#it’s all the issues working at hand to kill me

[nightingale-prompts]

Bringing back another black-haired and blue-eyed boy was met with a round of sighs but acceptance.

Little Davey looked only a few years younger than Damian. 12 years old at the most. The boy was pale, slightly gaunt, with large eyes and matted black hair.

Davey was strange. He didn't understand social cues or how to exist in public. He knew next to nothing about how the world works or how to stay safe. Cars were familiar enough but only because he would be dragged into them or put in the trunk. He was very excited when he was allowed to touch the buttons.

Damian wasn't ready to be an older brother especially not to something like that thing. Davey felt wrong to Damian. Something that shouldn't exist.

Damian was proved right when the boy looked him right in the eyes and said.

"Play with me." He pulled Damian's drawn sword to his neck. "Cut me open!"

Bruce snatched Davey back from the blade and told Damian to put it away. Davey was forbidden from entering the Batcave and any dangerous items.

Damian was freaked out. Davey was too mentally disturbed to be here. However, the revenant is fond of his older brother and follows him around and begs him to play. Damian has to try pawning him off on the others but Davey is like glue.

Then there was food.

Davey didn't understand food. He had been fed a mostly liquid diet for his short life by Vlad. The liquid was made from nutrients and ectoplasm. After escaping Davey didn't know what food looked like. When strangers came up to him offering candy he took it. So he learned that candy was also food. But that wasn't enough to make him full, so he resorted to the closest form of ectoplasm he could find. Human blood. He learned that he could drink it for sustenance.

Feeding Davey for the first time was...sad. He was like a toddler learning what different flavors were. Sour, salty, and savory. All so new a wonderful.

Tim let him him have a sip of soda and Davey was hooked.

Tim is also banned from giving food to Davey after letting him try coffee and making him sick.

Stephanie is also banned after giving him spicy chips. Mostly because of Davey's need to harm himself caused him to eat himself sick.

Davey's issues are more than concerning. Dick was supposed to watch him while Bruce was investigating the last suicide linked to Davey. Davey didn't know how to talk to someone not trying to kill him. But Dick felt like him. The blood on his hands was the same as his. But the lingering scent of another pulled Davey elsewhere.

The other revenant.

One that felt a similar drive.

Bruce debated if Jason should meet Davey. It could help them both but it could easily make them worse. Davey was impressionable, to say the least, and Jason didn't need to bring someone else on his crusade.

Jason wouldn't use Davey like that but Davey would surely agree to it.

But Davey wasn't like Jason. He didn't kill. He gets killed. He lets himself be tortured until he drives others insane. Jason could never use him to kill the Joker. In fact, the clown must never know of Davey's powers or Davey might find his eternal playmate.

But it doesn't change that Jason and Davey will meet.

"Yeah, he's coming with me," Jason said picking up the boy under one arm.

"You can't just take him!" Dick yelled

"Do you guys think you can control him? That he'll stop wandering around looking for more targets. He can't and he won't. It's a part of him. At least I can get to his targets before they can kill him first. If he can sniff out any predator then he can use his powers for good." Jason said .

"He's not like us. He's a child and mentally he isn't ready for the outside world yet. I love you but I can't let you drag him into your mess." Dick said.

"And what? Fix him? He is a revenant and he's going to seek out his obsession. In a place like Gotham, he will find another target. He needs it." Jason barked.

There is no clear answer. They could try to preserve any innocence Davey had left but that same innocence led him to being tortured. They could also tell him what he's actually doing and he'll then do it on purpose knowingly killing others. What was better for him mentally because they all knew by this point Davey would strike again? It's his nature.

The only answer they had right now was finding where Davey died originally and calming his spirit. If they could find his original killer or make a grave for him then he'd settle.

Constantine was firm that Davey couldn't leave even if they calmed his soul. His life and death were too traumatic for him to disappear.

On the other side of the country, Danny had a bad feeling. He knew he should leave his clones to themselves and wait for them to come home on their own but his most recent clone brother bothered him. He wasn't like Elle at all. He was...odd. Danny decided not to worry too much since the clone was stable.

But then Vlad talked non-stop about losing his "precious boy". The word made him feel sick. Then there was the first death. Some offender that lived on the outskirts of town ended their life. The only reason anyone talked about it was the state he was found in. Blood was everywhere more blood than a single human body had and unknown chunks of meat scattered the ground.

Danny brushed it off but more started happening and they led a bloody trail.

Of course, Danny knew something was up. This all lined up perfectly with the clone's escape. But at the same time, all the victims were serial child murderers. It was hard to feel bad about it. He had found his obsession and it was such a bad one.

But Danny was still worried. A bit of investigation wouldn't hurt.

(This all came out as a stream of consciousness)

Lay Me to Rest- DCxDP Prompt

Warning: Blood and gore

There has been a series of murders across the country. Each death was varied and self-inflicted. At first, they all seemed like suicide but each had a strange range of symptoms before death.

Sudden paranoia, incoherent mumbling, screaming or yelling, going in and out of their homes sporadically, random fixations, and finally self-harm.

The victims were teachers, parents, businessmen, truckers, and even a crime novelist. All unrelated and in different states.

Each victim didn't seem to have a connection until an investigation discovered that each one had been an active serial killer. The body counts ranged from as little as 5 to as much as 23. The killer was named the Serial Serial Killer which wasn't creative but it was catchy. Some called them the Angel of Vengeance but most thought it was cringy and overdramatic. Many people didn't want them to be caught but others hotly debated letting a killer dispense justice when their crusade could easily turn into them killing people for innocuous things.

The police were still questioning whether this killer even existed. One thing was clear, there was a trail and it led straight to Gotham. A goldmine for them. Naturally, Batman had gotten a hold on the case and began an investigation.

The biggest question was how the killer found their victims and how they knew that they were killers.

The answer was obvious. They didn't need to figure it out. They just needed to wait. Why just in the effort to investigate when a serial killer tries to convince you to leave with them? So bars are the obvious place. But that's shaky at best since there is a period of torment that takes place that allows the victims to return home. The killer doesn't care if the victims could call the police, perhaps because they know their victim won't.

Bruce started to build a profile. He saw a pattern here. Each of the victims had a preference for their victims as well. They targeted young people, mainly boys. Odds are the Serial Serial Killer matched that description or age range. So bars weren't the hunting ground. So parks were more likely to go unnoticed and boys tended to hang out there longer after dark.

The killer was more than likely a victim himself so he may have a few scars but probably not noticeable enough that his would-be assailants would be turned off. There is no ignoring the predatory nature of the victims. Each killed children for gratification in some form. It's not that the boy is attractive but he probably has traits that the victims found attractive in children. So babyfaced, short, native, and polite.

There was much else Bruce could get. There was nothing concrete and he still didn't understand the method that was used. So far this was guesswork.

It wasn't until a few weeks later while he tracking another killer that he found his answer.

Dr.Kinder a Biologist by day and a killer who experiments on his victims at night had picked up a promising new lab rat a week ago. He had intended to slowly dissect the boy. He had gotten so used to the screams he stopped using anesthetics besides he wanted to see how the fear response caused the organs to shift.

To his surprise the boy didn't fight, in fact he seemed to jump to the table and say he didn't need restraints. Disturbing. But he was restrained anyways.

As the doctor cut him open the boy didn't react, only humming to himself as he watched the doctor.

"What are you hoping to find?" He asked. "I'm getting bored and this bearly hurts."

The boy annoyingly never stopped talking and never missed a chance to ruin the moment. There were never any screams or cries but incessant talking.

Dr.Kinder found the boy disturbing so he simply took an axe and chopped the boy into pieces. Not once did he make a sound. The doctor thought it was over but the next day the boy was back. He sat on the autopsy table kicking his feet in nothing but his bare skin.

"What the hell are you?" The doctor gasped in horror.

"I'm bored. Play with me again." The boy purred.

Bile crawled up his throat as the doctor restained this...thing again.

This time the boy spoke differently.

"You cut me up last time. Did you do that to the last boy. After you...you know." A sick grin spread across his cheeks.

The doctor cut open his neck this time and let him bleed out.

Everyday he came back and every day the doctor killed him until the time between his death got shorter and shorter. The days began to blur and he had no idea how long he had been doing this. But that thing kept talkimg to him.

Dr.Kinder stared down at his desk at the papers trying to think of anything but-

"I wonder what people would think about what you've done. You're a disgusting and depraved man doctor. Look at what you've done to me." The sing-song voice of that demon called out.

He could feel those blood-soaked arms wrapped around his neck.

He flinch as he pushed the thing away.

"Oh, are you going to beat me or stab me this time? Ooo, or are you going to put me through the woodchipper again?" The demon asked as the doctor wrapped his hands around his throat.

He just kept squeezing until the boy went limp. It never ends. The blood never goes away. It covered every surface of the room. Dripping, conjugating, and spreading into every corner. Whenever he turned his head he could see body parts spread across the room in the pools of blood he could they the faces of the others that he had killed. Each face wretched in agony.

"You hold on better than the others. I've been eaten, torched, and disemboweled before but after coming back a few times they usually end it after a few words. But every time they don't feel guilt. They just don't want to face consequences." The boy said. "Do you even remember my name? The one I told you when you picked me up on the side of the road or was I just another body to use and discard? I used the name of your first victim. I hoped you'd notice."

The doctor knew he couldn't kill the boy but he could end himself. He had tried it once but just like the kid he came back without a scratch.

"Not yet. This is your life now. Come on, let's taste death together. Again and again and again and again and-" he repeated over and over.

This was hell. This was his hell.

But it came to an end eventually. Dr.Kinder put an end to himself in a gruesome display.

Batman had only caught the tail end as he faced a young boy standing an a pool of blood.

****

"Yeah, that thing is like a worse version of a revenant. Doesn't really have a name yet to describe it. It's undead for sure. You kill it and it just comes back." Constantine said "Why did you bring it here?"

After a long bath and some new clothes, the kid looked normal as played on a phone given to him.

"Look, I didn't know what else to do." Bruce explained.

"You leave it alone!" Constantine said exasperated "Look they are harmless to anything they don't bear a grudge towards. Think of it as a force of nature." Constantine said.

"I just want to know how to stop him." Bruce said.

"Well you can't kill it but you can't bring him back entirely. You can just soothe it 'till it stops targeting its victims. It must have died pretty gruesomely to go to these lengths. You need to find where it died and lay it to rest. Properly." Constantine sighed knowing that appeasing this soul would be more than just difficult.

"Danny, come on. Let's go." Bruced said putting a hand on the boy's head as Danny stood up to leave.

"Okay. Bye!" Danny waved to Constantine.

[gingiesworld]

Ghost (2/?)

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 4.8k+

MINORS DNI 18+

Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong @alexawynters (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

It was a struggle for Y/N to settle in to living at the compound, although it was a comfort to them for Wanda also being there, when she’s not on missions, it was hard for them to be completely comfortable, knowing that the others didn’t really trust them.

“Welcome back girls.” Steve smiled once both Wanda and Nat returned from their recon mission, Wanda could sense that Y/N wasn’t at the compound.

“Where’s Y/N?” She questioned before greeting the team.

“They went on their own mission.” Tony informed her.

“In other words, killing in cold blood.” Steve scoffed, earning a glare from Wanda.

“It’s not cold blood if it stops Hydra from ever forming again.” Bucky retorted, turning Steve’s attention to him.

“You don’t know that these people have links to Hydra, for all we know it could just be their own hitlist.” Steve countered, watching as Bucky shook his head.

“You don’t understand Steve.” He spoke calmly. “You were never a part of Hydra, you were never their puppet, manipulated into doing their work. You were always the good one, on the good side.”

“That doesn’t mean that what they’re doing is right.” Steve raised his voice slightly.

“So, would you rather there be a chance that Hydra rebuilds, without any one being able to stop it?” Bucky questioned. “Innocent people going missing for them to be experimented on and tortured?”

“We would be able to stop it the right way.” Steve tried, making Wanda chuckle dryly.

“No, we wouldn’t.” She spoke up. “What Y/N is doing is the right way, they are making sure that no innocent people will ever be hurt again, no families would experience the loss that we have all endured, that Y/N has endured.”

“This is unbelievable.” Steve muttered as he turned to walk away.

“They’re right, Frosty.” Tony added, making Nat chuckle at the nickname. “Y/N’s way is more of a preventative measure.”

“Do you agree with this?” He asked Natasha, who looked him straight in the eyes.

“If I thought there was a chance that someone would rebuild the Red Room, I would do what Y/N is doing right now.” Natasha told him honestly, her arms crossed. “So yes, I do agree with them.”

“But these people have families of their own.” He tried as Nat shrugged.

“It stops them from brainwashing their children, or grandchildren into thinking Hydra would be the solution to every government or world issue.” She told him firmly. “Governments, politicians and agencies all have their own agendas to benefit themselves, I remember you once said that when you went against the Sokovian Accords to protect your best friend.”

“Bucky was innocent, we all know this.” Steve tried weakly, knowing he was losing his argument.

“I still have a lot of blood on my hands, innocent blood.” He reminded him. “It doesn’t matter if I was under their mind control and had no idea what I was doing, but it was still my hands that followed through on their orders, the assassinations.” With that Steve just walked out, leaving them all behind in a huff.

“When will he get that self righteous icicle from up his ass?” Y/N spoke from behind them, making everyone turn around, the smile on their face growing as their eyes met Wanda’s.

“You’re back?” Wanda questioned as Y/N nodded. “I thought you would be gone longer?”

“I am, as they say, efficient at my job.” They smirked, making her shake her head.

“I’m happy you’re back.” She told them, patting their arm awkwardly before she stepped away. “I am going to get cleaned up.” She said as she started her way towards her room, Nat followed her into her bedroom, closing the door behind them.

“What was that?” Nat questioned as Wanda shrugged, feigning ignorance. “You know exactly what I mean, Wanda, with the awkward pat.”

“What do you want me to say?” Wanda questioned as she sat on the edge of her bed. “That I have some unresolved feelings, especially since they came back into my life after spending a couple of years thinking they had died in my arms.” She sighed as she began to play with the sleeves of her sweater. “Truthfully, I don’t have any unresolved feelings towards them, because I know how I felt about them. I remember the feeling as though it was yesterday and I still have those feelings, maybe even stronger now.”

“But what about Vision?” Nat questioned as Wanda shook her head.

“I don’t know, I know I felt something for him, but with Y/N it’s different.” Wanda admitted. “I can’t quite explain it because I never thought I would ever feel as safe as I did when I was in Hydra.” She chuckled lightly before continuing. “I know how weird that sounds, given Hydra’s history and all, but they made me feel safe, I knew that while I was there, I wouldn’t ever come into harm's way, neither did my brother. Y/N cared for the both of us, unlike any of the other guards who worked there.”

“What about when they weren’t there? They must have needed to take a day or two.” Nat questioned as Wanda shook her head.

“They were there every day, without fail.” Wanda told her. “Or they had the only other guard they knew that they could trust, watch over us while they accompanied Strucker. Y/N saved both myself and Pietro, on multiple occasions, knowing just how it would end for them if they ever got caught.”

“You were in love with them.” Nat stated, earning a shush from Wanda.

“I was.” She whispered before she looked at her hands. “And I still am.” She admitted. “But I don’t know what to do, I’m not even sure I am ready for it myself, especially with Vision in the picture.”

“You do know, you will have to choose.” Nat told her. “You know both of them would want you to be happy, no matter what or who you decide.”

“I know.” Wanda took a deep breath. “But I am not ready to lose anyone else, not yet, not ever.”

“I’m sorry about Steve.” Bucky spoke as he entered the training room, seeing Y/N at the weights. “He thinks that there is always a choice, especially when people's lives are in our hands.”

“But how many people has he killed during war? How many enemies has he killed during missions?” Y/N questioned, putting the weights down. “He thinks he is doing good, following orders like the good soldier, for the same government in which Hydra had hidden inside of over the decades.”

“Trust me, I understand where you are coming from.” Bucky started before being cut off by them.

“You don’t understand.” They told him. “Once he knew that you were still alive, he never gave up on you, he fought to get you back to being you. He is your friend, your brother in arms, I never had anyone who would fight for me like that. I had my family taken away from me, I watched them die before my own eyes and I was just a stupid kid who couldn’t save them.” They took a shaky breath before continuing. “I couldn’t save my younger brother. He was barely five years old and he died in my arms. Strucker watched me break on that night, he took away the last bit of happiness and hope I had left. So yeah, I remained with Hydra, following through on the orders I was given, that was until I met Wanda and Pietro. They reminded me what it meant to be family, to have someone who would go to the literal ends of the earth for you, because they would have died for each other, and their home. They reminded me that, maybe yeah, working with Hydra isn’t the greatest choice, hell, it’s not smart either but they only joined because they were misled, Hydra took their beliefs, their faith and used it for their own gains, making themselves two weapons that would match the greatness of the Winter Soldier. Steve may have seen war over the years he’s been on top, but he hasn’t seen the same war that you and I have so he doesn’t understand.” Bucky only nodded, knowing they were right with everything they had just told him. “Not everyone’s war is the same war, whether it be physical or mental.” With that they walked away, heading up towards the kitchen to grab some water.

“You’re new here.” A voice sounded as Y/N opened the fridge.

“Unfortunately, I am.” They answered, turning to face a teenager.

“Are you an Avenger?” He questioned excitedly.

“Not really, no.” Y/N answered him honestly. “Are you?” They questioned him.

“No, Mr Stark doesn’t think I’m responsible enough.” He told them, jumping down from the counter. “But I am your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.” He smiled confidently.

“Oh, so you’re the bug kid?” They teased him with a smirk.

“No, I’m Spiderman.” He answered them seriously.

“Just a question, how do you manage to climb walls or ceilings, if it's because your skin is like that of a spiders, how does that work through the costume?” They asked him, a serious expression on their face.

“I don’t really know.” He pondered, thinking about it. “I never really thought about it.”

“I’m only joking, kid.” They told him with a light chuckle, heading towards the exit. “I need to go and shower, but it was nice meeting you Spiderman.”

“Peter, Peter Parker.” He held out his hand for them to shake.

“Y/N.” They introduced themselves before heading straight to their room, Steve entering shortly after they left.

“Don’t interact with them.” He ordered Peter. “You don’t know what kind of killer they are.”

“Technically, aren’t we all killers in some way.” Peter told him honestly.

“They are different, dangerous and untrustworthy.” Steve told him sternly.

“I think I can trust my own judgment Mr Rogers.” Peter told him confidently before retreating towards Tony’s lab, leaving Steve defeated.

As the days went on, Y/N still remained distant from the rest of the team, only going to the kitchen for food or water, and training at night while everyone was either asleep or occupied with other things. One night, they never expected to have company whilst they were doing their own training.

“Hey.” Nat spoke up as she entered the room, watching as Y/N soon started to put down the equipment they were using.

“I was just finishing up.” They started before grabbing their belongings and heading towards the exit.

“I didn't want you to leave, Y/N.” Nat told them calmly. Y/N observed her, trying to figure out what she wanted. “I know it’s hard for you to settle in here right now, especially with Steve on his high horse.”

“What are you trying to get across?” Y/N asked her, tilting their head as Nat shuffled on her feet and glancing around the room.

“You were right, we all have blood on our hands, whether we intended or not.” She started, Y/N remained silent as they listened to her. “You are more alike to a vast majority of us here, we have all had a bad start in our careers but we had the chance to turn it around, fight for something that’s worth fighting for and Steve, he just doesn’t understand that. He has always fought for good, he has never had to endure the lack of choices the rest of us here have. He just doesn’t understand that sometimes freedom of choice isn’t always an option.”

“That’s not going to change how he sees me, he won’t ever trust me, not alone nor a part of this team.” They told her honestly.

“Then prove it to him.” She told them firmly. “Prove it that you can be trusted, not only as a part of this team but as a person.” Y/N then turned to walk away before she started to talk again. “You know, Wanda seems happier with having you here and back in her life. I’ve never really seen her so settled here, not before you came here.”

“She deserves to be happy.” Y/N spoke quietly, turning back to her once more. “That’s all I have ever wanted for her, to be happy and safe, and I know she is safe here with all of you.” With that they left the training room, leaving Nat alone in the empty room. Y/N had started to feel a new sense of belonging since having that conversation with Nat, feeling more at ease in their new home.

“So, you only have one more job left on your Hydra Agenda?” Maria questioned as she joined Y/N in their room, looking over the information they had gathered on the last name.

“Yeah, but this may be harder than all of the others.” They told her, giving her the folder. “Theodore is the head of an old Mafia family, his location is like a fortress.” They informed her. “It’s going to be harder for me to just sneak in and get the job done under the radar like I have all of the others.”

“And it seems he has doubled his security measures too.” She murmured as she combed through the pages. “So you’re going to need a team.”

“But with this one, we may be able to take down this whole organization itself.” Y/N stated. “It will help the local police too, especially since most of the crime here is caused by them.”

“We can always talk to Fury about putting a team together and then we can take them.” Maria told them. “I’ll speak with Fury and see if we can spare a team of SHIELD agents and when we can get this job done.” Y/N thanked her before she left their room, shortly after Wanda entered, leaning against the door frame.

“Hey.” She spoke softly, gaining their attention, gesturing to her to come inside.

“Hey.” They smiled awkwardly as they turned their desk chair to face her. “Are you okay?” They asked as they watched her walk around their room, observing the decor.

“You haven’t decorated, you know, like made this room your own.” She told them as she turned to face them.

“Well, I don’t exactly know what I’m supposed to do.” They admitted shyly. “I haven’t really thought of colours or anything else like that since, well you know.” They looked down at their hands, sadness evident in their posture.

“That’s okay.” Wanda reassured them. “Maybe we can make this room more your style if you’d like.”

“I don’t even know what my style is.” They chuckled as they rose from their chair, heading towards their closet. “I think I just dress in the same colours of my uniforms, which luckily is always black.” They didn’t watch as Wanda found an old picture of herself and Pietro when they were teens.

“You found this?” She questioned as she picked it up, a small smile on her face.

“I uh, Maria found it on the ground near me when they found me.” They admitted sheepishly. “I couldn’t not keep it, I know this is going to seem messed up but you and Pietro were like the only family I had ever had over the years. You both made me see what it was like to finally have hope and someone who would always have your back.”

“It’s not messed up.” She whispered shakily, her eyes burning into Y/N’s, neither of them breaking away. “I just thought it was lost forever.”

“No.” They shook their head. “I lo..” They stopped before thinking carefully what to say. “I like having that picture around, because it reminded me of the two of you.”

“You know, Pietro thought highly of you, even with your position at Hydra.” She told them as she placed the photo back down. “When we thought you died, he uh, he was almost as broken as I was.” She admitted as she sat down on the edge of their bed, playing with her fingers.

“I am sorry.” They apologised once more, only for Wanda to wave it off.

“You don’t need to keep apologising for that.” She chuckled lightly as she looked in their eyes, her gaze soft as she spoke. “The important thing is that you are here, you’re alive and I finally have you back.” She took a shaky breath as Y/N listened to her words. “I understand that you couldn’t come and look for me, and that’s okay.”

“I did want to find you.” Y/N admitted shyly. “I wanted to make sure that you were okay, that you were safe and well you are, given the circumstances.” They took a deep breath before they spoke once more, looking at her intensely. “I really am sorry about Pietro, he was a hero, not just to you or me, but to the whole world and your home.” Wanda nodded before she wiped her eyes, Y/N was quick to move to sit beside her, cautiously wrapping an arm around her.

“Thank you.” She sniffled as she looked at them as they sat beside her. “But, maybe we should go shopping for some paint and decorate this room. Get you out of this compound and maybe have some freedom from work.”

“Yeah, we should do that.” They agreed as they removed their arm from her. “Maybe after my last target.”

“Are you almost done with that list?” She questioned as Y/N nodded.

“I just have to assemble a team to accompany me on this one.” They told her. “Unfortunately, this last one knows that someone is onto them and well, it’s going to be extremely difficult to do my usual thing.”

“I can help.” Wanda started as Y/N shook their head no. “Why not?” She questioned as she stood up, her eyes burning into them.

“I just.” They started before they let go of a breath they were holding in. “Fury is picking the team so I don’t really have a choice who is joining me.” Wanda observed them, hoping they would say something else but only to receive silence.

“Okay.” Wanda pursed her lips before she headed towards the door, wanting to say something more but deciding not to as she left them alone in their room. Y/N looked at their door before they groaned and lay back on their bed.

“You know, it’s kind of sad how you both tip toe around each other.” Nat spoke up with a smirk as she leaned on their door frame.

“Are you sure you don’t have some sort of superpower?” Y/N questioned as she just chuckled.

“Nope, I am just extremely bored and well I have been asked to accompany you, Maria, Clint and some other agents on your next trip.” She informed them as she stepped in their room. “But you should really grow a pair of balls and tell her how you really feel.” She told them quietly as she stepped inside their room and closed the door.

“I don’t know what you mean.” They tried as Nat moved to sit in their desk chair.

“Yeah, you do.” She told them. “I can see how you look at her, ever since you came here you give her the same look every time.”

“I can’t tell her.” They said as they sat up, facing the Widow. “I just got her back and I don’t want to lose her again. I can’t do that again, she was my lifeline whilst we were both in Hydra, the one person who helped me hold on to the hope that I had already thought I had lost when I was younger.”

“Trust me, you won’t lose her.” Nat told them softly. “I can see just how important you are to her too.”

“Really?” They asked hopefully.

“Really, it’s kind of a hobby of mine to observe everyone and figure out things before anyone else does.” She told them with a smirk. “I don’t like to be the last to know, and it’s even better when I know things before Stark because he hates not always figuring things out.”

“Thank you.” Y/N spoke shyly as they picked at their cuticles. “It’s nice to have a friend, if that’s what we even are.” The two shared a laugh as Nat nodded.

“We’re friends.” She told them as she stood up. “But, I would kick your ass if you hurt Wanda in any way shape or form.”

“You wouldn’t need to.” They told her, watching as she raised a brow. “I would kick my own ass if I ever did something to hurt her, no matter how small it is.” Nat smiled before she headed towards the door.

“Good.” She smiled before opening the door. “I shall see you at the briefing for our mission.” With that she left the room, Y/N remained in their spot, thinking about what Nat had just told them before deciding to get up to find Wanda. Searching her room and everywhere else they could think of before they entered the kitchen, watching as Wanda cooked as Vision helped her, Wanda laughing as Vision spoke to her, their chest tightening at the scene that played before them before deciding to head back to their room. Not realising that Wanda knew they were there, a sad look in her eye at the doorway of the kitchen before she continued her conversation with Vision.

“Are you okay, Wanda?” Vision questioned as he observed her change in mood.

“Oh, yeah.” Wanda over compensated as she continued to cook.

“I am not entirely an expert on human emotions, but I can see that you are clearly troubled by something.” He told her. “You have actually been like this since Y/N had arrived here.”

“It’s nothing.” She tried to wave him off.

“Wanda, I like to think that you and I are somewhat friends.” He spoke as he watched her actions. “And not just because of the connection with the mind stone, so I just want you to know that if ever you need to talk about anything, I am always here for you.”

“Thank you Vis.” Wanda spoke quietly, keeping her eye on the task at hand as the next few moments were filled with silence before she spoke again. “I just want to know why they wouldn’t want me to accompany them on their last job on this list, they told me it’s a dangerous one and that they need a team.” She slammed the wooden spoon down as she continued. “I have my powers, I am in control and I will help more so than any of the trained SHIELD agents Fury will assign.”

“Maybe they’re just thinking about your safety.” He reasoned with her. “I understand that they have always wanted to keep you safe, as from the stories you have told me.”

“But I need to think about their safety too.” Wanda told him. “I can’t go through losing them, not again, I’m not strong enough.”

“You are stronger than you think Wanda.” Vision told her before the two carried on with their task.

As the days went on leading up to the mission, Y/N had tried their hardest to avoid both Wanda and Vision, after witnessing their interaction in the kitchen as they both cooked, but as they were getting their gear all set, secretly hoping for Wanda to come to see them off, but she had had the same idea as them.

“All set?” Nat questioned as they approached the car, getting in the passenger seat without another word.

“So, does everyone understand what the plan is?” Y/N asked her, ignoring her observing glance.

“They do, no one comes out alive.” She informed them, watching from the corner of her eye as they nodded. “Are you going to be okay?” She asked them as she drove towards their destination.

“Yeah.” They told her bluntly.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause it seems like you have your knickers stuck up your ass right now.” She told them, making them look over at her.

“I am sure.” They told her. “And for the record, I wear boxers. Knickers would strangle my bollocks.”

“I didn’t want to know that!” She exclaimed with disgust on her face, making Y/N chuckle as they approached the rendezvous point for their mission. Seeing the team of agents who were assigned along with Maria and Clint who were both ready to complete the mission. “But, we’ll get this bastard.” She told them as they got themselves ready, placing their mask over their head before exiting the car with her, weapons in arms as they approached the others. Maria was going over the plan once more, making sure that everyone knew their positions and the goal of this mission before they all made their way to infiltrate the fortress. Clint being their eyes from high above, alerting them all on comms of when they had come across an enemy, ready to take them down.

Both Y/N and Nat were making their way swiftly through the halls, shooting anyone who was a threat to either of them, heading straight towards Theodore’s room. Y/N had one goal in mind and that was to completely disable any chance of Hydra being reborn. As the air was filled with the sound of gunshots and yelling, both Nat and Y/N had approached the door to Theodore’s room, Y/N had signaled for Nat to breach the door, throwing in a flashbang before Y/N had entered the room, shooting anyone who was armed in the process before their eyes found Theodore, who had a gun raised at them.

“What do you want from me?” He questioned as he had aimed his weapon at Y/N’s head.

“This.” Y/N answered bluntly before pulling the trigger, watching as he dropped to the ground as Nat followed behind them.

“Looks like you didn’t need to buddied-up after all.” She smirked as they turned to face her. “You practically cleared this room on your own.”

“I like to be efficient.” They told her as they moved to exit the room, looking behind her as they watched one of Theodore’s men enter the hall, their gun raised as Y/N moved to push Nat to the side before shooting him themselves.

“What was.” Nat started before she turned to watch as Y/N fell to their knees, holding onto their stomach before she moved to them. “We need a medevac now! Theodore’s room, Y/N’s been shot.” She spoke through her comms as she soon put pressure on their wound. “Be careful, they’re using diamond tipped bullets!” She told them as she tried to keep pressure on their wound. “You’re going to be okay.” She tried to reassure them, listening as the gunfire was starting to die down.

“Nat!” Maria yelled as she ran through the hall towards them.

“It’s bad.” Nat told her, watching as Y/N was slipping out of consciousness. “Really bad.”

“It’s going to be okay.” Maria told her. “We have a chopper ETA 5.”

“But.” Nat tried again as Maria shook her head.

“Trust me, they have survived worse than this.” She reassured her. “We’re going to get them to Dr Cho and you know yourself she is the best.” Nat nodded as she kept pressure on the wound.

“Y/N?” She called out as she noticed their eyes closing. “Y/N?” As she kept calling their name, more agents and medics had arrived, Maria moving her to allow them to do their work as they lifted Y/N onto the gurney.

“Come on.” Maria pulled Nat with her, heading straight towards their car and heading straight towards SHIELD HQ. “Since when do you care about them?” Maria questioned as she drove, Nat’s eyes remained on her hands which were covered in Y/N’s blood.

“I uh, we’re friends.” Nat told her honestly, diverting her gaze towards the road ahead as Maria sped through traffic. “But they saved me.”

“What?” Maria questioned.

“They uh, they pushed me out of the way.” She mumbled, her eyes going back to her hands. “I wasn’t paying attention behind me, and Clint never warned us of any other assailants. He should have informed us, he was informing the rest of you. I heard him on comms.”

“What?” Maria questioned, her brow furrowed as she thought for a moment. “He had the drone monitor. Do you think it was deliberate?” She questioned as Nat thought for a moment.

“He wouldn’t have been able to tell who was me or Y/N on the monitor.” Nat responded thoughtfully. “Do you think it was deliberate?” She questioned as Maria shrugged.

“I don’t know, but I will find out when we get back to HQ.” She answered firmly, wanting to get to the bottom of it.

[faggotbeloved]

Cold Metal Biting Soft Flesh | Yandere!Curly x Captain!M!Reader

1: Sanitized (~1k words)

Cw: Canon typical violence, my headcannons for post-crash Curly's wounds, no beta we close our eyes, body horror, lots of painkillers

This work does not contain smut but is 18+. Minors and fem-aligned people, please do not interact. AN at the end.

└───────────────────────┘

It had been only a few hours after saving a man from a three decade old craft when you’d determined that he was going to be under your primary care, aside from medical, from now on.

The man, as you’d discovered, was in fact the captain of the Tulpar. Upon inspection of his wounds, which only occurred back at the ship and with him sedated, Rhodes discovered the harrowing truth that he’d been in a state of third degree full-body burns for over four months. Worse still, he had one half-functional eye with the eyelid burnt shut though the other was severely dry, eyelidless, but still in surprisingly good condition.

Immediately, Rhodes ordered someone to get the passenger’s company issued bio-fabricator, a critical technology with the ability to take biological elements and grow genetically similar (but not identical) copies.

Technically, it was reserved for creating more plants or animals in a biosphere lacking most of the required succession elements, but it’d be easy to grow supplemental skin, hair, and blood to perfectly match the burnt man’s body. He also ordered silver sulfadiazine cream to soothe the initial burns, and for the first time since the man was in the accident he seemed to not be in agony.

──────────────────────

You sat beside the man. He still had his tongue and vocal cords, so he could talk (with much effort), but he was fully deaf so you had a captioning machine set up for him to read your words. Once he awoke, you silently showed him your badge with your name, picture, and title, which he read and nodded once he was done.

“Are you able to talk, sir? We need your name,” you said softly, watching as your head doctor, Rhodes, finally replaced the sticky, deteriorating bandages that practically cemented to his raw flesh. Luckily, the man was unable to feel it with how numb his entire body was.

He nodded weakly, eye never straying from you for long, and coughed. He spat up blood and saliva, to which you gently swiped a rag across his chin to remove it. “It’s okay. Take your time. This is Rhodes, he’s your doctor for now, but one of the passengers here is also a cosmetic surgeon and can start skin grafts once you’re ready.”

You sat back to give the man some space and idly wondered if the bio-fabricator could make enough connective tissues, nerves, and muscles to give him back his limbs. Rhodes left after replacing his arms and legs bandages, and soon the man tapped your resting hand with one of his handless arms and you looked back at him.

“C…url…y,” he rasped out. His volume was lacking, but he couldn’t hear himself so it was to be excpected.

“Curly? Is that your name?”

He nodded weakly. You spoke again, “Curly. Okay, and can you answer a couple questions for me? Shake or nod your head, if you can’t talk.”

Curly nodded, and you began questions. “Were you the captain of the freighter I found you on?” Nod. “Were there exactly five people, counting you?” Nod. “Did the crash do this to you?” Nod.

“Was the crash on purpose?”

He hesitated, then nodded very minutely.

“Did you–” you were cut off. “Jim…my,” he croaked. Well, it sounded more like ‘Jenny’ on account of his lack of lips, but you got the gist. “Jimmy crashed the ship?” Nod. “Did the crew know that?” Shake.

“Shit.” Nod. You chuckled at the nod and he looked up, like he was proud of making you laugh.

“So… do you have your ID with you?” you asked, and he produced a fresh ID from a lanyard under his gown. “Huh. Did Jimmy put that on you?” You asked, to which he nodded. “Was he your friend?” A weak nod. “Do you know why he went batshit? I mean, he’s the only one who could have killed all of your crewmates.” Curly tilted his head like he was wondering what you were asking. You rambled too fast for the machine to pick up. “Oh, yeah. Do you know of a motive?” Shake.

You glanced from the ID card to his face. There’s no mistaking those eyes. You notice there’s something written on the back, but the handwriting is awful. “Um, it looks like Jimmy tried to give me instructions and told a five year old scribe. Can you decipher this?” You asked, showing him the text. Shake. “Fine, I guess. It’s good you have this, facial reconstruction can probably get you pretty close to your face from then.”

He shrugged and laid back, gazing at you. “Wait…” he gasped. “‘lease.” Please.

“Yeah?”

“Stay?” He pleaded, using what remained of his forearm to lock around your arm and keep you (only barely) in place. “’m… s…cared."

“Scared?” You echoed, settling back into your chair and placing a hand on his thigh. “You’re safe here. Everyone who goes in and out of here has high clearance and I know them all personally.” Even still, Curly shook his head. “‘lease,” he echoed.

“I… suppose I could get Sealegs to move my desk into here. Would that be good?” Nod. Nod. Nod. “This is Captain to Sealegs, Sealegs, do you copy?”

“I copy. Whatcha need?” Sealegs hummed. The sound of a familiar video game caught your attention.

“Quit playing Snake on government computers, first of all. Wheel my workbench to the medbay,” you requested, only endearingly annoyed at your nephew. After a few minutes, a young boy with the same eyes and hair as you came in with a rolling desk equipped with robotics equipment, soldering items, and more. Curly seemed to relax once you situated beside him and the two of you slipped into a comfortable silence.

“Hey, Curly, can I take some measurements of you?” You asked after a couple minutes. “Arms and legs,” you added. Nod. Curly lifted up a handless arm and waited for you to start, to which you took diameter and circumference of his arm, approximate length, shape of the amputation, and more. You did the same for the other arm and both legs, then you sat back down to work.

──────────────────────

In a few minutes, you put your higher education to use and attached a crude prosthetic to his leg, but since he was numbed to hell it wasn’t causing him any pain. You worked, he watched, and soon he fell asleep painlessly for the first time in probably a half of a year or so, for him at least.

Once he stopped coughing every time you looked away for too long, you were able to get some work done and sent off an update to your boss–you told him that you had a new crew member on board, that you authorized the use of the bio-fabricator, and that you’d pay for his medical costs. Of course, you wouldn’t tell Curly that. Feeling indebted to someone is a terrible thing.

You were in for a long night. You wanted to give him the most mobility possible, but it’d be up to him ultimately to use them. The least you could do is build him the choice.

┌───────────────────────┐

I’m not happy with this, but if I didn’t get it out now it’d rot forever :( thank you to everyone who’s left kind words and reblogs and likes!! It means so much and if youve left any asks I’m so sorry but tumblr SAYS i have 6 asks but none show up :(((

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

What would happen if Galadriel joined Sauron?

Many think he would make a slave out of her, or something of that sort. But is that what would really happen?

Tolkien sort of answered to that on his Letter 246, when discussing the Three Elven ring-bearers (Galadriel, Elrond and Gandalf) in connection with them taking the One ring for themselves:

It appears that Galadriel conceived of herself as capable of wielding the Ring and supplanting the Dark Lord. […] Galadriel would have proceeded in the policy now adopted by Sauron: [she] would have built up an empire with great and absolutely subservient generals and armies and engines of war, until [she] could challenge Sauron and destroy him by force.  

Galadriel would be worse than Sauron, in the long run. Because, according to Tolkien, Galadriel would be Sauron 2.0., and she would follow the “Saruman route”: she would join Sauron conspiring to replace him and take his power for herself.

Which is pretty much what she says in “Fellowship of the Ring” book:

“And now at last it comes. You will give me the Ring freely! In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night! Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning! Stronger than the foundations of the earth. All shall love me and despair!

She lifted up her hand and from the ring that she wore there issued a great light that illumined her alone and left all else dark. She stood before Frodo seeming now tall beyond measurement, and beautiful beyond enduring, terrible and worshipful.

And this could go both ways: either Sauron would want her as Queen, or as a servant. She would try to take his place, all the same.

Anyway, with them blood bond together, Sauron would give her his power, and turn her into a Goddess. Since he was created as a Maia, and needs to serve a Vala, he can’t escape his own submissive nature. And, so, Sauron wouldn’t sideline Galadriel, quite the opposite. And in the long run, their dynamic would return to what it was in Season 1, no matter his intentions; because Galadriel is a natural born leader, while Sauron is a natural born follower.

And this would be absolutely terrifying. I don’t think there would be any light, there. Galadriel would be corrupted (and Sauron wouldn’t need to do much, if I’m being honest). Sauron’s power would turned her into a super-villain Dark Afrodite; she would make everyone fall in love with her (“all shall love me and despair”), her appeal maximized, irresistible and seductive. Everyone would fall at her feet, on their knees, and be slaves to her. She would get anything she wanted from everyone around her.

Don’t believe this self-deceiving evil diva; there would be no “light” involved in this.

Not sure how this would work with Sauron’s jealousy and possessiveness, though; probably he would start to resent her the same way he did with Morgoth. Galadriel would have to find a way to calm down Sauron’s obsessiveness. Because this would be wild, and the stuff of nightmares for everyone else, but them.

This would probably be Sauron all the time.

And all of this would destroy Middle-earth. Galadriel’s suitors would be going around killing each other over her. Universal warfare. And Sauron himself would probably join this fight if any of them were to cross a line with Galadriel. This would mean apocalypse. The doomsday of the simps.

[austenpoppy]

I mean. Personally I think it was a great idea to have Dick be a cop, but apart from that, why is that job more important than others Dick has had ?

First of all, there's the role it plays in the story. Dick being a cop and then being fired from the force is a very important plotpoint over many, many issues. It just lasted longer (both in-universe and out-of-universe), and we have more moments of Dick being a rookie cop than we have of Dick doing almost any other job. Bartender ? It lasted a few months when he was working for Hog. Blackjack dealer ? It was over in one or two issues, Dick was undercover and it didn't have that much significance. Exotic dancer ? It merely lasted hours, it was a way for Dick to get into a building incognito. Trapeze instructor ? A few scenes here and there were included over several issues, but overall it was more in the background. Meanwhile, there are entire issues dedicated to Dick's time as a cop - like this time he was assaulted then accused of murder by corrupted cops.

It also ties with the overall theme regarding Blüdhaven : unlike Gotham, Blüdhaven doesn't have a lot of psychopaths, but the corruption is rampant. Dick had to fight against dirty police officers almost as much as he had to fight against supervillains - it's significant that two of Dick's enemies, Soames and Redhorn, are corrupt cops.

As an aside, as much as I liked the way Dick managed to get his hand on Redhorn's little book, I think that from a narrative standpoint, Dick should have won against the onslaught of corruption as a cop, and not as Nightwing (even if he knew who to trust because he was Amy's partner).

Speaking of which, Amy is one of the most memorable characters Dick's ever worked with - and again, the building of their relationship, from Amy being distrustful and scornful to trusting Dick entirely to feeling betrayed then protecting him at the cost of her integrity, took months, lots of issues, and is very touching.

I like Hog (and that guy never died, damn it, he didn't live in Dick's building) - but he was barely present. Cheyenne and Shawn were above all love interests, more than coworkers (even if we can skip Cheyenne because those three issues she figured in were...weird...and forgettable). Dick's circus friends ? They have names, but they're still more background characters representing the lost childhood of Dick than actual characters with character development. Dennis ? Seemed like a nice guy, I guess ?

Third, Dick put in a lot of effort to get into the B.P.D. He had to go through the entire police academy and take tests. Museum curator ? He got the post through his personal relationships, even if he had the skills for them. Trapeze instructor ? He was noticed when he helped a kid. Circus owner ? Come on, yes, he invested his money, but it wasn't about what Dick wanted to be "when he grew up", it was about Dick keeping his past alive. Model ? An accident. Taxi driver ? First time around it was the first job offer he could find. Second time... *cough* Ric Grayson era *cough*.

Fourth, being a cop had an impact on Dick's other relationships. Bruce hated that he was a cop (for multiple reasons : he loathed the idea of Dick using a gun, was worried about him, and thought Dick was risking their secret identities). Alfred was initially supportive, but he also started to get worried. Babs hated it because she didn't want her boyfriend to risk getting killed 24/7.

And despite this, Dick remained a cop even after the corruption got brought down, in spite of his loved ones not liking him endangering himself all the time. And thus this is the fifth reason for me saying Dick being a cop has a lot more narrative significance than Dick being an exotic dancer or a bartender, Dick loved being a cop. Genuinely. It wasn't something he did because he needed a job to remain connected to people and still be Dick Grayson. It wasn't "just" an undercover job. He was ecstatic when he got hired at the B.P.D. He was happy doing it, and at one point it became more than an undercover job - though was it even a job, guys, considering he was doing it for free (that absolute madman I swear to God) ? He kept postponing the moment he'd have to resign after his "undercover" goal was achieved. He was crushed when he got fired.

You have to see, for Dick being a cop was about helping people at their lowest/learning information about people he'd be able to help as Nightwing. And Dick loves nothing more than doing that, so doing it 24/7 ? Sign him the fuck up. Like, some of Dick's most significant "cases" at the B.P.D. were about 1) stopping an act of police brutality, 2) being there to stop a domestic abuser and getting back as Nightwing to tell the guy to flee the city, or 3) getting a letter from a little girl, Kesia, who wanted Santa to help her Dad, crying, and spending the time before Christmas investigating so he'd be able to track her (and if that doesn't move you nothing will).

So yeah, Dick's time as a cop was significant. Now you don't like it ? Let Dick do something that would have the same effect. Let him be in child protection services. Let him be a nurse in the I.C.U. Let him be a firefighter.

Now I know people will say that the gym he opened at one point in the Rebirth continuity had to be something he held dear. It's not false, but I don't think he prioritized it the same way or that it was shown to be as important to him as being a cop was. At that time in that continuity, doing so was also an act of independence (considering he was younger) and of convenience (it allowed him greater flexibility to be Nightwing, something being a cop did not, at least in terms of working hours).

I'm still angry about "Dick is a cop". Thing going on.

Dick hasn't been a cop in 21 years (he stopped in 2003) He had numerous jobs since and before that and he was doing it at the time to try to fight the corruption from inside (whether that was a good idea is up to debate it wasn't in my opinion) and he was written as cop by Dixon (deregatory).

Devin Grayson continued and stopped that.

His most common job is being a barista followed up by a gym teacher.

[rontra]

tell me more about these OCs. What’s their deal. How’s life where they live. Do they have games on their phones

the 4 dipshits i drew yesterday are from one of the oldest oc settings ive got (they were minted from the forge of stupid fuckheads in the year of our lord 2011) (and i'm very mean to them<3)

so because it's so old a lot of my followers will recognize them or even be familiar with previous iterations of their story/lore... there's been like. 3 discreet incarnations of it by now. and 3.0 needs some serious aid so this might be 4.0 now. so basically things people know may or may not be canon anymore. i just go in there and sift thru the entrails like fnaf mangle when im bored its my toys

but basically they live in chess world. and they all hate it. and life is bad. because of the Forever War. we should put a stop to that. but the Powers That Be are very picky about the steps that need to be taken to End the Forever War so that part sucks too. also because its chess world everybody has a lil rank and title and has to go perish on the battlefield or whatever

yesterday''s posts,

these two assholes are flang (blonde) and kaitlin (has games on her phone). they're part of the group of 4 main characters with kaitlin serving as the "guy everyone gives exposition to" vehicle, because she just got here, because it's also an isekai (surprise!). so she owns a phone and has games on it but she can't use it anymore because there's no phone service in Chess World. sad!

her rank is king (she/her king W), which means she has a lot of responsibilities in a lot of areas--none of which she wants or really signed up for, but her fun new wife (the black queen) just kinda recruited her into it. in the setting, king/queen are primarily military titles, then government positions; it is not necessary to be royalty "by blood", hence these unruly (albeit rare since there can only be one of each at a time) pawn-to-queen and pawn-to-king promotions happening on the board. she also has a cursed sword that is surprisingly unrelated to all of that but it has magic powers

flang (they/she) is From chess world and has grown up in alabaster. her mother is a doctor so she is too. her rank is pawn. she has a lot of issues and almost all of them are because alabaster sucks ass to live in if you're even like 1% outside of what alabaster considers Proper. it's a "reasonably stable and reasonably safe" kingdom to live and work in, but that safety and stability is always conditional; it's only stable and safe if you're born 100% conforming to it or discard your existing self to assimilate into it. this has made flang a very precious kind of insane that hurts them and everybody around them all of the time. but it can be repaired by defecting from the country, scaring their family, getting a fun haircut, almost succumbing to a fever, and finally the tender touch of a lesbian who has games on her phone

the other two people in the Main 4 are aster (kaitlin's wife, queen) and erin (the other queen) and are NOT the people i drew yesterday (BDHJBGS)

this is aster and erin 👇

you can tell because they have the look of 2 people who have been ruining each other for like a decade now and arent gonna stop until they change or die

aster (she/they) is trying to kill the white king for Revenge Reasons and ending the forever war is just like a cool side effect for her. she's the one who got kaitlin into all of this mess which is complicated because on the one hand, she got kaitlin into all of this mess and is trying to strongarm her into doing things she absolutely doesn't want to do (like killing people). on the other hand though, being roped into all of this mess did pretty directly save kaitlin's life in the first place and somehow loops back around to improving her mental health in the long run. so who's to say whether big murder plots that only you like and want are bad to do or not

erin (she/her) is normal about that freak^ but is in a very bad position because aster getting kaitlin on the board and starting their big dumb plan is a very clear signal to erin that aster has already won, long before anyone else thinks that. erin doesn't really gaf about the white king but she has other things she cares about and is willing to die to protect. to erin, aster's victory means she's on borrowed time and it won't be long before aster will go Through Her to get what they want. there's a confrontation on the horizon where erin fully believes one of them will kill the other one. but also they're like in love. but also erin has way better gfs available. you understand

the two other bitches i drew yesterday are NOT in the main 4 theyre just some other freaks . this is zarni (short hair) and fal (blonde) 👇

faolan (she/her) is the white queen's bishop which means she's the piece closest to the queen--basically shes erin's right hand arm man. she's erin everything. her confidant. her best friend. her silly rabbit. (is that what erin calls her?) no.

fal WANTS to be all of those things and has a weird crush on the queen but erin never lets anybody in and that includes fal. but basically faolan is the bitch who's always in it for Rank And Power and has climbed as high as she can and is still vying for erin's personal approval and acknowledgement because nothing's ever enough for her. she sucks to hang out with and almost dies very badly but zarni has her back

zarni (she/her) isnt actually from either kingdom she's with the unrelated third party pirate faction that mostly keeps to itself and has its own squabbles and drama that doesn't really have anything to do with the Forever War. an outlaw... a GRIMINAL... she met faolan way back when fal was much lower rank than she is now. fal was escorting her to the capital to receive basically a slap on the wrist for doing crimes in alabaster territory and they kinda hit it off in a weird way. right now zarni is technically like. fal's hired muscle. her right hand arm man (henchman edition). but for zarni it mostly doubles as a convenient way to have free passage into and within alabaster, for her own sidequest reasons. she ends up saving fal's stupid life because unfortunately they care about each other now and it's embarrassing for everyone. but maybe it'll distract faolan from looking at erin just long enough for her to realize she needs a big strong woman to carry her off into the sunset and build her a cottage where she can fucking retire already. or something. one can dream

anyway that's the people i drew yesterday (and the 2 in the middle that i didnt even draw but i would feel neglectful if i didnt mention). ssorry for the long post i just love talking about my ocs and these ones are 13 years old so talking about them comes Very Easily To Me MDJBSBJGS

i skimped on details just to get thru the tl;dr basics but i hope it was at least entertaining (and if anyone has more questions after this i dont mind i know i skipped a lot HDHBJG)

to me this is an oc setting entirely populated by stupid assholes who are constantly ruining at least 1 other character's life in some way. and that's how they all save each other. and that's beautiful. godbless our beautiful gay chess soldiers

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 2 (Evan Buckley x Reader) (Eventual Buddie x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1

A/N: This is such a niche story and I am desperate for validation, please tell me if you enjoyed reading! Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: descriptions of gun violence, mental health issues/suicide ideation (nothing overly graphic IMO)

Unlike some people who work in this building, you know how to take orders. So, instead of dragging your feet and prolonging the inevitable, you go to Bobby’s office the second you get back from the call. Hen tries to say something to you, but you’re so focused on having this conversation behind you that you ignore her. 

Despite the door being cracked open, you knock a few times. 

“Come in,”  Bobby says. 

You step in. He looks up. 

“Ah,” he remarks as if it’s a surprise to see you. “You can close the door behind you.” 

You close the door and lean against it. 

“Have a seat,” Bobby instructs as he files through some random papers. 

You let out a sigh. You were hoping to be in and out, but Bobby clearly has other ideas. Still, you do as you’re told. 

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened with Buck.”

As if you’d be in here for anything else. 

“Are you gonna write me up?” You ask instinctually. You’ve never been formally disciplined, so the question is gnawing at you. 

“Buck wants me to.”

You snort. “Buck wants a lot of things; most children do.”

“You’re a year younger than him,” Bobby points out. 

It’s true—Buck is 26, and you’re 25. But in this context especially, age is just a number. You’re a 25-year-old advanced practice paramedic with 3 years of experience who acts their age. Buck is a 26-year-old firefighter in his probationary period who acts like a frat boy.

“Are you going to write me up?” You repeat. 

Bobby gives you a look, then sighs with a crooked smile. “No. But if you do anything like that again, you’ll be hearing from me and Sergeant Grant.” 

“Fair enough,” you cede. 

There are a few silent beats in the conversation. This is why Bobby made you sit—he has more to say. 

“Why does he bother you so much?” Bobby asks.

“Literally everything I told him: he’s wreckless and he’s gonna get someone killed if he doesn’t change.” 

“So why not teach him to do better, to be better?”

“Trust me, Cap, I’ve tried,” you chuckle. “I mean, even earlier today, I taught him how to clear an obstruction in a neonatal airway. And honestly? For a few minutes, when he was running down the stairs with that baby in his arms, I thought, ‘Hey, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.’ And then he yells at Sergeant Grant, and he proves me wrong. Again.” 

“I’m talking to him and Sergeant Grant about how everything went down,” Bobby says. 

“I’m not telling you that to get him in trouble, I just…” You take a deep breath through your nose and let it out as a sigh. “It felt like no one was holding him accountable. And I’ve tried playing nice, and I’ve tried teaching him, and he still had the nerve to pretend that he can play god. And I just… lost it, and thought that maybe if I treat him like a man would, he would finally listen to me.”

Bobby nods, taking in everything you’ve said.  

“You think I don’t hold him accountable?” He eventually asks. 

You let out another sigh. “If Buck worked under any other LAFD Captain, they would have canned his ass about three months ago.”

“But is that the right thing to do?” Bobby counters. “This job is tough, and it isn’t something that can be taught overnight. Buck has potential—he could be an invaluable asset some day.”

“Is firing him the right call? Honestly, Bobby, I have no idea,” you admit. “But if people have to get hurt in order for Buck to be good at his job, then it isn’t worth the price.” 

Bobby ended up firing Buck a few days later. It wasn’t for what happened with Sergeant Grant; it was because, apparently, Bobby caught him having sex with some girl on a roof. He used one of the fire trucks to drive there. The moron didn’t realize they have GPS trackers. You got all of this information in a text from Hen. 

You turn the corner to the locker room, planning to put away your keys and wallet before starting your shift like you always do. You didn’t expect to see Buck sitting on the bench in front of the lockers. 

You plan on opening your locker, throwing your stuff in it, and leaving before Buck can say anything. The second you lift the lever, though, Buck turns his head towards you. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you definitely aren‘t going to break the silence. 

“So you heard, huh?” Buck says. 

You close your locker and spin the lock to scramble it. “Yeah, I did.” 

“Aren’t you going to say anything else?” 

“Tough break. Sorry, man,” you say with a shrug. You turn on your heel to leave.

“That’s it?” Buck says with a laugh. “A few days ago, you were slamming me against an ambulance, and now… nothing? Aren’t you supposed to say, ‘I told you so’?”

Buck doesn’t even work at the 118 anymore, and he still has a way of getting under your skin. You close your eyes, hoping you can gain some composure before you say anything.

“I’m sorry for pushing you; that was unprofessional,” you say and make your second attempt at leaving.

“But that’s all you're sorry for,” Buck says, rising to his feet. 

You turn around and eye him from head to toe. His chest isn’t puffed out in that hypermasculine way it normally is. Buck shifts his weight between feet, and when the pressure of your stare becomes too much, he breaks eye contact. 

“It’s like Sergeant Grant said: I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” you eventually reply.

“Then say it: you’re happy to see me go.”

Jesus Christ, he can be such a baby. 

“Okay, fine, you wanna go there?” you retort, taking a step forward. “You wanna know the worst thing about you, Buck?” 

He just looks at you. 

“You. You’re the worst thing about you. Because you could’ve been good. You’ve got decent skills, and you have heart, but you have no discipline. You can’t take orders, and you can’t look at a woman for more than thirty seconds without having sex with her. You’re a 16-year-old boy trapped in a 26-year-old man’s body, and ever since you started, you haven’t done anything to change it. You get in your own way and are too busy flirting or running your mouth to even realize it.”

You take another step towards him to ensure he hears what you’re about to say. “You could’ve been good. And I hope that shit haunts you. Because maybe, it’ll finally make you grow up.”

You start to make your exit again but linger in the doorway. You turn back around; there’s one more thing you want to say.

“I’m not happy to see you go, Evan. In fact, I was really hoping you would prove me wrong.”

And with that, you’re gone. 

You and Hen go out on a ‘shortness of breath’ call that ends up being a STEMI — a heart attack. You get him to the nearest hospital in five minutes, and if they can get him to the cath lab, he has a really good shot at surviving it. The patient’s wife hugs both you and Hen, thanking the two of you for doing such a wonderful job. You savor the feeling; most calls don’t end this way. 

When you pull into the station, there’s an engine missing. At first, you think it’s no big deal: the boys are probably out on a fire call. Then you see Bobby standing where the engine’s supposed to be.

“What’s going on, Cap?” Hen asks as she closes the door to the rig. 

“There’s an engine missing.”

“Yeah, clearly,” you chuckle. 

“There were reports of a residential break-in on Lambert Street in Winnetka,” Bobby continues. 

“Damn,” Hen whistles. 

You both heard something about that over the scanner on your drive back to the station; there was a suspected hostage, a young girl. Last you heard, the subject was trying to flee by motorcycle. 

“All of the 118 firemen are accounted for,” Bobby concludes.

You and Hen share a look. Who has a track record of borrowing engines without permission?

The truck pulls up and slowly backs into the garage. You catch a glimpse of the driver in one of the rearview mirrors. 

“Pretty Boy,” you say simply. 

Buck steps out of the truck, still wearing the jeans and long-sleeved grey shirt you last saw him in. “I know what this looks like.”

“Looks like you took the engine out in your street clothes,” Bobby says as he approaches the younger man. 

“I didn't really have time to change,” Buck counters. He doesn’t say it in his normal cocky tone, though. Frankly, he looks nervous. 

“Athena Grant called me, wanted to tell me what an asset you are.” Bobby continues. “Told her she was half right.”

Buck frowns. “Are you giving me another chance?” 

“You’ve used all your chances; so have I,” Bobby says, “because somehow I have failed to communicate to you how lucky we are to do what we do.”

Bobby starts to walk away, but Buck isn’t letting him get away that easy. 

“You're wrong, Bobby. I absolutely do get what a privilege it is to serve here,” Buck says, “and you know what? You were right to fire me.”

That makes Bobby stop dead in his tracks.

“I was a punk,” Buck continues, “still am one. But I'm a punk who understands what he lost. Just… needed you to know that.”

“I hope you mean that. Now go get dressed.” 

Buck stands cluelessly for a second, then turns to you and Hen. “I think I’m not fired.” 

“Your shift’s not over yet,” Hen points out. 

You go to follow her, but Buck stops you by calling your name. 

“I just wanted to tell you, uh…” Buck says, wringing his hands together. “I’m gonna prove you wrong.”

Normally, words like that coming out of his mouth would set your skin on fire. Between the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, though, something in your gut tells you to hear him out. 

“Yeah?” You ask simply, waiting for him to elaborate. 

“Some day, I’ll be good,” he says, “but until then, I’ll be better.”

Buck extends a hand for you to shake. It’s the most chivalrous thing you’ve seen him do since you met him. You look at his hand, then at his eyes. There isn’t a trace of humor in his gaze. You take his hand and shake it. 

“I look forward to seeing it.”

Your first call of the shift is to an amusement park where one of the rides malfunctioned. A rider was thrown from the ride as it was moving, and it sounds like he’ll be DOA. When the operator deployed the emergency breaks, though, it meant the rest of the train stopped at the top of a loop, which one rider is now dangling out of. 

Buck is the first to volunteer to climb the ladder and harness the passenger. You’re not surprised. He’s grown a lot in the last few weeks, but he still jumps at every exciting opportunity, no matter how dangerous it may be. Maybe that’s just how Buck is. 

“Hey, he’s asking about his friend,” Buck radios once he’s at the top. 

“Chimney, how’s the kid on the ground?” Bobby radios. 

You look up and shake your head. 

“We lost him,” Chim radios back. 

“All right, I don't need the people up there seeing that. So, do me a favor... He survived, right? Get him on a gurney. You know the drill,” Bobby instructs.

“Copy that,” Chim replies. 

Once you and Chimney get him on the gurney and out of everyone’s sight, you look up at Buck. 

“Come on,” Chimney mutters encouragingly. “Come on, Buck.” 

After a painfully long minute, you see the man’s grasp on the rollercoaster falter. Then, you watch him let go. You close your eyes before you see him hit the ground, but the sound will echo off of your eardrums for a while. 

You go the rest of the night without seeing Buck; you don’t share another call, and when you’re not out in the field, you’re asleep in the bunks. It’ll probably kill you in the long run, but these days, you learn to sleep whenever and wherever you can. 

When you wake up for morning report and breakfast, Buck is already sitting at the table. You wipe the sleep out of your eyes and get a cup of coffee before sitting across from him. 

Bobby was nice enough to make breakfast; he knows how hard these calls are. No matter how many you get, it’ll never get easier. 

Bobby sets a plate in front of Buck. 

“I’m not hungry,” he says almost instantaneously. 

“This is America, Buckaroo,” Chim replies as he sets some silverware on the table. “Eating has nothing to do with being hungry.

“Man, I was right there. You know, all he had to do was reach up and grab my hand,” Buck says instead.

“People do funny things at times like that,” you offer, sipping your drink. “ Sometimes they just freeze up.”

“I’ve never lost anyone before,” Buck says quietly. He looks up at you. “Does it get any easier?” 

Bobby answers for you. “No.” 

“Look, people die, and that’s part of the gig, right?” Chim says as he sits next to you. “See, your problem is, you're looking at every job like it's a long-term relationship. They're one-night stands, man. In that moment, they mean everything to you, but once the morning comes... it's on to the next one.”

“How silly of me to think you’d say something productive,” you roll your eyes.

Chim furrows his brows. “What?”

“You’re such a man,” you say to Chim, then turn to Buck. “Look, dude, we all go through it, and you just have to figure out a way to deal with it,.” You pause. “You know why we wear these uniforms?”

“Sex appeal?” Chim answers, which earns him a quick kick to the shin from you. 

“So people can easily identify us,” Buck responds. 

“That’s true, but… I don’t know, I like to think it’s because when we take it off, we can leave it all behind us. Right now, you’re firefighter Buckley, but when your shift is over, you’re Buck. It just… symbolizes letting go, I guess.”

“I see his face every time I close my eyes,” Buck says. “Does that happen to you?” 

“It’ll pass,” you promise. 

“And if it doesn’t?”

You stare at Buck for a moment. It’s hard to imagine that this is the same man who mouthed off to a police Sergeant mere weeks ago. 

“Then you talk someone,” you eventually say. “A friend, a therapist, a bartender… you find a way to let it out, and then you let it go.”

 

Once again, you don’t see Buck for hours. You heard on the scanner that the 118 responded to several rescue calls, none requiring an RA unit. You spent the rest of your shift bouncing from call to call and ER to ER, seeing everything from stab wounds to childbirth. It’s shifts like this that remind you why you do what you do. It’s chaotic, stressful, and bloody, but it is fun. After a certain point, you don’t even have to use your brain; the adrenaline in your veins kicks your brain into autopilot, and your pounding heart is just along for the ride. 

You step into the communal locker room, completely exhausted. You still have to change, and considering everything you’ve witnessed, you should probably shower too. Most of all, you want to go home and crawl into your bed. 

Buck is sitting on the bench in the locker room, similar to how he was a few weeks ago after he was ‘fired.’ Just like you, he’s still wearing his uniform. His head is bowed between his shoulders as his elbows rest on his knees. This time, his head doesn’t perk up when you open your locker. 

“I heard you used The Manuever today,” you spark the conversation. “Nice save.”

Buck finally looks up and then chuckles quietly. “Yeah, if only I could’ve done that a few days ago.” 

You take a seat next to him. “Still thinking about Devon, huh?” 

“I’m trying not to, I just…” Buck says, then cuts himself off as he shakes his head. 

“It’s easier said than done,” you conclude. 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah,” you agree. 

Both of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments. You open your mouth a few times only to close it. You don’t want to tell this story; you hate even thinking about it. But if you’re going to sit here and tell Buck that he has to let things go, you have to do the same. It’s only fair. 

“The first person I lost… her name was Katherine Vanec. She was 17 years old, wearing a University of Washington shirt, white shorts, and black Converse High Tops. We got a call from her mother, who was at work when she started getting strange texts from Katherine. It was supposed to be a welfare check, and when the cops got there, they found her locked in her bedroom. When fire and rescue broke down the door, she had a .22 caliber revolver pressed to her temple.”

“Jesus,” Buck mutters. 

“Katherine had a history of Borderline Personality Disorder and suicidal ideation. She figured out that her high school sweetheart had been cheating on her for almost a year. They made plans together, I guess — they were gonna go to the same school, find a place off-campus to live together. He pulled the rug right out from under her, and she couldn’t take it.”

“So what happened?”

You smile sadly. “By the time we arrived, a negotiator had been talking to her for almost ten minutes. They thought she was in a good spot that all she had to do was put the gun down, and we would swoop in and 5150 her.”

“Involuntary admission,” Buck says. 

“Yeah,” you confirm. “That didn’t happen. When the negotiator asked her to set the gun down, she lost it. She kept talking about how every time before, she chickened out, and she couldn’t let that happen again. She turned the gun on us.”

“Suicide by cop.”

You nod as a few tears well in your eyes. Even all these years later, that case haunts you. “Her finger wasn’t near the trigger; she didn’t want to hurt anyone. She just didn’t want to be alive anymore, and she couldn’t think of another way out. I can still hear the sound of the bullets tearing through her.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Buck asks softly. 

You wipe at your eyes and clear your throat. “Let it out and let it go,” you answer, then nudge his shoulder with yours. “Your turn.” 

Buck smiles; the expression is bittersweet. “I keep replaying what happened. I can’t shake this feeling that there’s something else I could’ve done. Maybe I could have grabbed his arm, or maybe there’s something I could’ve said differently.”

“Or maybe, no matter what you did, it was always going to end that way,” you suggest quietly. “Maybe he felt the same way Katherine did—like he had no other way out. We can try to rescue people, but we can’t make them want to be alive. Some people just don’t want to be saved, Buck.” 

“That really sucks.”

You laugh. “Yeah, it does. I guess that’s why we have each other; it makes it suck a little less.” 

“‘Each other’ as in you and me?” Buck asks in a lighthearted tone. 

You roll your eyes, but secretly, you’re thankful for the change of pace. “‘Each other’ as in the 118, which technically includes you and me.” 

“Sounds like a copout.” 

You laugh and clap a hand on Buck’s shoulder before standing. “Have a good night, Buck.”

You make it to the doorway before he says your name. You look back at him. 

“Thank you,” he says softly. 

You bite your lip, but it isn’t enough to conceal your smile. “Anytime.” 

[moontyun]

Pairing: Yeosang x reader Word Count: 925 Genre: fluff, attempted humor, friends to lovers Warning(s): swearing Synopsis: Friendships came and went as time wore on but you were always someone constant for him. Someone who unwaveringly stood beside him. Someone he grew to depend on and care for deeply.

Feisty

A gentle breeze swept through the trees as it continued to pour down on the tent. All three of you had huddled inside and watched the cold rain touch everything in sight. It was freezing and there wasn’t anything to do other than to just watch the day go by. Yesterday, San had said he wanted to take you guys to see the stream he had found on his walk today but it seemed the weather had other plans for you guys today. 

The temperature continued to drop, the colder it got, the more you needed heavier weighted blankets. “Hot chocolate would be really good right now.” You had turned around on your back looking back and forth between the two boys, hoping one of them would get the hint and make you some. 

San was completely confused, “How do you expect to have hot chocolate when we can’t even keep a fire going right now?” 

You pouted in response, “I was hoping one of you would figure something out.” 

Yeossang laughed a little at your pouting before he threw a blanket over your back, rubbing it gently, trying his best to warm you up. “I’ll make you some when the rain lets up. But until then, you’re going to have to make the blankets work.” San furrowed his brows, this was a little odd of him to do. He’d never done that for San, nor did San really expect him to. It was just weird that he was doing that for you. Never had he known Yeosang to do something like that. Something was different. He’d kept a mental note to ask about it later. Right now, was not the time to ask. 

You sighed, “Should we play cards or something?” 

“Did you bring any?” San was thoroughly convinced you didn’t have any considering the recent silly question you asked.

“Yes, smart ass. I brought a deck.” You sat up and began ruffling through your backpack. You pulled them out, “See? I brought them! Don't doubt me.” 

San rolled his eyes, “I have to. Sometimes you lack common sense.” You glared at him. He was being catty just because of his own situation and he had been for the past two or three days. It was starting to get on your last nerve. It wasn't your fault he chose a crappy person, why were you getting the brunt of the attitude?

Yeosang cleared his throat, trying to get your attention. “Okay, instead of trying to kill each other, let's just play a friendly couple rounds of cards.” 

After a few rounds of San losing and getting his ass handed to him, the rain had finally stopped, the fire crackled as the two of them sat by the fire with you asleep, bundled up warmly. San watched as Yeosang played with the burnt pieces of firewood with a stick he'd found. The night was peaceful, a good end to such a long and dreary day. Crickets chirped announcing their presence, wolves howling somewhere far off. Owls hooting away, peaceful. 

San's intuition was nagging at him. It had been since the whole back rubbing incident today. San had been watching Yeosang the whole day. How he responded to you, how he looked out for you, how he took care of you. It was starting to become clear to him that there was definitely something more between the two of you. The little flirtatious comments towards one another was a little more than what his bond with Yeosang allowed. They seemed less like a bromance and more like a genuine attraction toward one another. 

San had been debating bringing it up for the past 20 minutes, it was starting to get on his nerves just thinking about it. He wasn’t sure if the two of you had always been just a flirty duo or if he was just imagining things because of his recent issues. He figured since you were asleep and it was just the two of them out here, he might as well ask. What was the worst that could happen? “Do you like [name]?” He flat out asked, no skirting around the issue, no sugar coating it, nothing. Just flat out asked.

Yeosang was taken aback by the sudden question. If his face wasn’t already red, it would have been now. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds but continued to play with the charred wood in the fireplace. “No! What makes you say that?” He half shouted before he realized he was being too loud. 

San quirked his brow, Yeosang was being defensive about something so silly, “So you do?” He readjusted himself and watched how Yeosang was squirming around with the question. 

“No. Couldn't be farther from the truth.”  Yeosang was getting oddly defensive but San wasn't going to keep pushing it. He knew that it would just make the other extremely irritated. It was bad enough they were all out here for his mental healing. “Are you feeling any better after lashing out all day?”

The younger man was slightly annoyed with the question. It wasn't like he was lashing out intentionally, it just happened given his whole situation he's in right now, “Honestly or do you want the sugar coated answer?” 

“Sugar coated.” 

“Fantastic!” 

Yeosang chuckled a little, “You'll be okay. It sucks right now, but you'll be okay.” Patting his friend's back as he continued to play with the torched embers. San was confused, Yeosang was never this touchy. Maybe he was trying to cover something up.

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[sardonictxt]

Food is so much work, I’m so over eating. I wish I could survive without it.

[cream-and-tea]

oh pallas and agnes power dynamic you really are SO unbelievably fucked,,,,,

[fromtheseventhhell]

Do you ever think about how Arya being left-handed most likely had an impact on her needlework and other tasks? And how she needed special attention not only because she wasn't as naturally gifted as her sister but because the way she was being taught fundamentally didn't work for her? And how instead of being given the attention she needed she was instead held to an unfair standard by her teacher and used as a measure for bad behavior? And how this all impacted her self-esteem and her views on being a Lady?

[quietwingsinthesky]

there’s a progression in there, somewhere, of even going from ‘the master might kill me any day now :(‘ to ‘the master is going to kill me :) she’s not going to let someone else do it after all this time’

[amatsuchan-eiliniel]

Quick vent in tags, you're not forced to read.

Minors beware, that's not really important but be careful with other's vents and your own mental health.

[heyitslapis]

I dont think yall know just how fucking much i have to reserve myself when i text them

[lorillee]

like its actually so joever

[tardis--dreams]

Some of those doctors make hating oat milk their entire personality. I hate them. Cannot pretend to find them funny or like i give a shit. Fucking pretentious assholes