#still need to make leaves and other bullshit

[autumnscribbles]

take care of you | rc

pairing: mommyissues!rafe x pogue!reader

summary: after a heated argument with ward, rafe seeks comfort from the only woman in his life who’s ever stayed

warnings: wee bit of theorizing about mama cameron (death)

wc: 1.8k

a/n: hey friends!! thank you to the anon that sent this request in!! i love me a soft rafe moment who just needs to be held🥹 enjoy!! feel free to send me more angsty/soft rafe i love it!!!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

Rafe slammed the truck door shut behind him, twisting his key into the ignition. Ward stood in the doorway ahead of him, his mouth moving but his words unheard. Rafe stopped listening to him even before he decided to leave. He couldn’t listen to it anymore. The rain pelted the windowsill, overpowering the pounding sound of his accelerated heartbeat. He pulled out of the driveway, no destination in mind. He just had to leave.

As he drove, his headlights broke through the rain ahead, illuminating the pitch black road. His breathing was still heavy, trying to ignore his fight with Ward. They weren’t exactly few and far between, but this one had escalated particularly badly. He replayed it over and over, on the verge of screaming just to make it stop.

He didn’t know why he tried to hard to impress Ward, or to get his validation. Everyone is his life left in one way or another. Whether it was on their own terms, or they were taken. He clung to Ward and the fact that just maybe, he would stick around. Be proud of him. In the end, everyone gave up on him. Everyone screwed him over.

Except maybe one person.

When Rafe first met you, he didn’t like you. He never thought he could be friends with a pogue, let alone be with one romantically. You had too much confidence for someone who didn’t have very much. He admit, he thought less of you. He judged you about things that didn’t truly matter. Eventually, he began to find you endearing. You didn’t need boats, a big house, designer clothes, or anything material to be happy. You knew who you were, and he admired that.

You understood him in ways no kook ever had, and probably more than any kook ever will. You knew hardship, and you saw through his bravado. You could tell deep down, he was in pain. No money could fix what was truly happening inside. All the other kooks were shallow. Never having any conversations with substance, just rambling about bullshit. Rafe never really fit in with any of them. He pretended to be friends with most of them, to keep up appearances and his reputation. At the end of the day, he knew none of them truly cared about him. Even worse, he knew they would mock him if they knew he was with you.

Without realizing, Rafe ended up pulling into your driveway. Through the still pouring rain, he could barely see your house. All the lights were off, including the porch light. Were you home? He didn’t even know. As his mind reeled, he automatically drove here. He wanted to see you. Wanted your comfort. Before you, he hadn’t had that in a long time. Since his mom…no one had ever been there for him. No one to tell him things would be okay, no one to comfort him, or hold him. He craved it.

He hopped out of the car, jogging through the rain to your front door. He rapped his knuckles, hoping you would appear on the other side. He saw a light turn on inside, and exhaled a sigh of relief.

You opened the door, met with a dripping wet and sad looking Rafe on the other side. You were surprised to see him. You had some distance from each other recently, since Rafe told you that his friends couldn’t know about your relationship. You pulled back as he continued to hang out with them, unsure how to move forward.

Seeing him here made your heart sink. He pouted as his blue eyes bore into yours, sadness overcoming his entire expression.

“Can I come in?” he asked. “Please.”

“Of course,” you muttered. You stepped aside, letting Rafe into your empty house.

He crossed the threshold, a shiver coming over his body at the sudden change of temperature. His wet clothes left him cold, making the warmth of your house even more shocking to his system. He wiped at his face in attempt to dry it.

“Are you cold?” you asked gently. “Here let me go get you some clothes and a blanket.”

You walked away for a moment, leaving Rafe standing in your doorway. You gathered a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that belonged to your brother. He wasn’t here, he wouldn’t mind. You snatched your fuzzy blanket from your bed, scurrying back to where Rafe stood waiting. You passed him the clothes, offering him to go change.

As he took his time, you put a kettle of water on the stove. Opening your white cabinets, you rummaged through the various flavours of tea you had. You settled on chamomile. You knew Rafe liked it, even though he would never admit it to literally anyone else. You grabbed 2 mugs and placed the tea bags inside as the kettle began whistling.

You took the two steaming mugs out to the coffee table, where Rafe sat on the couch, waiting for you.

“Here,” you muttered, handing him the mug. You grabbed the blanket, placing it across his lap. “That should warm you up.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, gentle eyes looking up at you.

You sat down beside him, tucking your legs up on the couch. You both sat in silence for a moment, sipping your tea. He let out a small sigh after his first sip, a little smile tugging at his lips.

“My favorite,” he whispered. You responded with a nod.

“You take such good care of me,” he said, breaking the silence more. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Rafe,” you sighed.

He shook his head, not wanting you to deny the truth. He didn’t want you to tell him that he deserved it when he knew it wasn’t true. You were consistently there for him, exuding a kindness he’d never felt. Yet what did he do in return? Essentially tell you he’s embarrassed about your relationship. It was ridiculous, and you shouldn’t be nice to him.

“Come here,” you whispered, opening your arms to him.

His eyes welled up with tears, and he leaned over, resting his head on your lap. You tugged the blanket up slightly higher, covering his torso. You ran your hands through his hair and down his back, feeling the tension release from his body.

Unexpectedly, the tears continued to fall harder. Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as he heaved out a sob.

“You’re okay,” you cooed. “I’m here.”

He let out all the emotions he had been trained to hold back. Grown men didn’t cry. Strong men didn’t cry. This is what he was told over and over. No one ever let him express himself freely, or show vulnerability. For some reason, he felt safe to show it around you. Confident that you didn’t judge him, or view him as weak.

He didn’t realize how much he was craving to just be held. To have his hair played with, his back scratched. To be told it’s okay. He couldn’t remember a time when someone treated him so gently. He wondered if his mom was the last person who truly took care of him. Now, he felt responsible to take care of people around him most of the time.

“Talk to me,” you said. “What happened?”

“My dad,” he blurted out. He rubbed the tears from his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to compose himself. “We got into a fight, as always. I accused him of…of killing my mom.”

“What?” you asked, unable to hide the shock in your voice. “Do you really think…”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was too young, but sometimes what he says just doesn’t add up. Doesn’t matter anyway, not like anything would happen to him.”

You nodded silently, knowing he was right. Even if Ward had killed her, no justice would be had. You knew Rafe grappled with the loss of his mom. Rose wasn’t exactly a replacement. She was cold, unkind. Rafe was in a constant battle with Ward. Trying to impress him, get his validation. Rafe grew up wanting his dad’s success, but most of all he just wanted his love. His acceptance. He didn’t think he would ever have a real family. That possibility only came into view when he met you.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe,” you consoled him. “I know how tense things can get with your dad. My arms are always open if you need a break, or need to talk.”

He sat up from your lap, facing you. His eyes were bloodshot from his previous tears. His usually hard features had softened, his eyes still carrying a deep sadness that you knew you couldn’t fix.

“I’m going to tell everyone we’re together,” he told you. “You’re…you’re perfect. You don’t deserve to be hidden. I don’t deserve you in general.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “When you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” he nodded. “I think…I think you’re the only person who actually cares about me. Who listens and…sees me.”

Your eyes welled up slightly. You weren’t expecting Rafe to say something so vulnerable like this. His rough edges were beginning to soften around you.

“I see you, Rafe,” you told him. You reached out and cupped the side of his face, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone.

He leaned forward, his warm lips crashing onto yours. The kiss was desperate, yet gentle. You didn’t realize how much you had missed this. When you pulled away, Rafe’s eyes were glistening once more.

“Everyone in my life leaves, or screws me over,” he told you, repeating his previous thoughts. “Please don’t leave me.”

You pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around him. He melted into your touch, safety and warmth encompassing his entire being.

“I’m here, Rafe,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You heard his stomach gurgle, making you let out a quiet chuckle. “Hungry?”

He nodded into the crook of your shoulder. You laughed once more as he pulled back, a smirk on his face.

“Let me make you something,” you told him. You planted a kiss on his cheek before standing up, placing the blanket over his carefully. “You just sit here and relax, okay?”

“I love when you take care of me, baby,” he murmured as he rested his head on the arm of the couch.

You smiled down at him before going into the kitchen to make him some food. He felt safe with you. You had to admit that your heart soared at the thought that you were the first person he came to after a fight with his dad. The first person he opened up to about his mom, to try in front of.

You didn’t even realize it would always be you. You would always be the first person he would run to, even in a crowded room.

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[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main short part 3

Debating if this can actually still be called a short....

Masterpost to find earlier parts, or my other work.

Danny shudders underneath him and grips the front of Jason’s jacket with both hands. They are both about to make the kiss deeper, when Jason hears the sound of Bats surrounding them. 

Jason can recognize that they make for a weird picture. Jason, kissing some man no one else in the family knows, with the Joker’s dead body five feet away. But he just wants to groan at the interruption. He needs to take Danny back to a safe house so he can learn everything about him as soon as possible. 

Maybe figure out how exactly he killed the Joker while he’s at it. Not that the means change anything about the end point, but Jason is curious.  Because as much as Jason wanted to kill the Joker, planned to kill the Joker, would have if it had come down to it, if this night had ended a little differently.

 The Joker did always seem a little unkillable though. He had a way of coming back. Like a cockroach. Jason may have to make sure that they burn the body.

Jason pulls away from Danny before he could continue the kiss, causing a truly adorable pout. Jason chuckles lightly, stepping back and letting his arms fall to his sides. Batman jumps down from the fire escape he was lurking on. He lands directly behind Jason, with a growl of “Hood”, that Jason knew was both a question and a command. Jason ignored it and watched as Robin jumped down as well. 

Robin crouched next to the Joker and did his own assessment of the body. 

“Dead.” The announcement is not a surprise to anyone present. It still brings Jason joy to hear.

“Hood.” An even lower growl than before. Getting more gravelly, Jason is starting to push Bruce’s tolerance for his bullshit.

It’s not funny. It shouldn’t be funny. But Jason throws his head back and laughs. He laughs for a god ten seconds before he calms and glances behind him at Danny, smiling so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt. Danny gives a small, nervous chuckle when Jason turns to him, but he keeps glancing between him and Bruce. Clearly nervous about Batman’s reaction to the manslaughter.

Jason turns back to Bruce, and his voice comes out so chipper when he talks it elicits another chuckle from Danny.

“I think we should burn him!”

“Hood!” And this one is as exasperated as Batman will allow himself to get in costume. 

Jason saunters over the Robin, whispering at him conspiratorially “We should maybe do this full-vampire style. Chop him up into pieces and then burn him.”

“I can’t help but agree.” Robin mutters, kicking Joker lightly in the arm. Jason liked this kid before, but his affection was growing. Jason  put his arm around Robin in a quick side hug. 

Robin was not expecting it, which gave Jason a full second before he had to dart away from a knife, laughing. 

“Explain. Now.” Batman’s main focus is on Robin and Hood, but he is also crowding Danny, who looks like he is trying to sink into the wall.

“Hey, leave him alone.” Jason walks back over, quickly, hoping Robin will start with the body while he distracts Bruce. He has faith the kid is good for it.

“What is he doing here and what were you doing with him?”

“Batman, this is Danny.” Danny gives a short wave. “Danny here was startled by the Joker, who confronted him while he was very innocently minding his business. Danny then defended himself against him, and now the Joker is dead.”

Batman gave him a blank stare. “Danny killed the Joker.” It’s flat, but conveys his disbelief perfectly.

“Do you see any bullet holes?” 

“Hn.” Batman grunted, turning to look back at the body. Which Robin might have actually been about to get started on. Jason spares a thought for what they would have donw about all the blood

“Robin!” The shout is sharp, and Robin lowers his knife, despondently putting it back in its sheath. “Robin, bag him and get him ready for transport.”

Robin sighs, but starts doing as he was asked.

Batman turns back to Jason and Danny. “ What were you two doing when we arrived?”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Look old man, I know kissing is not unfamiliar to you.” Batman grunts again. “But Danny, my new favorite person,” Jason takes Danny’s hand as Danny smiles at him. “Is my soulmate. Recently discovered, obviously. Just after he did what all of you refused to do for me, and by accident.”

There was a moment of quiet.

“I really didn’t mean to, Batman, I swear.” Danny is still holding Hood’s hand, squeezing it intermittently. Jason squeezes back every time. “Wait, what do you mean they refused to do for you?” Danny peers at the stoic faces of Batman and Robin, before nodding to himself. “Not the time.” 

“Hood, cave for debrief.”

Batman immediately started to turn around, but Jason scoffed. Jason could not believe the nerve actually, gaping a little at Bruce as he turned back around, before turning to look at Danny and then back at Bruce.

“ Hood, I understand the situation, but this is something that must be discussed.”

“B, you can’t be serious! He-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jason and Bruce both shift their gazes over to Danny. “I understand that meeting your soulmate in costume is probably not ideal. You don’t know me, and I’m not going to pretend you trust me yet.” Danny’s entire focus was on Hood.

“Go, talk things out with your group. My name is Danny Fenton. I’m sure you can find whatever you need on me with that. Find me later, okay?” Jason looked upset and it hurt Danny to already to see it.

“I’m okay with getting to know you in a mask if need be. Find my number, text me, call me. I can and will wait until you trust me.”

[foone]

honestly it would be funny to make an analog horror and include hints to all the normal tropes but then none of them end up being actually the case.

there's a kid acting weird, they weren't abused, murdered, or possessed. they've got ADHD and having trouble at school, but with some medication they're doing better now.

there's a company making a video game and it doesn't come out, and there's mysterious stories about the developers... the game is found on a CD-R at goodwill, and it's a decent if incomplete platformer-RPG.

the developer disappeared because he got kicked out of the country due to an expired work visa. He's actually just fine off in a different country doing work on other things. (fun fact: this happened to the main programmer of Final Fantasy I-III & Secret of Mana halfway through making II & III: His Japanese work visa expired, and they had to finish programming the game by moving all the other (Japanese) developers to Sacramento)

The company is experimenting with weird physics, and they have tons of security with it. There's no portal, no backrooms... but their new capacitor chemistry is significantly cheaper but with similar longevity. The security was to keep their competitors from stealing their millions of dollars of research.

There's a religious sect which has weird rituals and it turns out... they're a bunch of christians who have minor issues with the similar christians they split off from. They are very passionate about 1 Corinthians 3:16 and they refuse to eat avocados or other large berries, at pain of expulsion. What? No? No one got abused or sacrificed. I mean, Tanya sacrificed her weekends for 5 years to cook for the preschool, but she's still alive and happy.

There's a serial killer stalking the city. He leaves cryptic clues to his next target. The police capture him easily with a illegal DNA test after his daughter got cancer.

There's a spooky entity sometimes seen in analog media, and corrupting digital ones... after additional shielding is added to the main turbine of the Long Shoals Power Plant, the audio/visual disturbances in the area vanish.

That spooky tall person haunting the woods turns out to be a trans woman in a hoodie (it's cold in november!) foraging for mushrooms. She talks your ear off about how to tell the difference between Spring kings (Boletus rex-veris) and the deadly brown roll-rim (Paxillus involutus).

The abandoned house has a dark secret: the floorboards on the second floor are not up to code. why do you think it got condemned in the first place? Don't go up there, you might die! not from a ghost, from falling through the floor and getting super-tetanus.

The toy company closed down, all to hide their dark secret: those toys were made in sweatshop! the paint on the dolls has unsafe amounts of lead! The producer for the cartoon resigned in disgrace... no he just got a DUI and spent 9 months in jail for it. no kids were involved and no one died.

there's an alternate history about the US where it turns out all kinds of secret massacres and evil architecture and deals with pure evil and super weapons... but it's just the same ones we did in this reality. you know, the Black Hawk War, the MOVE bombing, the various mining wars, Robert Moses's racist & classist city planning, Project Paperclip, and ICBMs. No need for magic glass or hidden structures inside monuments: we've got Trinity Glass and the Cheyenne Mountain Complex.

You get strange notes left by your door, and it turns out they were all left by that nice lady who helped you with the groceries the other day. Her english isn't so good, and usually her grandson stops by and helps, but he's been away for school and her broken words didn't get across how she had some spare eggs from her chickens if you'd like some, it instead read more like she was going to "take your eggs"?

You can't believe that urban legend about an evil barren woman preying on pregnant women. that was just some bullshit made up by that christian group who was protesting abortion on your campus. It never happened (insert frakes gif here)

The guy stuck in a submarine at the bottom of the ocean is just there because he's an idiot techbro, not because he's a criminal condemned to one final mission at the bottom of a sea of blood in a universe where the stars are all dead. He just thought he was smarter than the people who actually build submarines, and made his out of expired tin foil.

I'm gonna make a analog horror

hard mode: there will be no "anomalies".

[the-bi-space-ace]

I’m Cold

I told you I was back on my Crosshair and Echo bullshit and you couldn’t stop me and I’m back again. This time with another headcanon and a short fic for EchoVember for everyone to enjoy 🩶

I think the phrase “I’m cold.” Became a sign for these two to let the other comfort them. To stop arguments about feeling coddled or not wanting to appear weak. “I’m cold” means move over. Let me take some of the burden. Don’t argue with me. It’s a way to make the other feel better about accepting comfort so they feel more willing to accept it, as if they're helping the other person instead.

How about a cute little fic about how that starts?

Have you ever wanted a fic like "Oh, Shut Up" but the roles reversed? Well, here ya go! Some Echo and Crosshair hurt/comfort for your enjoyment <3

Happy Echovember!

Echo woke to what sounded like the cross of a groan and a whine, high pitched but pained. Instinct threw him to his feet, touching down onto the metal floor of the Marauder, confronted only with the dim light of the bunk room and the subtle snores from his squad. All sleeping except for Wrecker up in the cockpit on watch. It was still deep in the night cycle, their next mission still a rotation out from their current position. There that noise was again. This time Echo could pinpoint where it was coming from. He turned towards it, spotting the restless lump on the bunk across from him. 

Crosshair was sleeping but it wasn’t restful, body tossing and turning underneath the covers. Every so often he let out a noise not unlike the first one. Short gasps and grumbles that could have been words but Echo couldn’t discern what he was trying to say. It wasn’t often that Crosshair got nightmares. There were always times bad dreams plagued them but Crosshair’s were few and far between. It was always possible that he just hid it better than the rest of them, too proud to show himself needing help in front of them. On the rare occasion he couldn’t hide it, usually Wrecker was at his side the second he made a noise, not even bothering to wake him up before climbing into the bunk. Crosshair always grumbled, bit back something snappy about how he’d been woken up, but he let Wrecker lay with him. Maybe that said more about Crosshair’s state in those moments than anything else. 

Another toss, face screwed up in pain, and Echo couldn’t wait any longer. He was careful not to let his feet make noise when he started to tip toe over to the other bunk. Noise behind him drew his eyes upward, meeting Hunter’s gaze as he was midway through tossing his own blanket off. Hunter tipped his head at Echo, eyes darting between him and their suffering squadmate. Was he the best person for this? That he didn’t quite know but he was already out of bed. No need to have someone else take over what he’d already determined he would do. 

Echo paused but flashed a quick hand signal to his sergeant. 

I’ll take point. 

Surprise flashed across Hunter’s expression for only a second then he flashed a quick OK before settling back down in his bunk. Echo could feel the eyes still on him but he’d committed to this course of action and he’d never been one to give up so soon. 

Approaching a squad mate had never felt so weighty before. The dominoes had been loud, excitable, but he’d never felt quite so out of his depth. Perhaps approaching from eye level was safer. Echo crouched by the side of the bunk so he could watch Crosshair’s face, screwed up as it was. Tear tracks ran down his face, unable to stop the emotion while still asleep, leaving a glistening target in the dark. Echo took a deep breath. 

“Crosshair.” Echo whispered. Nothing. Still tossing and turning uninhibited. With gentleness he’d not exhibited in a while he laid a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder, rocking him gently. “Hey, Cross.” The touch woke him almost instantly, breath sucked in through his nose and bleary eyes cracking open. As quick and observant as ever, Crosshair closed his eyes again and rubbed the back of his arm over his face, trying to disguise the telltale sign of tears. 

Echo’s heart squeezed a bit. He didn’t have to do that. Hide. Not from any of them. 

“What do you want, reg?” He bit out. Scratchiness from sleep mixed with a thickness that Echo hadn’t heard from Crosshair before. 

“You were making noise.” Echo said. His hand was pushed away as Crosshair rolled over onto his back, eyes studying the ceiling above him. 

Crosshair scoffed. “Sorry to disturb your sleep, didn’t realize regs needed such perfect conditions to pass out.” He sniffed, rubbing his arm over his eyes once more to confirm he’d gotten all of the tears off of his cheeks. Echo felt like he was trying to approach a scared tooka, one that was one step away from hissing and batting him away. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, ignoring the dig.

“Piss off.” Crosshair bit out, head turning to face the opposite wall. Wasn’t an answer to the question. 

“I get nightmares, too, ya know.” Echo sighed, resting his arm and scomp against each other on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m aware.” He grumbled, letting them fall into silence. The quiet only lasted until Crosshair huffed, turning back onto his side to stare menacingly at Echo. The red rimmed eyes undercut the curated mask. “Just go back to bed.” A dismissal. He wasn’t going to be thwarted that easily. Breaking down Crosshair’s walls took consistency. He was learning the longer he spent with Clone Force 99 that his bond with Crosshair would take work but once it was earned it would be difficult to break. 

Echo was planning on earning it.

“Already awake. No sense going all the way over there again.” Echo shrugged, gesturing behind him with his scomp. All it did was make Crosshair glare a bit harder as if it would scare Echo away from him. Most of the bite to him was to scare people off, not let them too close otherwise they might start to matter. That’s what freaked Crosshair out, Echo was sure of it, that someone new might matter to him and it would hurt if one day they were gone. Better to ruin it before it got to that point, frighten off Echo before he made up his mind and decided to stay for good. 

Not a chance he was letting that happen. 

Echo had twice Crosshair’s weight in stubbornness. Once his mind was made up he was sticking to it, even if he had to get knocked down a few times before he could stand on his own two feet. He met the glare with a raised eyebrow, tipping his head in challenge. 

A petulant eye roll accompanied a tired deflation. “I’m fine, reg. Use your pity on someone else.” 

“It’s not pity. You woke me, remember? This is your punishment for that.” The joke halfway landed, he saw it in Crosshair’s eyes, but it wasn’t quite enough to soften his mood, still grumbling and keeping his feelings too close to his chest. Echo reached his scomp out as an offering, one that Crosshair eyed but didn’t take. Not taking any of the bait. Must’ve been a pretty shitty dream. Echo deflated. His mind raced through options. Whatever he chose to do might get him slapped for his effort with the way his squadmate was reacting. He was at a loss until he shrugged, letting his head lay on his folded arm. 

“I’m cold.” Echo wasn’t sure how he had meant that to sound, how he’d like it to be taken, but waiting was the only way you got an answer out of their sniper. Crosshair watched his face for what felt like a full minute, thoughts racing behind steady eyes, brow pinching with that well earned skepticism. Temperature was almost always consistent on ships, especially theirs. Tech didn’t like it fluctuating too much. Bad for his ship as he’d say. The ‘cold’ was a poor excuse and they both knew it. Giving up was on the horizon, he’d fumbled this interaction enough it was about time to pack it in, but Crosshair surprised him as he often did. 

Crosshair shuffled backwards, making room on the tiny regulation bunk, then lifted the blanket as if offering an invitation. Hesitation would only make Crosshair skittish so Echo took the opportunity in stride and slid into the free space. The mattress was warm, heated by the body recently laying in that spot, and the blanket thrown over his shoulders added to the exchange of body heat. Echo turned onto his back and lifted his arm to let Crosshair scoot forward, tucking into the space to rest his head comfortably on his chest. Echo held him tightly, hand rubbing absentmindedly over the expanse of his back. A weary sigh left the other man’s body, finally melting into Echo’s side like it had brought at least some relief. 

Echo would like to believe that he could still give this kind of comfort. That he wasn’t so changed that his squad wouldn’t want to share such close space with him. He remembered holding Fives like this, carding fingers through his hair. Crosshair’s wasn’t quite as long but it was enough to run the tips of his fingers through, blunt nails scratching lightly over his scalp. 

“Echo?” The muffled voice brought Echo’s eyes downward. Crosshair wasn’t looking at him but he did squeeze tighter into the space, pressing his forehead to Echo’s neck, his arm stretching across Echo’s waist to keep the hold firm. No other words came but he got the message. Whether it was the way he squeezed back or the way his chest stuttered every so often Echo wouldn’t ever divulge. It was enough of an admission. Enough to know he was on the right track. Echo was as content to be the source of warmth for the night as Crosshair was to accept it now. 

Protectiveness swept through him, almost overwhelmingly so. Something in him wanted to chase away all of those sour thoughts. The ones that made pits grow in your stomach and your throat tighten. Make sure none of Clone Force 99 had to hurt, even if that hurt came in the form of nightmares or cold nights. Without thinking too hard about it Echo pressed a quick kiss to the top of Crosshair’s head. “I know, Cross, I know.” 

[souurcitrus]

It's a shame we can't have more seasons of Arcane. I love this series and think it has an amazing lore, however, the second season left me so sad because there's so many cool stuff we could have gotten if it wasn't so short.

So, I'm just gonna post here what I think we could have gotten if there was more time, more episodes:

• We need to see more of Caitlyn's mourning. And how it really affects her. I think it's bullshit her mother dies and then she starts to act like she suffered more than Zaun as a whole, but if it's the reason she becomes a fascist, a least make me believe it harder.

• We get more time seeing Vi ans Caitlyn develop a relationship.

• Loris and Vi become friends and spend more time together after joining Caitlyn's strike team. So we got more content of Loris and maybe even Steb and Maddie.

• Maddie getting closer to Caitlyn because she admires her would make her betrayal more.... impacting.

• Viktor leaves and we don't hear of him for a while after starting to heal the people of Zaun.

• We see more of Ekko, Heimmer and Jayce before they dissappear. Maybe just scenes of them in different times before they are gone.

• Jinx takes longer to deal with Silco's death. Through the season, she talks about him like she can't accept that she killed him and sees him once in her head. I think we could have more of that, because Silco was one of the most important people to her.

• Sevika and Jinx fight often. They have trouble keeping the Last Drop alive and people who want to take over the bar become a problem.

• Sevika has to deal with the other Chem Barons. If they were the antagonist for Sevika, Jinx and Isca this season, it would be cool. They can't make so many cool Barons and not use them.

• And maybe, by seeing Jinx defeating the Chem Barons and causing trouble to the Enforcers, Zaun would change their views of her and then the Jinxers and the Firelights start to act.

• Vi spending more time as a Enforcer and her relationship with Cait changes because of their views.

• Isha and Jinx bond.

• Mel is kidnapped by the Rose and has to go through changelles, as the Rose wants her to unlock her power.

• The big Fight in ep 3 could have been at the end. And it kinda off closes the season, with Vi staying behind, Loris finding her after leaving Cait and they leave together to Zaun. While the Jinxers become more famous, and Jinx is happier with Isha and Sevika.

• Next season, Cait gains more power. Maddie starts to slowly get closer to her.

• The Jinxers and the Firelights are still on their fight against the Enforcers.

• Jinx is living with Isha in a 'fantasy', like Sevika says.

• We could see more of Jayce's mom trying to find him. People worrying about Ekko, Jayce, Mel and Heimmer disappearing. And Tobias Kiramman's opinion on his daughter drastic change.

• Without the Chem Barons, the empire of Shimmers falls, but there's still people that need Shimmer. That's when we start to hear about the Harold.

• And start to hear about a monster in Zaun.

• Sevika is trying to keep Zaun together. Maybe she even has a meeting with the Firelights to discuss what to next, how to keep everyone safe.

• Isha is captured with the other Jinxers. Jinx and Sevika save her. They find Warwick.

• Vi and Loris are living together. Vi is dealing with the breakup in the best way possible, Loris is worried about her, but she won't listen to him and keeps hurting herself. After she crosses the line in of the fights and Loris sees she doesn't want to help herself, he puts a distance between them.

• Jinx, Vi and Isha go after Warwick in the tunnels.

• They don't know what to do with him. Warwick can't control himself, so they hide in the tunnels with him, and he starts to slowly warm up to them again.

• Maybe Jinx goes after Sevika, who's having trouble dealing with her new 'job', and with the fact she's just like Silco and Vander now.

• Vi goes ask Loris for help, because I think it would be hilarious for someone who doesn't know Vander to see him like this and go 'what the hell is that thing?'. And Loris could be the one who tells the girls about the Harold.

• We see Ekko, Heimmer and Jayce in other dimensions again, trying to solve the mystery of the Arcane. And then, they accidentally fall in different universes.

• Mel figures out Kino is dead and faces LeBlanc, who offers to train her after failing to contain Mel's power. So now Mel has a mentor and knows about her mother gaining power in Piltover.

• We also see Cait become more ruthless, with Maddie by her side, trying to convince her that Ambessa is right and there's nothing wrong with what they're doing. Steb is just on the background thinking 'I should have left with Loris'.

• What if Ambessa convinces Cait to pay a visit to the Firelights' tree? Maybe Cait tries to help them escape, or is the Jinxers, Vi and Jinx who fight the Enforcers and help them escape, and unfortunately they lose the tree.

• The girls take Vander to Viktor and we see him unblocking his past. While the girls fix their bond and try to help the Firelights and the Jinxers against Piltover.

• Jinx is happy, but she's still struggling with a lot of things. I don't think Vi completely accepts her as her new 'me'. Jinx causes a big explosion that the Jinxers love, but Vi is angry. They fight about Vi joining the Enforcers and Jinx becoming a criminal.

• We could see more of ther time with Silco, and she talks about it to Vi. Isha is there having fun with Vander and we could see more of him in the past with the girls, Mylo, Claggor, little Ekko and Benzo.

• Ambessa hears about the Harold and goes after them with Singed and her army.

• We see Ekko in the other universe. I'm just a sucker that wants more happiness and to see the family all together. I want him spending more time with Benzo, Mylo and Claggor.

• Vander starts to get better. He has a full conscience and can speak a few words. Everyone is happy and have papa wolf back.

• Ambessa arrives, fucks shit up. Isha dies, driving Jinx closer to the edge and making her angrier with Piltover and even more mad. Vander is fine, if he could have just ended as Warwick and not Vander, it would be cool. Would drive him closer to the game lore.

• Next season, we got the war.

• Later, Ekko comes back to his world with the Z-Drive, to help the Firelights, finds out his tree is almost dying and prepares to fight Piltover. Jayce is there too, he has been trough hell. Everyone agrees they need to stop Ambessa. Cait is there too I guess, after seeing how far Ambessa will go.

• Cait is dealing with the consequences of her actions. Her relationship with Vi is shitty, Maddie is still trying to convince her that she did nlthing wrong.

• Ambessa is forbidden of stepping in Piltover again and stays in Viktor's little village, while Singed tries to heal Vik and use Warwick. He wonders if Warwick is still Vander or if he's gone.

• Jinx left. She's dealing with Isha's death poorly. Seeing Mylo, Claggor, Vander and Silco, getting more mad. Sevika tries to talk to her, Vi tries, Ekko tries, she won't listen.

• Ekko, Vi, Cait, Jayce, Sevika, the Jinxers, the Firelights, Loris and Steb join forces to defeat Ambessa and Viktor.

• Mel hears about the war and wants to go back to help. She's more powerful now, but still struggles with her powers.

• Our little group of heroes goes to Piltover to convince the Counsil that Ambessa is shit and they need to be ready for war. Nobody listens but they won't give up.

• We see Cait and Vi getting closer again, Maddie is there too.

• Ekko tells Vi about that other universe maybe?

• Mel comes back, talks to Jayce and the others. They start to get ready. Cait tries to convince Vi to take her badge again, she refuses. Ekko finds out she was a Enforcer for a few months and gets mad.

• Jinx is doing crazy shit, fuck everything, she doesn't care anymore.

• Mel goes talk to her mother, we get a bit of background. Viktor envolve in his new form. Mel helps Warwick escape, and he runs away. She runs back to Piltover.

• We see Ambessa turning her soldiers into monsters with the help of Singed. And Singed stealing parts for his daughter.

• Warwick is somewhere having a identity crisis.

• They start to protect the City and Zaun. Sevika, Ekko, Scar and Gert convince the people of the Undercity to help protect their nation. Sevika is the one who spends more time with Jayce in the council, and has beef with the other Counselors.

• Jayce and Ekko work together to build weapons to protect the city. Bonding :)

• The war starts slower. We can see people preparing to fight, we get Vi and Cait talking. Please no sex scene in the prison, that actually upset me.

• Maddie is acting weird. Someone finds her doing suspicious shit. Loris and Vi bond, Mel and Jayce spend time together and break up.

• Can we see Jaycs talking to his mom about what he saw in the other time-line? Or just talking to her about his dream or something? Also, Cait and Tobias talk. Cait feels like shit for distorting her mother's work.

• Ekko goes talk to Jinx to try to convince her to help them, she refuses, but thinks Isha, who wanted to help so bad, would be upset. She starts to act in secret.

• The fight starts. The Undercity and Piltover are all together, it's pretty cool. Mostly of the same thing happens.

• Jinx comes in a cool entrance, Ekko and the Firelights and the Jinxers are with her. Warwick comes too, not quite Vander, but not quite Warwick.

• Viktor and Jayce fight. Or better, Jayce tries to talk Viktor out of his madness. Maddie gets shit and dies. Loris can die or not, don't know.

• Sevika is there fighting and saving people and just being badass.

• I think I would let the Rose take Ambessa right after she tells Mel she's the wolf.

• Viktor starts his shit to turn everyone into dolls. Singed is just having tea in his lair. Jayce and Ekko saves the day as normal.

• I don't know if Jayce dies with Viktor, or if Viktor has a moment of compassion and stops his actions, letting himself be destroyed, just to be revealed to be alive later and still planning to do crazy shit.

• With the fight over, we see Jinx go back to being a criminal, Ekko, Sevika and Vi work to change the undercity, and Jayce is there to help them.

• Ekko wants to make what he saw in the other time-line becoming reality. Sevika sits on the Council, knowing it would be a long time until they reach what Vander and Silco dreamed for Zaun.

• Warwick is running around, Vi tries to talk to him sometimes, but he always leaves. We get an almost good ending to everyone, and maybe see what the Undercity becomes one day.

[danykindaforgotaboutdre]

Fix It Fic (how many of these are there by now?)

I was so irked by Meljay's ending that I had to write them a new one. It isn't a fanservicey, perfect endgame, it's still a breakup of sorts, but to me it feels sweeter and more in character, and holds both characters accountable without the judgy bullshit Jayce pulled. Read the first scene as starting directly after Jayce says "It doesn't matter" and the second scene ending with their passenger exchange, which I still think is mostly fine writing wise. They aren't long because dialogue exchanges in this show tend to be short, and I want it to fit.

Scene 1

"It was you, wasn't it? You saved my life the night of the bombing."

She only looks at him, her silence the answer he needs.

"I wasn't worth it." he says

"Don't say things like that."

They go to each other in three long strides each, and he cups one large hand around her shoulder and another along her cheek, shuddering quietly at the feel of her. It's been so long and they've both changed so much, there's something fearsome in laying his hands on her now. And yet he doesn't let go, the width and sadness of her eyes won't let him.

"Where did you go?" he says.

She forces a weak smile "Never mind all that"

"No, tell me."

She reaches up to lift his hands away, and takes a step back. "I was taken. there were things I needed to learn about myself. Even if the learning was rather painful."

He understands. It was painful for the both of them. "Yeah, I think I know what you mean."

[enter Viktor *blam blam*]

Scene 2

They sit on the floor, near the big windows, shoulder to shoulder like waiting children. The silence is thick and overwhelming. Being near her doesn't bring him the same peace that it used to, but he knows it's simply because nothing can. Not after the things he's seen. Still, she's Mel, the one who always let him be close when he needed it, he wont deny her that now. She too is haunted by something he can never see or confront, what else is there to do but be next to her?

"We did the wrong thing Mel, Hextech... it was the wrong thing. I know that now," he says, his own voice sounding strange to him. He knows this isn't the time to bring this up, not with the way she's hurting, but he can't help the words that escape his lips.

"But we can make it right, maybe that's why we're still here," Mel says, the hope in her voice as true as it is devastating.

"I don't think there is any making it right. We did what we did. We hurt people... I hurt people. I can't make that go away."

"But we can do something," she says, more forcefully. "We can always do something."

He reaches for her hand, clasping it with his gloved one. He knows what he needs to do, but he wont say it, he can't bring himself to tell her that these may be the last moments they have left. Because he can do something, he will do something. But that something will be the end of him, he knows it somehow.

"You only ever wanted to do good. And I know you still can."

He leaves it there, hoping against hope that she doesn't ask what about him? They trade a glance, full of bittersweetness and the love they share that won't die even as the rest of him does.

She lays her head on his shoulder, resigned, quiet. War looms all around them and inside them, but not in this moment. Not here.

[someone-random-might-be-a-jester]

UPDATE!

Ok, so, in order to save my hands from dying the big petals will be kept at the same amount as their pattern which is 5 per flower

(Except the lavender one, that will get the true double treatment because I have already made the big petals for it. I also don't wanna try to search for a lighter color of yellow.)

So that makes it 110 petals that need to be made

Good news I've already finished a rose so that is officially 21 petals completely down.

8 days left: 50 petals left

Ok, so, I'm a fuckin idiot

Nothing new

However I decided that for Valentine's day that I was going to crochet 5 roses, 4 yellow , 1 lavender

However it ain't the beginner roses

No no no

I had to make it difficult on myself and use a pattern that I have too make 13 petals for + 1 flower sepal + 3 leaves

No only that but my over ambitious brain decided to DOUBLE the petal count

So originally I only had to make 65 petals and I had the pattern for everything

NOW I have to make 130 FUCKIN PETALS plus make a new sepal pattern

So this is a count down until the 14th and how many petals I still have to make

9 days left: 79 petals left

[spacedlexi]

the way the ericson group were at the outbreak just a bunch of troubled kids who made various mistakes or committed crimes and were judged by a system that punished and abandoned them instead of giving them the support and love they needed, are then nearly a decade later put into a situation where now they must judge a troubled child for the mistakes and crimes hes committed against them. and 5 to 3 vote them out 😭

[bibleofficial]

where is my fat husband

[t4tvglow]

it happened so early in the morning and i am STILL frothing with rage over this text my boss sent me

[mantisgodsdomain]

We are just now realizing that still being on the short list of kitten fosterers means that we're going to be having to handle weaning five 3-4 week old kittens that need to be fed every few hours while also having university four to six hours a day and honestly, that's not going to be very fun. We'd say "maybe we should have taken on less art challenges this year" but honestly we've been having a great time with the art challenges it's just the 4-6 hours of school that's been rapidly eroding our soul

[tenok]

The point (one of them) is that both Aziraphale and Crowley actually think they the smartest one in any given situation. And since I relate to Aziraphale much more today I get fixated on his brand of superiority. He starts his journey with rebellion from pretty tame "I don't get why they makes this desisions and it's look horrible on surface evel but I'm sure that they get best ineterests of everyone involved in their hearts and it's probably me the one that didn't get some oblivious detail" to "oh okay I'm sure it's some kind of misundestanding and we can all talk it out as adults because we there work on same goals" to frustrated "they won't ever listen to me and I will get in trouble for arguing and it will be better for everyone if I will make my desisions in secret and go behind their backs because I just can't let THEM make desisions that will destroy everything". It's not straightforward, I'm 30 and still circulate sometimes between "what if it's me the one that wrong aout everything" and "god HOW people can be THAT stupid", but I remember going throught this stages first as good and obedient kid with really stupid parents making stupid desisions and later with school, govermnet, activist spaces etc.

And the problem is, I was the smartest person in the room enough time to develop issues, and Aziraphale lives like his for 6000 years at least. I can only imagine how many times he thought "if only Starmaker listen to me and didn't Fall", "if only God listened to me and didn't make an Apocalypse happen", "if only Heavens listened to me and didn't did this or that that thing", "if only Crowley listen to me and understand in what kind of danger we can get", "if only that human listened to me and haven't dig the body", etc etc. It's awful, to be the one who always gets to say "I told you so", especially when there's such awful consequenses you can't even feel satisfaction, and you will be the one to clen this mess up (and Aziraphae will clean, or better try to prevent). Now, it's of course leads to issues. BIG issues.

1) It's really hard to stop being plotting and maciavellian and communicate things properly when you expect that person will at best argue with you, at worst punish you and double down on their stupid desisons and you will clean this mess up. It also really hard to stop trying to control everything because you already accepted that everything is your responsibility and everyone else would just make things worse. (as someone that relates to Aziraphale I think he did so much progress there, the levels or trust he shows Crowley are amazing for two beings that probably last time heard of psychotherapy when Freud was alive. but such trust is fragile thing, one misstep and you back on your "it will be better if I do everything alone" bullshit. I'm not saying it's good. I'm also not saying that it's bad. it's just how things work)

2) It makes you overstep other people authonomy, because, again, it would be better for everyone if they did what you think best for them. It works funny wih Aziraphale because yes he's all for free choices for humanity!! NOW GO AND DO SMART CHOICES DAMN YOU!!! WHY YOU DON'T PICK THE THING THAT WOULD BE SMART TO PICK I HATE YOU ALL. That's where me and Aziraphale difer a little because at least I somewhat good at stepping into other people shoes and understand why they do what they do. But angel there is autistic (or bad at this specific thing for other reasons), so I think when people he consider reasonable doesn't agree with him for their own reasons he ge's really baffled, like, there arE correct opinion and it's mine, WHY are you being difficult?? to spite me?? And I'm sure that half of the reason why Aziraphale's so comfortable with Crowley is that he perfectly happy to let him buly or manipulate him into doing things Aziraphale picks as right. Usually Crowley know where pick his battles and how to play long game to make Aziraphale agree for really important stuff he wants from him, but otherwise? Sure he will complain how he hates Hamlet but they will watch Hamlet, and Aziraphale will be very pleased with himself. (and than there goes final fifteen and we back at "but WHY won't ypu agree with thing I pick or us IT'S GOOD AND RESONABLE THING" and we should be happy that consent is something that imporant for our angel ok? he would be angry with Crowley for picking wrong but he won't make him do what he doesn't want. they respect each other like that.)

3) It makes you really really tired and tense. You control everything, unfortunately the longer you do it the more things starts really depedend on you, you can't let go, you don't know anyone that can share this burden with you because first they should prove that they won't blow his up and for this you should share at least something with them, but what is they would blow it up? Better be safe than sorry. And look when it's my problems it's credit cards and doctor appointmens and with Aziraphale we talk about people dying. Crowley dying. Now, as I said, he actually shows Crowley so. much. trust. for someone with such issues. Because Crowley was there for 6000 years, and he proved himself capable enough times. But still there's areas where let go and not worry would be impossible for Aziraphale, Crowley's safety being one of such things (you see, you can risk with your life when you deal with your problems because whatever you will clean shit up if needed, but if someone close to you hurt themself?? it's YOUR problem too but it will be SO MUCH HARDER to clean. I think when Aziraphale points to Crowley that hell would be harder on him than he can expect heavens to punish him, it's partially because he believes it's true and partially because he knows how to minimize harm when heavens angry with him but HOW can he do this for Crowley??). Anyway. Lol. The more I think about it the more I sure that Crowley without Aziraphale would be a miserable angry dick, and Aziraphale wihout Crowley would be dead, because it was the one person that kept him one tiny slip away from total burn out.

So yeah there's a lot of posts about how angry heartbroken etc Crowley will be with Aziraphale (I don't agree but that's for other post), less posts about how sad and heartbroken will be Aziraphale, but I hope to see Azyraphale being angry too (it they will be angry with each other at all). Not only for not picking him or leaving or making everything messy and emotional and wasting their first kiss at their fight etc, but also because Aziraphale was trusting him! Trusting that he get another resonable adult in team with him! Someone who he can trust to make resonable desisions and see his ideas as clever and him as capable and being willing to go to the end of the world with him with mild complaints and than!! When he did trust him to understand!! He was like everyone else!! Unresonable and emotional and angry with him and why he asked him at all he should've do it secretly and alone as always and it would've be as usual and it wouldn't hurt but it was Crowley that taught him to trust and to ask him for help!! Breaking his perfectly fine coping mechanisms!! It's all his faut if you think about it huh?? (but of course he's already forgiven. but also Aziraphale would do what he needs to do alone this time, as one and only capable adult in the world.)

Anyway it's not a meta it's just some late night thoughts. And it's in no way whole analizis there's so much more problems inside this angel. It's just something in particular that resonated with me today. Also it's not in any way critisizm of him, mind you, because a) he does really the smartest person in the room most of the time and b) I LOVE how fucked up in the head he is!!! I think he needs to become even more fucked up actually!!! and Crowley should love him for that and I will cheer for him from sidelines!!!

[talentforlying]

LET ME ASSIGN YOU AN AESTHETIC WORD.

CAFUNÉ. cafuné means running your fingers through someone's- perhaps a lover, hair. it's such an intimate, affectionate way of showing love. if you got this result, you're a romantic at heart; very sweet, delicate, precious wandering soul. aren't you scared of your heart being too big for your body? somehow, you remind me of that pretty coral pink that bleeds into a soft indigo when the sun is slowly setting.

what i'd like to tell you is that we can't save everyone, and that's okay. you're doing your best, and it's enough.

tagged by: @danversiism!! <3 tagging: you!!

[void-tiger]

Actually…? No. Tell me the odds. I need the likelihood of success and got nothing else to lose might as well try even if extremely unlikely. Because I need help sustaining the hope that everything’s gonna be okay and motivation to get there that I just can’t do for myself without burning out almost completely.

[britneyshakespeare]

That manipulative, guilt-tripping, gaslighting and condescending ex-friend I've been subposting about every now and then for several months because his actions and words have made a paranoid wreck out of me, who suddenly stonewalled me three months ago after I set up my very first impersonal boundary with him, and then I just never reached out to him again because I realized what he was trying to do was get me to crawl on my knees and ask HIM for forgiveness for hurting ME... he messaged me today. With a laundry list of excuses and justifications in the form of an "apology" filled with fake compliments and self-pity and words put into my own mouth that I had never said to him.

I let him HAAAAAAVE it motherfucker. Well Mr. Krabs, do you wanna know what I think?

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, yandere, toxic relationship, friends with benefits, guns, threats of harm and death, name-calling

gn reader

When you open your heart to your fuck-friend, he sighs with rust.

You still have his cum inside your hole as he tears you a new one—telling you he doesn’t have the fucking time or the fucking energy to deal with lovey-dovey confessions right now—he has enough bullshit on his goddamn plate already without having to consider you and your fucking feelings as well.

If you’re not going to shut up and fuck him, you might as well shut up and fuck off.

So you do. The latter, that is.

Part of you knew it was going to end up this way. You with your heart broken and him with the blood on his hands. But part of you had hoped as well—hoped he felt the same way—hoped your words would soften his edges and wash away all the muck in his head enough to let you in.

You’d read a little too much into those gentle touches he sometimes bestowed upon you in his weaker moments—that soft way he cried when holding onto you during the night, wordless and clingy and begging you not to go.

But the more you think about it, the less you understand why your heart aches. It doesn’t really make much sense after all…

In truth, he’s an asshole. Always been. And you deserve better.

He’s always so angry. Always on something mudding up his blood. Never with anything nice to say. It doesn’t really matter how you’d held him in his nightmares or patched him up when he’d stumbled through your door drunk and bloody. 

Scarred boys in need of fixing aren’t good for your health—especially when all they have to offer you in return are callous words of rejection.

He’d always been secretive. He wasn’t a very good lover—but you're not entirely sure if he was ever even a good man. The wounds he’d dreg to your apartment in the middle of the night always left blood on your sheets. He never agreed to go to the hospital—always insisted your first-aid kit was enough, even when he'd come to you with bullets you’d have to dig out with a pair of tweezers.

You realize he’d been using you. You were convenient and stopped being convenient the minute you wanted more—and upon the realization, you move on.

And then he comes crawling back…

Shivering in the rain like a beaten street mutt—looking starved and sick like one, too. There’s blood on his shirt and a grim darkness in his eyes. He tells you to let him in, and you only barely have the guts to tell him to go away. 

He has this tortured look on his face—as though something’s your fault, as though you’ve wronged him in some way, as though you’re the reason he’s out in the cold with nowhere to go.

Barging in and slamming the door behind him—he locks it and pockets the key—ignoring your questions as you ask him what the fuck’s gotten into him. He looks deranged—water dripping from his matted bangs, eyes reddened, and cheeks streaked. You only now notice it isn't because of the rain.

“You said you wanted me, didn’t you?” he huffs. “Here I am.”

You’re tense. You hadn’t felt like that with him before, it takes you a minute to realize it’s because you’re scared. After all, you’d wanted him all those other times—rough or otherwise. And now you didn’t want him at all. 

“You should leave. You’ve been drinking.”

“What? You changed your mind already?” he accused, then scoffed with a not-so-unamused laugh. “I’m not surprised. People like you, who like danger and bad men, are always so fickle-hearted.” He approaches you too fast for you to back away, his scarred hands curling into your sweater—split skin from recent beatings bleed onto the fabric. “Flighty little slut, you’ve probably already found the next guy who gives you a rush. Isn’t that right?” He’s seething as he pulls you forward, looking like a hostile hound.

You lay your hands on his chest to keep him at a distance—feeling his entire body shake like static beneath your touch. You wonder if he’s taken drugs tonight, but looking into his eyes, you don’t think so. They aren’t fidgety but deadset. Actually, upon closer look, you don’t even think he’s drunk.

But anyway, it doesn’t really matter. You still don’t want him here. “I’m serious. Get out, or I’m calling the police.”

“Oh? Are we slinging threats now?” he jeers, showing no signs of letting go or leaving—he only pulls you in closer, so close you could kiss. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared now.” He breathes out another short excuse for a laugh as you veer away, putting his lips to your ear instead. “You should have been from the start—but no—grinding up on me at the club as though you’d die without my attention. Crying pretty tears when you saw me all beaten and bruised—acting as though you want to save me. Tch—”

He throws you down on the carpeted floor. You wince from the impact, and when you look up again, you see he has a gun pointed at you.

You stop breathing. A dark sinkhole in your gut seems to want to swallow you from the inside, and you think you might just want it to if it means escaping the threat before you.

“I shouldn't have come here…” he mutters—finger resting on the trigger all too calmy. “But I just couldn’t get your face out of my head. Looking up at me with those doe-eyes, wearing my shirt even though it’s got blood on it after I fuck you silly, saying such sweet little nothings as if I’d paid you to.”

He sighs—heavily—as though he’s expelling spirits. His hand remains holding the gun poised and pointed straight down at you even as the other drags down his face, pulling his maw before sliding through his wet locks, raking them away from his face.

“I gotta kill you, you know?” he says, shoulders slumping with the statement. He sniffs—it's almost soft enough to be a sniffle. “That’s the only way to solve this. That’s the only way to get you out of my fucking head.”

He cocks the safety with a click that makes your life flash before your eyes. Faces of your family and friends, people you haven't seen in years, childhood pets long dead, a job interview, the holiday you felt true happiness, the night you went out dancing and met him.

The tears stream silently down your face, and you still don’t breathe. Every part of you, every nerve and muscle, has gone completely still. Unmoving, unblinking as you stare up through the barrel of the gun and wait for the bullet to come through.

His finger curls tighter around the trigger, and you close your eyes with a furl between your brows. And then…

Nothing. There’s a large exhale.

“I can’t do it…” 

You open your eyes to see the gun lowered. The sight brings a fresh rush of air back to your lungs, making you all but wheeze as it fills you, breathing in far too much and much too quickly. You regain some semblance worth of motoric, too—able to scramble backward until there’s no more room to be gained, sitting with your back against the wall. Eyes peeled at him where he’s taken to crouch, holding his head with his free hand and the one still with the gun in it.

He fists his hair and tugs on it frustratedly, muttering to himself. “Dozens of lives on my hands, and I can't kill this one single-” he stopped short.

This time, when he looks at you, there’s something else in his eyes. No malice or scorn, but something sad—pity almost.

“Well… seems like you got what you wanted...”

The pity’s for you.

“This is what having my heart feels like.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Toji ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist