#inbox :)

[fatliberation]

as someone who suffers from disordered eating (restrictive) and has done very questionable things to avoid hunger due to wanting to lose weight, how do you think people whose minds are wonky should go about dismantling the fear/gut reaction to fat bodies, I feel like a horrible person when I see someone fat and all I feel is a genuine fear of their bodies, I'm fine in the sense where I don't restrict nor do I feel the urge too, but I just feel like a bad person for not being able to see the beauty in fat people.

honestly? I don’t feel like answering this because your motivation to do better is coming from a place of guilt rather than any genuine care about fat people and how we are treated. this ask is similar to the last one I posted (although it’s about a week older). it reeks of entitlement. I’m not here to hold your hand because you feel guilty about your fatphobia. if you want to do better, you can figure it out without telling a fat person that you hate their body.

[infamous-if]

what even is considered a better singer though? i think that’s one of the things people forget, too. i find that artists all just have different styles catering to people with different tastes. but objectively, do you mean that mc is better in terms of technicalities (breathing technique, head voice, all that) which is why they’re “superior”? every character says mc is the greatest thing since sliced bread, and I’ve always thought they just had a very majestic voice.

yes you're very right! vocal color makes it subjective and i like to think seven has a great vocal tone especially for the genre that they're in and they're very good at emoting but MC also has a great vocal tone and is emotive COMPOUNDED with better technique (better breath control, more flexibility, dictation, and range) makes MC the better technical singer

when it comes to vocal color its subjective, some singers can be amazing but have a vocal tone thats not very pleasant to the ears but MC simply has better technique.

every character says mc is the greatest thing since sliced bread, and I’ve always thought they just had a very majestic voice

this part is kinda funny cuz half of the people in the community think every character hates mc and thinks mc sucks while the other half thinks this so lscmsjcsjjs

[qwiopty]

How about Shadow making up with Cosmo and Tails?

we live and we learn amiright!!!!

trying to catch up on this inbox backlog LOL...

[sanguineterrain]

Idk if you know that scene from friends where Rachel kisses Ross while they're in the laundromat and Ross hits his head on the washer door afterward 😭🩷 it makes me giggle sm. Anyway thinking about that kind of kiss with Spencer. Genius left speechless!

very cute prompt thank u! gn!reader. your kiss surprises spencer—his kiss back knocks the wind out of you.

****

This is an impossible case.

You throw down your files in frustration and rub your temples. "I'm gonna quit and join the circus. I suck at this."

"Hm?" Spencer looks up from his computer. It's just the two of you staying late. The cleaning people have already come and gone. You're both working on a case that's stumped the team for three days.

You're here because you're new and, yes, you need to prove yourself. Spencer's here because... well, you're not actually quite sure why he's here late. He doesn't usually stay. But he'd offered when you said you were going to. His company is certainly welcome.

"This is fucking impossible. I've gone over these lists three times. There's no pattern, no commonalities, nothing! I'm such an idiot."

"You're not an idiot," Spencer says, getting up and joining you at your desk. He pushes some papers aside and sits on the corner. "Can I see?"

His long fingers brush yours as you pass him the lists. Gloomily, you scratch at your notepad with your pencil.

"Why are you trying so hard on this case?" he asks, fingers tracing the paper as he reads.

"Because I know you guys don't really need me here and I wanna prove that I'm valuable."

Spencer stops reading. "You are valuable."

"You're sweet, Spence."

"No, you are. You're smart. More brains are always better when it comes to this job."

"I think you've got enough brains for all of us," you say, half-smiling.

"Everyone provides skills that I don't. That's why we're a team."

You hum, pushing your pencil around. "Yeah, sure."

"We can figure this out," he says. "Let's think. Okay, no connections with the names or the ages. Gender and race is random. Did you check the locations of their deaths?"

You nod. "Did. No shapes, no nothing. Garcia ran every algorithm she has."

"There's sixty-three names on here. When did these murders start?"

"About nine weeks ago. But not everyone on this list was murdered. Some of them have been long dead. That's what's so confusing," you say. "The police think the killer will round back and kill the rest, but I don't think so."

"I don't either. Which people were killed?"

You circle them in red. Spencer stares at them.

"That's every sixth name. Maybe groups of seven are the key." He points at the second name on the list. "He's a reverend, right?"

You nod. "Yeah, more than one name on here is."

Spencer drums his fingers. "Circle those."

You do. Suddenly, you're struck by something.

"What is it?" Spencer asks as your fingers fly across the keyboard.

"Solomon Grundy."

Spencer leaps off the desk, immediately understanding and just as excited as you. He kneels beside your desk chair and starts highlighting and circling names in different colored pens. Heat emanates from his body, he's so close. You swallow and try not to think about it.

"Reverends Christened on a Tuesday," he says.

"Every third person was married on a Wednesday," you say. "The unsub is following the rhyme!"

You turn to him, mirroring his joy. "We did it!"

"I told you you'd figure it out," Spencer says triumphantly.

"Are you kidding? You brought up the numerical patterns."

Spencer grins at you. "I wasn't even thinking Solomon Grundy! You're the genius, not me."

You roll your eyes. "Aren't you past modesty, Doc?"

"Aren't you?" he shoots back, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. "You're brilliant."

And something about the rush of solving the puzzle, and the way Spencer's smiling at you, open and happy and proud, it makes you impulsive. You see his round, dark eyes, his fluffy curls, and the way his cheek crinkles from his smile, and you do it. You lean in.

Your hands go to his face for a moment, just enough to steady him as you kiss him. You kiss for two seconds, your touch like a breath on his skin. Spencer tastes like the cherry Chapstick you bought him last week.

He shoots up and away, lips parted, eyes wide. You panic.

"I'm so sorry, I don't know why I did that—" you begin.

"You, um, you just—okay—"

He turns the wrong way and bumps bodily into the side of your desk. You wince as his thigh crashes into the wood.

"Spencer! Jesus, are you okay?" you ask, beginning to stand.

"Uh-hm," he squeaks out, voice strained. "Yeah, fine." He rubs his thigh in a way that suggests he's very much not fine.

You hover, unsure if you should touch him. You know Spencer doesn't love to be touched without warning.

He leans against your desk. He's not running away screaming, which is a good sign, although he's somewhat incapacitated so maybe he wants to but can't.

You go to your desk drawer and get an instant ice pack, shaking and crushing it.

"No, I'm fine, really—" Spencer insists, but you make him take it anyway. He obediently presses it to his leg.

"I know you bruise easily," you say, chewing your lip. "God, I'm so sorry, Spencer."

"This wasn't your fault. I'm clumsy," he says.

You shake your head, lump in your throat. "You don't have to spare my feelings. I know I shouldn't have kissed you. It was stupid of me."

Spencer presses his lips together and looks down, shuffling the ice pack around. "Oh. I-I mean, we can forget about it, of course. I won't bring it up to anyone. No one will know we kissed."

"No, if you want to tell Hotch and, y'know, have my desk moved or something, I'd understand," you say, more glum than when you couldn't crack the case.

"Wait, what? If I told Hotch?"

You shrug self-consciously. "It was unprofessional, to say the least. I made you uncomfortable."

"No, you didn't."

You look at Spencer. He's looking right back at you, pinning you with those bottomless eyes.

"Did you kiss me because we solved the case?" he asks.

You shake your head. "No. I... I've wanted to kiss you for a long time. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he says softly, and then you're getting kissed back by Spencer Reid.

He kisses like he wants to devour you, and it startles you how voraciously Spencer kisses, like you're a well-loved book whose pages he pores over every time he reads.

You're caught off-guard too by his confidence, those big, chilly hands completely cradling your face. The ice pack tumbles to the floor. Spencer takes the air right out of you, sends lightning up your spine.

"Thought you thought you'd made a mistake," he says against your mouth, in between kisses.

You shake your head. "Didn't." And that's all you both need.

You think you'll stay late more often. You suspect that Spencer will, too. It's incredibly productive.

[go-star-sailor]

you should draw greg and wirt bundled up for winter i think greg would have a coat thats way too big and he can barely move in it because i think thats super cute lol

oh for sure!!

i remember a long time ago seeing someone’s headcanon that post unknown wirt hates feeling cold.. my heart melts thinking about him always making sure greg is warm enough too..,.,,., ough :,)

but we stay silly so have these too

[notthesoup]

got a few ideas for your writers block

stoner vi and what she’s like when she’s high

athlete vi au and her reaction to you going to her games

what vi is like when she has a crush on reader like a massive one

PAIRING vi x fem!reader

TYPE headcanons

SYNOPSIS what vi is like when she has a major crush on reader (friends to lovers)

NOTES i will complete the other two prompts on a seperate post. not beta read!

© notthesoup — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

She loves the way you laugh, and though she may not admit it in the early stages of tour friendship, she’ll often do things to try to make you laugh.

In group settings she is often seen by your side. You both are inseparable in times of happiness, preferring to share it with one another.

Vi is a big listener, and loves to hear you talk. Though, sometimes she finds her mind adrift as she gazes at your face as you speak animatedly about a subject. In these moments, her mind is blank, but there is an overwhelming feeling of affection and appreciation towards you.

When she focuses back on the conversation after you’ve asked her a direct question, she quickly flounders. She thinks that her excuse as to why she wasn’t listening is enough to tide you over, but there’s a certain glint in your eyes when you contemplate why she started spluttering. Your fixed stare at her is almost enough to make this cycle repeat again.

Vi is a very physical person, always having a hand on your shoulder or arm, holding your hand in hers, or absentmindedly playing with your fingers.

She sometimes feels guilty/anxious about this physical aspect of herself though; throughout her life, fighting has been at the forefront of her mind, so to finally be at peace is a strange headspace to be in. Sometimes you’ll walk too quietly or turn a corner to quickly and she flinches, her fists clenched in instilled preparation. It’ll take a while, but she eventually unlearns these habits and exists in a more serene state, where she doesn’t have to be constantly vigilant.

Vi loves that she’s able to talk about stupid shit with you; what qualifies as a soup, what a hypothetical second winter would look like, whether cherry tomatoes are inherently evil, etc. The both of you could discuss for hours without tiring, even though you’d eventually talk in circles. It’s never a dull moment with you.

Vi’s love language is acts of service. She realizes her feelings towards you are more than just a crush when you surprise her with something seemingly small, be it a cute note or an offer to help her with errands.

Although she has a reputation of being a smug cocky bastard (affectionate), it’s mostly a bluff. When it comes down to it, she’s a very gentle and careful lover. After realizing the extent of her feelings towards you, she tries gauging your reaction by “subtly” being more affectionate.

In the end though, it’s actually you who initiates the romance between you two. Months down the line, she’ll ask you how you knew she liked you. You’ll then laugh, a very boisterous and happy sound, and she’ll store that memory with her like a picture in a wallet.

ARCANE MASTERLIST !

ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work, please consider reblogging and/or commenting! thank you if you do 🤍

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Am I a Fake Autistic Person if I don't like weighted blankets? Weighted blankets make me claustrophobic, so I'm wondering if that means I'm not actually autistic because it seems like every other autistic person in the world loves them.

Hi there,

It’s okay not to like weighted blankets. Not every autistic person likes them. It doesn’t mean you aren’t autistic. It just means you don’t like weighted blankets.

I hope this helps. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can you do a Daryl Dixon one where he almost loses her to someone/something/or a walker so he decides to tell her that he loves her and he makes love to her as well. A little possessive and maybe kinda future family references?

.⋆｡Worst Timing｡⋆.

Daryl Dixon x plus size reader

Daryl is an all or nothing man, so obviously he would only tell you that he was desperately in love with you right after you almost died.

Warnings: canon-level violence, walkers, loosely based around s6 ep9, sorry no smut this time (i blame the luteal phase), angst, fluff, confessions, blood, mention of kids  WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

A/N: Could be read as a part 2 to this but it isn't necessary to read it first

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The sounds of walkers were almost deafening, almost. The crackling of the flames behind him and the squelch of blades against flesh but Daryl forced himself to ignore all of that, though the volume kept increasing like someone had turned up the world’s biggest stereo. 

Withered hands reached for him, but the hunter battered them away with a swing of his knife. He just had to get further into the crowd, he could see the house where the group had been held up, the candles in the window like a beacon in the night. He was only a couple hundred feet away, a few rows of walkers between him and his people.

The sea of rotting bodies parted for just a moment, right as a street lamp flickered to life, and there you were. A crowbar in your dominant hand, your clothes soaked in blood and walker guts, your eyes reflecting the fire in front of you and for a moment, Daryl froze in awe. You gracefully swung the weapon over your head, bringing it down into the skull of a fresh walker before spinning on your heel and using the otherside to connect with the jaw of another. You moved fluidly, like this was a well-practised dance you had done hundreds of times before instead of a game of survival. 

Your arm came down, spiking a crawler through the top of its skull. But suddenly, you stopped moving, your eyes going wide. You grabbed at the crowbar with both hands and pulled back but it refused to budge, and just as you vanished once more into the crowd, Daryl saw why.

The straight end of the crowbar had pierced all the way through the walker and buried itself in the hard soil beneath your feet and with the walkers closing in around you, you had no room to get enough leverage to pull it out. Then you vanished between the walkers once more.

“Y/N!” Daryl didn’t even think as he launched himself in your direction, hunting knife screaming through the air, cutting down anything that stood in his way. He pushed and shoved and clawed his way through because you were all that mattered, you were all he lived for. The moment he met you in that stupid, beautiful, damned farm, his world had tilted on its axis.

Your smile was his sunlight, your laugh, his favourite music. Your body, his aurora borealis. You were a miracle and yet so painfully human all the same. And if he let you die, his heart would wither away with you before he ever got to tell you that it had been yours since before you both had even met.

Red blurred his vision though whether it was from blood or rage, he didn’t care to find out. He threw his broad shoulder into the chest of a particularly tall walker, forcing it back into the waiting blade of one of the Alexandrians and finally, finally clearing the way to you. 

You were pinned against the street curb, your back curved at an awkward angle as the weight of two walkers kept you from standing or rolling away. You held one back with your left arm, its face barely centimetres from your own, as you wedged a knee between you and the second one.

His fingers sank into the rotted flesh of the creature trying to sink its teeth into your forearm and threw it off with so much force that as soon as it hit the concrete several feet away, its skull cracked open, spilling black brain matter onto the street. You were now fully on your back, still punching and kicking in any direction you could, even as the walkers started to thin. You shoved off the second walker, just in time for Daryl’s steel-toed boot to come down right on the back of its head.

“Daryl.” His name dripped from your lips like honey, immediately cooling his head like some sort of balm to his soul. The ground shook as he fell to his knees next to you. The orange light of the lake still burning strong flickered across your face, illuminating every single detail he had memorised so long ago.

The roughness of his palm met the softness of your full cheek, sending a spark of excitement racing through his tired body. “I almost lost ya.” You pressed into his touch, your own shaking hand cupping his elbow as you leaned in closer.

“But you saved me.” His heart skipped a beat and you smiled gently at him. You were here, you were alive and in his arms and suddenly, Daryl couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

Your lips were chapped and dry but perfect all the same as he finally kissed you. A squeak of surprise passed from your mouth to his before your eyes fluttered shut and you pressed against him. Your fingers curled into the soft leather of his vest, like you were trying to anchor him to you as if he were about to get up and walk away. Daryl snarled at the thought, his grip on your jaw getting tighter as the kiss began to heat up.

You were desperately chasing his lips, your feelings so plainly laid out for him that Daryl felt stupid for never having seen them before. He felt your need to be by his side in the warmth of your touch, the faith you had in him in the way you let his weight rest against you. 

The softness of your body moulded to him in a way he could only imagine it would and it was so much more than that. Your nose bumped into his, prompting him to tilt his head. You responded with a soft moan that shot through his body. 

“While I am happy for you two, we still have shit to do, now’s not really the time.” You pulled away from Daryl’s lips with an embarrassed gasp, leaving him cold without your touch. Michonne stood above the both of you, equally haggard and filthy but her smile, although small, was genuine if not teasing. 

“Sorry.” You scrambled to your feet and pulled your crowbar from where it was still stuck. Your eyes sparkled as you looked at Daryl, a promise and heat in your gaze, before you jogged off into the centre of town where the herd was now thinned but still biting. 

He watched you go, his heart trailing behind you. “Rick’ll want to be godfather to your kids, just so you know.” 

A blush exploded across his face. “Shuddup.” He rushed after you, cheeks still burning and his body exhausted but he felt lighter than he had ever felt before. Because you were surviving and you were his and by whatever god was out there, he would spend the rest of his life thanking them for that.

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[dungeon-meshi-tournament]

can we get a podium comparison to last year's?

Yeah sure. Last year's podium on the left, this year's podium on the right:

As you can see, it was Laios, Marcille, Senshi last year, and it's Senshi, Izutsumi, Marcille this year.

[ultimatesomething-1191]

[It didn’t take long for something to happen. Nothing ever goes Komaeda Nagito’s way.

A sharp intake of air reached their lungs as their eyes shot open. Their breathing remained heavy and uneven, clearly having been the same while they were awake. It takes Komaeda a moment to even process that it was a nightmare, and it had to be one of the worst nightmares thus far.

Of course he couldn’t stay lucky for long.

Komaeda situates themselves upright, hands clasped over their mouth to try and stop his shortness of breath waking up Hinata. They visibly shook, hands only managing to stay still from how tightly they were over his face as tears threatened to fall.

Of course, he wasn’t going to let them fall. Komaeda was not someone who cried easily, and although tears formed, he simply wouldn’t let them win.]

(That- that had to have been the worst one so far. That was- it’s-)

(…)

(I feel sick.)

@komaedas-fragments

*Hinata stirs, groaning as he rolls over and starts to wake up.

As he blinks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he quickly realizes that something’s wrong.

He goes still, listening carefully. Anxiety rises in his chest. He sits up, squinting into the darkness.*

Komaeda…? Is that you?

[fatliberation]

I apologize in advance because I have a LOT of fatphobia I’m trying to work through and that is probably gonna ooze out in this ask, and also that this is probably above your pay grade but I literally don’t know who else to ask (my therapist is on vacation).

I realized the amount of self hatred I have either because of/related to the fact I’m fat is like fairly unhealthy, and I also project said hatred onto other fat people. I don’t really know where to start fighting that amount of hatred.

By “amount of hatred” I mean I am literally physically repulsed by my body, hate it like a mortal enemy, and feel the desire to self harm when I remember how I look/feel. I feel disgusted at fat bodies, though not usually the people themselves.

I get that like there are layers to fat liberation, but I’m not at level 0, Im in the negatives. Like I’m probably the person who hates fatness the most out of everyone I know (sorry). It’s to the point I’m kind of cringing at myself for even trying to get rid of the hatred of fatness.

I guess what I’m asking is where the hell do I even START? I feel overwhelmed, and that paired with the fact I’m kinda forcing myself to face this demon against my will isn’t helping.

I hope this is mildly legible, and ofc if this whole thing disturbs you there’s no obligation to give me advice. I’m probably also gonna message my therapist. Thank you for your time.

I was just about to say, I would suggest therapy. it’s also really shitty to tell other fat people that you hate us. you could have worded this ask so, so differently.

[infamous-if]

So why is Soft Violence bigger? 🤨

Because SV had a viral song early in their career + it's not always about who is the better technical singer it's about the music and how well you appeal to your audience during a performance 😭 which is sev's strength

and they're not that much bigger than the band at all, they just have a boost because a song of theirs blew up

[agere-activities]

do you have about me worksheets with unique fun questions?? a lot of them have the same questions & i want something new :3

hi there! i tried my best here, haha. i hope these are okay! thank you for the request, lovebug!

[qwiopty]

Heyo! Can you draw tails as a cat?

yes i can!!! cats galore!!

heres the first one i had sitting in my files for a bit LOL

[sanguineterrain]

Hi Sanne! Could I please request a Wally x reader where she’s super clumsy and kinda shy so when he flirts with her she gets all flustered and clumsy and Wally thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world? Thank you!

got this request AGES ago and forgot to post. hope you like! I don't know much about wally's personality admittedly except for the few comics I've read with him 🫣

gn!reader. wally makes your body and mouth clumsy. kissing and confessions. drinking.

****

"So what exactly is this again?" Roy asks, peering at his glass.

"It's a mocktail," you say.

"No, I get that, but why is it blue? And sparkly."

"It's supposed to be the ocean," Dick says. "Duh."

"Oh, sure. As usual, I'm the idiot. Never had the creative mind to find worlds in drinks. 'S like I'm drinking a snow globe."

"I can get you something else," you say, laughing.

"No, I like the snowglobe." Roy curls his hands around the glass protectively. "My snowglobe."

The team's decided to try their hand at a trivia night at a local bar. It's gone better than you expected, with only one near-blowup and no glasses thrown. All in all, a good night.

"I would like another daiquiri, please," Donna says, holding up her glass. "These are delicious. What flavor did you say this one was?"

"Passion fruit."

She nods. "Indeed. I'm passionate about this fruit."

"Don't get my team too hungover," Dick says, eyes shining and cheeks pink from two drinks.

"I'll do my best," you say.

If only Wally were here, you don't say. He'd be a big help in getting everyone back to the Tower. You have no idea how you're going to manage the Wonder Twins and Garth wobbling all over the sidewalk. Roy, though perfectly sober, will provide zero help, too busy giggling at Dick's lack of motor skills.

You take Donna's glass because she deserves another passion fruit daiquiri if she wants it, darn it. You order that and another two baskets of fries. Dick's got the tab. Everyone's taking advantage.

"Need a hand?"

You turn with the fries cradled in one arm and the daiquiri in your other hand. You don't anticipate Wally to be standing as close as he is.

The baskets go flying.

"Whoa!" he says, darting out to catch the food. He does so perfectly, of course.

"Oh!" Your face goes hot as Wally grins at you.

"Careful," he says. "All those heroes and not a single one came to help you carry the food? They should be ashamed of themselves."

"They're, um, having a good time. It's okay, really." Did you manifest him being here? "I was just thinking about you."

Wally's grin widens. "Oh, yeah? Anything in particular?"

Now, why did you say that? Your tongue just gets so clumsy around him.

"I was—I mean, it wasn't—I was thinking about how helpful it would be if you were here. I was hoping you'd come."

"Well, hope no more! You've got an official superhero on your side."

Wally wriggles the glass out of your hand and gestures for you to go ahead. Now you're carrying nothing. You go, knowing that protesting does no good with Wally.

"Seems like wherever you go, Wally isn't far behind," Roy says, waggling his eyebrows. "You two psychically linked or something?"

Dick and Donna exchange smiles. You look at Wally, mildly mortified by the teasing.

"We're soulmates, actually," Wally says, and that makes your whole body hot. "Wouldn't expect you to understand, Arrow Boy."

"Dude, I'm hurt." Roy clutches his chest. "I thought we were soulmates."

"You wish. Where's Garth?"

"Bathroom," Dick says.

Donna makes grabby hands for the drink. She takes a long sip and gives you a thumbs up. You return it.

"We should play pool!" Dick says.

"No way, you cheat," Roy says.

"I do not! Donna, do I cheat?"

"Physically, Dick doesn't cheat, but he has a long history of psychologically manipulating opponents," Donna says.

Roy snaps his fingers. "Bingo."

"I don't cheat, I'm just that good." Dick smirks. "Anyway, I'm tipsy, so my aim will be off."

Roy rolls his eyes. "Yeah, right. No bets. I can't afford to lose anymore money to you."

"Fine. You two joining us?" Dick asks, looking at you and Wally.

"I don't know how to play pool," you say, a little embarrassed. Working on a team of superheroes, the least you could do is know how to play pool. Pool is obviously a cool people game. Batman probably taught Dick pool when he was, like, eight.

"That's fine, we can teach ya," Roy says.

"No, we suck at teaching," Dick says. "Remember, Roy? Remember how we suck at teaching people? Wally's way better at teaching."

Roy glances at Dick, then at Wally. He nods slowly. "Ah... yeah. Our, uh, shortcomings as teachers—yeah, we suck. Wally, you're up!"

Wally squints at them. "What're you talking about? You guys are better at pool than me."

"Not true! You can calculate physics in your head and shit. Go on. Shoo, fly," Roy says, waving him away.

Wally looks at you, questioning. You shrug, trying to play off how nervous you are at the prospect of being alone with him.

You follow him to one of the pool tables. He takes down a cue stick and gives it to you.

"You really don't have to teach me," you say, suddenly self-conscious. "It's not a big deal."

"I don't mind," he says, smiling. "Plus, what if you're a pool prodigy and we never find out because I never taught you and unlocked your ability? Tragic."

You laugh. He beams. You back up against the table and the wooden edge hits your back. You wince.

"You okay?" he asks, inspecting you.

"Fine." You sigh. "Okay, I'm ready to unlock my special abilities."

"Right on. So you're gonna hold the cue like this."

He puts it in your hands and adjusts your grip.

"Okay, and you're gonna stand like—uh, is it cool if I touch you?"

"Uh-huh," you say, hoping your voice isn't high and breathy.

Wally gently bends you forward and moves your hips so your legs are planted. He's behind you, mouth near your ear.

"Alright," he says, and your whole body goes aflame. He's so close. "So pull back..."

You pull back the cue and promptly elbow Wally in the stomach. He grunts and you drop the stick, mortified.

"Oh my God," you say, spinning around. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. God—"

You dart away, the humiliation too overwhelming. You're making a beeline for the bathroom when Wally appears in front of you. Damn superspeed.

"Hey, hey," he says, hands on your shoulders. "I'm okay. Seriously, don't even worry about it!"

"No." You shake your head. "I give up. I'm too uncoordinated for this stuff. There's a reason I'm not out on the field."

"Aw, c'mon, none of that," Wally says, rubbing your arms. "You're a valued member of the team even if you don't go onto the field. What you do is important. You're like our Oracle."

"I've been tripping over my own feet all night," you say, looking down.

No guesses as to why you've been so clumsy. Starts with a W, ends with a Y.

"Well, I'll always be there to catch you," Wally says warmly. "I have great reflexes. It's kinda my thing."

You busy yourself with picking at a loose thread on your shirt, so Wally won't see your response to that.

"I'm still sorry for elbowing you." You cover your face at the memory. "Ugh."

He laughs. "Nah, it's okay, honestly. I'm a tough guy. Put on my own suit and everything."

And now, your mind is inundated with images of Wally in his suit.

He carefully tugs your hands from your face, gaze soft. You're caught off-guard as Wally rubs your knuckles with his thumbs.

"Listen, I..." He glances around as if searching for words. You've never seen Wally at a loss for words. He's usually talking too fast for anyone to keep up. "I don't know if maybe I'm misreading this. I don't think I am. But if I am, feel free to elbow me again."

Your eyes widen. "I would never—"

And quick as anything, Wally leans in and pecks your lips. It's warm, like a shock of electricity. You barely have time to process it.

"Oh," is all you can say.

Wally smiles nervously. "Is that a good oh or a 'I'd like to punch you in the face' oh?"

"I like you," you blurt.

He relaxes into a grin. "Know what? I kind of suspected. Especially after those idiots practically forced us into playing pool. I'm dumb but I'm not that dumb."

"You're not dumb, Wally."

"When it comes to this stuff, I really am. But I'm happy you like me because I really like you. Like, a lot."

"Yeah? Elbows and all?"

Wally laughs, draws you in again for a kiss. "You can elbow me any time, babe."

[theforgottencrow]

HII U ASKED FOR REQUESTS SO!!

If you draw ships may i request Horror x Reaper…

Ofc ^u^

I had fun with this :3

Horror belongs to Sourapplestudios

Reaper belongs to Renrink