#though that being said i don't have the ability to do a damn thing at all right now

[alltimefail]

Random thought that could could absolutely be nothing, an over-analyzation of sorts even, but I have always found it interesting that in the Devlin house episode Charles gets sucked into the loop starting from the point he snaps at Edwin about him "Not being the all-knowing expert on all things." It's especially interesting to me because after he does so, Edwin tells Charles that he's "...Not acting like himself at all."

In theory, Charles could have just reappeared when Mr. Devlin turns the corner or when he approaches Mr. Devlin here:

because if the point of repetition here is to show us that the abuse Charles suffered at the hands of his own father is what causes him to get trapped in the loop, either of those moments would have been sufficient in supporting that idea. The dialogue shared beforehand between him and Edwin has little to do with the point at hand...unless...

Charles feeling pain about his own father isn't the whole sum of why he gets trapped in the loop; his fear that he's just LIKE his father, that he's not a good person, that he's "Cruel for the shits," and capable of hurting the people he loves (and thus undeserving of their love) is also what traps him in the loop, and that's why his "loop" starts with him snapping at Edwin.

Even though we as viewers can empathize with and understand why Charles snaps at Edwin given the circumstances, it's very unlikely that Charles extends that same grace to himself. I would argue that we see the multi-faceted layers of his trauma explored in various ways from this moment on. Charles himself even later admits that all he feels is anger despite the fact that he wants to be "a good guy." Charles has yet to understand that it's possible to be good and feel anger, that anger in and of itself is not bad, and that feeling strong negative emotions like grief or anger does not make a person dangerous or abusive like his father was...nor does it guarantee that he would use his anger to harm others. So, with that in mind, of course Charles' loop would start with him lashing out at Edwin, as opposed to it just starting with him lashing out at Brandon Devlin; it's not just about feeling powerless to stop the abuse, it's about feeling like you play a role in it. It's about the deep-rooted fear that maybe you actually deserved the abuse you suffered because you are not good, and just by being related to an abuser you are damned to be just like them, or worse. Charles worries about who he truly is, deep down, and that maybe Edwin is wrong when he says that Charles isn't acting like himself: maybe the darkest parts that he works so hard to bury are actually who he truly is, and his ability to throw careless, harmful, biting words at someone he loves deeper than anyone else may be a reflection of this. After all, his father loved his mother, he loved Charles, and look what he did to them... how he hurt them beyond repair. What if he is the same?

OR: the trauma Charles deals with isn't only the violence his father enacted on him (shown through what Brandon Devlin does to his family), but it's also the violence he feels capable of enacting himself (shown through his ability to throw harsh words toward Edwin who Charles openly claims is the "most important person in the world" to him).

What furthered this idea even more for me (and added a bit of salt to the wound frankly) was Crystal and Edwin's reactions to Charles being pulled into the loop. Out of shock, confusion, and frustration Crystal immediately turns to Edwin for answers but for a moment he is just frantic and uncharacteristically frazzled, only able to say, "Charles was right, I don't know everything..." and OUCH, right? But it emphasizes that 1) what Charles said to Edwin was quite hurtful, 2) that it did have an (unintentional) impact on Edwin, and 3) that Charles himself very well might have realized it was hurtful as soon as it left his mouth thus, again, why it would make sense that his loop began there.

It takes a strong emotional reaction to be pulled into a loop; the possibly that this moment was written to work on two levels of Charles' inner turmoil is quite clever (and extremely heartbreaking).

Again, it could absolutely be nothing... but it's worth pondering!!

[bunny-1111]

Mr fix it - dad Theo Nott x femreader

Description: Theodore is protective over his wife and daughter as they accidentally take a fall into the lake under his supervision

Word count: 1.65k

Fluff

Warning: mentions of falling into the lake (no complete drowning, just panic)

likes comments + reblogs appreciated xx

...

After graduating high school, Theodore wasted no time in proposing.

It was a collection of things. He didn't want to risk the two of you drifting apart. With his senior father falling ill, Theodore knew what would be waiting for him with his father's departure, a huge mansion, too much money and oh so much time.

Being all alone in that house was his nightmare. He knew he would go insane if you were not by his side, as his wife, creating a home out of that residency together.

So that you did. A small, intimate ceremony, your close friends and family, a not-so-humble celebration at the manor that would soon be yours to share.

When at Hogwarts, you practically lived with each other; your dorm was his and vice versa. Moving in was bliss.

You had redecorated the house and brought life back into its rooms; it was such a big property, though it never felt empty; how could it? When it was filled with so much young love.

After falling pregnant with your daughter, Theodore's whole demeanour shifted; a once carefree young boy had become an observant young man, the father of his little girl.

He would make sure, heavy or sharp objects weren't in her reach.

Her bedroom, to Theo's liking, was almost bare of furniture, simply her bed, a rocking chair and a small table cluttered with books, avoiding almost all ability of injury.

He would hover over her each step she took; this became harder the faster she ran; he was so scared of her own two feet, his arms never too far away, in case he needed to catch her.

"You need to relax, Teddy. She's not made of bubble wrap. Children are meant to fall and cry. It's natural" you expressed, sliding into bed next to him

"I know, I just don't want to see either of you hurt, ever." he sighed back

"Theo, when have we ever" you smiled at his foolish panic

"You do your damn best at keeping us safe alright, just take a step back. It'll be good for her, ok?" you said, hands through his hair

He looked into your eyes, "Ok?" you repeated

"Ok." he agreed, kissing you goodnight.

You were quick to fall asleep. Theo laid, eyes open, mind awake. How could he sit back and not do everything he could to make sure his precious girls didn't get hurt, even by accident. His heart strings pulled at the very thought of you both, it came from love, such devotion to his two brilliant girls, his wife and daughter.

The next afternoon, as he rested and watched against a large tree in the backyard, he observed the two of you playing near the lake on the property's edge.

'they're fine', leave them be', he reminded himself, body heavy against the tree, eyes still glued to you two.

When, from his distance, he saw your energetic three-year-old jump around you, you were wearing a long flowing dress; it was just a little too long for your body, as he had watched you hold it up in your hands to avoid tripping.

His two girls picked flowers by the lakeside, placing them into a basket you carried on your arm.

It was in a flash of a second as he watched your daughter step on the hanging fabric, causing you to fall in the water, "Daddy!" your small child called out

He sprinted toward you. "Stay there!" he yelled towards her. As he ran, he watched his daughter willingly enter the water to try and help you before he could get to you, completely ignoring his instructions

The problem was the dress was too heavy, you were struggling to stay afloat, and your daughter, she didn't know how to swim.

You held your daughter above water as she kicked against the current in fright, gasping for air yourself; you were swallowing too much water.

Without hesitation, Theodore plunged to your rescue, taking your daughter into his hand, the other pulling you with them.

She cried in confusion as she was placed onto the grass, but her now very drenched father, "Don't move darling", he sternly instructed her as he rushed to your side, rubbing your back as you coughed up.

"What's wrong with mommy?" your daughter questioned, tears still falling down her face. She knew she was responsible

"She's alright, mommy's alright," he said, holding your hair back as you caught your breath.

Crawling towards your daughter, you lay down completely on the grass next to her, "I'm ok, sweetheart", wiping the tears off her now puffy cheeks.

Theodore knew the child was ok, so he cupped your face to inspect for anything. When he was satisfied, he joined your place on the floor

"Holy shit" he muttered, grasping what just unfolded, placing his daughter onto his lap

"We're fine" you smiled towards your obviously freaked-out husband

"Sorry" your daughter frowned

"Don't ever come in the water again, alright, not until we teach you how to swim," you say, trying to hide your own panic about what might have happened if Theo wasn't closed; she nodded in agreement.

That night in bed, after putting your daughter into her own room, Theodore suggested removing the lake altogether.

"No, that's not necessary, Theo", you insisted

"and just after you told me to lay off as well" he shook his head, rubbing his eyes

"we're safe thanks to you, alright? Even if we do get hurt, you always come and fix it, piece us back together," you soothed

He couldn't even look at you without reimagining you fighting in the water

"Well, I know something you don't know, something that might cheer you up" You smiled, gently moving his face towards your own

"What's that?" he said, looking deeply into your eyes

Before you could reply, your daughter crept into your bed, sliding herself into the middle of you both

"Are you ok, my love?" you ask your little girl as she moves beside you

"I no sleep" she huffed, getting comfortable

Theodore smiled, eyes wandering between you both

"What are we call, baby brother, daddy?" she questioned

"You want a baby brother?" he said, gently wrapping his long arm across you and your child

You tried to hide your face

"No silly Daddy, Mommy said he's coming soon", she smiled with excitement

"Really?" Theodore said to you, sitting upwards

"yeah," you laughed as Theodore placed kisses all over your face, your daughter laughing at the commotion.

This meant two things, his family extending and another little human to worry over.

i love dad theo

Author Note: sorry, I've been so busy haven't had the chance to upload and write, but more is on the way. Don't worry - requests are open

[feyascorner]

Sure, Astarion has his reasons for being the way he is, but he wasn't a good man before Cazador either.

He was a corrupt magistrate of high society, who had an insatiable thirst for power and immortality. He got it in the end, but at a cost he never expected to pay.

So imagine if he and Tav met centuries before the events of the game? Tav being one of the “commoners” he looks down upon, scrunching his nose in disgust at the library when your fingers brush against one another as you try to reach for the same book. He yanks his hand away so abruptly that it makes you blink.

“Ah, sorry, did you want it?” you hold out the book in his direction, but he’s already scowling. You’re by no means filthy, but he thinks you might as well be with how your clothes would fetch less than a few dozen gold pieces at the local market. And rather than having your hair neatly arranged like other ladies of high society, yours is messily tied back with a string, in a manner he'd consider disheveled.

“I did,” he mutters in return. “You can keep the damn thing, dear. I no longer have any need for it.”

You don’t know where this snarkiness is coming from, so all you can do is watch as he strides away, lips sealed in a confident yet mildly annoyed frown. He swears he won't return to this library again if those are the kinds of guests they allow in these days.

So imagine his surprise when he meets you at the nautiloid crash site. Well, he doesn't recognize you at first. You don't either. Who would? You've only said one sentence to one another. But when you see him reading at his tent, you mention favorite books of your own even though he never actually asked. Within them, is the very title of the book he let you have—which happens to be some obscure book basically nobody else reads.

He remembers you, because his encounter with you was just a day before he’d been ambushed and turned into what he is. And it’s an underestimate to say he's reimagined that very day at least a few hundred times in his head.

The same can't be said for you. You remain oblivious.

But he's different now. He stitches the rips on his own shirt at least a dozen times a month, making sure the seams blend flawlessly and the cloth makes him look as flattering as he possibly can. In the past, he would've made the expensive personal tailors do the work, but 200 years as a slave can enact more than a few lifestyle changes to an elf.

However, similar to then, he notices you're still struggling in your own ability to sew.

“Like this, darling,” he says again. “Through the loop, here.”

As you marvel innocently at his handiwork, he smiles. He's not sure how you can derive such joy from a simple needle with a thread, but he doesn't complain about the way you fawn over him rather than anyone else. He thinks about his first reaction to you, much to his avoidance. He misjudged you at the time. Terribly. And while he’ll come around to telling you eventually, he’d rather find little ways to make up for it for now.

And if he has to use a needle on the rips of your pants to do so, so be it. Besides, he thinks he likes sewing—especially when it’s for you.

[villainousauthor]

Would you plss write something where a villain and hero realize they're soulmates? Thank you<333

Hero grunted in pain as they clutched their abdomen and tried to catch their breath. Their head swam, and their vision blurred as they attempted to gain their bearings. One second, they were in a massive fight against several villains. The next, they found themselves being pushed back through a portal. Supervillain was likely to blame for that, with his ability to warp people anywhere in the world.

Hopefully, their communicator wasn't broken in battle, so they'll be able to send their location to their team. If they could even find it.

They try to stand, and immediately, their vision starts to darken around the edges and their head throbs. With a hiss they fall back to the ground.

"Careful, you probably have a concussion."

Hero cranes their neck to see Villain a few feet away, remarkably less injured and approaching. They don't have any weapons drawn, but still, hero feels their heart lurch.

They open their mouth, trying to speak. "I didn't see you go through the portal.. " Even their voice is laced with pain.

Villain is closer now and stops a few feet away, kneeling so they're at eye level. They seem to be assessing Hero's current state. Probably to see if they can easily finish them off, Hero assumes.

"I came in after you." Villain says nonchalantly, like this is the most obvious thing in the world. They eye the blood currently dripping down Hero's head, and the large gash in their arm.

Hero snort, and their chests aches in protest. "Why, to finish the job? Make sure I don't come back?"

Standing up and getting closer, Villain rolls their eyes.

"No, idiot. One day, if you die, it's not going to be at Supervillain's hands. Or because you bled out in-" Villain looks around at the tall trees, the lack of buildings or signs of civilization. "- the middle of the...pacific northwest? I don't even know where we are." They finish, unsure.

Hero tries to sit up as Villain kneels down again, closer this time. "I don't know either. I lost all my tech, I don't even have a way of contacting my team."

"Lucky for you, my stuff faired much better." Villain says smugly, and Hero wishes they could knock the look off their face. "I'll send my location to my henchmen, and they'll come to get us."

Villain reaches out for their arm, and Hero immediately finds themselves flinching away. Villain's lips press into a thin line.

"I'm not going to kill you, like I said. Unless you want to bleed out before someone arrives, you should let me treat your wounds." Villain's voice is firm as they pull a small first aid kid off their utility belt.

"I'm not going to bled out, it's not that bad." Hero tries to keep a defiant edge to their voice. For all they know, Villain will kill them, probably inject them with some poison or something just to make it easy.

"How bad did you hit your head? Are you blind suddenly? Because it looks pretty damn bad." Villain opens the small kit, showing Hero the contents. "Look, normal first aid crap." Their brows are furrowed, frustrated by Hero's reluctance.

Finally, after several tense seconds, Hero relents. They nod and slump their shoulders, as Villain moves closer now.

"The amount of trust issues you have is ridiculous..." They grumble under their breath as they slowly pull the damaged and blood-soaked sleeve of Hero's uniform back. They get a good look at the deep and long cut. Their frown deepens.

Pulling off their dirty gloves, Villain speaks again as they reach for something else.

"I'm going to have to clean this before I dress it. You might need sutures, though." Grabbing alcohol wipes, they use one hand to hold Hero's arm steady, grabbing their forearm.

Hero immediately hisses and jumps back, wrenching their arm from Villain's grasp.

"Jesus christ! Cleaning it shouldn't hurt that much!" Hero exclaims, even more tense. "What did you do, burn me?" They demand, but then they see Villain's expression. Their eyes are focused on Hero's arm, and their face looks cloudy and unreadable. They don't respond to what Hero said, like they didn't register it.

Hero looks down at their arm, and their eyes widen when they see it. Right on their arm, below the wound is a handprint. A completely different shade than Hero's skin tone, it stands out. A soulmark. Right where Villain grabbed them.

"Oh..." Is all Hero can manage to say in this moment. Villain seems to snap out of their trance and reaches for Hero's arm quickly, wrapping their hand back around where the mark is. It fits perfectly.

"This is...this really...this wasn't here before, right?" Villain asks, even though they saw Hero's completely blank and markless skin moments before. They unknowingly tighten their hold, and Hero yelps, their arm still in pain.

Pulling their hand back like they were burned, Villain finally meets Hero's eyes. "You're..." Villain trails off, shaking their head. They look away, palm to their forehead like they're trying to process this.

Hero feels like the forest floor will open up any minute and swallow them whole. If it weren't for their probable concussion, they're sure they would be taking this a lot harder. It feels like there's a charge around them now, an electrical current, live and dangerous between them.

Finally, Villain swallows and talks. "Let me just...let me just treat your wounds, and we can talk about this later." They manage.

Hero just nods as Villain returns to their first aid kit, ignoring the spark and air of tension now between them.

[mikachacha]

𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

Synopsis: You and Bada are secretly dating but also competing against each other in Street Woman Fighter. You're in Jam Republic while she's leading team Bebe. So when she saw you perform for Hwasa choreography draft mission, she could've sworn that she lost her shit at how enticing you looked.

Warnings: very suggestive content (possibility of being a smut) and language

(A/N: I've been watching the choregraphies for Chili and damn they're all hot 🤤)

🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸

Being in a secret relationship is hard, but being in a competition against your girlfriend is harder. You're the sixth member of Jam Republic while Bada is the leader of Bebe. Your teams often clashed but you didn't let that come between you two. You still loved each other the same and are each other's hype woman.

To keep the professionalism up, whenever there's an upcoming mission, you guys don't discuss any competition related to each other and don't send any pics or videos of both your teams' routines even though the both of you loved showing off to each other, especially when it comes to dancing so when the Hwasa choreography draft mission came, both of you were completely blown away by each other's performance.

"Damn.. My girlfriend is so hot what the actual fuckkkk?!?" you couldn't help yourself but gush over Bada as well as team Bebe which made your own teammates laugh.

"It's like you're only seeing it for the first time." Ling nudged you while laughing and you turned to her with a pout on your face.

"It is the first time that I saw that! Well except for when we were asked to perform a little bit of our concepts to the other teams. But still! They changed some parts." You said and Kirsten only chuckled, ruffling your hair.

"I think Bada will be on your ass later after she watches you perform. We did keep the juiciest parts for this." Kirsten grinned and you couldn't help but smile mischievously at what she said. Bada is definitely in for a surprise.

When it was your group's turn to perform, you looked at Bada and smirked which she found a bit strange. It made her feel nervous and excited at the same time so she eagerly watched you perform with your group. To say that she lost her ability to think rationally is a huge understatement. Seeing you on stage, dancing so enticingly, especially when you did the floor work.. It made Bada's jaw drop. She's sure that you'll be the cause of her demise at how hot you looked.

"I want to go up there and just snatch her then go home.." Bada whined while her team members laughed. Their leader is so far gone, probably imagining all the dirty things she's gonna do to you when you get home.

"I seriously feel bad for Y/N-unnie.. The way Bada-unnie is looking at her right now doesn't look like she's gonna be resting when they get home." Sowoen jokingly said and the others agreed with her. The way Bada is looking at you reminds them of a wolf waiting to pounce on its prey.

When you finished, you saw Bada looking at you, her eyes held hunger and a promise that she wouldn't be letting you rest immediately when you get home. You visibly gulped at her expression. Oh you're in trouble. When filming finally wrapped up, you immediately went to Jam Republic's room to change clothes.

"Jesus! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" you could've sworn you passed away for a few seconds when you opened the door to go outside and saw that Bada was standing there, waiting for you. Your teammates couldn't help but chuckle at what was about to happen. They knew all too well.

"Have fun, you two! And be safe going home." Audrey shouts from inside the room as you were stepping out. You turned to look at them, glaring at each one playfully before finally going home with Bada. Bada was completely silent all the way home and it made you nervous but decided to not point it out because you know your fate is sealed the moment you stepped on that stage dancing to Hwasa's new song.

When you finally entered your shared apartment, Bada immediately kissed you. It was hot and passionate, her hands trailing against your sides while your arms were loosely wrapped around her shoulders. She kissed you like there was no tomorrow before moving to kiss you jaw and neck, leaving marks here and there which made you whine in protest but didn't really put in any effort to stop Bada.

"Oh pretty girl.. You looked so sexy earlier.. Do you know how hard it was for me to not go up there and just snatch you mid performance?" Bada whispered and those words sent shivers up your spine.

Bada led you to the bedroom and the both of you were naked in no time. Her mouth trailed kisses all over your body, making sure to abuse those sensitive spots of yours to make you moan and writhe beneath her. She loves hearing the sounds you make, especially when her fingers are working in and out of you.

"Fuck.. Bada, please.." you moaned out loud as she continued to tease you. Her fingers are just barely brushing against your spot and you're getting frustrated because you wanted her to stop teasing and get on with it. Bada chuckles hearing your plea. She could hear the frustration and desperation in your voice which she found so adorable.

"Anything for you, princess." she smirks and you were seeing stars after she said that. She was relentlessly working her fingers inside you, making sure to hit your spot every single time while her mouth worked against your sensitive nub. You're hoarse from moaning and sometimes screaming out her name as she made you come again and again before you're spent.

Bada took care of you, cleaned you up and cuddled with you after everything was done. She was placing kisses on your face while brushing your hair with her fingers to help you fall asleep. You smiled at the gesture and closed your eyes, falling asleep being held by Bada.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Can you do a touya/Dabi fic with shotos twin sister and just had one quirk which was fire so she was tossed aside so she resented her dad and somehow she met dabi/touya and he made her his little spy but she also desperately clings to him at times when she reports to him and stays close since she never got that affection (Btw for outfits she usually wears tank tops and bootcut jeans) please and thank you

Warnings: sorry this took forever for me to get out, been meaning to get to it cuz i miss writing for dabi x todoroki!reader, tons of trigger warnings, sibling incest, siblingxsibling relationships, betrayal, manipulation, resentment, overall dark themes, dysfunctional todoroki family ft, mind the tags, don't read if you don't like the subject matter 🖤

Inhaling deeply before letting out a slow, steady, breath, you pull open the large front door of Endeavor's agency. You could survive a few hours in the presence of your father. Or rather, lingering in the background like the little ghost you were.

No one would dare to say it out loud, but everyone and their mother knew you were the spare twin compared to your slightly older brother Shoto. He was the pride and joy of the Todoroki family, unlike you. At first you believed it to be unfair. You were in the womb at the same time as him. Why didn't you get a ice and fire quirk?

Was it really because he was the first born? That couldn't be it.

Your white flames, while hotter than even your father's, did little to impress him.

You didn't turn any heads when you enter your father's personal floor of his agency's building. This task was easy. Stealing information and sending it to your older brother and his crew became a normal thing for you.

"See, I told you we should have her around." Dabi argued in your defense while caressing the side of your face. "She's a good girl who listens to her big brother, aren't you?" Some would call his tone degrading. You felt the tenderness in his hand though as it delicately angled your face upward so he could look into your mismatched eyes. One the hue of a storm in the sky, the other the color of a raging sea. That’s what Dabi always said before you closed your eyes to go to bed.

Shigaraki and the rest of the League were less thrilled about you being anywhere near them. While you weren't popular like your father or Shoto, many still knew your face. Having you around could be more of a risk than the League were willing to pay.

You just wanted to make him happy, to keep his eyes solely on you. If it involved betraying the other members of your family (including your twin brother Shoto) then so be it. You would let Dabi’s words consume you entirely, making you his mindless slave.

The rest of the League members could chalk it up to Dabi simply using sweet words to manipulate you. He didn’t care about anything. Especially his family. What made you different?

Now that was a secret that Dabi would not utter. His praise filled words were genuine when it came to you and Dabi would be damned if he had to give you up again because of Tomura. He'd make sure you'd make yourself indispensable to the League. They'd have to let you stay.

You were just as determined as Dabi was to keep your place. You hated to even pretend to be under allegiance to your father or any superhero for that matter. They'd always looked down on you for not being like Shoto. Never being enough for them or their world. But you were enough for Dabi.

Slipping the flashdrive up your sleeve, you leave just as you had arrived: unseen. Just in case the cameras hidden throughout the building were focused on you, you'd nonchalantly picked up some of your father's paperwork in appearance of tidying up his workspace like the good daughter you were.

It made you sick to your stomach thinking that not too long ago, all you'd ever wanted was Endeavor's attention and approval. Shoto suppressed his fire ability for years, associating it with his abusive father so you thought you had a shot. You spent hours upon hours practicing with your flames to make them hotter and hotter and finally to where they could melt anything and everything. Leaving not even ash behind.

When you hand Shigaraki the flashdrive, he grudgingly accepts it with a stiff nod. He didn't want to admit that you were providing them incredibly valuable information that all other villain groups lacked.

He ignores Dabi's smug grin as he slung his arm around your shoulder, giving the top of your head a peck. "Knew you could do it." His brings his hand up for his fingers to brush against your cheek.

You felt it again.

The world stopping and all breath departing from your lungs. You wanted Dabi to brand you with his palm, to use his blue flames and scorch your skin so you would always have a piece of him.

Then Dabi leans down, lips caressing the shell of your ear and in his husky tone he calls you "Good girl."

Blushing and highly aware of how Dabi simply towered over you, you shyly duck your head. "Ha. . . it was nothing."

Everyone learned to simply avert their attention when Dabi's affections for you walked on the razor's edge of what was appropriate.

You'd proven to be their perfect spy. Shigaraki couldn't wait to see you in actual battle. That would really be the test of your usefulness.

[trippinsorrows]

https://x.com/hourlyroman/status/1844540517222129691?s=46

https://x.com/mindfulofmani/status/1844563126622032232?s=46

found these tweets on my tl and they give ltye 😩 like the second tweet just said

sitting in his chair in his office, staring with a blank yet killersome expression, roman is annoyed. granted, one could argue that he's always annoyed, and maybe he is.

but, it's only because people are fucking idiots who lack reading comprehension as well as the ability to follow basic instructions.

and he hates that shit. hates when someone's fuck up requires his intervention.

that's usually when said someone ends up hurt. or dead.

but, this time around, both of the prior options, typical for him, are pushed all the way from his mind with the tentative knock on his office door.

immediately sitting up in his chair, roman calls out, "come in."

and as soon as the door open, the fluffiness of dulce speeds by, the dimwitted puppy rushing over to him with all the excitement only to settle herself into the bed that at some point got moved to his office. he might or might not have been the one to do it on a day where all her damn whining was getting so bothersome that he just placed her by him so she'd shut up.

and from that day on, she seems to have the impression that this is also another room where she can settle her lazy ass in the overpriced bed and lounge the day away.

but his brief irritation with the unemployed squatter is again washed away by soft, thick thighs and an innocent smile. roman's gaze easily falls to solana's shapely legs that are on full display in her short little dress.

if there's one thing he'll acknowledge he owes naomi and bayley credit for, it'll always be their dedication in helping solana dress more confidently, cause goddamn.

"you don't have to knock, solana." roman has told her this several times before, and yet every time, she approaches him like she's everyone else. like she needs to be cautious and tentative.

she shrugs, walking over, explaining. "i just don't want to interrupt if you're in a meeting or something."

"doesn't matter," is his easy dismissal as he reaches for her. grabbing her by her hips, he tugs her close, plopping her down in her rightful spot. on his lap. "seeing and speaking to you is better than any damn meeting."

roman can practically see the shy smile on her pretty face as he peppers his lips over her shoulder. "you okay?"

she nods. "are you busy?" he sighs against her, feeling the way she tenses at his reaction. "solana, how many times do i have to tell you that i'm never too busy for you? you need something, just tell me."

she looks over at him, roman both hating and appreciating the way she shifts on his lap. this dress is nice and all, but all that ass she has moving on his dick like that doesn't do anything to help his resolve and desire to prop her up on his desk and fuck her until his name is the only thing she knows how to say.

"i know, i just.....it's kind of silly." she shrugs.

"it's not." he doesn't even know what it is. doesn't need to know. he just knows her being dismissive of it is a good indication that it's not anything frivolous. "tell me."

roman watches the way she opens and closes her mouth at least twice. overthinking. she's gotten a lot better with it, but there's still room for growth.

"i was......i was wondering if–if we–" she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. "if we could go out to dinner again sometime." roman is slightly taken back. of all the things, he wasn't expecting that. "i don't mind cooking. i really don't, but–it was really nice that time we went, even though i know you were upset jimmy interfered."

it's nearly impossible for roman to hide his scowl at the memory of that. not the dinner. she's right. that part was nice. just the part where his annoying ass cousin snooped his nose in business that didn't involve him. that's what has roman rolling his eyes.

solana giggles at his expression, and it's music to his ears. an appreciated sight and gift on a relatively stressful day. as per usual with any interaction with her.

she always seems to make him feel better. whether she realizes it or not. whether she's trying to or not. it's just her gift in this life, it seems. her.

she's his gift.

solana continues, anging her body toward him, roman relaxing even more when she moves her hands around his neck. "so maybe if you look at your calender and see a date that works–"

"tonight." roman cuts her off. "let's go tonight."

her jaw drops, and again, he has to push inappropriate thoughts away. "but–but, you have work."

"i always have work, sol." and he always will. "shit can wait." the world won't end because roman decides to take a night off to take his fine ass wife out to dinner. "we'll go tonight. i'll have a restaurant cleared for us."

she pouts. and yet again, more self-restriction. "but, what about the other people? we can dine with oth–"

"fuck them." his interruption is said with all the seriousness. "i don't give a damn about them. they can do something else."

roman stands up, chuckling at solana's gasp as she tightens her hold onto him. it's brief movement. barely anything. he simply sets her on his desk, scooting her back just enough for where he needs her.

"my wife wants to go to dinner, so i'm taking her to dinner." he continues, solana smiling as he kisses on her neck and moves his hands under her dress, hands messing with the waistband of her underwear.

"roman....." it's a hard groan to suppress. he'll never get tired of hearing his name come out of her mouth. especially when it's breathy and needy. "what–this is your office."

"mmmhmm." he starts tugging, helping her lift her ass off the desk just enough for him to pull them off. her expression is damn near priceless as she watches him stuff them into his pocket. "and?"

"i–this is im–mportant." her stuttering increases as his fingers gloss over lips, nectar already starting to pool just from his light touches. "we ca–" she stops, gripping him by his shoulders when he dips a finger inside her tight little hole.

"yes, it is." roman's dick twitches in his pants watching the way her head falls back, her mouth open before she bites down on her bottom lip. "you want me to stop?"

he will. always will. if that's what she wants.

but, it's not, and he knows it. it's confirmed with how she shakes her head no, taking him by surprise when her cheeks redden, and she makes a surprising but pleasant request of her own. "your....your mouth."

fuck. roman hovers his lips over the top of her breast, fighting temptation to rid her of the dress altogether. "where do you want my mouth?"

she whines underneath him, and he smiles. he's patient with her but never shies away from the opportunity to help her grow with her confidence. with her assertiveness regarding what she wants and how she wants it.

she swallows, answering in a quiet voice. "o–on me."

roman can admit his next act, curling his finger inside of her, watching her arch off the desk, is borderline cruel. definitely teasing. "it is, baby."

"roman," another whine followed by her shifting on the desk, hand moving down to his bicep. "p–please."

another chuckle as he navigates his thumb near her clit. "please what?" he's not really expecting her to say it, recognizes it may be too soon. that she's not there just yet, but it doesn't stop him from trying.

he's just as pleased when she moves her hand to the top of his head and starts to push down, clearly guiding him to where she wants him. his smirk grows as he takes over, climbing on his knees and pushing her dress up to her waist. he's certain pre-cum spills from his dick at the sight of her pussy. pretty and glistening. just for him. always for him.

"that's my girl."

-------

the photos inspired me, friend 😭😭😭😭

[velvetures]

Helluuuu!! I saw your post about sending requests and mine is actually a really simple one cause I don't have a creative but I just though about a ghost hurt/comfort story

Little Secrets

A/N: So this is very self-indulgent... I hope you don't mind. I think there are quite a few people who struggle with taking meds for depression/anxiety or feel guilty for it. Me included. Hopefully, this helps everyone feel valid, seen, and supported. Summary: Task Force 141 is where you belong. But it doesn't make the work easy by any means. You finally get the help you need and try hiding it. Ghost notices and is the one who sets you straight. T/W: depression/anxiety themes, medication, guilt, insecurity of reader, fem reader, and I'm sure I've missed something, so let me know.

photo by: pedropcl

You couldn't keep fighting it for any longer.

Staring down at the two orange bottles of pills in your hands and the directions packets in the other, you felt like you'd failed despite the psychiatrist you'd spoken to reassure you that this was certainly not a failure. Your brain kept refuting that this was a step in the right direction. Working as a professional and legal murderer should've meant you had no feelings. No failures of regulating your emotions or having such miserable trouble falling asleep at night. That nice woman who'd put the prescription in for you said it would take two to three weeks to see a difference. It felt like no time, yet an eternity all at once. Relief felt so far away, but insignificant compared to other people you often compared your personal struggles with.

You weren't homeless, you could eat without worrying, you had clothes and shoes all of the time, and never needed to wonder if you would have enough money to take care of your responsibilities. Education hadn't been a problem, you were well-respected despite being a woman in such a male-dominated field and kept up with your work extremely well. At least, when your brain decided to deny that you had the ability to do anything. Or... repeatedly try to convince you that nothing you did was worth a damn or actually made you useful. Vicious cycles of fighting with your own brain, knowing that you shouldn't feel or think this way but have no strength or way of stopping. None of the "hacks," meditations, or affirmation bullshit touched that panicky feeling you had mere minutes after laying down at night.

The pills shaking around in your hands were your last resort. And they made you feel so fucking embarrassed as you tucked them in your pockets before entering back into HQ. Praying to god that none of the 141 would see you with them or hear that slight sound of them rattling in their bottles. By grace or luck, you were able to avoid all of them and got back to your quarters to stash them under your bed in a small ammo box repurposed for some personal belongings. The directions you'd thrown away on your drive back, just taking a picture of them for reference and ditching the paper copies so you wouldn't have to keep track of those.

"This better fucking help," You breathe out heavily to yourself.

Staring up at the ceiling and almost dreading having to take one tonight before bed and the other when you wake up the next morning. Daily reminders of how you couldn't be hard and cold like the others. Cool and collected like Gaz, confident like Soap, unaffected like Ghost, or just so very reliable like Price. It made you feel like the weak link needing support. You'd never needed it before, and within two years you'd suddenly realized that your own mind was winning in a fight you'd never even been aware of fighting in the first place.

Keeping all of them in the dark about this would be safest. If they didn't need to question your stability, then it wouldn't feel like such pressure to perform. And hopefully, after a few weeks, things might start to shift a little. Maybe enough to where you could begin sorting out the other problems without the image of a cluttered attic representing the state of your head. Taking care to not raise the alert of the 141 wouldn't be easy. Always noticing everything out of sheer training and sharpened instincts. Having no other good ideas... You just settled on doing everything you could to keep your little secrets under wraps.

In the following couple of days, you’d become adjusted to the routine of taking your medications on the surface level. While the one tasked with easing you anxiety and depression wasn’t going to take effect for quite a while longer the other -a sleeping aid- was definitely making a significant impact. You were able to actually fall asleep and stay that way, problem was, with a couple missions impending in the near future, you were getting concerned that if you took them when you were supposed to -on a schedule- that staying awake would be next to impossible. And if you didn’t take them at all… you didn’t want to deal with the consequences of breaking a much more healthy habit.

And the reason you were so worried about the missions was because of a reoccurring problem that the 141 began finding you falling victim to. Thankfully you were all on leave, making it a lot more acceptable, but they still began walking into different rooms around HQ to see you sleeping soundly. No matter the noise level, temperature in the room, or the space you’d fit yourself into. And no one was quite as intrigued with your sudden change in behavior was the Lieutenant.

Ghost liked things to have order, and often used regiment or habit as a very small form of comfort when he felt that his physical situation was one that could be trusted. And while the others just thought you’d found a new safety in HQ and enjoyed sleeping somewhere safe, Ghost could see that something much different was happening. Your sleeping wasn’t a new habit.

It appeared far too quickly, and you oftentimes didn’t look like you had much control over it. There had already been three times where he’d watched you fall asleep on one of the guys late in the evening without as much as a single attempt to fight the drowsiness. While Ghost didn’t like to think that he cared that much about you, he found himself paying even closer attention to you than he had before.

“There she goes…” Soap chuckled quietly, pointing to you on the couch; head laying in Captain Price’s lap, eyes closed and sleeping deeply with your arms tucked against your chest and lying on your side.

Price had a loving hand on your head, and had been idly petting your hair much like a father would despite being hardly of age to act it. Yet, Ghost felt that Price’s warmth towards you wasn’t the entire reason you had yet again fallen asleep before 11 o’clock. Purposefully he’d been keeping count, and this was the fifth time in a week. More than enough to raise alarm with the others… but he was still waiting silently for someone else to bring it up.

Price chuckled, glancing down at you. “I carried her to bed last time,” His pointed look at each of them was more than enough to guess what he was about to say. “Someone else needs to, otherwise you’ll be voluntold.”

Ghost internally groaned. Not only was that kind of behavior what made people soft, but it also made seeing through the mask of affection far more difficult. But before Soap or Gaz took initiative, the Lieutenant was up on his feet and approaching Price with every intention of being the one to take you back to your quarters. Looks got thrown around the room, and Ghost wasn’t stupid enough to not notice. It was the first time he’d gotten this involved, and there was certainly a spectacle of him picking you up carefully enough to not wake you.

Even though he was quite certain it would take a lot more to get you up than that.

Your door opened up into warm, glowing light from a little lamp you’d left switched on. He catches sight of your quilt on the bed and the little rug that made the polished concrete floors look so much less like the jail cell his own quarters resembled. The whole room smelled like you too. Sweet, and a lot like cinnamon rolls. Probably some type of candle or other smelly thing that you had thought was worth spending money on. Plenty more reasons added to the list of what separates the two of you. Debating your differences or the reason you preferred your quarters smelling like a bakery wasn’t his purpose for bringing you back to your room.

But even with laying you down on your bed and pulling the sheet and blankets over you, Ghost wasn’t seeing any of the possible signs that could lead him to better understand what was going on with you. Nothing is out of place though. Your room is pretty much spotless save for a sleep outfit you’d laid out for tonight, but wouldn’t have the chance to get changed into. And right about the time Ghost decided he’d been looking into your business too much, he bumped into your nightstand.

It knocked something off into the floor, bouncing under the bed and clattering a bit.

Ghost sighed, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling and having quite the frustrating experience of dealing with the sudden responsibility of making sure you were cared for. And that meant picking up whatever shit he’d been too busy watching you, to not knock somewhere under the bed he’d have to fish around and find. So he knelt down and pulled his phone from his pocket and used the flash to spot a tube of chapstick near the bed frame foot.

That, and an ammo box with your initials spray-painted onto the side of it.

Compared to everything else, it didn’t look like it fit amongst the rest of your things. And damn if Ghost didn’t have a sudden gut feeling that it was the reason you’d been sleeping so much. Why you’d been so out of character; Setting his teeth on edge. Reaching out… Ghost grabbed the lip balm and got back to his feet and sit it down on the nightstand where it couldn’t be as easily disturbed again.

“G’night kid.” His whispers fell on your unconscious ears as your Lieutenant dismissed himself from your room and back down to his own space.

***

You woke up in your bed after falling asleep somewhere unintentionally, for the who-knows-which time. Just like before, left in whatever clothes you’d been wearing and all of your blankets tucked up tightly around you. It left a lingering sense of disappointment in yourself. A little pinch of sadness rested like a rock in your stomach. You couldn’t really remember falling asleep to begin with. If you ended up keeping this little habit going, there’d be no doubt you would risk everyone on a mission falling asleep at the drop of a hat.

All because of this damn medicine.

One that you needed to grab from under your bed, and sneak into the kitchen so that you could have some water and food. You'd seen one of the tens of sites -during your research of your pills- that it would help digest it better... whether it actually worked or not wasn't something you could tell. But either way, a doctor had said it, and plenty of people taking it agreed. So you grabbed the pill, shoved it in your pocket, and went out into the kitchen to find a glass.

The floors felt cold even with socks on. And while a steady rain poured from the sky, you were more heated with concern that someone would notice you. Notice your sleeping issues, the way you crawled around in the morning for the first couple hours before the pills began working, or the shady way you hid your face in the refrigerator while swallowing down your medication. Surely the stuff had to be working since you'd not been struggling to get your work done throughout the day. But maybe that was the hard part. Taking pills to fix your head, but needing your brain to recognize whether or not you felt better.

"Oh god help me..." You mutter quietly, searching past Soap's energy drinks and Gaz's revolting jug of green juice to find something you could make for breakfast.

A cabinet door shutting behind you nearly stopped your heart. Seeing Ghost's dark eyes evaluating your reaction didn't make your heart rate drop back to normal either. In his typical day-off wear, a pair of well-worn jeans hung low on his hips and an old SAS t-shirt you'd seen him wear countless times stretched tightly over his chest and shoulders. No doubt he'd been up since four. Quite certain he never actually slept, you wondered momentarily if he could benefit from the sleeping tabs you took. But quickly that got covered in anxiety when his eyebrows furrowed at your expression.

"Nothin' to eat?" He asked with a smooth voice, nodding to the refrigerator door you still held open dumbly.

"N-no... just a bunch of shit drinks." You reply, letting the door shut and noticing that he's got a brown bag with grease spots at the bottom corners. He just nods, looking off into the empty common room. Like he's trying to think of the right way to talk shit about both Gaz and Soap's bad choices in hydration.

"Sit. I've got enough to share." He jerks his head to the other side of the counter, turning that wide back to face you, leaving no room for argument.

You're swallowing down a thick bite of a bagel with god-knows-what in British style as Ghost brews tea. Silently making you a cup as well and standing stiffly with both milk and sugar on the table with the expectancy that you tell him how you like it. Not really unusual behavior from him... typically you get along just fine. But it's the fact that he watches so heavily.

"Just sugar, please." You say through a mouthful, covering your mouth with your hand.

He nods, but then starts putting the sugar in, mentioning something about fucking Americans before sliding the mug closer to you with a couple of fingers. Those damned eyes are just as observant as ever when you crumple up the finished sandwich before he even steeps his own drink. It made you nervous. Wondering if those pills were helping with your appetite too. The psychiatrist said it could; Something about feeling less stressed can give your body more opportunities to worry about being hungry. It was one of those facts on the medication packet you'd taken pictures of.

"Plans for today, L.t.?" You ask, sipping the tea, eyes grazing over the cup rim as you stare at the back of his head.

Mask rucked up high enough to eat and drink freely he nods his head. Leaning his lower back against the edge of the kitchen counter

and resting one hand back.

“Yeah, you?”

You shake your head uselessly, “No. Maybe some laundry, but I’m not really even due. Wouldn’t be worth the water in the machine.”

He hums lowly, taking a drink of his tea. You can hear his swallow and a steady exhale of air that follows. Whether it’s him cooling off the steaming cup or just breathing, you cant tell. But it’s so steady that you actually mimic the tempo of it. Feeling the way it expands and contracts your lungs smoothly. Almost settling. Much like L.t. himself in that way. Terrifying until you see just how easily you can be around him. He’s always quiet and composed, even when there’s plenty of reasons not to be. You wished it was something you could do too. Maybe it would help the task force if you didn’t have to spend your energy keeping yourself at an unnoticeable level of consistent panic.

“Know anythin’ about cars?”

“No,” You’re quick to add on. “But I can learn fast.”

You watch the way the back of his mask slides down further and how his head tilts from side to side to settle it comfortably. Seeing the rest of the tea get dumped into the sink and his own sandwich bag get crumpled up. He’s silent as he washes the cups used and methodically cleans up after the pair of you. Even reaching across the counter to swipe a couple of crumbs off your t-shirt with a subtle nod to his own satisfaction.

“I like to hear it,” His hand palmed at the back of your neck. Gently tugging you off the barstool, and grabbing your jacket to toss it to you. “You’re comin’ with me then.”

Learning about cars actually became quite easy… when Ghost was teaching.

He explained the parts clearly, what his goal was, and didn’t get pissed when you handed him the wrong size socket wrench on the first try. On the other end, you’d only been working next to him -well, sitting on the wheel well- for a couple of hours when you started getting tired again. Almost helpless to your own frustration, you yawned. Fighting the sleepy feeling valiantly, and taking as detailed of mental notes as possible while watching Ghost’s greased knuckles tighten a bracket holding his master cylinder in place. Surely it was a cosmic joke. L.t. was fixing his brakes, and it felt like someone had stomped on yours.

“Hand me that,” He muttered, head stuck down in a gap between his engine block and alternator, still effortlessly pointing at a pair of channellocks. “And get in for me.”

You did as he asked, yawning one more time. Trying to blame your sudden exhaustion on the rain pelting the metal roof above you. Sliding into the back of the car and kicking off your boots to let them rest on the concrete floor outside of it. Attempting to be polite by not getting any dirty spots on the mats of the -very original- DB4 GT Aston he’d given you trust to even sit in. The leather seats help you glide into the driver’s seat, giving you a very slim look at Ghost through the gap in the hood.

“What exactly am I doing in here?” You ask, loud enough so that he can hear you.

It prompts his head to pop up from inside the engine bay, giving you those same, observant eyes from earlier. He looks back down, reaches in and taps on something harshly, then looks back to you.

“Roll it over.”

The car starts effortlessly. Practically purring under you, and echoing in the metal hangar making it sound all the more ruggedly beautiful. The whole car hums, and as you watch Ghost go back to focusing on something in front of him, you feel the heat come through the dash. It’s a perfect storm that lulls you even closer to sleep. A dangerous thing, considering the one man who could figure out what was wrong with you was the only one close enough to see. Hell, you weren’t even sure he didn’t already have it figured out, and wasn’t planning some way to tell Price about it and have you removed from the task force.

Unfit for duty.

You could just picture it now. Red pen in Price’s handwriting detailing your medications and how it was grounds from honorable discharge. Perfectly common in the military, but it felt like death in your hazy mind.

Not that you could fight it for much longer.

Because by the time the Lieutenant had finished his little bit of work, he came into sight of you, slumped over in his driver’s seat with you lips parted and your arms wrapped around yourself. Nothing short of a pretty sight for sore eyes. His car had damn near rocked you sleep, and for once, Ghost felt his heart couldn’t take the feeling of waking you up. He’d watched you all morning. Gauging your reactions, your lack of conversation, and the way you tried to keep from showing him any sign of being tired. Initially he wanted to be angry. Mad that you were hiding something from the team… from him. But seeing you sleeping there, he knew there was a fight in your head. A fight he knew well. So he left you there to sleep.

Turning off the engine to keep from filling the garage with exhaust, but pulling up one of the small space heaters close to the open door to keep you from getting cold while he worked. Making small adjustments, looking over future jobs, and even entertaining the thought of adjusting you over in the seat a little bit so that he could drive-test his handiwork. But that didn’t come, because Soap arrived with a grin on his face and no idea that you were sleeping.

Until Ghost told him to lower his goddamn voice.

“Sleepin’ again bonnie?” Soap chuckled to himself, looking at you before back to Ghost. “How long’s she been out?”

Ghost shrugged, “Few hours.” Really he hadn’t been watching the clock; far too comfortable to concern himself with it.

“I know you’ve been tryin’ to figure it out,” He started back, resting his hands on the hood. “Why she’s doin’ this so much. Have ya’?”

Ghost shook his head. “No. Not yet, but I’m not concerned.”

Johnny laughed softly, slapping Ghost on the back and beginning to walk away. “I never took you for the type to be worried, L.t.. But since you’re so reassurin’ I’ll take it t’heart.”

Any way Ghost came at that statement, he felt himself on the end of a losing battle. Maddening. Losing a fight wasn’t in his nature. Even if that meant he had to take some of the most fucked up torture to reach it. But what bothered him more than Soap knowing he was concerned about you was the knowing you weren’t okay.

Days out in the field were bad enough. But when they got worse, you were always there. And maybe you didn’t feel much better than he did, yet you always held softness. For everyone. For him. A kind of understanding and acceptance that wasn’t required, or exactly approved of in this line of work. You could keep a secret better than anyone he knew, and while he didn’t burden you with a single one of his, there was always the foreign comfort in being able to come with them if he wanted to. Hiding your own feelings wasn’t right though.

Selfish maybe. Thinking it was okay to linger in his own issues and still demand you give him yours.

But hiding behind his rank and position over you meant he could make that kind of decision without any questioning. A type of don’t fucking ask why that saved him face when carrying you from his car back to your room after you still hadn’t woken up nearly seven hours after passing out in his car. Shouldering open the door just like the night before, he expected to see nothing out of place. The same lip balm on the side table, the same rug, and maybe a different night shirt since you’d mentioned doing laundry. But there was something out of place. And damn if it didn’t make his gut twist up in a ugly kind of feeling. One he’d not felt in years, but certainly recognized as soon as he spotted the orange pill bottle sitting on your bed.

It made sense.

The sleeping. The different behavior. The reason you’d practically swallowed a whole fucking sandwich for breakfast when a cup of tea would typically be all you stomached until afternoon. And thank god… you were finally starting to look a bit fuller. Getting prettier every day, and he finally had something to place the blame on. All hesitations about you being able to handle the upcoming missions faded once he got a good look at the bottle. A medication, funnily enough, that Ghost was well-acquainted with. It wasn’t part of his own personal line-up in his medicine cabinet, but it was one he’d taken for a while.

You’d been in need of some help, and luckily for you, it hadn’t been nearly as hard for you to get help as it had been for him. Actually asking for what you needed -and while frustrating- decided to try and manage it without anyone else’s knowledge. Ghost couldn’t think of a better scenario. Realizing that the only thing he needed to know about was your side effects, and how to best manage them alongside you. Thank fuck you weren’t sick… well… sick in a way that someone couldn’t help you with. A way that he couldn’t help.

So, he sit down in on the floor in your room and waited.

Your wake-up call came in the form of sleepy eyes opening to see the massive silhouette of Ghost sitting in your floor. Dark eyes much softer than you’d expected, and a much more concerning sight of your pill bottle resting in his massive hand. A sight that sat you up ramrod straight in your bed, gasping softly and staring at him with wide eyes.

“Don’t tell Price.” You sputter, rushing to get the words out of your mouth. Terrified that he’s going to get up and run out the door. Just sitting long enough to let you get a good look at his plan before exposing you to the Captain as some sick kind of satisfaction.

His eyes narrow a little, “Don’t tell Price?” His voice sounds hoarse. “Don’t tell Price?”

It sounds that much more broken and gritty when he repeats it. Standing up to meet you a bit more level, fisting the pills in his hand, and lightly making them shake. He can’t understand your fear. Completely blind to the fact that -much like him- you’re fearful of being shamed. Misunderstood for it. Or worse. Ghost can’t recognize why you’re looking at him as if he’s going to be the reason your life ends. When in all reality, you don’t see how he’s trying to figure out why you didn’t feel safe coming to him.

“You’ve been takin’ these… fallin’ asleep on everyone, and-and struggling for who knows how the fuck long…” It’s hard for Ghost to keep his tone even, thinking about it. “Why didn’t you tell me. you should’ve told me. Said something. Anything.”

Caving in on itself, your chest burns. Eyes locked on his and scanning every confusing moment of emotion and each shift as it comes and goes.

“You wouldn’t…”

Ghost takes a fast step closer, “I wouldn’t what?” His hand drops the pills on the bed and quickly grabs your face, soft fingers pressing into your jaw. “I wouldn’t get it? I wouldn’t do what you needed me to? Wouldn’t let you sleep on me?”

Your lips open in surprise at the softness in him. All of him. The gentleness of his fingers, how his eyes lay silkily on you. Even his voice, falling so softly despite it’s rough tone and deep sound, feels like he’s terrified of you being scared away from him. Like that gentle hold on your face is all he can manage, and he’d rather do anything other than let you pull away from it.

“You have to know…” he starts weakly. “You have to know that - that I would do… anything you needed me to. Anything to make this easier for you. Even somethin’ small, I’d do it for you, honey.”

reblogs & comments are appreciated 🤎

[aro-culture-is]

hey all. been quite a while. we recently moved cities, quit our job that was beyond our physical ability, and are about to try to finish our degree in materials science and engineering...

and we're thinking we're gonna try again with this blog. the 700 asks are a little too intimidating of backlog though, so we've decided that we're gonna mass delete prior asks (excluding the one submitted today? fun fact you were the first since uh. january i think) and see how it goes. no promises.

a few things we want to reiterate if you want to submit stuff:

aro in the title is short for the aromantic community as a whole, including anyone aro spectrum, questioning folks, or anyone asking good faith questions about these things. a great resource for questions about words is AUREA.

be nice. to others, obviously, but also to yourselves please! I don't mean that you can't vent ever, but tbh... the huge amount of "aro culture is [hating yourself/others/being aro/etc]" was why we burnt out on this blog. there were so many self-hating things that were being sent in, and there's a limit to how much of that someone can handle. especially a multiply disabled, queer, trans, college-dropout service worker.

as we've said before, the point of this blog was never serious. it was a gimmick blog for funny things. serious stuff is okay, but like... please be silly! have fun. aro culture is green :)

if you truly feel a trigger tag is necessary, and it cannot be filtered on your end, please for the love of everything tell me a damn tag to use. ie, 'spiders cw'

we are radically inclusive for all good faith identities. there is strength in solidarity, and infighting about shit like 'validity' or 'making sense [to you/outsiders]' reeks of respectability politics. be annoying somewhere else, or better yet, consider what is the most materially useful thing you can do to make your IRL community better today. some ideas: call your senators or representatives about an issue, create a group chat for your apartment building so folks can get to know their neighbors, volunteer for an event in your area. Learn about deradicalization, deescalation, and community building. Build a strong community.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Reading "changes" kinda make me want to request a fic when reader and Casey were in their 50s or 60s and talking about the silly little things they used to do when they were younger when they went for a little trip out of country for retirement or something.

Getting Older, Too

Casey Novak x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language, getting older, changes in ability (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.5k

Summary: You and Casey, now retired, are vacationing in Jasper National Park, but you find that your bodies aren't quite as capable as they used to be.

NOTE: For any who don't know, Jasper National Park has just experienced a devastating wildfire. I went hiking in Jasper in 2022, and it's truly one of the most beautiful places I've ever been, so I wanted to pay tribute here.

You shivered against the morning chill as you looked out over the Athabasca River, a light fog coming off of it, pinpricked by early morning sun. Decades later, and you still couldn’t manage to sleep in like Casey did, even on vacation. It was colder here in Jasper National Park than you’d expected, though it often warmed considerably by midday.

You groaned as you lowered yourself into an Adirondack chair, wishing you’d brought more than a sweatshirt to keep warm out here. But you didn’t want to go in and wake up Casey, either. She would never admit it, but she tired more easily than you these days. She was, after all, almost ten years older than you. And neither of you were spring chickens. She’d retired last year, finally, but still freelanced on the side. But one of the perks of both of you being in retirement was that there were now no limits to your vacations. You’d already spent two weeks in Banff and had decided to extend your trip into Jasper and drive the Icefields Parkway.

But Casey was tired, bone tired, you could tell. You’d gotten some good hikes in, but she’d pushed herself too far yesterday. She’d insisted you go to all six bridges along the Maligne Canyon loop, even though the sixth bridge added a solid 2.5 miles round trip. You’d made it, but you’d both been exhausted by the end, and Casey had conked out in bed before you even had dinner and had been asleep ever since.

You shook your head and smiled to yourself thinking about her. Fiery, stubborn Casey. Just as hard-headed as she’d been when you met her playing rec league softball 29 years ago. Her hair was gray now instead of red, but just as pretty, as you told her again and again. It wasn’t that she’d softened over the years exactly. She’d still fight someone if the situation called for it; it was that she’d grown more accustomed to laughter and joy, that she let herself now, sometimes, expect the best instead of the worst. She gave herself time to rest and savor and appreciate things.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, breathing deeply to inhale the scent of the pine trees. It really was cold out here. You thought about going to the property’s restaurant for a cup of coffee instead as an alternative to waking Casey with the noisy drip machine in your chalet. But then you’d have to purchase the all-inclusive breakfast and damned if you were going to spend $25 to get a cup of coffee and a croissant.

“You’re up early,” Casey observed, coming into view, her voice still rough with sleep.

“No, you’re up early,” you argued, smiling softly at her. “I’m always up at this time.”

“Here, take this,” she said, handing you a steaming mug of coffee.

“God, I love you.”

“Wait! This one too.” Casey handed you another cup of coffee and you looked at her, confused. “Now lift your arms up.”

“Why?” you asked, but obliged, trying not to spill from either coffee mug.

She grabbed a blanket from over her shoulder and tucked it around you so that only your head and arms peeked out, then settled herself in the chair next to yours with her own blanket.

“Okay,” she said, getting comfortable, holding out her hand for her coffee.

You beamed at her. “You really are the love of my life, you know that?”

She sipped from her mug and patted your hand. “It’s been thirty years, honey. I should hope so.”

She groaned a bit in her seat, wincing as she shifted her weight.

“You alright?” you asked. When she didn’t answer, you raised your eyebrows and leaned toward her. “Hmm… you know, one might think that maybe, just maybe, you overdid it yesterday? Even though your beautiful, smart wife said during the hike, ‘Casey, my love, you seem tired. Maybe we shouldn’t do all six bridges.’”

Casey shot you an amused glare. “You know, it’s incredible that my beautiful, smart wife, after thirty years in New York, still can’t dress appropriately for the weather and would, likely, freeze to death without me.”

“Touché.” You shrugged.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffee, enjoying the early morning sun and the quiet and the gurgling of the river below you.

You took Casey’s free hand and ran your thumb in circles over the wrinkles there. She’d been so self-conscious of them when they started to show, but you told her they were beautiful, like the rings of a tree trunk. They showed her growth and what she’d been through, and you loved them.

“Are you really okay, though?” you ventured.

She shrugged. “I’m pretty sore, but I’ll be alright.”

“We don’t have to hike today. We could just take it easy.”

Casey shook her head. “I don’t want to miss it. We only have so much time here, you know? When in Rome… or Jasper, I guess.”

“Hey,” you said, struggling against the chair so you could sit up and place your hand on Casey’s cheek. “The trails will still be there tomorrow. If your body needs to rest, we should rest. I’m sore, too. I’m not gonna be mad about a day lounging around in the mountains with you.”

Casey still didn’t look convinced.

“We could go to the hot springs, we haven’t been there yet. Or to that fancy hotel spa and get massages…” you suggested.

Casey scoffed. “You hate massages.”

“I do, but you’re sore, so…”

Casey sighed, taking another sip of coffee and squeezing your hand. “I just don’t want to hold you back, honey,” she said quietly.

“Are you kidding me!?” You gestured toward the mountains in front of you, the river, the forest. “Casey, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even be here. I’d be too scared to go alone. You don’t hold me back, love. You move me forward.”

Casey looked like she might cry. “I hate getting old sometimes,” she muttered.

You wished so badly that Casey could see herself the way you did–strong and capable and brave and full of life. Yes, it was hard to grow old. Yes, it was frustrating that your body–and hers–could no longer do all the things they’d done before. But it had been in exchange for a life truly worth living–and you were still living it!

“Do you remember our first hike together?” you asked her, trying to lighten her mood. “When we went camping in the Catskills with your parents?”

She cracked a smile. “Yeah. God, you were so scared.”

You’d happily be the butt of the joke this morning to get Casey out of her head. “Okay,” you protested playfully. “Well, in my defense, we did get lost.”

Casey’s eyes lit up, the way they always did before she laughed. “We weren’t lost. I took us on an alternate route.”

“An alternate route!?” You’d had this argument so many times that it was like reading a script, like watching a favorite comedy over and over again or the well-worn pages of a favorite book. “To the side of the highway where we had to call an Uber to take us back to the campsite?”

She chuckled and shrugged. “I got us back, didn’t I!?”

“God!” you exclaimed, feigning frustration even as you grinned ear to ear, even you as you held her face in your hands. “You were such a stubborn asshole. You’re still a stubborn asshole.” You sighed, rubbing your thumb over her dimpled cheek. “Look, today’s hike was gonna be at Maligne Lake, right?”

She nodded, sadness briefly overtaking her face again.

“I’m pretty sure they have a boat tour,” you continued. “Why don’t we do that instead?”

Casey looked like she was ready to fight you on it, so you leaned forward and kissed her, in love with the little noise of surprise she made, as if it was your first kiss again and not your ten thousandth.

“Please?” you needled as you broke apart, giving her your most convincing smile and biggest eyes. “For me?”

Even before she kissed you again, you could tell you’d won her over. She patted your cheek. “For you. Not for me,” she insisted, holding onto your hand as she sipped her coffee.

You smiled and held your coffee close to your chest. So stubborn, your wife. Stubborn and passionate and beautiful and funny and everything you’d wanted in a partner and more. You’d spent almost thirty years of your life–a full half of it–with Casey. You knew she was struggling with getting older, and you knew there’d come a time when you’d struggle, too. But right now, you were just excited. Excited for whatever future you had left, the years of uninterrupted joy and travel and fun. The big moments and the little moments together. It could only get better from here and, god, it was already so good.

“I love you, Case,” you whispered, your voice breaking through the quiet sounds of nature that surrounded you.

She lifted your hand and brought it to her lips, and no words were needed.

[justatalkingface]

New leaks are out

Izuku loses One for All. The one thing he wanted in life was to be a hero, and we all know Horikoshi wouldn’t let him be one without a Quirk. He got One for All for a year and change and then it just gets taken away from him.

It’s so mean-spirited

*siiiiigh*

This shit. This shit is why I'm reluctant to catch up.

Worst thing is, this has been broadcasted as coming for awhile, because that MHA movie? Hero Rising, or whatever, the one where Izuku hands over OFA? If you believe (random shit I found on the internet) (which... admittedly, seems sus, I'm not sure of the validity) that was apparenlty supposed to be the original ending.

(Never mind that Bakugou only came into prominence after MHA got rolling, so unless he was forking it over to... I don't know, Shigaraki, or Uraraka, or Shoto (... my god, imagine the look on Endeavor's face if his anti-All Might child gained All Might's power and became his defacto heir, that'd be amazing) or something, that's already a different ending than the 'original' ending.)

That said, that rumor seems pretty damn validated now, doesn't it? I really don't get why Hori seems to hate his own character so damn much, because the first couple of chapters he seemed to like him well enough; the narrative respected him, he made sense, there was a steady build up of confidence and ability... and then he just... lost all interest, and just seemed to include him more and more grudgingly every time he showed up.

Considering how often the main character had to show up, it really feels like Hori built quite a grudge over the years. And between how damn hard Izuku has been side lined in every possible way, and how much Bakugou is being thrown into the spotlight, this really isn't surprising, all things considered.

A good deal of manga like to end with 'main character is brought down to normal', and honestly I've never liked it; I can only think of one where it was really done well, where I liked the ending (the main character never wanted it in the first place, he always wanted to be normal), and even in setting it only works because shonen manga in general love the 'secret world hidden from the rest of society' bit, so they can 'retire' gracefully to being a normal person without any issues (beyond probable PTSD), but in MHA they can't even do that, because there isn't a hidden world; Izuku is world famous, and without powers I'd honestly expect some random psycho to revenge kill him to get some fame, like that Ending guy.

(...I hate that that doesn't seem impossible still?)

Moreover, big part of that kind of build up is that the character has grown up, and doesn't need the super powers any more, to save the world from the world ending threat, to live the chunnibyo dream of being special instead of being part of society, but being a hero is a job, a career he can do for most of his life and make money in. The super police are still needed, because as far as I can tell, the overarching problems haven't been resolved at all. Just like how Naruto ended up, status quo is god, and the normal that was once terrible and to be fought against is good and just.

And, of course, he's just going to be happy about it, too, I know he is. That's how this kind of thing goes. He's going to be happy about losing everything he's always wanted, even though his friends (which he only got from being heroes) are still going to be heroes, even though Bakugou is almost certainly going to be number one at this point (speaking of which; whatever happened to the 'this is how I became the greatest hero' bit? Let me guess, he'll be referred to that somewhere, and that'll be it.)

He's going to be happy and content with what he was allowed to have (and even though he'll never be able to truly realize it, it is allowed, it's that Hori will allow him this much), and will never dream of wanting anything more. Just like an abused spouse in a truly fucked up marriage that has accepted that this is the 'best' they're going to ever get.

[4ngelholic]

"leave me.. don't leave me.."

ft. riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto

cw. angst, might be ooc(?)

! reader = prefect !

a/n. kinda got repetitive but at he same time not, sorry lmao 😭

“whispers could be heard, it's almost like they weren't even trying to hide it. he shrugged it off simply thinking it wasn't that important for him to intervene. soon enough there was an odd feeling building in his chest when the constant whispering doesn't seem to stop especially when he feels like the topic is about him. and when his close friend tells him the reason why, he can't seem but to feel guilty and not deserving you.”

¹ | RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"why are they together? he's so controlling and strict..."

"watch him start controlling them in their relationship."

"he's scary too.. what would happen to his partner when he forces the queen of hearts' rules onto them.."

─ he figured that it was about him and you when trey told him about it.

─ he wasn't happy about it. when he heard what they said from trey, he wanted to collar them all.

─ controlling? strict? after his overblot incident he was more lenient than he was before. but there's people still chatting their mouths about it?

─ but.. what did you think about all of this? did you think the same way as the others did?

─ please don't.. it hurts thinking about how you would look at him with such disappointment in your eyes.

² | LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

"did you hear about his unique magic? it's so terrifying.."

"it's even more scary knowing he overblotted with such a dangerous ability.."

"knowing that his partner is dating him even after the incident that probably could've gotten them killed is.."

─ ruggie didn't even need to tell him about what the other students were yapping about he could hear them from miles away.

─ if his unique magic is so terrifying why talk about it when he could simply do it to them?

─ not like he could anyways..

─ he barely uses his unique magic. so what's the point in bringing it up?

─ but wait, why did they have to mention you into this?

─ why did they have to mention you being killed by him?

─ what would happen if you were to hear this? would you think that your life is on the line when you're with him?

─ don't you dare cast him away and leave him in the shadows like the rest of them did..

³ | AZUL ASHENGROTTO

"how could they forgive AND date him after taking their dorm?"

"I can't imagine what would happen to them if he breaks up with them for his benefit.."

"watch him use his contracts on them again."

─ no one had to tell him at all about the whispers that was carried and flooded around the school.

─ he accidentally overheard everything when he was returning to octavinelle along with the tweels.

─ jade suggested that he and floyd could take care of them for him so they wouldn't dare to cross azul again.

─ at first, azul almost agreed allowing them to do whatever what they were going to do.

─ then in a flash, your face appeared across his mind.

─ what would you think of him if you found out?

─ would you disagree? or agree with them? even though he doesn't want to admit it, he knows that you deserve better and you shouldn't have forgiven him after what he did to you.

─ what would happen if you do agree..?

─ he doesn't want to lose you. because he knows damn well, you were the best thing that happened to him in his whole life.

─ it didn't matter to him if he had to face his past over and over again. don't leave him.

|| comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! ||

[starlight-artbby]

Y'all the newest X-Men 97 episode blew me away. Like the animation ate down and it was just so good like I was thoroughly enjoying every second.

I knew that Scott was gonna hold some grudge against the professor and I don't blame him. He left his dream to his team and honestly failed him and damn did this episode remind him that over and over again. Especially Rogue who clearly was fed up with his ass. And I swear I was gonna cry when I saw her wearing Remy's coat and I had a tear nearly fall from my eye when Kurt looked so devastated to tell her again the Remy is dead like ugh I was in so much pain.

Speaking of pain Jubilee and Roberto. How dare they do this to me. I knew from a mile away that Roberto Was gonna go with Magneto (along with Rogue) and I completely understand why. His mother straight up abandon him and handed him to the people who wanted to kill him. Like of course he is gonna be pissed but when Jubilee said you still have me I felt like a part of me died because he walked away and that shit had to hurt.

Now I completely laughed when Magneto said the line about Lilandra. I can't remember exactly what he said but I do recall being gagged and gooped and not him telling Xavier to shut up like if those two don't just go to couples counseling...

Now I won't lie, Morph had me when he pretending to be Sinister so if I were Bastion I most certainly was gonna get caught. May I also express how I thought that Beast was going to get pieced through the chest during that fight sequence like I was on the edge of my toes.

Once again Sinister proved to me why I hate him so much. Having Jean fight her own son?!? Foul and then her contacting Cyclops to tell him that she loves him!!! Like why does X-Men 97 like hurting us? And if Storm or Forge ends up dead, I am most certainly fighting someone.

Now the new looks... Huh... Why did they have to put that cap on my boy Scott. And Jean she ate down with the boots but the gloves and the mask?!?! No mam. I loved Rogues outfit along with Logan's. They could've had morph in something a lot better. Kurt ate as usual and of course Jubilee ate up her look along with Storm. I couldn't tell if beast put on anything different so I can't say much about that but regardless, some of the team needed a better wardrobe.

Now I know some people will probably get mad at Rogue and Roberto for going with Magneto but honestly, Rogue was there on Genosha. It has messed her up so badly and we continue to see the side effects till this very episode. I already explained Roberto so I honestly am not mad at him but I am sad that he couldn't see that Jubilee was there for him just like sadly Rogue couldn't see that the team would be there for her but honestly, their feelings are still valid as fuck and I don't want to hear anyone else say other wise.

Also why did they have to do Wolverine like that!! Huh!!! Like y'all better have his regeneration ability kick in. I also feel so bad cause I know that nobody was expecting murder to occur up there that's for sure.

(also Scott stopping Xavier from forcing Magneto to return power was everything to me cause he did it for Jean and it's time he shows that woman some love.)

Also where is Bishop!?!?!

Now for the things I enjoyed. I loved the new opening. I was so happy to see Storm back in it again. It really made things start off well for the episode. I loved Rogue clocking Xavier and telling him exactly what she needed to say.

My favorite part of the episode though had to be when Jean and Storm had reunited and when they parted ways on the mission. Those two are sisters and I love the show for reminding us of their incredible bond I just lived to see it.

I also enjoyed Scott and Jean giving each other a hug before they parted ways and when Scott gave Nathan that advice I truly loved it. I am hoping that'll stop him from attacking Jean (possibly) if not, Jean will girlboss her way out of there.

I can't wait for the final episode (I hope I get Remy and Logan and anyone else who gets injured back) ♡♡♡♡

[dw19791967]

That Feeling Part 4

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual), Sam x Eileen, unnamed waitress

Y/N POV

Warnings: Started off cute and fluffy but ended very angsty! (sorry). Series warnings- language, unrequited love, angst, unwanted kissing, depression, anxiety, and feelings.

Trigger Warning: This fic contains discussions of depression and anxiety and feelings that go along with those. If that could be triggering for you I would skip out on this one. It is based on some experiences I have had in real life.

*All mistakes are my own!

As promised, here's part 4. I kinda hate it, but hopefully you don't. I'm thinking possibly one more part. Let me know what you think!

GIF is not mine.

____________________________________________________________

Dean had followed through and had been better since we had our fight that night. 

Hunts had been coming in slower. Sam had been spending most of his free time with Eileen. 

I had fallen into a funk. I don’t know if it is from all the emotions or because the year was coming to an end. I just didn’t feel as well as I had previously. I also was tired of being alone. I know I had Sam and Dean but that is different than having someone to hold and do cute couple things with. But I was also scared to put myself back out there. I was better but still felt broken. It’s hard for anyone who didn’t know me, really, to understand. I tried to focus on other things but that was easier said than done. Especially when I had been stuck with Dean the last few weeks.

We had spent the day at the bunker. Dean spent most of the day working on Baby. Sam was out with Eileen. I spent my day cleaning. It helped to keep my mind busy.

I had just finished my shower and was resting on my bed when Dean came in to check on me.

“You doing ok Sweetheart?” Dean asked as he was leaning against my door.

“I think so, kinda exhausted from cleaning but I’ll get my second wind here soon.” I smiled at him.

He smiled back, “Do you feel like going out tonight?” 

I pondered the idea for a moment.

“That may be good, I am feeling a bit stir crazy.”

“Great, we can leave in about an hour or so. I need to take a shower and change.”

I nodded at him. “Sounds good De.”

He left. I was a little suspicious, it’s not that we don’t go out, it’s just we usually do it with Sam. It’s not that I am afraid to spend time alone with Dean, well that’s not entirely true. I was slightly scared because of my own feelings, but I knew it would be good for me to get out of the bunker for a bit.

I decided to do my makeup and dress up some. I did it for myself, looking my best always makes me feel better. I decided to wear my black skinny jeans, blue sweater, and my black boots with a slight heel. I wore my hair in its natural state, I wet it down some to contain the frizz. I wore my makeup mostly natural, but filled in my brows and wore mascara. I always felt like this made the whole look come together. I grabbed my black crossbody and my black leather jacket.

___________________________________________________________

I met Dean in the war room. He was wearing a black shirt with his jean flannel, black jeans, his black boots, and his black jacket. His hair was spiked up, I could tell he put effort in to fix it. He looked damn good. 

He looked at me, I could tell he wasn’t used to seeing me dressed up like this for when we go out.

“What?” I looked at him.

He snapped out of his stare and coughed. 

“Uhhh nothing, you just look really nice. Not that you don’t everyday, it’s just…yeah I’m gonna stop talking.” He blushed.

I laughed, I could tell he was nervous for whatever reason. I was blushing too now, I wasn’t used to him telling me I looked good. I know that being overweight doesn’t mean I don’t have the ability to be beautiful, I just don’t usually think I am unless I am dressed up. I usually look like an anemic rat without some blush on my face and my hair is crazy wild without some taming. I knew better than to argue with him though.

“Thanks De, you look good yourself.” I winked at him. Couldn’t hurt to flirt with him, I knew he was just joking with me anyway. 

He coughed again and more blush rose to his cheeks. 

He looked at me and smiled. “We should get going.”

________________________________________________________

He had insisted on taking me to my favorite local diner. 

We had just ordered and I was stirring my straw in my drink. 

“Your awful quiet this evening De.” I continued messing with my straw.

“I’m just enjoying a peaceful evening with one of my favorite people.” He smiled.

“I appreciate you doing this for me. I know you have noticed I've been in my head a little more than usual. I don’t want you to feel obligated to take care of me though.” I finally looked up at him.

He looked at me with his eyes, it felt like they were glaring into my soul.

“I don’t feel obligated to do anything Sweetheart. I enjoy spending time with you and you mean the world to me. You also deserve to have a night out.” 

I smiled at him. 

Next thing I knew, our waitress had brought us our food.

She sat the food down and smiled at Dean. 

She was pretty. Someone he would normally go for. She had a great smile. I couldn’t blame her for admiring him.

“Anything else I can get for you all sugar?” She put her hand on Dean’s arm.

He smiled at her. “Nope I think we are all set darling.”

I felt uncomfortable. It was obvious we were here together and here she was hitting on him while ignoring me. 

She winked at him and began to walk away.

I felt sick to my stomach. I should have never put myself in this situation. 

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom.” I told Dean while trying to keep my tears at bay.

“Everything ok?” He asked with concern in his eyes.

I gave him a small nod.“ Yeah, I’ll be back in a minute.”

I moved quickly to the bathroom. I stood at the sink and took some deep breaths. 

I called Sam.

“Hey Y/N, everything ok?” 

“Um kinda. Do you think you and Eileen could swing by Mel’s place and pick me up?” I knew they were still in town based on his location.

“Yeah we can but where's Dean? Maybe you should call him first.”

“He’s here with me but I think he will be heading out with our waitress soon. Please Sam.” I started crying quietly.

Sam sighed. “We will be there in 10.”

“Thanks Sammy.” I hung up. 

I decided I was going to have to face Dean now. 

He saw me and began to speak. “Hey I was starting to get worried your food is probably cold ...what's wrong?”

I sighed and sat down.

“Sam and Eileen are on their way to get me, I figured I would get ahead of the game and find a ride since I figured you and our waitress would be spending the rest of the evening together.”

“What are you talking about Y/N?” He looked confused.

I scoffed. “Dean she was clearly flirting with you and you were giving it right back to her. It’s ok, I understand. You deserve to have a good time and I won’t be in the way.”

Dean sighed. I could tell he was beginning to get angry.

“Y/N, I have no idea what you are talking about. Yeah she was kinda flirty but I was kind in return. That’s all. I didn’t do anything to let her think she had a chance. I wanted to spend tonight with you.” He smiled at me.

“I know what I saw Dean, and I know you. You aren’t one to turn down a night of fun.” 

He frowned, I could tell I hit a nerve. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings but I didn’t have the energy to pretend I didn’t see what had happened. 

“Wow, I’m glad to finally know the one person I thought really knew me thinks I’m still a man whore.” He scowled at me.

I felt bad. I shouldn’t have said what I said. 

I started to speak but he stopped me.

“You know what, do us both a favor and save whatever you have to say. I thought you knew me better than that Y/N but I guess not. You can wait for Sam and Eileen, I’m leaving.” He threw money down on the table. 

He turned back to me before he left. He looked at me. I could tell he was upset.

“And do me a favor when you get back to the bunker, don’t talk to me. I need some time and a break from you.”

He left and I was left there alone. Only my tears to comfort me.

I broke down completely.

What had I done?

Tag List:

@hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist

@pandasrdbest2341

[funnyburneracct]

Hi, I'm Xiao/burningrqs. this post is going to be long. Posting this from a burner so that it doesn't go down the drain when we deactivate.

But essentially, this is an apology to the radqueer community for multiple different things. I'm going to do my best to type this out as well as possible, and I apologize if I miss anything or word things poorly. I am going to explain myself to the best of my abilities, but please keep in mind that my explanations do not excuse my actions by any means.

Post under the cut.

for those who don't want to read it though, TL;DR: I was a complete asshole and I'm genuinely very sorry about it.

So, I want to start off by apologizing in general for the "burning radqueers" thing. Not only was it just not funny, but it was also really weird. I know damn well that if I saw someone pop up with a "burningmogais" blog or something, I would be pissed. So I don't know what made me think that running burningradqueers was a good idea in any sense.

My rude and dehumanizing comments did not help. Regardless of how I view people, what disorders I have, or how symptoms present themselves, it was disgusting of me to act as though I can't be held accountable for my cruelty towards others.

The targeted posts were even worse, and allowing people to just pick a random blog to "burn" was teetering on harassment. It put the user in front of so many people who clearly did not have good intentions towards them, and inherently put the user being "burnt" in danger. I wish I noticed that fact sooner. Even if I disagreed with people or didn't like them for whatever reason, I still should not have felt as though I had the right to post stuff like that.

Adding onto that, I should have never used my ASPD as an excuse for anything. I tend to get defensive when I feel insulted, which is what happened, and I decided to bite back despite being in the wrong. I acted impulsively and out of pure anger, and then tried to defend it, which I shouldn't have. When saying the kinds of things I did, I am open to criticism whether I like that fact or not, and trying to act as though I am immune to that criticism because of a disorder was disgusting on my part.

Another thing, somewhat on a similar note, is that an apology is owed for my hostility in general. Every time it was even lightly suggested I was wrong, I seemed to lash out and get angry. This really just comes down to me needing to learn to admit my wrongs. I should not have made my inability to understand my wrongdoings anyone else's problem.

Then there's also the things I said when I lashed out before deciding to drop burningradqueers entirely. I don't fully remember all of what I said as the event happened during an episode (this does not excuse my words at all by the way. regardless of my state at the time, what I said wasn't okay and should not be excused) and the posts have since been deleted. But, I do remember at one point making harassment out to be a competition of sorts when someone was simply trying to calmly explain to my why the namedropping was not a good move. I can't for the life of me remember why I did that, but I am very sorry about it. A lot of people in the radqueer community have been harassed (and likely do still get harassed constantly), and for me to act like I am the only victim of harassment was wrong on multiple levels.

I'm sure there was a lot of bad stuff I said during that episode, but as I said, I do not remember most of it. I'm sorry that I can't apologize for the specific things I said, but I am apologizing for the situation as a whole.

The entire thing started over me not being able to handle much deserved criticism, and I stood "my ground" despite having absolutely no ground to stand on.

I started burningradqueers over baseless hatred. I didn't know why I was supposed to hate radqueers, or what I was even really hating. I joined the anti community thinking that it is much easier to just move with the pack and hate what everyone else seems to hate, but hatred really isn't that easy. It's exhausting. And realizing how much the anti community really wouldn't want me if I was honest about things made me realize that. Realizing that there are so many antis who would rather see us suffer forever due to dysphoria than see us live happily after getting amputations was rough, and honestly kinda gave me a taste of what radqueers have to deal with every single day, and it felt horrible.

Without realizing it, I managed to do so much damage to a community full of people who deal with exactly the same things I do, a community that is mostly traumatized and mentally ill people who are just trying to get by. Not even just that, but genuinely just people trying to exist and be honest about themselves.

It is not my place to dictate what is and isn't valid in terms of someone's personal identity, and even more, it's not okay for me to treat a whole community like garbage just because I didn't understand it.

Again, I do not want my actions to be excused. I treated people horribly and was a total dick, but I hope that me apologizing can at least make some of you feel better about how I behaved.

[waitineedaname]

Um. do you think about how mr & mrs kageyama are undoubtedly on the Good-er side of the Parents scale but also are probably viewed differently by ritsu and shigeo. like i think about how ritsu probably had to be the easy one (the one that doesn't need you to care about them and comfort them) since shigeo has probably come home beaten up and bloodied enough times for the both of them?? also i feel like they might've said something like "well shigeo you don't HAVE to do [thing that will make any parent happy/proud] right ritsu :)" at some point. like idkkk i feel like that is definitely part of why ritsu feels so pressured to be twice as good at whatever he does (to make up for whatever mob lacks) but also if anyone said that to me i'd kill myself on the spot because it puts Zero trust in mob's abilities? like i feel it doesn't give him a chance to try because well ritsu will do it anyways why do i need to :/ (but then body improvement club happened. W)

anyways i just thing his parents (unintentionally) put sooo much pressure on ritsu. like the bar for being Good is drastically different for ritsu and shigeo*. and pre-claw ritsu thought that half of this pressure would probably disappear if mob did what he was ""supposed"" to do as the Older Sibling which might be one of the many many reasons ritsu thought he hated him?

*marathon arc is the first instance that comes to mind cuz...idk..before it happens they're like Hm. we should go wait in the middway of the path for shigeo (who waited for ritsu at the finish line?🤨). and after it they're like hehe ritsu got 9th place and shigeo did his best :) (this just sounds. damn. the bar's that low/high?). and both of these are normal! considering how shigeo and ritsu are! but i also feel like they're only normal because that's what you'd expect from shigeo and ritsu respectively which kind of. fucked up my worldview.

okayyy this got long. Sowwy. 😆

the kageyama parents make me NUTS when I think about them too hard bc they're probably the best parents in the series and definitely the most normal, but with being normal comes very normal flaws and parenting fuck ups, like comparing their sons. like comparing kids against each other is a very normal and common thing for parents to do, but it fucking sucks, and it's only made worse with the specific baggage the brother have

they absolutely put so much pressure on ritsu, which is one of the components of him snapping in the cleanup arc. he's like,, the ideal that they compare shigeo too, like they're always like "shigeo, why don't you get better grades, like ritsu. shigeo, why don't you stop doing weird things, like ritsu." I feel like the best example of this is these two pages from the cleanup arc (chapter 23, if you're curious)

literally every day I think about "ritsu is way smarter than I am. he doesn't do anything weird" [panel of ritsu looking so fucking haunted]

I'm going to put the rest of this under a read more because I had a Lot To Say

anyway, this sets up the expectations for the two of them. shigeo is the one who struggles at school, who messes up, whose psychic powers do weird things. ritsu is the star student, the perfect son, the Normal One. neither of these expectations are fair to them at all, especially since shigeo works really fucking hard when he sets his mind to something, and ritsu has to wear the mask of normalcy and perfection even if it doesn't feel right. it puts too much pressure on ritsu and sets mob up with the expectations of failure! goddammit!!

I don't necessarily blame the kageyama parents, I mean like I said, this is a very normal thing for parents to do, especially with kids so close in age. I've been compared to my stepsister, I've seen this happen to friends who are close in age to their siblings. it sucks ass, but it's a very normal flaw for a family to have. but also, even though the series really emphasizes that psychic powers are just a normal thing, I don't think the kageyama parents were equipped to deal with the specific issues their kids have bc of psychic powers. I can't help but wonder how much they know about that part of their sons' lives... the more I think about it, the more I think that ritsu definitely didn't tell them the truth about the first ???% incident, he definitely lied to protect his brother because I feel like they would treat shigeo differently if they knew he almost killed his brother and several teenagers at age ten. and it's unclear how much, if anything, they know about the major arcs of the show. do they know ritsu was kidnapped? do they know shigeo was trapped in a mental hellscape for six months? I'm pretty sure ritsu actively hid the events of the world domination arc from them. we see their mom watching the news report in the confession arc -- did she see her son on the screen?

idk, I just get the impression that the brothers don't really let their parents into that part of their lives, which means they still get treated normally but also means their parents don't really understand them. I think that's part of why reigen was so important to mob's development as a kid, because he gave him a person he could go to about things he couldn't talk about with his parents. it also means ritsu was especially isolated because he didn't have that kind of person, at least not until he and shou became friends

also what you said about ritsu being the "easy one", that fits directly into the way I think about both of the kageyama brothers being autistic. I think mob was much more visibly autistic, probably needed more support, and because ritsu didn't need the same support, everyone assumed ritsu must be allistic. I think he knew he was the "easy one" between the two of them and I think that got wrapped up in him masking a LOT to make things easier on his parents so they could focus on shigeo. this kid is so damn undiagnosed that I don't think he even realizes he might also be autistic until his teenage years at least

something something psychic powers as a metaphor for autism something something ritsu desperately trying to seem normal because he doesn't have powers, but also desperately wanting to get powers and stop having to act normal. this kid is so fucking sick of masking.