight, as the lights are off in here, too, the curtains closed to limit even the soft moonlight coming through the windows. 
His instinct is to flick on the light so he can see you better, but he doesn’t want to startle you, and besides, you obviously prefer the lights off or you would’ve turned them on yourself when it got dark. Instead he just steps further into the room, squinting his eyes as he can just barely make out the lump under the covers where you lay, curled in a ball in the center of your mattress, crying quietly.
He knows you must have heard his entrance, must realize he’s standing at the side of your bed right now, but you make no move to acknowledge him, continuing to sob softly as he watches on, heartbroken.
“Oh, darlin’...” he sighs, pulling the covers back a bit to expose your head, kneeling with one knee on the mattress so he can get a closer look at you.
You sniffle pitifully as you feel the cool air of the room on your face, extra cold against your cheeks where they’re wet with tears. Your vision is too blurry for you to actually see him, but you know who it is, know the scent of his cologne and the familiar touch of his fingers on your face as he brushes your hair back to see you better. 
Your stupid, traitorous nervous system reacts immediately to his presence, your panicked breaths slowing and your tears subsiding, a warm wash of comfort moving through your chest along with an instinctive sense of safety.
Your body knows nothing of the events of the past few hours, that he isn’t yours anymore, that he isn’t here to comfort you. It just instinctively calms under his attention, unaware that it is fleeting now, sure to be gone in only moments.
As the man you love wipes the tears gently from your face, his touch so sweet and soft it inadvertently causes more of them to fall, you force your hoarse voice to speak, the sound a barely audible croak even in the silence of your room. “Are you here to get your things?”
Bucky’s own eyes sting at your words, at the miserable tone to your voice as you say them, and he shakes his head vehemently, though he’s not sure you’re even really seeing him right now.
“No, baby, of course not. Why would I take my stuff, huh? I left those things here so I could use them when I’m visiting my girl, you know that,” he counters in a painfully soft voice, like he thinks speaking above a murmur will shatter you. Maybe he’s right about that, you do feel awfully close to shattering.
You feel the beginnings of a headache throbbing behind your eyes, and you close them for a moment, struggling to craft a coherent thought through all the heartbreak clouding your brain. Why is he here speaking nonsense when you’re in the middle of trying to mourn him? Does he not see that it’s cruel for him to be here with his comforting touch and his sweet voice, knowing that those things are lost to you forever now? 
“I’m not your girl anymore
” you mumble brokenly, the very act of having to speak the words into existence pulling another sob from your chest. 
Despite yourself you nuzzle your cheek into his palm as he cradles your face, desperate for his affection. If you’re never going to feel his touch again, you’ll bask in every opportunity while you have it, savoring the familiar warmth even as you question why he’s offering it to you in the first place.
Your face is pinched in concentration, like you’re trying to commit the sensation to memory, and Bucky’s heart might as well be in shards by his feet at this point, the way you seek out his touch like you’re starved for it. Like it hasn’t only been hours since he last gave it to you, like you’ll never have the chance to feel it again.
“Yes you are, baby, you’re always gonna be my girl. You’re mine, honey, just like I’m yours. Forever, haven’t I told you that?” he speaks desperately, like he’s pleading with you to agree with him, and although you’d love to, you have very recent evidence to the contrary.
“B-but, you said
” you trail off in a whisper, unable to repeat the words. You don’t need to anyways, you both know what he’d said. That he can’t do this. Can’t be with you anymore.
Bucky’s quick to interrupt you, needing you to understand that that’s not what he’d said, or, at least, not what he’d meant. “Baby, I didn’t- I’m sorry I said it like that, and I understand why you took those words the way you did. But that’s not what I meant to say, sweetheart, I swear.”
He huffs and slides a frustrated hand through his hair, suddenly unable to bear having this conversation with you while you lie curled up alone in your bed, looking up at him blankly with your shining eyes.
Before you can speak another word he peels back the covers some more, making room for himself as he slides into the bed beside you, pulling you up and onto his chest so he can hold you in his arms. The tears on your cheeks immediately soak through the soft cotton of his T-shirt, but he doesn’t care, cradling you tightly against his chest and rubbing slow, comforting circles onto your back.
You want to say something, to express your confusion at his incongruent behavior, but you can’t, not with his arms around you and his scent in your nose. You open your mouth to speak but all that comes out are more shuddering sobs, your body limp in his hold, completely helpless against the comfort he offers.
Even if he shouldn’t be, he’s here. He’s here, and he’s holding you like you’re something precious again, and even if you know that there must be some mistake you can’t stop yourself from completely melting into his embrace, any semblance of your remaining composure crumbling completely.
Bucky just coos softly, murmuring gentle assurances in your ear and holding you, solid and steady as you weather the storm of your heartbreak. Despite having spent the better part of the past two hours bawling your eyes out, the crying starts anew with him here, his comforting presence both a relief and a reminder of what you’ve lost, what you’ll be missing when he walks out that door again.
You two lie like that for a while, though whether it’s for a few minutes or several hours you can’t say, time stretching into infinity as you cry into his chest. As the tears finally subside once again, your body exhausted and your throat sore, your mind belatedly registers his words from before. He’d been saying something, hadn’t he? 
“What
” your voice comes out scratchy, so you clear your throat to be heard better - though Bucky couldn’t have missed a word out of your mouth if he tried, focused on you as he is. “What do you mean, that’s not what you meant? You broke up with me.”
Bucky shakes his head immediately, bringing his mismatched palms up to cradle your face, sweeping your hair back behind your ears so he can see his beautiful girl. God, it’s torture watching you cry, but he seems to have broken through to you somehow, and he’s not going to squander this opportunity to explain himself.
He can’t suppress the urge to lean down and drop a tender kiss to your forehead, though, your tear-stained face so pitiful he could cry right along with you if he didn’t have something more important to be doing at the moment.
“I mean, that’s not what I meant, sweetheart. I never intended to break up with you. How could I? Leave my girl, my princess? Don’t you know you mean more to me than every other person on this planet put together?” He speaks calmly but firmly, his gaze steady on yours as he practically begs you to believe him. You have to believe him.
You frown, confusion pulling your brows together as you take in his desperate expression. His words make your heart flutter with hope, but you don’t understand, can’t make sense of the reality he’s trying to assert when you know you heard otherwise only a couple of hours ago. It’s all a bit much for your heartbroken brain to handle, and you just blink at him blankly, completely lost.
“I don’t understand, Buck. Y-you were so upset, and then you left, and you said ‘I can’t do this, I'm done.’ I thought you meant we were done, that you can’t do us anymore.” you recall in a miserable voice, searching his eyes for answers as you desperately try to understand.
He nods empathetically, his thumbs brushing at the tears on your cheeks even as more continue to fall to take their place. “I know that’s what I said, sweet girl, and I know how it sounded to you, but that’s not at all how I meant it, I swear. I just
” Bucky sighs, his features plastered with remorse, his eyes falling from yours in shame.
“I was being an asshole. I knew, even as I was doing it, that I was being an asshole, that I couldn’t stop being an asshole, so I just
I wanted to get away from you before I lashed out any more, that’s all. I knew if I kept trying to discuss things with you right then I was only going to say more shit I didn’t mean, so I tried to put some space between us, just until I could cool off and be rational again.”
Bucky pauses, sighing deeply and stroking your cheeks. His eyes are swimming with guilt so deep it hurts your chest just to look at it. He looks almost as torn up about this whole ordeal as you do, which, although his pain isn’t something you revel in, does make your heart beat a little faster with hope. Would a man who doesn’t want to be with you anymore still look at you with that much guilt over having caused you pain?
When he speaks again his voice is low and strained with emotion, apologetic. “Darlin’, I
I am so sorry for the things I said to you today. I didn’t mean a single damn one of them. I love that you look after me, I love that I have someone waiting for me when I come home, making sure I’m not pushing myself too hard. I need you there to do that for me, because we both know I’m too proud and stubborn to take a break on my own. I got defensive, and I lashed out because I felt threatened, and that is not okay or fair to you. If you can’t forgive me for those things I said, I understand.” 
He swallows thickly, his eyes closing as hot tears sting the backs of them, fighting to escape. “But you need to know that when I told you I couldn’t ‘do this,’ I sure as hell didn’t mean you, or us. All I meant was that I couldn’t keep having that conversation with you, that I needed to get away before I hurt you worse. That’s all it was. When I left your apartment today, it was to get some space because I knew I was throwing a temper tantrum. In no way, shape, or form was I breaking up with you, or trying to end what we have. I couldn’t do that, it’s not in my DNA to do that. I’m simply not capable of it, and you have to know that. Even if you decide you’re better off without me, I need you to know that. Please.”
You stare down at him in the wake of his speech, watching as he blinks rapidly to keep tears at bay, and you’re so god damn confused in this moment that you wish he would give you a timeout, let you process everything he just said before you have to respond to it.
Could it possibly be true? That he’d never meant to break up with you, that he still loves and wants you? Could this all just be some massive misunderstanding on your part?
The possibility has hope fluttering warm in your chest, but you suppress it. Better to make absolutely sure first, before you let your heart get obliterated for the second time today. Letting yourself have this hope only to quash it moments later might actually break you for good.
“You weren’t
I mean, you didn’t want to break up with me?” you whisper hesitantly, afraid to let yourself believe it even though you’re desperate to.
Bucky’s heart cracks in his chest as you ask that so timidly, like just voicing the question is opening you up to a whole new potential world of hurt. He shakes his head firmly, his metal hand coming up to cradle the back of your skull, his fingertips massaging your scalp gently.
“No, babygirl, never. Not in a million years. Even though we were arguing, it was the last thing on my mind, trust me. I’ve never wanted to break up with you, not for a second. I love you,” he reassures you smoothly, his voice low and calm, exuding certainty.
You have to sniffle hard to hold back a fresh round of tears at those three simple words, ones you never thought you’d get to hear from him again. Jesus Christ, if you never cry again it’ll be too soon. Your gaze is particularly frail and fragile as it meets Bucky’s, some of that hope you’d been suppressing earlier making itself known in your features, tentative but present.
“So
you’re still my boyfriend?” you ask in a tiny murmur, like maybe this is the part where he pulls the rug out from under you and announces he was kidding about the whole misunderstanding thing.
Bucky’s features tighten a little at your question, and dread pools in your stomach rapidly, fearing the worst. But his words aren’t quite the heartbreaking blow you’re expecting, more like a puzzling wrinkle.
“If you want me to be, yeah, baby, I am.”
Your brow furrows, confused. What the hell does that mean? Suddenly, you recall a few other parts of his speech just now, parts that had been immediately overshadowed when he’d said that he still wanted to be with you. Now that you think about it, he’d also said a bunch of stuff along the lines of ‘If you can forgive me,’ and ‘If you decide you’re better off without me,’ hadn’t he?
What the hell was that all about? Why’s he talking about whether you want to be with him? Like you haven’t been literally bawling your eyes out for the past two hours at the prospect of having to live without him? How does that make any sense?
“Of course I want you to be. You think I was curled up on the floor sobbing because I was happy to think that our relationship was over?” you ask incredulously, frowning at him. 
He chuckles a little at that, the sound vibrating through you as you lay on his chest, but it’s strained, his expression vulnerable. Although you attribute this misunderstanding mostly to your own mind jumping to the worst possible conclusion, Bucky is riddled with guilt for both his abrupt exit from your apartment and the things he’d said leading up to it.
In his eyes you went through a lot of pain today, and every inch of it is his fault. If he’d stopped to explain his meaning, or, hell, if he hadn’t gotten so damn defensive in the first place, none of this would’ve happened. His girl wouldn’t have spent hours of her life sobbing on her hardwood floors if he’d just stopped to breathe like his therapist taught him to. His pale irises swim with shame as he gazes up at you.
“No, no, I just
I said some horrible things to you today, darlin’. And just because you were upset to think that I’d broken up with you doesn’t necessarily mean that all is forgiven, I know that. I understand if you’d rather keep us apart after the way I acted,” he murmurs defeatedly, like he’s already prepared himself for a thorough scolding.
Which is absolutely goddamn ridiculous, in your eyes. You snort, brows raised in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? All is forgiven, Buck, all is so past forgiven. I don’t care about the shit you said. You’re here, you’re still mine, that’s all that matters now. Forget the fight, forget all of it. I’ve got you, that’s all I care about.”
You say it so simply, like it could be so easy. Like his indiscretions are just wiped clean in the face of your pure relief. But he knows that they aren’t, they can’t be. It’s not that easy, as much as he’d like it to be. He fucked up, and he deserves what’s coming to him.
He tries to reason with you, his expression pained. “Baby, you can’t just-” 
“I absolutely can, actually,” you interrupt, looking unamused, stern. “I’m the one you said those things to, so I think I have the right to determine how I feel about them, don’t you?” You keep your eyebrows raised, challenging.
You watch as he mulls those words over a bit, licking his lips anxiously. It takes him a moment to decide how to respond, and when he does his words are slow, strained. Like maybe he doesn’t want to say them, but he feels like he has to.
“Yes, you do. It’s ultimately your decision, of course it is. I just
before you decide to blindly forgive me for this, I want you to really consider how you feel, okay? I know your instinct is to forget all about it because you’re just relieved to have me at all right now, but
I messed up. I hurt you, I said hurtful things even if I didn’t mean them. You didn’t deserve that, least of all from me, the man who’s supposed to love and protect you. You’re allowed to be upset about it, and if my actions made you realize that you don’t want to be with me anymore, then
you’re allowed to feel that way, too.”
His voice cracks on that last word, and your heart aches painfully in your chest at the sound. In this moment, you’re realizing with horror that Bucky truly believes he deserves to be broken up with tonight. With the unshed tears clinging to his lashline and the devastated look on his face, it’s clear that he doesn’t want to be dumped, that in fact that’s the last thing he wants.
But it’s obviously what he thinks should happen, the punishment he thinks he’s earned for the inadvertent heartbreak he put you through tonight, and that’s just
unacceptable, to be honest. 
The man would forgive you if you literally drove a stake through his chest, for Christ’s sake, yet he’s expecting you to kick him to the curb? What, because he got a little snippy with you? Because you jumped to the wrong conclusion and convinced yourself he left you? You would almost be insulted that he could think such a thing of you if you didn't know where the fear comes from.
You've seen them firsthand: the deep layers of self-loathing that have bogged him down since long before your relationship started, the inherent belief he carries that he is irreparably flawed and unworthy of love. He doesn't feel like he deserves you on his best day, so when he screws up, no matter the size of the infraction, he expects to be cast aside.
You reach out with one hand to cradle his cheek, his stubble gently scraping against your thumb as you caress his skin. Your expression is caring but firm, your eyes holding his as you speak in an even voice.
“I need you to understand that I don't expect you to be perfect, James. I don’t expect that you will always say the right thing, or have a perfectly even temperament in every situation because hell, none of us do. You’re allowed to fuck up sometimes, sweetheart, and you still deserve to be loved even when you do.”
His brow furrows as you speak, his instinct to reflexively deny the forgiveness you’re offering. “But I hurt you,” he interjects, the look on his face so miserable it tugs at your chest.
You nod your agreement, though your expression is still full of compassion and love. “Yes, you did. I won’t even begin to address the break-up fiasco because that was a complete misunderstanding on my part, but yes, the things you said before you left really stung me. Do you know why I’m going to forgive you anyways, though? Why, even if this happens again, I’ll probably forgive you a hundred times over?”
You pause for effect, giving him the opportunity to respond. Honestly, as upset as you’ve been these past few hours, it’s all begun to fade in the face of this man you love trying to convince you he’s not worth it. When he just looks at you helplessly, his eyes tracking your speech with rapt attention, you smile and continue.
“It’s because I know you’d never hurt me on purpose, Bucky. Let me ask you something: when you snapped at me today, did you do it because you were trying to find the absolute meanest thing you could say at that moment? Did you say it because you wanted me to feel bad?”
Looking a bit startled at the suggestion, Bucky shakes his head mutely. He hadn’t really even been conscious of the words at all until after they’d already blurted from his mouth, and even then it didn’t fully sink in until after he’d calmed down. You smile, satisfied by his immediate denial. 
“No, of course you didn’t. You didn’t say that stuff to be mean, to hurt just for hurting’s sake. You were feeling ambushed and defensive, and you lashed out. Is it ideally how you’ll always react when I try to express my concern for your wellbeing? No, of course not. But is it a realistic thing for a person to do who’s not used to being cared for? Absolutely, it is. And it’s just something we’re gonna have to work on, baby. I’ve never done this whole relationship thing before, and you’re trying to do it for the first time in 80 years with a hell of a lot of additional trauma thrown into the mix. 
“We’re learning, and it’s not always gonna be perfect or easy. Maybe before this becomes an issue again, we’ll think up some ways for you to politely tell me ‘I’m feeling overwhelmed by this conversation, please back off and we can come back to it later.’ Or maybe we’ll discuss how I can voice my concerns to you in the future without triggering your defensive response, how I can come off as less accusatory and make the discussion feel more safe for you.
“We’ve only been doing this for six months, and as real as it is, as much as I love you more than anything, we’re gonna face a hell of a lot more than this one hurdle if we want to keep doing this thing in the long term. So, yeah, tonight has sucked, pretty much every minute of it was a disaster, but you know what? It’s over now. You apologized, we’re gonna try and do better next time, and
that’s the end of it. Clean slate. All I want to do with the rest of my night is finally stop fucking crying, and eat a burger the size of my head. Preferably, with my boyfriend next to me the whole time, trying to steal my fries when I’m not looking. Do you think you could help me make that happen, Buck? Please?”
He looks stunned in the wake of your speech, silent for several moments as his brain struggles to grapple with the reality of your easy forgiveness. He blinks at you hard, like he truly can’t believe that you’re not running in the opposite direction right now, burning every trace of your life together and cursing his name the whole way.
But the truth is, you’d already made up your mind to forgive him the second you realized he hadn’t meant to break up with you in the first place, and Bucky must see that, too, because the fight in his eyes is slowly dimming into something more fragile, vulnerable. 
His gaze fixes on yours in the dark, searching for some hidden shard of resentment or anger that you may be holding back for his sake, but he doesn’t find it, there is no such thing for him to find. You just smile weakly up at him, exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the day but no less sincere, and when he blows out a slow breath through his nose, you know you’ve got him.
He’s definitely not done badgering himself about the mistakes he made today, not by a long shot, but he must see your weariness on your face, your desperate need to move on from this at least for the moment, so he nods slowly, his flesh hand rising to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear.
“Yeah, sweetheart, we can make that happen. Whatever you want.”
Your smile brightens, the relief so stark in your features that it brings a lump to his throat, and when you press your lips against his he makes a silent promise to never put you in a position like this again, to never let his bullshit drag you down or put your relationship at risk like he did today.
He’ll go to therapy twice a damn week if he has to, you deserve better than his temper tantrums, than cruel words spoken out of a defensiveness he doesn’t need anymore. Not with you. 
Half an hour later finds you perched in his lap, draped in one of his hoodies and talking and laughing at your favorite diner like there never was an argument, like not a single tear was shed today. He hates that the joy on your face is most likely motivated by your sheer relief that he’s still yours, but he can’t complain about the sparkle in your eyes, nor the way you lean back against his chest as you sip your shake.
Obliging your request, he steals some fries off your plate while you gesticulate wildly through a story, a warm flutter going off in his chest when you pretend to squawk in protest. He soaks in every second, every twitch of your lips and brush of your hand against his, reminding himself what he could have lost, what he perhaps deserved to lose after his actions today. 
He’ll make this up to you, he knows he will - heïżœïżœs sure Natasha will have plenty of suggestions for how he can start. He thinks back to that little velvet box he’s got buried deep in the back of his sock drawer, a sharp pull tugging at his heart as he realizes he almost lost his chance to give it to you at all. He resolves right here and now, basking in the warm light of your infinite patience for him, that he won’t take that box out until he’s earned it.
He hates to wait even a second longer, itches to lock you down with every passing moment, but he won’t ask you to make that kind of commitment to him until he’s sure he’s the man that you need him to be. As he presses a firm kiss to your temple, swiping another morsel from the edge of your plate with a smile, he swears up to his Ma that he will work hard to deserve you, even if you seem to think he already does.
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robinasnyder · 4 months ago
Text
Ya know, Jay’s going to therapy. Jon mentions as much in Shazam, and there’s still like suggestions about it in Secret Six. But is Jon going to therapy? Imma bet no. I bet you the answer is no.
Jon has a very real problem, which boils down to this: in trying desperately to avoid dealing with his own trauma, he’s trying to force himself and the people around him back into the past, rather than moving forward and trying to deal with the present situation post trauma. He says multiple times that he wants things to go back to the way they were before. Back before everything happened, back when Jon could say he was good and not feel like it might be a lie.
I think that if Jon hadn’t been kidnapped and mind controlled that Jon never would have been so forgiving of Nia. Even if Nia had died and helped to save him twice, I don’t think he would feel so strongly about wanting Jay to forgive her and let it go.
His problem with Jay hating Nia isn’t that Nia saved Jon, or that Jon’s worrying about Jay wanting revenge. Jon is heavily projecting what happened to him onto Nia. Nia was blackmailed. Jon was brainwashed. Jon was forced to be a back seat driver to his own body. And he watched himself devastate the community he’d grown up in, the heroes he thought were so good and the people who would look up to him. And despite the fact that his body and powers were used like a weapon he wasn’t even party to using, he’s terrified that what happened makes him unforgivable.
When Jon gets upset about Jay not forgiving Nia, it’s because Jon seems to believe on some subconscious level that if Nia can still be a good person, if she can be forgiven, then Jon’s sins aren’t unforgiveable.
For Jon, Nia’s his mirror. For Jay, she’s the enemy.
Unfortunately, if Jon doesn’t figure this out fast, he’s going to lose his boyfriend. Yes, Nia did save Jon, but she was also part of why Jay lost so much. Jay’s living very much in the present, in what’s happened, in what to do next. I think that’s a function of everything Jay’s suffered before now too. He doesn’t have the privilege to not be aware and present in what’s going on. The slightest misstep and he can lose even more. I bet keeping his eyes wide open is how he escaped, and how he’s made it this far. I bet he probably has problems letting go and not constantly keeping an eye on threats. Like him watching Waller in her cell. The fact that he’s not as paranoid as Batman at this point is an actual miracle.
So, Jay’s got both eyes open, looking forward, while Jon’s looking behind them. They’re walking down the road together, hands clasped tight, but Jon keeps bumping into and stepping on Jay because he’s not looking forward.
I wanna add, the part where Jon is trying to argue with the guard about letting them in really stands out to me. He’s clinging so hard to the concept of being good, of being Superman’s son, of being someone who can hold that mantel. There’s a heavy instability in the guilt, and he’s drowning in it. If he can’t figure out his problem, he’s going to take multiple people down with him.
That being said, I believe that if Jon can identify his issue and put it into words and admit it that he’ll actually fix it. Right now, he’s focused so much on Jay, how Jay’s doing, how he’s healing, that Jon isn’t working on his own problems. Almost like he doesn’t think he deserves to heal, or feel better, or anything but suffer. But that type of mentality will straight up kill relationships.
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lvmimis · 4 months ago
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cw: part 2 of the romantic getaway series. exes to lovers. lots of bkdk banter.
It’s 8:30 am on the dot when Izuku hears the treads of Katsuki’s car make it to the front of his apartment building and Izuku is thankful he decided to forgo the coffee he considered buying before his friend arrived. Before Izuku can get to the door, Katsuki has rolled the window down and is looking at him with a look of mild annoyance as he sees the suitcase, overstuffed to bursting, propped up next to his friend.
“There better not be a single figurine in there.”
Izuku, in relatively good humor considering the fact that he barely slept the night before, chuckles as he approaches the rising back of Katsuki’s car, dropping his suitcase, nearly twice the size as Katsuki’s, with a thud in the trunk.
“Only the letters from your most devoted haters for some light reading.”
If Katsuki is annoyed by it, Izuku will never find out because by the time he closes the trunk and comes back over to the passenger side of the car, he realizes that Katsuki is staring at his shoes.
He sighs as he gets in.
“Mirio’s team gave these to me for free. I’m not sending any subliminal messages, Kacchan.”
Katsuki won’t say anything else about the fact that his friend is wearing his girlfriend’s ex’s line of sneakers and it bothers him, because that would be immature so rather he presses the push to start button of the car and starts their course to the airport without further ado.
Izuku watches his apartment, which feels less like home these days and more like a place to lay his head, fade in the distance. There’s something wistful about it. He’s literally only leaving for a week, Saturday to Saturday, but he gets the impression that he won’t come back to it the same way he left it. 
Turning back to the road, he lets out another sigh. Katsuki has moved on from whatever train of thought had assailed him and now grips the steering wheel less tightly.
“Okay, here’s what I need you to understand.”
Izuku braces himself, slumping in his seat as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sky blue sweatshirt, perhaps a little too conspicuous for an up and coming hero, but one of his favorite colors since his adolescence.
“Yes?” Izuku says, knowing that if he doesn’t respond out loud to show he’s giving him his full attention, Katsuki will wait before speaking, then get angrier the longer he waits.
Katsuki readjusts in his seat and cracks his neck on both sides, then throws a sideways glance at Izuku.
“You and that girl of yours are not doing anything to fuck up this vacation, you hear me?”
“Here we go,” Izuku mutters under his breath, but Katsuki is still doing precisely that, going.
“Over the course of this trip, I have two primary goals-” he honks at a car that cuts him off abruptly, but decides to leave it at that because he simply has bigger fish to fry, and that’s his childhood friend in the car beside him who already looks like he’s sulking.
“I am going to FUCK” - the emphasis on it almost has Izuku side-eyeing him - “and I am going to enjoy myself, which means there will be no arguing and there will be no crying.”
“Why are you assuming I would-” Izuku starts but Katsuki’s red glare reminds him that he’s wasting his time.
“I don’t want either of the two of you doing any type of shit that’s gonna make us leave early.  You hear me? Not at the airport, not on the plane, not at the hotel, not at any buffet line, not at the bars, not on the hiking trails, not ANYWHERE, okay?”
Izuku lets out a sigh.
“I’m serious. If she says ‘don’t look at me’, don’t fucking look at her.”
“Are you really policing where my eyes go, Kacchan?”
“Do NOT.”
Katsuki makes a sharp but precise turn and Izuku considers if he should put in his earphones to ignore him and risk a real fight. His friend seems to have gotten the coffee that Izuku skipped and in some ways he envies his passion, but this is annoying he has to admit.
He’s a grown man. He can behave in public and you’re just as cordial, for the most part. It will be fine.
But something mischievous in Izuku’s chest flares up every once in a while when Katsuki is giving him one of his lectures and it comes up now.
“Okay, so what happens if you and ___ fight then?” 
Katsuki’s neck snaps towards him at the speed of light.
“Hah!?”
“Look at the road.” Izuku retorts calmly.
“I will literally turn this car around and kill us both, don’t piss me off.” Katsuki hisses.
“I mean, neither of us will die, but okay. You’ll literally just raise your insurance.”
Izuku’s cool voice hangs in the air as Katsuki realizes he’s right. He doesn’t say another word aside from a noncommittal grumble and there’s peace finally, enough so that Izuku can shut his eyes and think of how best to face you, for the rest of the short ride.
—
“This feels a little more prestigious than I was anticipating,” you whisper to your friend, as you follow an escort to the airport lounge that just precedes the gate to your plane. From your vantage point, especially once the two of you are seated in what feels like an entire secret terminal separate from the remainder of the international airport, you can see that the plane itself is a relatively small carrier, but is painted far too extravagantly, as though an advertisement for Romance in and of itself.
Your friend is slightly distracted as you speak to her, and you can tell that she’s corresponding with Katsuki to clarify his whereabouts. You look at your own phone - notifications from many social media apps and a few text messages from your parents and siblings and overseas friends that were sent at odd hours, wishing you a good trip, emails from work preparing for your official return. You’re not exactly sure what you are waiting for, and when the thought occurs to you that it might be a text message from Izuku, you physically shake the thought out of your head and shove your phone in the pocket.
As soon as you put it away however, it buzzes, and you realize you’re in a four way group chat.
Where are you guys? <3
Immediately after she sends that message, she sends you a separate message.
Don’t you dare leave the chat.
You can feel your stomach turn.
You can see Izuku typing for a moment, a bubble and three dots hovering next to his name, but it disappears after a few moments, and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. 
Suddenly you’re very self conscious about the way you look. Minimal makeup on your face. Your leggings and sneakers might be nice, but you haven’t done your hair in any way, opting for a french turban to clean up your look. You look nice and casual, but not eat-your-heart-out nice. Your handbag is-
You freeze. Izuku bought you this bag.
Your face is a blazing hot mess when the two men suddenly arrive. Your friend jumps out of her seat to hug Katsuki, leaving you and Izuku staring at each other for the first time in at least two months. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you try to inch your carry on bag, the gifted tote slightly behind you, hoping he won’t notice. He doesn’t, you think; he waves awkwardly, almost a salute to you and averts his eyes quickly.
You wave back, then try to find something else to occupy you.
You hate that every time you look at Izuku in person, you remember that pictures and videos never do him justice. He’s so much more handsome in the flesh, every time, and even though he’s clearly uncomfortable, a red tinge to his neck and the apples of his cheeks, he smiles nervously, especially when the attendant that brought them to this lounge reminds him his shoes have untied, and you can feel your heart go pitter-patter.
No. Absolutely not.
“Promise me you didn’t add those feather boas back into your luggage,” you overhear Katsuki say. Your friend’s arm is hooked around his, and you can hear her dodge the question artfully, as if the pink item isn’t peeking out of her carry on bag. She’d told you Katsuki helped her repack her bags last night, and had a lot to say about her choices, but you also know that she’s a free spirit and does whatever she feels despite her more rigid counterpart.
You’ve probably overpacked but that’s always been your modus operandi.
Izuku is still standing, unsure where to position himself in a way that’s close enough that he’s a member of the party, but not enough that he’s threatening your space. Just the thought of him being close is a bit suffocating and you’re far too aware of him to pretend he’s not around; in fact it’s starting to feel like he’s the only person in the room; everyone else that has filed in is starting to fall away into the background bit by bit.
Eventually, you suck in a deep breath, and decide to harden your heart just enough.
“You can sit there, Izuku, just don’t bother me,” is what comes out of your mouth.
It’s icy cold, especially the way that you call him by his name and not any form of ‘baby’ the way you would have just three months ago, and Izuku visibly deflates in response, but he nods and sits by you anyway per your direction. Despite the larger countenance from his broad shoulders and his athletic hero build, he makes himself as small as possible in the adjacent seat, so as to not upset you.
It’s the last thing he wants to do.
“Thanks.”
You bite your lower lip as you look away, but don’t respond. When you look up, your friend is giving you the two of you an appraising look, but looks away just as quickly, tossing her glance somewhere nonspecific.
A few more moments pass in silence, until it’s time to board.
You can be cordial for a week - you must.
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opal-owl-flight · 1 year ago
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Edge of Chaos.
Remember how 4 gave herself up to Overlorder in my SO interp...what if 3 gives themself up to a chaotic entity?
Uhhh "side Chaos" type what-if situation bc I was inspired by fucking Lego Monkey Kid of all things. Deets below! (And LMK ending/spoilers for those who watch.) Its VERY ALL OVER THE PLACE FORGIVE ME
"Listen, listen. I am the light outside your dark cave. Come to me, Ill set you free."
I think the argument that sways them is the fact that the ordered world is suffocating everyone. The world as it is, its Plato's cave. The unknown, the chaos, its whats outside. Remember how tye point of Side Order is that an Ordered World would be shit, bc itd mean something perfectly stagnant?
Chaos leans HARD into that. But does it in a way that tears the current world apart. Burns whats going bad, but also whats going good.
"Look at everyone, writhing in pain, trying to fit in.
Wouldnt it be better, if those boxes were all gone?"
It slithers to whisper in 3s ear.
"Including yours?"
It starts with arguing abt the world's state. And then it pierces them where it hurts.
A life that they couldve lived. Alt3, yknow. A life outside the war.
...they look so much happier there...
The voice of chaos goes on, convincing them that if they join It, the world will be saved by them, which ALREADY gets them on board almost immediately. Then with the promise of a life better than what they have rn? Its the best of both worlds. They save the world, one final time, then they'll be free.
Theyre caught, theres no way out.
----
3 bowing to Chaos to save the world. Because its the only way for everyone to live a life beyond these secret wars. To live a life beyond the strict tenets the current world presses upon them. The world they carried all these years, and for what? Everyone STILL being stuck in those boxes? Status quo that wasnt the best thing in the first place? ("The world was breaking even before you started doing something about it.")
Theyre sick of having to keep the world the way it is. They gave EVERYTHING for this war. Theyve had enough.
3 finally living a life, like what 4 and 8 have been begging them to do, but oops. Oops. The rest of the world would get torn to shreds. A "burn everything down and start over" deal.
What makes it different from Order, then?
They cant think of that now, theyre finally free.
----
4 gave up her chaos in SO bc she thought that is what itll take for 3 to accept her again. 3 gave up their order in this hypothetical bc they wanted to set the world free, but also so that they can be fully with 4s chaos.
----
This ALL STARTED bc the mc of the show kept saying that it has to be him who saves the world, theres no other way. Which is...something 3 does on the damn regular. They carry the hero role and give this burden to no one else. To the ends of the earth, til the end of their life.
The lesson of this is "do things in moderation" -- that making the world a better place starts with little steps. Filling in the cracks. Some things work, dont burn everything to the ground so fast.
And most important of all. Stick together.
Which is a lesson 3 learns.
-----
Neat design note: 4 has her black tipped tentacles from SO. 3 would get white-tipped ones from this thing.
Why white? Besides being the opposite of Overlorder's black ink, it represents its narrative of being the light at the end of the tunnel/out the ("ordered boxes"/destiny/etc) cave theming for chaos.
When they look at themself in tge mirror after what theyve done, they see someone unrecognizable AGAIN.
They thought for themself this time. And the world went to shit. Were they really the only pillar?
now they look even more dead than before. Is this really the life they were promised?
The one they wanted?
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dessarious · 1 year ago
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What Makes a Family? Pt27
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Marinette walked down the stairs to find Cass scowling at Bruce and signing rapidly. Selina was whispering with her Maman, who looked far too amused, so Cass had to be laying into him pretty hard. Damian was looking on in confusion, but the other boys were nodding along with whatever her twin was saying. She really needed to have Cass teach her to sign. Chloe appeared next to her.
"I'm actually learning new terms. You sister is extremely creative with swearing." Of course, that would be what impressed Chloe. Mari had to wonder how much of it was just not knowing common terms, so she made up her own.
"I don't want to mess up her relationship with him." Chloe scoffed.
"Given the way the others are reacting, this isn't the first, or worst, of his overstepping. I'm thinking this is a long overdue rant."
"You did what when I was with Babs?" Dick's indignant shout startled most of the room. "Yeah, I'm never bringing anyone home ever again. Not unless I've been married for two years." Mari sent Chloe a questioning glance.
"Trust me, you don't want to know." Yeah, if Chloe was saying that... she really didn't want to know.
"You've never known when to butt out, old man. The difference this time is that you don't have any right to butt in in the first place." Jason's tone was downright hostile.
"She's my daughter."
"A biological connection doesn't mean you own me. I'll be eighteen in three months anyway and I'm completely financially independent, so if you want any type of relationship with me, it's going to be on my terms, Mr. Wayne. Those terms will include not interfering in my relationships with others, romantic or otherwise, and not telling me how I'm allowed to live my life." He looked like he was going to argue, but Cass signed at him before standing beside Mari. He looked at the boys for help, but the only one not glaring at him was Damian.
"Marinette, you're young. You have no idea the danger-"
"Do not pretend you know anything about me or my life, let alone what I do and do not know. I assure you, I know what I'm doing, and Luka and Kagami are not a threat or a problem. If you can't accept that, then you can leave." She hadn't wanted to get to this point so soon, especially since it put Cass's ability to stay in question. Unfortunately, she also wasn't willing to set a precedent with him by letting him think he could act this way with her. She'd been around enough powerful people to know that if she didn't set boundaries now, she'd never be able to enforce them. Jagged was proof of that.
"Perhaps we should discuss this privately." No way was that happening. She could almost see the hero lecture waiting to burst out of him.
"After what you just tried to pull, and your apparent history of browbeating your kids into things, we're not about to let that happen." Tom's voice was harder than she'd ever heard it. "If you won't respect my daughter's boundaries, you'll be asked to leave." The emphasis he put on 'my daughter' caused Bruce to flinch. She would feel worse about it if not for the fact that all her siblings, besides Damian, seemed to approve of it.
"I think we should separate for the time being, and try this again later. Tempers are high, so we all need space to calm down." Sabine sounded cheerful enough, but there was a hard edge to her words that everyone caught. As much as Mari thought it was a good idea, they were in a bit of a time crunch.
"Given that they're only going to be here for a week, it might be best to get things settled. But, if Bruce isn't willing to compromise, there's not much point in continuing this discussion." She could hear how tired she sounded and given the concerned looks at her and glares at Bruce, everyone else could, too.
"By compromise you mean letting you decide everything." The sulkiness in Bruce's voice made her roll her eyes. Yes, this had to suck for him, but he couldn't honestly expect her to let him just take over her life.
"No, but there are going to be things that aren't negotiable. I'm not going to tell you how to live your life, and I'd appreciate the same courtesy. We know next to nothing about eachother, and until we do it's not really fair to have an opinion on each other's lives." He didn't seem to know what to do with that. She was sure that, for a man used to being in charge, it wasn't something he had experience with. "I want to get to know you, all of you, but I'm not going to change who I am or how I live my life to do it. If you can't accept that, you can leave."
Cass hugged her from behind, and Mari could feel her twin glaring at Bruce. As much as she had hoped it wouldn't be necessary, it was obvious who Cass would side with in this. Of the boys, Jason seemed firmly entrenched on her side, Dick and Tim were more of a neutral, and Damian just seemed confused, but he'd most likely side with Bruce for the time being. Hopefully, it wouldn't destroy her chance of getting to know him permanently. When it became obvious Bruce either couldn't or wouldn't back down, Selina went over to start whispering in his ear. Alfred had been scarily silent through everything, and Mari really wasn't certain what to make of it.
"You need my help." Selina rolled her eyes, and Alfred just shook his head. The man really needed to learn when to back down.
"I need Cass. That's it." He flinched, and even the boys were trading looks. Bruce was closing off. She could see it. "I need to show Cass her new school. Why don't you take the evening to think things over? We can try this again tomorrow when everyone is calmer." Bruce looked about ready to explode.
"That sounds like a good idea. Master Bruce, we should head back to the hotel." The glare Bruce sent Alfred didn't phase the man at all. The stern look he sent back had the boys looking like they were ready to wet themselves.
"Fine." Bruce signed something at Cass and she felt her twin stiffen up behind her. Chloe looked like she was about to start screaming at him, too.
"Miss Cassandra will be staying with Miss Marinette. Indefinately." Alfred's tone was frigid and just about everyone seemed to be cowering or eyeing the man like he was going to explode. Even Bruce hunched in on himself a tiny bit. "Now we really should be on our way."
Mari had a feeling Alfred was going to be having a long conversation with Bruce. She just hoped it had the desired outcome. The man obviously had control issues, and she couldn't afford to have him try to take over her life. She had a feeling she was already going to have a major issue with Batman trying to step on her toes once he actually went through an Akuma attack. She couldn't count on there not being one before he and the others went home. Not to mention, if she'd heard right, he could just use some tech the Justice League had to teleport back at any time. She'd have to ask Cass about that, too.
Selina practically pushed Bruce out the door, while the boys followed under Alfred's gaze. Before going joining the rest, Jason shoved a piece of paper in her hand with a wink. She had a feeling he was one brother she could count on not to run to Bruce with information.
Once they were all out of the door, Mari felt herself relax. She felt terrible that things had gone downhill so quickly, but there really wasn't another option at this point. She couldn't afford to show weakness. There was far too much at stake, both in her personal life and as a hero. Cass tightened her hold on Mari.
"He needs time. He'll calm down."
"Unfortunately, time isn't something we have right now. If this doesn't get better, I'm going to have to force him to leave Paris before Hawkmoth is back in fighting form." She didn't even want to think about how much that would piss him off. She had a feeling Batman's ego wouldn't take too well to being thrown out of a city by another hero. Alfred and Selina would take her side... at least she thought so.
"Alfred will make things right." She wasn't quite sure what Cass meant by that, but she hoped she was right. She opened the paper that Jason handed her and heard Cass giggle behind her.
If you need someone to help you hassle B, give me a shout. ~Jason
It had five phone numbers on it. If she didn't know his 'occupation', it would seem excessive. It did mean she had at least one of her brothers on her side when it came to Bruce though. Whether that was a good thing or not was yet to be determined.
"Why don't we head over to the school? There are a few clubs meeting, so I know the building is open. That way, you can get a feel for the layout before tomorrow." She knew it would stress Cass out if they didn't scope out the building. It was going to be bad enough being around so many new people.
"You don't want to eat first?" Given the looks her Maman was shooting at the door, she was more worried about them running into Bruce than the actual food, but it was a good idea anyway.
"Of course, Maman. We wouldn't want it to go to waste." Especially since she made enough to feed the whole city again. Maybe she should text Jason and see if he wanted to meet them at the school and they could bring him some. "Maybe we could take some to go as well. I wanted to show Cass the houseboat, and if it's late enough, we might stay there." It wasn't a lie, just not the whole truth.
"Probably a good idea. It'll give your father and I time to talk to Bruce should he decide to come looking for you." She really hoped he didn't. Her Maman might actually kill him. She would text Selina or Alfred to make sure he didn't come over, but she had a feeling that would have the opposite effect she was looking for. After they ate and while her Maman was boxing up food, her Papa motioned her out into the hallway.
"What's wrong?" She heard the panic in her own voice and her Papa winced.
"Nothing's wrong. I didn't mean to worry you. I just wanted to make sure you were handling everything alright. I know things have been tense, and you tend to overthink everything without letting anyone know." She leaned forward slightly, and that's all it took for him to envelop her in a hug. Her Papa gave the best hugs.
"What if he makes her go back?" She knew it was an irrational thought, but it wouldn't go away. Her Papa hugged her tighter.
"That's not going to happen. We won't let it, and more importantly, Cass won't let it. I truly don't believe there's a force strong enough to separate the two of you. And if there is, Plagg will get rid of it." Marinette started giggling and couldn't stop. It was a little disturbing that she found the image of Plagg getting rid or Bruce amusing, but she was willing to chalk it up to stress.
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animesandi · 4 months ago
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MY FAV CHARACTERS IN 1A CLASS ~~
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KATSUKI BAKUGO : Do I really need to explain? I mean, he's everything i need and want, a friend, a rival, an enemy, a lover, a classmates!!! His personality is incredible, and his character development is just amazing!!! I love Horikoshi for having created him that way, and didn't take the prototype as the real Katsuki!!
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IZUKU MIDORIYA :
Again, do I need to explain? He's the main character, a cinnamon roll, a cutie patootie, a sunshine, he's my everything!! His character development is also pretty good, even if most people find him annoying because of how much the anime talks about his past and not others' past. But he's still one of my fav!!!
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MINA ASHIDO and TORU HAGAKURE :
Both are close friends, and are literally those hyped, energetic and cute girls who everyone needs as their friends, especially introvert people! And as an introvert person, I need Mina and Toru as my friends! I can't stop thinking that days with her would be tiring, but actually more exciting and thrilling than my normal days!! Their energy and personality are perfect!!!
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MASHIRAO OJIRO :
This character from class 1A is one of the most underrated, but I don't understand why at all!! His funny, kind, caring, and actually has a good quirk! I did martial art (Taekwondo and Judo) and seeing a character in MHA doing martial art and saying it, it literally makes me relate! Love Him So Much!!!
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JIRO KYOKA :
Do I need to explain myself? This girl is literally my type of human!! I love how she's always so carefree and cool, and her blushing is sooooo cute!! The way she can play many instrument and knows singing is just making me fall!! I love people who plays many instruments (virtuosos), and she's literally one!!!
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SHOTO TODOROKI :
Probably many people and fan relate to him because of his Daddy Issues, like I also do. But can you blame me? I don't think, so. I have daddy issues since a while now, probably since my little sister is born. I would like to have Shoto's confidence and boldness when he argues or talk back to his father, because I just can't talk back like he does
 That's why he's in this list!!!
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HITOSHI SHINSOU and SHOTA AIZAWA :
Hitoshi's character development and the fact that he'll be in class 2 instead of Aoyama because he felt like he wasn't deserving to stay at UA since he was traitor is literally the best thing that could happen after war against All For One and the League of Villains!! The fact that certainly and probably do insomnias is making me relate (again) to him, because I have sleeping troubles TwT
Aizawa is like a father for the whole class 1A, but especially Shinso (and a tiny bit Izuku), and I love him. He doesn't show anything of his real feelings, but he's deeply affected by the fact that Kurogiri was actually Oboro and all this stuff, that his students might suffer, that his friends could be hurt, and I just love it!!!
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TAMAKI AMAJIKI :
He's the complete and right description of me. I relate to him so much, since I'm literally him. I'm anxious socially, depressed, introvert and I like staying and being at home, even if I look all extrovert and energetic on social medias! I feel quickly stressed and anxious when all attention is on me, and I can't help but relate to him soooooo much!
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KEIGO TAKAMI (HAWKS) :
Keigo is the type of man who could do anything for his beloved. Do I need to say more about him?? His character development is also so good, and the way he talked to Lady Nagant is just so reassuring and comforting!!! I want, no, I need a friend like him!!
That's all the characters I love and without them, well, My Hero Academia won't be the same!
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ppppxseur · 9 months ago
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characters that i believe are black
what are my qualifications you may ask? i'm black. thats it those are my qualifications
also if i see a single comment about "blackwashing" i will lose my SHIT, i swear to god
also theres no fandom order for this so good luck trying to figure out what's coming next
MINA ASHIDO (MY HERO ACADEMIA)
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she breakdances, she's spunky, she's energetic. she's deffo one of those black girls who wears cookie monster pajama pants to school and adopts shy kids cuz she doesn't have that type of shame
like... need i make myself clear enough?
also she definitely has some sort of vitiligo
IZUKU MIDORIYA (MY HERO ACADEMIA)
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i mean... he has no father. horikoshi practically screamed in my face that this kid is black as fuck.
he deffo cant cook tho, which i like to think is something that bakugou teases him relentlessly for
also this boy is tenderheaded as fuck and cries when mina does his hair
LUCINDA (APHMAU MCD/MYSTREET)
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LOOK AT HER. look me in the eyes and tell me RIGHT now that that is not an albino black woman
you cant, im simply correct on everything
god i miss my girl. lucinda you deserve the world and you deserve all of the screentime and i cannot believe that bitch aaron SNATCHED the screentime that was rightfully yours
THE STRILONDES (HOMESTUCK)
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"but do you mean all of-" YES. ALL OF THEM. they are all black and they are all jewish hussie told me so himself, argue with the GODDAMN wall.
ARADIA / DAMARA MEGIDO (HOMESTUCK)
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my favorite weird girl <3
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"but the megidos are asi-" WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE. SHUT UP.
first of all the fact that damara's typing quirk was just Straight Up Japanese (and not even GOOD japanese either) is NOT the best fucking look if you want to potray another race. but also people can be biracial that is a thing and i hc the megidos as being blasian.
there is everyone happy? good now lets keep going
NEPETA / MEULIN LEIJON (HOMESTUCK)
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(my second favorite weird girl)
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(my THIRD favorite weird girl)
i dunno. theyre my faves. i love them. therefore they are black. i feel like i dont need much explanation other than that
KARKAT / KANKRI VANTAS (HOMESTUCK)
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ugh. the thing that sucks about ones with family (or... i guess in the trolls case, the closest thing of "family" you can get) is that you have to make them all the same race or otherwise you have to explain the weird shit
kankri is lightskinned and uses his white passing privilege for evil.
also before you even THINK about trying to pass off white vantas: LOOK at their fucking storyline. just LOOK at it.
(before i move on from homestuck, i just wanna mention a quick side note: i didnt include gamzee or kurloz for one Very Obvious reason and thats the fact that, just like damara and her incredibly broken and bad Japanese as hussie's horrendous attempts to include other races in homestuck, i simply believe that the notion of all purple bloods being naturally incredibly violent is Not A Good Look. especially adding in that the only reason why gamzee is pacified is because he's doing the troll equivalent of hard drugs. and you can make an argument because... well.. what about kurloz? and to that my response would be WHAT ABOUT HIM? because i dont remember dick diddly and SQUAT about him and i dont really care.
so yeah i didnt include the makaras because while i do believe they are black i dont believe theyre the best representation because the only reason why people think that is because of the incredibly racist undertones of it)
ANYWAY i'm doing ONE more because this thread is already so goddamn long
POPPY AND VIVA (TROLLS)
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the silliest girls possibly in the entire universe. i think they're black and hispanic mixed (im thinking maybe dominican or cuban)
ANYWAY! end of this long ass fucking thread. i cant believe my first fucking post on this account was this monster of a thread
anyway, follow me if you like any of these fandoms ig
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cluescorner · 1 year ago
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Tim Drake has a weird fucking function
The thing about Tim that I find unique is that his life became SO MUCH WORSE after joining the heroing thing. Everybody else had a mid-to-shit life before becoming a hero/living with Bruce and mostly everybody (except Jason who LITERALLY DIED) had their life improved by being a hero/being Bruce's kid (or at least it is typically portrayed as such.
Tim had the exact opposite trajectory. His life wasn't perfect before he became Robin, but like...multi-millionaire/billionaire (canon is unclear, but he's within Gotham's upper-strata) kid with both natural intelligence + charisma and a bright future ahead of him and parents who were emotionally neglectful but nothing really beyond that (which is also a form of trauma, but all of the info we have indicates that the Drakes were no Arthur Brown or David Cain) and he still had other people he could rely on outside of them. He went to boarding school, which could be something horrible OR something amazing depending on your own thoughts/experiences. I grew up having a commute where we'd drive past a really pretty and rich af boarding school that literally everybody in our area DREAMED of going to, so to me the idea of going to boarding school sounds incredible but mileage may vary. Tim seems like the type of kid who would thrive in that though. Based on what we know in canon atm, his pre-robin life was fucking amazing.
And then he starts being the sidekick and working towards becoming Robin. His parents immediately get kidnapped and poison themselves through drinking tainted water; his mom dies and his dad is in a coma. This is not the fault of Robin, but Tim himself muses about the idea that Robin and dead parents are linked: to become Robin completely, you must lose your parents. And with how fate/destiny/canon events can operate in comics universes, maybe he isn't that far off. Once his dad wakes up, their relationship becomes strained as the man grieves the loss of his wife and realizes that his son has been doing vigilantism as a hobby. It is unclear exactly how good of a parent Jack was before the incident, but the results of Tim's involvement with the Robin mantle has definitely made things worse between father and son. Jack will also die within quick succession of 2 of Tim's best friends, his girlfriend, and his other father. He will also effectively lose like 1/2 his loved ones in the fallout of all of that mess including: his older brother, his other friends (both civilian and superhero), and the stepmother with whom he shared what I would argue is his best parent-child relationship (Dana also may have died, but it's left unclear). He has stopped pursuing higher education (the moment he even applied for college he 'died', and it seems he hasn't made another attempt since) and if he wasn’t a major focus of the media before he sure is now. He tries to quit briefly (in fact he initially was planning on quitting once someone more suited came along) and cannot bring himself to do so. Even when he does manage to get away for a while, his superhero life impacts the pre-robin life he is trying to go back to. Leaving is an impossibility, this is all there is for him now. He also isn’t allowed to make mistakes anymore, not when lives hang in the balance. The one who enforces that impossible standard the most (besides Bruce depending on who's writing) is himself. He’s got TRAUMA now and people want to hurt him constantly. He is constantly questioning his own sanity and morality and place in the world. He almost dies like every month. Tim grows colder and less grounded, he is becoming both a better and a worse version of himself at the same time. He’s saving lives in the same few issues as he’s setting up a Saw movie plot for the man who killed his father. He is haunted by the ghosts of his past and the looming figure of his future. His life becomes SO MUCH FUCKING WORSE after he becomes Robin. Some of it is the fault of others, some is the fault of circumstance, and some of it is due to his own actions. But basically all of Tim's worst traumas and life-changing moments are either tied to or caused by Robin. Dick's parents would still be dead, Jason would still be living on the streets, Stephanie would still have Arthur Brown for a father and a lot of other things that deserve their own posts/IDK if they've been retconned, and Damian would still have been raised in the eco-cult where death is a constant. Those are life circumstances that occur without the involvement of Robin, the only one who even needs Bruce involved at all in their series of events is Damian. But Tim? All of what is considered his 'worst' moments occur after he assumes the role.
This idea is what I find the coolest and most fascinating about Tim as a character. Being a hero is usually portrayed as either an outright awesome thing or a righteous duty that one must fulfill or (maybe in a grimmer and/or more grounded story) a sacrifice to your interpersonal relationships/mental health that is made for the greater good. For Tim, being a superhero actively ruined his life (both because of the general circumstances surrounding being a kid vigilante and the choices he made as part of that role). It's never portrayed that way in canon because we need to come out of issues going 'wow being a superhero is so cool! I'm gonna buy the next issue!', but when you just look at Tim's life literally everything really bad that we know of occurred after he became Robin.
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dance-to-mythoughts-blog · 2 years ago
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Pro-hero Katsuki Bakugo x Pro-hero Black fem reader
Happy New Year Everyone! I hope everyone has a wonderful day and they enjoy themselves. I decided since I posted my first work earlier today why not provide a second one.
Synopsis: What happens when you fight fire with fire? You and Katsuki are the epitome of hatred. But when you are tired of his shit, what happens when fire meets fire?
Warnings: Dick in pussy, degrading, slight use of quirk play, nipple play, and swallowing, office sex, hate sex, nutting on ass, use of the word daddy ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!
"Goddammit Katsuki! You always have to come and fuck up some shit dude! I told u I fucking had it! Now this bitch got away!" you screamed at the top of your lungs because again, Katsuki decided he wanted to take your shine away and paint you as a damsel in distress. You work for the top hero just like he does and can do the exact same things that he can but better!
"You sure about that brat?! Cause from the looks of it, you were about to get crushed like a fucking pancake until I saved your crying ass. So how about a little less bitching and a little more thanking since I saved you life!"
"You didn't save shit! I fucking had it. Now because you did that stupid shit dude got away. Not only did dude get away but you let that bitch Mirko get him and bring him to justice! MIRKO KATSUKI!!! OF all fucking heroes you let that nigga slip into her hands to bring him to justice."
You HATED THAT BITCH MIRKO. Since you guys were elementary-aged kids' you guys always had this fucking rivalry. Deep down you knew she was always better than you and you hated to admit that. And the fact that you guys had been going at it since yall were fucking kids and today was another mark on her Talley chart you were fucking heated! I mean heated so bad that the center of the earth would be damn cold because you were so fucking pissed of at him. You guys fought all the way back to the damn agency. Everyone knows you and Katsuki and oil and water but when you guys work together with your quirks, you guys are fucking unstoppable, which is why when the number one hero, Hawks added you guys on after graduation you were honored. There was so much paperwork that had to be filled out because you and Katsuki both had injuries and made kind of a big mess. It was late when people started dwindling out of the office when one of your mentors, Hellcat, stopped by your desk.
"Working late again sugar plum? You know it's not good to work all the damn time"
Taking in a deep heavy sigh " I know Auntie. But this work has to be done and I'm trying to take my mind off what happened earlier. I can't believe he did that goofy ass shit and let dude get away."
"You know baby, in watching the fight back again, he was actually right to defend you"
You looked at her surprised because you couldn't believe what she just said. She said that Bakugo had the right to defend you. That's fucking horse shit. "What!? Auntie that's crazy. Mans is self-centered and always wants to take my shine away. He's done it before so why is this time any different?"
"Well, that's part of being a hero. Accepting your flaws. Now I know both of you are fire. I went back to look at the fight and from the outside looking in, he did save you. You were about to take a huge hit that could've possibly killed you but you didn't because he did what he did. Sure, both of you came out bruised and a few buildings destroyed but if he hadn't, we would be planning a funeral right now for you. See you in the AM"
With that she left and really left you wondering why he decided to save your life. To think since you started working here 7 months ago and have been arguing with this man consistently and now he saved your life? Thats crazy. So, you decided to get on YouTube to see what Auntie was talking about. You typed i your hero name and the most recent fight popped up.
Dynamite saves hero name again. In reading the caption and the comments people were clowning you. They were saying how you should have not decided to be a hero but you should have done something else. It hurt. To see the people that you wanted to protect say such nasty cruel things about you hurt. You swallowed your pride and went to Bakugo's office. Upon nearing his office you could faintly hear him typing away on the computer. You knocked on the door.
"What?" Damn. This man is mean and doesn't have any fucking manners to just be saying what to people who want to talk.
"It's Y/N. Can I come in?"
"I don't fucking care". With that being said you opened the door and spoke to him. He mumbled something but you weren't able to hear what it was. He was focused on whatever the fuck he was doing on his fucking computer. Man didn't even look up once. You took the time to really study his features. Man was not ugly. He had a nice jawline, beautiful intense red eyes, and an undercut that you could see with the way he was angling his head. T-shirt that was tight enough to show his muscles, grey sweats that kind of hung low and some nike slides. He must've just taken a shower because he looks so good and looks like he is determined to finish whatever shit that he has going on.
"Thank you"
He looked up and cocked his eyebrow like he was confused.
"For?"
"Saving me. I went back and rewatched the fight with the villain earlier and I see how you came in and saved me. I appreciate it. If you had not done what you did I would completely be dead as fuck. Maybe you could help me train, considering those comments on YouTube about me are fucking nasty"
"What comments?" You went over to his desk to pull up YouTube. You pulled up the video, played it for him and showed him exactly what they were saying about you.
"Dynamite saves H/N. She sucks. He's going to be a fire ass pro hero. Sis is gone be like Daphne on Scooby Doo, the damsel in distress. Dynamite is fine as fuck. H/N is cute but her getting caught a lot makes her kind of dumb. H/N gradated at the top of her class at UA? More like on top of the monkey bars at the park because she's childish. " Hearing him read those comments out loud hurt a lot more when its read out loud than read silently. He could tell you're unconfortable so he decided to help.
"Oi.. you not trash. But you could be better. We jut have to work on your defense. Thats all. But you could stop getting your ass kicked every now and again "
"Well thanks. I still fucking hate you tho. But seriously. I am not a fucking damsel in distress. Sometimes I can take care of myself but what you did today was needed. "
"How are you going to tell me thank you then proceed to be a brat in the fucking process?"
"How are you going to be an asshole while I'm thanking you for saving my life? I bet you liked reading those fucking negative comments about me didn't you?"
He gave me a little smirk "I mean.. in a way they weren't wrong" God you felt so fucking offended. You were trying to thank him for saving your life and he round here playing like he ain't got no fucking common sense.
"Whatever. fuck you nigga" As you started to walk out, he grabbed your wrist. You looked at this man like he lost his fucking marbles. "what the fuck is you doing?! Let my wrist go ass"
"Oi..stop being such a fucking crybaby. You signed up for the wrong profession if you gone let some random motherfuckers make u cry like a baby"
"Are you serious? That shit they said is fucking rude and disrespectful. Not only that nobody likes your punk ass either. They to busy gawking over how big your dick is, if you have one, and how cute you are. They dont like yo bitch ass"
"WOW. Who said I dont have a big dick? If you wanna see it all you have to do is ask princess" he said smugly while he had a smirk on his face that made him look like a fucking god.
The name princess just kinda made you feels some kind of way. It made your cheeks blush red as a rose and your pussy started to get a heartbeat.
" For your information, I think your genitals are smooth like Barbie Ken because you act like a bitch and can't do anything right! Second of all, don't fucking call me princess. Third, fuck you. I'm officially leaving. You can try and find another partner who can put up with yo shit. Nigga im out."
The way he looked at you like you just pissed him off with that comment about barbie Ken.
"What the fuck did u say about my dick brat?"
You scoffed with a smirk "Hoe I said that you act like a bitch and you are so bitch made that you don't have a dick. You don't have anything down there where ya dick should be because you are a bitch. B.I.T.C.H" As you spelled out bitch and pointed to his face and pushed his chest with your pointer finger when you spelled out bitch. And boy oh boy did that piss him off beyond fucking repair. It happened so fucking fast that you didn't even see it coming. He stepped close to you and grabbed your throat and pushed you onto his desk, grabbed your throat to make you look at him and he looked deep into your eyes.
"You are such a fucking brat and I hate it. Like I said crybaby if you cant handle rejection and people talking crazy, then you need to pick a different profession. Stop doing that shit man. Fucking ridiculous. If you wanted to personally see my dick, then you could've just asked but no you have to go be a brat."
The whole time he was yelling at you, you couldn't help but think of all the nasty freak shit you wanted him to do to you. He just manhandled you in his office you're soaking wet like Niagra Falls. He leaned into your ear and said something that shook you to the core.
"Since you wanna know about my dick so bad princess, why don't I give it to you?" he said as he slightly bit the lobe of your ear and also dropped his voice deeper than normal. You don't know what came over you but you turned completely submissive. To let him have whatever he wants with you.
"Fuck. You can do what you want Katsuki. I don't care. you have permission to break me like an egg."
"Good girl" and he picked u up and pushed you onto the table. Spreading your legs so he had enough access to feel your core throbbing and being soaking wet for him. He kissed you passionately. His lips were soft and warm. His kiss was fierce with passion but gentle. He licked the bottom of your lip to gain access to your mouth. The make-out session became heated as he was grouping you and kissing dow your jawline and then moved to your neck.
"You so fucking sexy. You know that?" he whispered to me while he was starting to unbutton my shirt. The way my hero costume is you have to unbutton it from the front. We're working on a new costume anyway. He unbuttoned the top half of my uniform to reveal my bra that had the girls sitting up there like I had surgery.
"Fuck these titties are pretty. When was the last time you had someone suck on em?" he asked as he popped a pretty pierced brown nipple into his mouth. You moaned at the feeling because it had been a minute since you'd had a mans touch. Honestly, you hadn't had any action since you stopped dealing with Denki.
"Fuck.. I-shit.. it's been a minute. God that feels good." He took that as a cue to pop the other nipple in his mouth and kneed your tit like he was making biscuits. It felt so fucking good. Here you are, being submissive to Katsuki Bakugo, AKA, Dynamite because he was making you feel good as fuck and also about to possibly fuck you senseless into the new year.
"You got me all hard and shit. Look" He pulled back so you could see his hard-on through his sweats. And he looked fucking massive. "You did this shit and now you're gonna fix it. Get on your knees princess."
You did as told and got on your knees. He whipped his dick out and it was so impressive that it had you speechless. It was pretty. It was long and thick with a massive vein on the topside of the shaft. Very suckable. You immediately got to fucking work. You used two hands to hone into the dick and suck it like your life depended on it.
"Fuck... Like that princess. Spit on it baby" You spit on it. Made sure to go all the way up to his tip and suck antagonizing slowly. "If you keep that up im coming... Shit." with that he nutted in your mouth. You swallowed all of it like a good girl and decided to keep sucking after he came. You spit his cum back on his dick and slurped some more and made him come again. You didn't even need prepping with how big his dick was.
"Hurry up and fuck me please." you whined. Man oh man was he taking his sweet everlasting time with you. He grabbed you by your throat and provided a super sloppy kiss to you and then started to pull the pants down from your hero suit. Soon as he did, it was a large wet spot. Clearly you were soaked by being manhandled.
" Damn princess. You're soaked and I haven't fucked you yet" You let out a loud whine because you were tired of being teased. He teases you all fucking day for 7 months to be teased again while attempting to get fucked. He didn't even need to prep you because you sucking his dick and picturing his face while he put his hot cum down your throat was amazing. Made your pussy wet like fucking Niagra Falls. He turned you around so you were facing the back of his office with your ass facing him. He gave your ass a nice smack.
"Smack it again" He smacked it again and again. "Babe smack it again with your quirk activated" He looked at you with a mischievous grin. "You sure about that princess. Might be a little much for you to handle."
"Dammit I-" before you could even attempt to complain you heard little pops coming from his palm. Before you knew it, he activated his quirk and smacked your ass. "Fuck...do it again baby" He smacked your ass with his quirk activated a few more times before he stopped and placed a kiss to the red ass cheek. He finally put the tip to your entrance. You started throbbing before he could even do anything.
"look at you. being so fucking needy for me" he finally stuck the tip of the dick in and it felt fucking amazing. "Damn princess. Didn't realize you would be this tight" He bottomed out and started moving hella slow.
"katsuki.. please move" he let out a chuckle. "since you said please. your wish is my command." He started to really fuck you. And I mean fuck you! The man was rearranging guts that you didn't know you fucking had. You were rocking forwards so hard from him thrusting into you that you damn near knocked his computer over.
"Yes... Fuck..Ohh" you damn near screamed because he was fucking you so good. Fucking you better than Denki ever could. "Thats it. Right there."
"right here?" he asked as he sped up his pace and smacked your ass and activated his quirk. "you nasty slut. you like taking this big dick huh?"
you could barely talk and managed to squeak out a "yes daddy" as he fucked you into oblivion.
"this is for calling me a cunt when they first partnered us together." smack to the ass. Every time he smacked your ass he knew you like when he activated his quirk. "This is for talking about my dick" smack. "this is for letting the sled monster go" smack. This next smack was lethal and had you on the brink of coming everywhere. "this is for almost getting yourself killed earlier today and being a brat about it."
"ohh shit, I'm sorry! fff-fuck you feel so damn good baby" you cried out. "its to much baby...I can't" you wailed out. It hurt but it felt so fucking good. He was putting you on cloud 9 and scrambling your eggs to oblivion.
"take it baby" was all he said before he out one leg on the desk and started to really plow into your pussy. "fuck.. Im coming, im coming, im coming!" you cried out.
"Do it. Come all over my fingers princess. Make a mess for me." with that you had the biggest orgasm of your life! "pull out and cum on my ass daddy!" he pulled out and came all over your plumb brown ass cheeks. Best dick of your life! You also didn't fake it. You let him hit and he gave you a fucking orgasm that has you on cloud 9. Both of you breathing heavily you took the opportunity to look at him.
"What?"
"You are so fucking fine but such an ass. I can't believe you got good dick and you just scrambled my eggs like that" you laughed. He laughed too and just smirked. "I fucked the great Dynamite, AKA Katsuki Bakugo."
"well if you like it.. how about we do it more? I'll pick you up this weekend and we can go out so you can get some more. If you act like a brat you wont get shit."
You pondered about it for a second. "What if I want to act like a brat? Will my punishment be you fucking me to the oblivion again?"
"Only one way to find out princess," he smirked at you. "Be ready because when I come get you we going to eat."
"Fine" you planted a small kiss on his lips and sat on the desk while he went back to doing what the fuck he was doing on the computer.
@fantasydaydreamers @dabisqueen This is the second oneshot I wrote. I hope you enjoy. Wanted to tag yall that's all lol
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televisionlassie · 1 year ago
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The reason I find Jason to be boring is because people are so scared to hold him accountable. You can’t claim to like anti-hero’s or claim that Jason is an anti-hero if you’re going to excuse everything that makes him an ANTI-hero.
There is no doubt in my mind that I would like him a whole lot more if people accepted him as a character that does bad things. I understand he has trauma and his own reasons but trauma is only an explanation, not an excuse. While I like consuming content of the batfamily being a family, when it’s not based in pretty much an entirely different universe it doesn’t make any sense.
Pretty much all of the batfamily (except Bruce because he’s can actually be pretty awful to Jason) has reasons to hate or be mad at Jason.
Jason went out in a Nightwing outfit and killed people to try and ruin Dick’s image, and all the shit he’s done to Dicks other siblings. You really think Dick would just be cool with the fact that Jason beat one of his little brothers and shot another one?
Cass has a moral code probably stricter than Batman, she would HATE Jason for killing. And again same thing with the siblings.
Tim I just don’t understand why he would ever forgive Jason. Jason beat the absolute shit out of him, plus you gotta admit that guy is too much of a cocky bitch to ever just forgive and forget
Unfortunately I can’t say much about Steph as I can’t think of a single time where they actually interacted in canon. But I don’t think she would be too fond of the guy who beat up her best friend and shot Damian.
Duke I think has had one personal interaction with Jason and while it wasn’t too friendly I don’t think he would hold that big of a grudge.
Damian I think would be more understanding but it’s hard to forget how he was shot by Jason and had to have his SPINE replaced because of Jason.
I’m not trying to hate on Jason, he honestly makes me sad because he is filled with wasted potential. It’s not even that they never make him do bad things, it’s that there’s never any lasting consequences.
Many times when I see people who hate on Jason they bring in the death penalty argument, which as much as I hate and believe is stupid, still has some tiny bit of validity. The reason it sucks is because the world of DC comics is not even remotely similar to our real life. Criminals in real life don’t have plant powers or convoluted plans to distribute their weird ass poisonous gas. If they did, they wouldn’t even spend a night in jail because they would be shot on the spot. If Jason did just kill these types of criminals, then he would not be considered an anti-hero, just a hero. But that’s the thing, Jason doesn’t just kill the Joker, or the Riddler or any of the Rogues, he kills the type of criminals we would see in our real lives. THAT is where the validity lies in that argument, it’s not just that Jason is killing supervillains but that he is killing the type of people that we are fighting against the death penalty for. Obviously this argument means nothing to you if you are pro-death penalty but I just wanted to explain.
Jason would be so interesting if he was treated like the character he is supposed to be. A young traumatized person who does bad things for the right reasons but still has to face the consequences.
And if people really want to give him a character arc where he eventually stops killing, it shouldn’t just be he gets tried of killing or tired of arguing with Bruce, but that he sees how his way of crime-fighting can do more harm than good.
It’s just so frustrating to see how people just act accept anti-heros for what they are. It like people are so scared of making or admitting a character to be immoral, that they just erase the consequences of their bad actions to make it excusable.
Anyways, thank you for coming to my rant, Jason Todd fans this wasn’t me hating on your babygirl, I’m trying to help you.
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gigi-the-writer · 1 year ago
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Ooo can I make a request? Ik there’s the whole hero x villain trope but I raise you: villain x Just Some Dude.
The vibe no matter which character is very much “we have GOT to stop meeting like this”. Imagine you’re just trying to work as an Uber driver part time and you pick up Demencia only to end up in a high speed chase (a little like that scene in Deadpool where all this shit is going on and the poor driver is just like “yea aight this is normal”.) She’s arguing with Flug in the backseat bc the Hatship needs repairs and god this is the worst Home Depot trip ever-
Or she frequents your family’s restaurant so often you know her order by heart, always having it ready for pickup. Studying for exams when you get a phone call asking if you can pick her up from jail “because the nerd said I had to stay and learn a lesson”. She’s the type that just drops into your dorm window the night before a big exam like “you should just ditch lol come play mailbox baseball with me”
On the other hand, Flug with a civilian s/o is simultaneously relaxing and worrisome to him. Like yes he can get an escape from the stress of work and all, but if you’re seen with him it’s dangerous. But you’re so sweet to his son, maybe you’re a teacher or daycare worker or really just anyone who works with kids, and a major sweetheart. Or you run a bakery or diner he loves going to (my moms hometown has an airplane themed one that serves the absolute best breakfasts so def got some inspiration there lol)
Often finds himself sneaking out to see you on down days, but unlike Demencia he tries to keep you his little secret. Will help you with your lab report if you ask.
There’s just
so many options for civilian s/o, and they can be fluffy or angsty. That’s the beauty of it. I’d love to hear your interpretations/headcanons!
Flug and Demencia x a civilian reader
FLUG:
Yes, I agree that Flug finds it both relaxing and worrisome. Though it’d be easier to hide his relationship from BlackHat, if you live on the island it’d be harder since BlackHat has eyes everywhere in that place.
If you live somewhere like Atreno, he’ll visit, but only when he’s on missions, or on breaks (when he saves up enough). I doubt BlackHat would let him leave the island to take a few days off even if he did save up enough for that much time.
He does often bring 5.0.5 with him because there’s no way he’s leaving him alone with either BlackHat or Demencia. 5.0.5 feels..safer with you honestly.
Flug may hide the fact that he’s a villain from you, depending on how you are around the news concerning villains and heroes. He just wants to play it safe.
DEMENCIA:
She’s actually less into something like that than you may think. She fell for BlackHat because of his evil and twisted nature, so I can’t see her really falling for some random civilian unless it’s a rare case of ‘genuinely likes them because of how they act towards HER’.
Demencia kind of knows BlackHat doesn’t love her, but she makes it seem like she can change that. She doesn’t get much understanding and comfort when she has any outbursts or powerful emotions. She doesn’t understand them but uses her fists to cope when ‘needed’. Having someone there for her telling her ‘it’s okay to cry’ and ‘it’s okay to be angry’ and such makes her view that person in a much more appreciated manner.
Both of them having a taste of someone/something peaceful outside of the chaos and havoc that is their daily lives is good for them. They desperately need it.
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howlsofbloodhounds · 10 months ago
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I had an idea that maybe almost every trio in one way or another belongs to a certain type.
For example, Star Sanses are heroes, but let's ignore the fact that Ink is not really a hero without emotional colors. But despite this, all three have a lot of positive things, and there is hardly anything bad about them. (And also because Fresh is watching them, lol)
Epic Sanses are more likely antiheroes for the most part. Because everyone has something but from the negative traits, like Delta, has more murderous intentions towards those who somehow harm others. Epic and Color deal with mass murderers, which is not the best thing about heroes, despite their re-education and their attempts, and Color also has some problems with sociality.
on the other hand, there is a Murder Time Trio, who, if made independent of Nightmare, as villains, they fit (but the big villains are the alliance of Error and Nightmare)
and only Cross remains, who, in my opinion, is an anti-villain, despite everything he has done, there is something positive in him.
of course, there are many conventions here, but I think it fits everyone described, and what do you think about this?
Im a little stupid and never heard the word sociality before so I had to google around a bit lmao.
And yeah I guess this could make sense. Ink is definitely a morally grey character, although they can’t be a “hero” without their colors simply cause it’d make em into an unmoving husk, I’m pretty sure. And if I remember correctly, while in that state, others could finds ways to take control of ink—meaning his body can be used against him for things he doesn’t want or agree with.
But yeah it’s to my understanding that ink has their motivations for a lot of things they do involving aus and creators. they arguably do good things by protecting aus and encouraging/supporting creators to create.
but it can also be argued that they’re doing it for selfish reasons because they need that stuff to survive, or it can be brought up how ink views people as characters in a story (and potentially doesn’t view himself as one though? ive heard around that ink views himself as different from other characters even though he isn’t), and doesn’t interfere with creator’s scripts and stories. regardless of whatever the story contains.
I suppose it’s just a matter of “if this person does good things, does the reason why they do good things matter?”
But yeah I agree with this mostly. I had to look up the definition of an anti-villain but it seemed to fit with cross. (Im not a cross expert 😔)
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cascade05 · 2 years ago
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Guys Deserve Flowers Too
Saw this post and it got me thinking

Imagine see a handful of flowers that remind you of Katsuki. Imagine what they are but I was thinking of, well, Imma just collage it cause I don’t know how familiar with flowers y’all are

On second thought, the picture is giant so I’ll put it
. so where else, maybe

Anyway, you see these flowers and the kinda look like explosions and the flower lady tells you they (Dahlias) are stubborn flowers and they’re tough to kill so it literally is Bakugo Katsuki/Pro Hero Dynamight and now you HAVE to get them. So you do and you get a few others you think will look good.
Carnations last a long time when they’re cut, not withering as fast as other flowers.
Lantanas are cute little bundles of petals and the orange and red ones are so purty

Course, you want some green in the bright conglomeration of bursting colors so you go with some leather leaf fern cause they’re big and refreshing.
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You leave the shop with two bags of flowers and you’re beaming about them. The excitement kinda plateaus when you get home and realize you don’t have a vase big enough. You’re shocked by that fact because Katsuki’s bough GIANT bouquets for you before. You look everywhere and cannot find a vase.
Then you see one of the decorative jar things—ya know what I mean, right? It was black clay and you never understood why people would get something like that and just eat it sit unused. It just collected dust on a shelf full of other things that collected dust so it’s existence was an annoyance to you but Mitsuki bought it as a housewarming gift so

Anyway, you used that. It was about time it pulled its own weight anyway, even if your husband would think you’re an idiot for using a decorative like that as a vase. You would argue that vases were a type of decorative and they were meant to be used but that didn’t matter.
What matters is you and the amazing bouquet just finished. Yaaasss! It’s beautiful, no doubt, because it made with l o v e. A fact you will rub in your snooty husband’s gorgeous face if he dares to make fun of you because that’s who we are, right?! Right.
He comes come and you greet him from her spot on the couch. He kisses your head as he walks by, mumbling a greeting of his own before he hops in the shower. You continue reading or doing whatever it is you like to do.
At some point in life, he notices the giant bouquet on the kitchen island and he stops. He didn’t buy those. The man narrows his eyes in thought, mentally going through all the important dates before deciding it wasn’t an important day today. Unless something happened that he didn’t know about. The man decided to probe.
“You got flowers,” he grumbled stupidly.
“Uh-huh,” you hummed absentmindedly, not giving him anything.
“Look nice.”
“Thanks.”
You looked at his back, giggling silently to yourself before looking blankly at your book when he turned around. You could see the confused look on his face out of the corner of you eye and it took everything you had not to burst into laughter.
“You get ‘em from that shop by the bakery?”
“No. They’re from a new place that opened up—by where the farmers market is. It’s a cute little shop.”
He stares silently at you before looking back at the flowers then back at you. You could hear the frustration on his face. He would cave in eventually. Bakugo Katsuki hated admitting he didn’t know something important and if he forgot an important date then it was worse. He wouldn’t ask, but, well, he couldn’t think of a single special occasion that happened today. So, he had to ask.
“Any reason for ‘em?”
You hummed softly, kicking your foot up and down before turning a page. You weren’t really reading but, well
“For you.”
Did he really forget something? But you didn’t usually buy him flowers except on his birthday and, even then, it was always simple and never this large. “Why?” he asked.
“Cause I kinda like you, that’s why.”
He made a face and you laughed at it, getting up from the couch to cup his pouty cheeks. He gently grabbed your hips, tugging you a little close as you look up at him with a soft smile. “They reminded me of you, that’s all,” you say, smiling growing when his ears turn a soft pink.
He doesn’t understand that sort of thing—how flowers could remind you of him. You know he doesn’t, so you explain it. As you speak, your hands move and your arms end up resting on his shoulders as you fiddle with your fingers behind his head. You feel like a schoolgirl with a big fat crush when he wraps his arms around you and gently sways, his red eyes lighting up the more you talk. It embarrassing and you feel like you’re on fire, but you wouldn’t mind burning if it was for him. Not like he’d let you burn. It makes you nervous and shy but you explain it anyway because he’s worth being shy for.
You tell him how stubborn he is and how resilient. How determined and strong he is.
You tell him how his touch lingers on your mind endlessly, how you live for the way you can feel him—can see him in the world around you even when he’s not there.
He snorts softly when you tell him how beautiful he is—how pretty his eyes are—and you puff out your cheek in response, pouting at his lack of faith. You ask him if he doesn’t trust you or if he never looks in the mirror and he mumbles that he trusts you more than anyone else in the world. So you tell him again, that he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever met. That the small moments you share with him make you fell close to bursting because you love him so much and you know he loves you too.
You tell him you love how he fits against you—how you fit against him. How safe you feel in his large arms and how protected you feel just by seeing him. You tell him that, after a long day, all you need is one hug and you feel so refreshed and loved.
It mushy and soft and lovey-dovey but you tell him all that anyway. You’re too embarrassed to look at him and he must share the same sentiment cause he buries his face in the crook of your neck, planting a few small kisses by your shoulder. You shyly press your face into your other shoulder, biting your bottom lip as your cheeks burn.
“Do you like them?” you whisper softly, gently fiddling with his hair.
He doesn’t respond, not for awhile. He seeks refuge in your arms—in the safety of your love and you let him. You’re more than happy to. Eventually he mumbles against you. You can’t hear him. You don’t really need to. You know what he said—what he meant. It makes you smile, makes you press his head further into you as you wrap an arm around his shoulder and hug him close. It’s the same feeling driving Katsuki to press his palm against your back and press you even further into himself. His other hand fiddles with your belt loop while he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“You’re an idiot,” he finally says and you snort.
“Whatever, dummy.”
“I should be buying you flowers, dumbass” he mumbles.
You know how grateful he is and you know that he treasures everything you said. You know he only said what he did because he thinks he has to work to deserve you and you know that, even if you told him no. It was you who was undeserving, he would never believe you.
He appreciates your words, you know he does, but he’s an actions kind of man and everything will always mean more to him if he sees your love. You know he sees it which is why he’s so shy all of a sudden. You’re feeling a bit coy yourself and bite your bottom lip, puffing out your cheeks as you do and you can feel the tips of your ears tingling.
“Yeah, well, guys deserve flowers too,” you breathe, “idiot.”
He snorts softly, kicking your shin lightly. “Idiot,” he parrots and you burry your smile in his hair.
It wasn’t until later in the week when Bakugo noticed the black paint on the substitute vase was running off due to the water and, well, you both had a great time trying to find that exact clay decorative in the store. It was a bonding experience, you told him. He called you an idiot but that was no surprise.
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@shotorus
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asktheevilgeniusesson · 3 days ago
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[Conflict prompts but make it long ig lmfao]
The assassin got in the building again. This time, instead of being brought in by a certain jackal, or sneaking and bribing his way in, he was very very obvious. Gone was the previous borderline prankster with green eyes mirroring another, replaced instead by a man on a mission with intent to kill. There will be no mercy this time. No quarter will be given. He found out what happened.
He got past the bots, destroying those that had no signs of true life. The little robotic hedgehog with a soundboard was spared, as were the other robots like him. Defensive measures were taken against them, deflecting and redirecting and dodging. They're not his target, but products of him. Victims all the same in The Ronin's eyes. They'll be spared, until he's given a good enough reason to destroy them.
Finally, after traversing the maze of a base, The Ronin finds his target. There's no odd references, no cocky glint in those green eyes that mirrors another man native to this world. There's no smirk under that mask. There's no hesitation and no fear as he draws his blades from their sheathes on his hip, the clean sound breaking the silence. He stares- outright glares. If looks could kill, the doctor would be dead on the spot. If The Ronin's eyes were red with that look in them, he may have drawn a comparison to another native of this world.
"You're pathetic." It's bitter, cold, disgusted, angered. The mutant readies himself, power clear in his movements as he settles with practiced ease into a battle stance. "I know what you did. It's time you do us all a favor and just die."
-an extremely pissed off turtle veiledmercenary
The tall old man turns himself in his chair to face the annoyingly familiar face of the annoyance thats been a pain in his side ever since that jackal of his tried to kill him. Ugh. Him again
 he could easily tell the ronin wasnt playing anymore, but did he show a hint of fear?
Fuck no.
Infact. Something more twisted. A sickeningly twisted smile spreads across the mans face with a snicker and laugh. The ronin had sort of cornered himself, in a sense. With the bots he’d spared surrounding the only exit to the room, ready to pounce at his command. Leaning back in the chair, the old man spoke.
“Ah. Finally. Took you long enough, i was starting to wonder if that dog actually was turning to cheat on me or if it was just getting you close enough to kill you.” Note how he doesn’t even refer to infinite as a ‘he.’ To ivo, that jackals nothing but a possession. Something with no autonomy or personality. “I told it not tell. People seem to get really freaked out when they find out. I never understood what the big deal was. I mean, i’m not hurting anyone else. It works for me. It’s basically my slave—“ a pause of dark chuckles. “It’s really none of your damn business. But ofcourse, you hero types love to act high and mighty. Ever notice how it never complained? It’s plenty happy being used the way i use it. You seem to be just
 alittle sensitive. And attached. Love kills, boy.” Hes not even caring about the fact the ronin wants him dead. That wicked evil grin, the relaxed lean, everything reads careless and remorseless.
“And let’s not even argue the fact you stole my pet from me. Thats not very nice. I didn’t do much of anything to you, yknow.” Rolling his eyes as he slowly gets up, sitting upwards with a grunt. “And now that you’ve admitted that.. im going to have to do something with you. Either, hm. Robotizing you could be beneficial.. but killing you seems more fun. And a fitting punishment for brainwashing that dog.”
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