#which is like. why would i want to feel that again !! but also not feeling it feels like its own kind of loss

[my-castles-crumbling]

fire - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 1367 (whoops)

There were few things Regulus Black valued more than sleep. Perhaps reading. Or music. Or a nice dark roast coffee. But either way, sleep was of the utmost importance. He was even more prickly than normal without at least eight hours of it, and miserable as well, so he always prioritized getting his rest.

Which is why he was ready to kill everyone in his path when the fire alarm was pulled at 2:47 am on a Tuesday night in his university dorm, and he was forced to evacuate into the parking lot.

Not only was the whole thing infuriating, but to make matters worse, it was also freezing outside. The September air was chilling him to his bones, and he could feel his body screaming for shut-eye. It was his definition of hell.

As he stood shivering, a tall, dark-haired, tan-skinned, hazel-eyed boy walked up to him and offered him his coat with the most obnoxiously beautiful grin he’d ever seen.

Too cold to play stupid games, he just hissed, “Fuck off,” and turned away.

As soon as they were all allowed back inside, Regulus curled under his blanket and fell asleep, keen to put the whole miserable experience behind him.

-

No such luck.

It took one week before the alarm went off again. This time at 1:19am on a Thursday, he found himself trudging down the stairs and into the cold, cursing himself for once again being too sleepy to remember a coat.

So furious that he was about to scream, he didn’t see the same boy walk up to him right away, until he felt a tap on his shoulder. 

“I brought you an extra,” the boy grinned, making Regulus’s frozen knees melt as he offered him the jacket.

“Do you make a habit of giving your clothing to strangers?” he bit out, giving in and grabbing the offending garment, immediately throwing it over his shoulders. He figured if he was going to be harassed, he might as well be warm while it happened.

“Only the pretty ones,” the boy said with a wink, walking off and leaving Regulus both pissed off and flustered.

-

The third time happened only three days after the second, and Regulus bit back a scream when the alarm roused him from his slumber. At this point, it felt like a pattern, and he was at least smart enough to grab the oversized, frayed, horrifyingly maroon, disgustingly warm jacket he’d thrown over his desk chair three days ago.

He was only outside for a few minutes before the boy walked up to him again, looking completely comfortable in the frigid night.

“So, do I get to know your name?” he asked, sending Regulus the same stunning smile.

Frowning, at both his current whereabouts and the way his stomach flip-flopped, Regulus scoffed. “I don’t know yours.”

“James,” he answered easily, kicking at a random rock on the pavement. “Now, I’ve given you two things. It makes sense that you should give me one, yeah? Only fair.” And he batted his long eyelashes, making Regulus nearly choke on his spit.

He pretended to ponder for a moment, getting ahold of himself, before rolling his eyes. “No,” he said shortly. And he walked off.

-

“What about your major, then?”

Ten days. It took ten days before the alarm was pulled again, and the school had started sending out cryptic notices threatening consequences for the party responsible. But still, Regulus was here, in the parking lot in the middle of the night, sending a death glare at James.

“Why does it matter?” he asked with a huff.

“Because people tend to care about their majors,” the taller boy shrugged. “And I want to know what you care about. Mine’s education, by the way.”

Education. It fit, strangely. James’s sunshiny disposition warmed the surrounding air even during the cold night, and his smile seemed like the type of thing that would put kids at-ease.

Regulus sighed, giving in. “English. With a minor in creative writing,” he mumbled, looking down.

“Hmm. That suits you,” James replied vaguely, smiling. What the hell was that supposed to mean? “And your name?”

He thought about it for a moment, but at this point, it almost felt like he would be giving in to some sort of weird, unspoken battle if he shared his name. And he had to admit, talking with James passed the time during these stupid evacuations. “No,” he answered, sending the boy a smirk, heart skipping a beat at his own nerve, and turning to find someone else to speak with.

-

It became a game. Every time the alarm was pulled, James found him. He asked him questions, and Regulus answered every one, shocked at the way James listened. It was actually nice to talk to someone who seemed genuinely interested. He hadn’t made a lot of friends on campus, yet, and James felt…safe. But every time James asked his name, he refused, grinning as much as James did, before sauntering away.

-

One cold night in November, though, he couldn’t sleep. Stress about classes had his mind going wild, and anxious energy flooded his body. So, he decided to take a walk through the dorm, to clear his head. He drifted through the floors and halls, no destination in mind, when he happened across one of the more-quiet areas of the building. This area happened to have a fire alarm in a dark corner of the hall, almost hidden in shadows. It was as he turned a corner to this spot that Regulus saw a hooded figure slowly approach the alarm, arm outstretched, intentions clear. 

Eyes wide, Regulus watched as the figure pulled the latch and began to run, turning and smacking right into Regulus.

“Ouch!” He cried out, nearly falling over.

“Fuck!” The person yelled, losing their balance as well.

And then the hood fell. And Regulus would have recognized those hazel eyes and that beautiful hair anywhere.

“James!?!”

The other boy looked terrified, mouth open, his body frozen in place. He uttered a few syllables as if he was trying to form words, but no sound came out. Scoffing, Regulus grabbed his hand and led him down some nearby stairs and out the emergency exit, alarm still blaring overhead.

When they got into the quiet, freezing air, he turned to the taller boy. “It was you?” he hissed, resisting the urge to slap him across the shoulder. The amount of sleep he’d lost in the past two months was abhorrent. “Why?”

James grimaced. “Well…the first two times, it wasn’t! But, y’know, the first time you didn’t have a coat…”

“I remember,” Regulus frowned, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah. And…I couldn’t stop thinking about you. So the second time, I just…grabbed my old one. And when you took it and you looked so…” James gestured to Regulus, eyes wide, cheeks pink. Regulus blinked, trying to understand. Was James saying he looked good in his jacket? “…I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I just…”

Regulus gaped. “You’ve been pulling the fire alarm to see me?”

“It was only supposed to be a one-time thing! Just to get your name!” James defended himself, looking almost scared. “I didn’t know how to find you, and I just….you have to understand, you’re fucking stunning, you know?”

Blushing furiously, Regulus sputtered, “That’s…well, that’s not…”

“But then you wouldn’t tell me your name! So I had to keep pulling it, you know?” James explained, a desperate look on his face. Like it obviously made sense why he’d been breaking the law for two months. “...Just until I found out.”

He blinked several times before biting his lip. Nobody had ever gone to such lengths to get to know him before. It was stupid, and risky, and idiotic, and so damn romantic.

“My name is Regulus,” he sighed, wondering if he’d regret this. “I live in room 743. And if you ever pull that damn alarm again, and wake me up, I will never speak to you again. Understood?”

James grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. Your name is as beautiful as you are, by the way.”

Regulus could only sigh. What had he gotten himself into?

I also posted this here if you want to go give it some love!

[neonaurore]

it's not my job to change your mind when you're wrong. I don't need to spoonfeed my existence to you

yeah idgaf you're still an asshole

no we don't lol

my issue is it doesn't matter if you're nice or angry. you're being a dick regardless. being angry would just be more upfront but no amount of politeness will change that you're acting like a jerk by trying to tell an intersex person explaining being intersex that they sound like notorious TERF jk rowling??? I don't think you're talking down to me. you're just a jerk. you started this conversation out the gate swinging like an asshat, but you thought using polite wording would change that you said something rude as hell. you are passive aggressive whether you realize it or not. but the passive aggression isn't the issue. the issue is that you're wrong, but you think you're not wrong because you're using "correct" tone and the scary intersex people aren't being nice enough. even though while how you say an argument can convey it better, it does not change the content of that argument or if it is true or not

read up on this

I brought up the fact that changing those terms out makes it seems so much more wrong, (even though they aren't equatable whatsoever) to show that putting ANYTHING in those blanks is agressive, including the term already there.

yes but the equivalency is wrong. the swap out is equating intersex with gender identity which it isn't. watch this

"Also the idea that you can make yourself a person of color is untrue. You can tan your body or have plastic surgery but that does not make you POC"

watch when I switch up what the topic is about, suddenly wow, the topic is about an entirely different thing?? like yeah. it would be wrong to say you can't become a woman, because you can. but you can't become intersex. that's a fact. and it's not "aggressive" to say a literally correct statement

Intersex should be a defended term. It's a small amount of people and the less of them that speak up the less chance they have at reducing the genuine war-crimes constantly commited against them.

wow thanks for explaining my own oppression to me, o noble perisex savior.

The more people that incorrectly claim the term, the less grounds the term has as a whole.

ok so what the fuck IS your stance. because you're the one who was mad at OP for saying you can't transition to intersex?? and now you're like "oh we gotta defend the term" that is exactly what OP was doing

Theres no other way to shift a perspective then a clean, precise, chisel. Try it on me if you STILL don't feel like i agree with you.

I don't care if you agree with me or not you're still a fucking asshole to intersex people talking about intersexism. you're no better than cis people who police trans people, than men who try to filter feminists, than white people who get upset about how POC discuss racism

you are a tar pit. if you want to fix that, then learn that people do not need to spoon feed themselves specifically to you to make themselves more palatable because that does not work for fighting for rights

and read that tone policing article for the love of fucking god. I'm not gonna respond to this conversation again until you know why tone policing is bad

In case anyone needs a reminder…

Being transgender does not make you intersex.

Going through HRT does not make you intersex. Surgery cannot make you intersex.

Intersex people are born with atypical variations of physical, biological sex characteristics. That is what makes someone intersex.

Perisex trans people (especially on Reddit) have been recently insisting that just being transgender makes you intersex, and therefore able to speak over intersex people on issues that specifically affect us, especially when it comes to dangerous and offensive terminology. This is not true.

Also the idea that you can somehow “make yourself intersex” is untrue. You can make your body more androgynous through things like hormone treatment and surgery, but that does not make you intersex.

Falsely claiming intersex identity based on these things isn’t *always* malicious (though it is often done to speak over us) but it is always harmful.

[championari]

So I’m constantly thinking about Charles and how he could eventually meet Edwin with his feelings.

Here’s something I realized: Charles, despite constantly talking about things he miss, things he wants, he actually has a complicated relationship with desire as a concept.

How I would put it is by taking Supernatural as an example. There’s an episode in Season 5 where the boys meet Famine, a horseman of the apocalypse. However, Dean is not at all affected by him. It’s because due to being the older brother, and a Hunter, Dean was never allowed to consider acting on or even having desire for anything.

You can see where I’m going with this. Charles, like Dean, doesn’t actually believe he should want anything, due to “not being good enough”.

This is something actually touched on subtly in the show through the acting. When Niko says, “I know what it’s like to want something you can’t have.” Edwin directly looks at The Cat King’s bracelet, while Charles stares off into space. When Tragic Mick describes Angie’s light as enforcing a sense of yearning, Edwin looks at Charles, while again, Charles looks off blankly (can’t access screenshots right now). Edwin knows what he wants but is scared of it, while Charles doesn’t know what he wants because he can’t allow himself to consider it. This gives an entirely new meaning to Charles’ hatred of the Cat King. A supernatural entity who describes his kingdom as being about “want and pleasure”. Thomas is the encapsulation of everything Charles was never allowed to have. Charles chases after things that he knows he can’t have, romancing a living girl despite knowing she will eventually leave. Charles can’t consider returning Edwin’s feelings because that would mean he’s been running away from what’s been in front of him the whole time. That what he wanted was always there, at his lowest point, when he thought he deserved it least.

Returning Edwin’s feelings means he was already enough. And Charles can’t imagine that yet.

While I would obviously adore an interaction between Charles and Desire of The Endless, ultimately I don’t think it would do anything. Like Dean, Charles might be completely unaffected by them because he’s spent most of his existence building walls around his desires. Edwin was completely blindsided by Thomas because he never even considered having to think about Desire due to having no attraction to women and that being the dominant narrative of his time. Charles pursues Crystal because he still wants to feel like he has a chance at “normal life” (which as I said is self-punishment by throwing himself at something he knows he can’t have). To accept that he’s in love with Edwin would mean no longer pursuing a living person. Edwin would be it for him, which he kind of already gets but it hasn’t fully sunk in yet. Just like his death

There's also this exchange that drives me nuts:

"You gave up tranquil eternity…for your friend?" "Does that sound like someone who belongs in Hell?"

THIS. MAKES. ME. INSANE. Because Charles, like he always does when confronted with his own wants, completely avoids it. He doesn't respond to The Night Nurse's obvious confusion as to why he ran from Death, and instead turns the conversation back to Edwin. He makes it all about what Edwin deserves, not what Charles saw in Edwin that led him to make that choice. You could say this is practical as time is of the essence, but I think that's the point. Charles throws away the chance to explain his viewpoint on their first meeting, the consequences of his choice to run from Death with a boy he just met and knew for a few hours, and instead remains single-minded on Edwin's safety. Like when Edwin reasonably questioned, "Why are you getting angry?" when he began freaking out over Thomas getting close to Edwin, he says nothing.

There's just so much happening in that head that I can't stop thinking about.

[quarterlifekitty]

The Gaz secret baby post was sooo delicious. He totally would go "oh fuck yeah a baby it’s baby time". You've infected my brain with this trope and the doctors are saying it's incurable 🤒 I keep thinking of Nikolai in this trope!

He's not made his attraction to you any secret – you dismiss any reciprocated feelings because it's just not realistic with both of your jobs. The task force finishes a gruelling but successful op with him, and everybody decides to let loose for a night. After a few many rounds of drinks… you inevitably fall into his bed.

Cut to 5 weeks later, you're staring at a positive test and wondering how long you can keep this a secret. You resolve to never let Nik know he's the dad. Someone who loves his job, disappearing for months… you decide it's best for your child to have at least one present parent and maybe you're scared of the rejection.

I’m so ashamed I haven’t done this trope for Nikolai!!! I love the idea of you trying actively to hide it— it’s not just a one night stand thing, you really know each other and you’re still trying to get away with it.

At first, when he sees the baby— he just assumes it can’t be his, because you would’ve told him, wouldn’t you? Surely you wouldn’t think he didn’t want anything to do with a perfect, chubby baby made from both you and him. So when he’s questioning, it’s about the timelines. He knows there wasn’t anything labeled between you— it was one night, he wasn’t your boyfriend, but the beast inside him still bares its teeth at the idea that you fucked someone right after he fucked you.

Price, for all that Nik is his best mate, promised to be your confidant as your captain, and he wouldn’t betray that. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t a messy bitch who will start making a whole load of implications. Some of them are pretty crude, too, because he’s trying to goad Nik into confronting you. Saying things like “You should dick ‘er down again soon, last time it settled her down like you wouldn’t believe.”

It makes Nik more and more sure that there wasn’t anyone else. You were never really the type. Which means the baby must be his, and for some reason, you don’t want him to know.

That makes his blood hot. The idea that you don’t want him to father his own baby. You’ve always been a bit bristly to him, and he’s never known exactly why— he was hoping to find out the morning after you fell into bed together, but you ran out first thing, and he was contracted in a job soon after.

So he hangs over you more than before, watching from a distance, the gears turning as he considers what the fuck to say to get you to fess up. He wants to hear you say it. He doesn’t want to just ask and have you confirm or deny.

It hurts that you don’t want to tell him. That you don’t feel it’s safe for him to know. That you’re trying to protect yourself and the cub from him knowing. And despite the support from your own squad— it can’t have been easy for you.

But he also doesn’t want to miss out on another second of fatherhood. There’s an impatient roiling in his gut about it. Seeing your fat little baby, his fat little baby, and not being able to wordlessly lift it from your arms and hold it close to his chest and kiss its head.

So he’s conflicted, to say the least.

[holdmytesseract]

One Night or Forever?

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When one thing leads to another, you and Daryl spend a passionate night together at the CDC. Unfortunately, neither of you is interpreting the signals right afterwards...

Warnings: 18+! MDNI! smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there - like, you know exactly what's going on), uhhh sub and dom Daryl? unprotected rough-ish sex? Daryl gets a bj (yes, you read that right), he's a bit mean, too - but also a cutie patootie, uhh slight angst? bit of drama, alcohol - drunk-ish Daryl and tipsy reader, fluff, swear words, bickering

Set in Season 1!

Word Count: 4,5k

a/n: You want it, you got it, friends. I don't know what this is, though - or which demons possessed me as I wrote it. I really don't. I also don't know how I should feel about it. Embarrassed? Proud? Send help, lol.

Anyways, I hope you like this! Please go easy on me. Smut isn't really my forte...

EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Booyah!"

Daryl's toast had been the starting shot for an evening full of conversation, fun, laughter - and alcohol. Some would say reams of alcohol. Wine, booze, beer - you and the group stopped at nothing. That was probably the reason why everyone staggered somewhere on a scale between tipsy and shit faced drunk at the end of the evening.

You were currently on your way to your personal room - something you'd describe as a luxury. Sure, back at the quarry you had your own tent, but there was a huge difference between that and a whole goddamn room. With a own freaking shower! It was crazy. Who would've thought that something so plain and simple would become such a valued, precious thing? Most likely nobody, because it was something taken for granted.

Well... Not anymore. Not since the world went to shit.

After passing a very drunk Glenn on the way, you more or less stumbled into your room. Tipsy... You were definitely tipsy. Without a single care in the world, you started to shed your clothes the moment the door shut close behind you. All you wanted to do was sleep. You had too much alcohol coursing through your veins to search for something you could use as a pyjama. You hadn't a problem with sleeping naked. Not tonight.

Unfortunately had your plan a catch... One that you weren't aware of yet.

This wasn't your room.

You were just about to free your body of the last piece of fabric you were wearing - a pair of admittedly beautiful dark blue lace panties, when a sudden voice managed to almost send you into cardiac arrest.

"Wha' the fuck 'r ya doin' in my room?!"

You startled so bad, that you almost lost balance and fell flat on your ass. Your balance was a bit off-track anyways, due to the wine...

With wide eyes you turned around to face the intruder.

"Daryl?"

You blinked. "What are you doing here?" He scoffed; his cheeks puffed out and reddened. He had been drinking way more than you did, and it showed. The archer's hands were fumbling clumsily with the fly of his jeans. "Jus' been taken a damn piss, 'n 'm comin' back to find ya standin' in my room." You crossed your arms over your bare - an information which hadn't reached Daryl's brain yet - chest. "This is clearly my room, Dixon." He scoffed again. "'S not!" "Yes, it is!" "'S not!" The man took a few wobbly steps closer. "Go bullshit someone else, I-" He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence; eyes widening to the size of plates. Now the information had been received and processed.

"Yer almost naked," he stated; bluntly staring.

Oh, you suddenly realised and remembered as well. He was right.

In any other situation, you'd have frantically tried to cover yourself up and perhaps even threw an insult at the man standing across from you, but the alcohol lowered your boundary of shame and loosened you up; making you see things more relaxed.

You huffed out a breath. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Daryl still blinked and tried very hard to not let his eyes drop, but that was an almost impossible task for the alcoholized man. "Why?" You shrugged your shoulders. "'Cause I wanted to go to sleep." The archer swallowed hard. "In my room? Naked? Ya lost yer damn mind, woman?" "It's my room," your tipsy self was still profoundly convinced, while you made your way over to the bed on slightly wobbly legs. Daryl just watched you; flabbergasted, speechless, shocked - and incredibly turned on. After all, he had a damn pretty woman in his room - no, bed. Half naked!

"You could join me, Dixon." He scoffed again and tried to walk in a straight line over to the armchair; accepting his fate. "In yer damn dreams. 'S ain't gonna help me - or my hard-on." You giggled at his words like a schoolgirl and rolled around in the sheets. "That the reason why you can't get that zipper up? You like me, Daryl? Like what you see?" You pestered him with questions; smirking, and watched his cheeks redden even more - if that was physically possible and your eyes didn't betray you. "Shuddup," Daryl just growled in response. You giggled again, before a long beat of silence passed between the both of you.

The alcohol didn't just lower your boundary of shame... It also caused you to become bolder. "I could help you with that, you know..." You tried to sound as flirty and seductive as possible and turned in the sheets once more, but now to face the man sitting across from the bed. You perched yourself onto your stomach and crossed your ankles in the air; swaying your legs.

Gods, you felt like a teenager again. Damn the alcohol and your crush on the archer. It was a dangerous combination, since you hadn't planned to actually act on said crush. Well, and here you were now in his - nu.uh, your - bed, almost naked and trying to seduce him.

Some might say this escalated quickly...

"Help me with wha'?" The archer finally responded after a long moment; dumbfounded. His usually very smart and witty brain slowed down by the alcohol. You thought for a hot minute that he had already fallen asleep on you. You rolled your eyes and groaned - acting like Daryl just said the stupidest thing in the world. "Your boner," you deadpanned - as if it was the most normal thing to say.

The archer swallowed hard; feeling his chest (and pants) tightening.

"Wha'?" He crooked out. The normally so talkative, glibly redneck seemingly rendered speechless by your boldness.

Once again, you rolled your eyes. "Do you reaaaaally want me to spell it out for you, D?" Daryl clearly needed a moment to recover, but once he did, he scoffed.

"Pf, yer bluffin'."

"I'm not."

"Yeah, ya 'r."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, ya 'r. Can tell. Yer way to innocent fer shit like tha', sunshine."

"Are you challenging me, Dixon?"

"Nah, jus' statin' facts."

Now you were the one who scoffed. He really asked for it, didn't he? You smirked and hid your face in the blanket beneath you. Oh, you were so going to prove him wrong.

You rolled your barely covered body around a third time, but this time to get up from the bed - which was a much more difficult task than expected, but you made it in the end - even though not gracefully and certainly not seductively. "Facts, huh?" You asked the crossbow-wielding archer then with a raised eyebrow and your hands on your hips. He crossed his arms over his plaid beige-brown shirt clad chest; bare forearms and biceps bulging with the movement. "Yes, facts." Although he stared into your eyes with his blue coloured irises, he still had a hard time for them to actually stay on your face.

"Well, you can go screw your opinions - or me. Your choice, pretty boy," you stated and shrugged your shoulders as you bridged the short distance between the bed and the armchair. Before the younger Dixon could even do as much as open his mouth for a snarky respond, you had dropped to your knees in front of him - between his manspread legs.

Daryl's eyes widened and his jaw slacked. "Wha' 'r ya doin'?!" He literally screeched and gripped the armrests of the armchair. "Proofing you wrong, pretty boy." You smiled up at him like a Cheshire cat; hands and fingers clumsily trying to open his jeans. "F-Fuckin' hell, wha'?! Yer insane, woman!" The archer cursed above you, but also didn't make any moves to stop you. So, you took that as a sign to continue. And continuing you did...

It took you a hot minute to get your eye-hand coordination straight and overcome the obstacles which were his jeans and boxers, but once you did, there was no holding back. "Ya really gonna do th- F-Fuck..."

You did.

"Told you, Dixon," you stated with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes; hands firmly cupping him. Daryl answered nothing. The archer had a hard time to control his breathing and rapidly beating heart. He was still gripping the armrests like a vice - his knuckles already turning white. He really couldn't believe this was happening right now. Was he asleep and dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Did the wine manage to fog up his brain so much that his eyes were deceiving him? But when he felt your lips wrap around him, he instantly threw all those thoughts overboard again. This was real. It had to be real. After all, he was feeling it, right?

"F-Fuckin' hell," he cursed again; feeling waves of pleasure crash over him. One of his hands loosened its grip on the armrest and went in your hair instead - tying your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. You were already too far gone to care; the taste of him addictive.

Working your magic, you tried to grant the man above you as much pleasure as possible - and it seemed to work. Within a few minutes, Daryl was a whimpering mess - a side you'd never thought you were ever going to see of him. Not in your wildest dreams.

"Ain't... Ain't g-gonna last," the archer panted breathlessly; the hand in your hair twitching. You didn't want him to. You wanted him to fall apart. A gentle squeeze of your hand was all it took. "Y-Y/N, damnit, 'm gon'- Gonna cu-" His sentence got interrupted by a low moan that paved its way to the forefront of his lips. The hand in your hair twitched again as he attempted to pull you off him. You didn't let him, though, and easily dodged his lousy attempt. Instead, you helped him ride the wave. His thighs twitched; muscles tensing as his high crashed into him. Daryl felt like he had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler - but in the best way possible. It had been so long...

The gentle grip he had of your hair slackened; hand falling limply to his side. You lifted your head to look at him to witness his blissed-out state. Daryl's eyes were closed, and his breathing laboured. You smiled; hands gently caressing his clothed thighs. "You believe me now, D?" He gave you a mere nod. Clearly he needed another few moments to get his head straight again. Your smile never ceased as you kept up your fingers movements. Your knees protested by now, but you didn't care.

Another few moments passed, before the archer peeled his eyes open again. Seeing you still on your knees for him managed to send another shockwave of arousal throughout his entire body.

Wide-blown eyes stared at you intensely; the gears turning in his fogged up head.

"T-Thanks, I guess," he whispered then. His voice was still hoarse. You smiled up at him. "You're welcome, pretty boy. Said I'm gonna help you." Daryl nodded almost shyly and clumsily stuffed himself back inside his boxers. You eyed him thoroughly and started to giggle. "Didn't think you'd loose it so fast. Wouldn't have pecked you to be a... premature guy." Not that it mattered to you, but you couldn't help yourself but to tease him a bit. It was meant to be a playful comment, but you seemed to hit a sore spot...

You could practically see how his eyes darkened, before he narrowed them. "Whatcha say, huh?" He asked in a gruff voice and stood up; towering over you. You blinked - were a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "I-I, uh... Said I didn't think you'd be one t-to, uh, come too early..." The archer growled under his breath. "Ya better watch yer mouth, sunshine," he said in a threatening tone and grabbed your arms to pull you up on your feet. Daryl quickly noticed, though, that his legs were even more wobbly now that they've already been before; forcing him to take cautious steps. "What are we doing, pretty boy? You gonna make me pay for saying that?" You gave another sassy remark; provoking him and tickling his nerve ends even further. A grunt passed his chapped lips as he dragged you with him. Once close to the bed, he wrapped his arms firmly around your bare midsection and literally threw you onto the bed - wobbly legs be damned. You giggled at his eagerness and slid upwards to rest your head on one of the pillows; giving the man a confident look. "C'mon then, pretty boy, show me what you got. I know you want to." He scoffed and crawled on the bed. "Pretty boy my ass." You just giggled again. You felt intoxicated by the wine you had consumed and definitely aroused - which got only worse when you felt calloused, deft hands gripping your delicate skin. Daryl parted your legs and settled on his knees between them. His eyes were directed on your face. He looked like a predator - ready to attack his prey. It was incredibly hot.

"'M gonna shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers, just ya wait," he growled in a deep voice, and wrapped his arms and hands around your thighs like a snake - holding them firmly and simultaneously keeping you splayed open for him, before he literally yanked you down; bringing your hips closer to his.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden movement and the upcoming anticipation.

His fingertips danced over the skin on your hips then - and suddenly got your dark blue lace panties ripped into shreds.

"Daryl!" You shrieked, then gasped. "Those were my favourites, I-" "'S jus' a damn piece 'a fabric. Dun be such a crybaby," he interrupted you; instantly putting you in your place. Your mouth clapped shut. This was yet another new side of him. Sure, you knew he was hotheaded, but he literally just went from kinda submissive to dominant within the blink of an eye. Was it the alcohol? Or truly his temper?

The clinking of his belt ripped you out of your thoughts. Some shuffling and the rustling of fabric was the only premonition you got, before you felt him against your hot and pulsating center. Your hips instantly bucked; trying to get closer.

More friction.

More pleasure.

More of Daryl.

The archer hovering above you scoffed. "Look how needy ya are. Dun even hafta prepare ya." You could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. "Tis all jus' from gettin' me off, huh?" You nodded and bit your lip. Daryl on the contrary shook his head, "Yer tha' desperate? Pf... Pathetic." and lined himself up, before hitting home.

Stars exploded in front of your eyes as his hips met yours. The most sinful moan the archer had ever heard in his life slipped past your lips; only spurring him on more. He picked up a firm, steady pace - leaving you a mess beneath him barely within a few minutes. Just what you did to him.

Revenge was sweet, wasn't it?

His precise, powerful thrusts carried you from one high to the next - and Daryl enjoyed it. He loved to see you fall apart beneath him. And this time, he was the one lasting longer. "Who's commin' too soon now, huh? 'S not me, sunshine. Told ya I'd shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers," he growled lowly; slowing his pace to just give you a few moments of recovery. You moaned at the sheer endless pleasure he granted you. Your hands gripped his thick arms like a vice after he had planted both palms firmly in the mattress beside your head to gain more leverage. "F-Fuck, Daryl," you whimpered; fingernails digging into his sweaty biceps. "I know. Jus' one more, 'kay? Can ya give me one more?" You nodded wordlessly. "Good girl," the archer praised and picked up his speed once again; pulling another sweet moan alongside some incoherent noises from you.

Your hands travelled. They left his arms to rest on his chest, where they fisted the fabric of his plaid shirt with the ripped off sleeves. The fabric held a darkened stain - a puddle of sweat formed on his chest.

Your hands continued to fist his shirt, as you pulled - an attempt to undo a few buttons. But once the archer noticed what your mission was, he stopped dead in his movements. "Nah, dun do tha'," he scolded you instantly and peeled your hands away from the fabric covering his upper body. "W-Why?" You asked breathlessly; not understanding his sudden mood shift. "'"Cause I told ya to!" He snapped.

Just in that moment, you realised that you must've hit another sore spot... But this time one that actually seemed to get to him. Not one that managed to turn him on.

"S-Sorry, D-Daryl, I-" You immediately apologised, but got interrupted once more. "Keep holdin' on ta my arms, if yer need sum'thin' to hold on to." His voice was gruff, but way more soft than a few moments ago. The archer redirected your hands and placed them once more around his sweaty biceps. Without another word, he continued where he left off, causing your grip to instantly tighten. "There ya go," he praised you again and readjusted your legs with his thighs. Just the slight change of angle was enough to send you a third time over the edge. This time, though, you dragged him right with you.

A broken sound - close to a cry, left the man's lips as he pulled out and coated the supple skin of your stomach with his release. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his neck as he threw his head back in ecstasy. It was a sight to behold. A sight you might never forget for the rest of your life - no matter how long your life was going to be.

A few moments later collapsed Daryl on the mattress beside you. He was clearly spent. Perhaps this had been something you both needed. Who knew?

"Imma take a shower," the archer announced after a while and left the bed - but not before gentleman-like wiping the mess he made on your stomach away with his hand. Without another word, he left, while you just laid there - still naked and staring at the ceiling; recalling in your mind what just happened. The sex managed to sober you up a bit. Did that really just happen? Had you been dreaming this?

You heard the water run, but not how Daryl returned to the room and settled down for the night in the armchair. You had ventured off to dreamland at some point.

To say the next morning was awkward was an absolute understatement. Awkward was not even remotely enough to describe the vibe between the both of you.

When you woke up again, the archer was nowhere to be seen. Now sober, you left the bed, picked up your clothes, noticed that you truly were - in fact in his room, and tiptoed butt naked down the hallway into your room. Luckily nobody had seen you. That would've been scandalous, right?

Your luck was also that everybody was quite hungover from last night. Some more, some less. Therefore noticed nobody the way you and Daryl acted around each other.

You could barely manage to look into his eyes.

You felt ashamed; thinking that you pushed him too far yesterday night. Thinking, that you were too bold and unable to control your damn feelings. Thinking that you pushed him away, instead of drawing him in. You anticipated that the archer must hate you now - and you couldn't even blame him...

Nevertheless seemed a conversation inevitable. You didn't want to destroy the friendship - if you could even call it that - the both of you had before last night.

It took you days to bite the bullet and ask him to talk, though. Sure, you had been on the road again since the CDC was a dead end, but that wasn't an excuse in your eyes.

"D-Daryl?" You approached him cautiously as you found him alone in the stables of the Greene farm; saddling a horse to go looking for Sophia. "Whatcha want?" He asked you and gave you a short look. You swallowed nervously. "Can we, uh, can we talk?" "'Bout wha'?" You watched him work for a moment, while your fingers fumbled with the hem of your t-shirt; trying to gather all the courage you could find. "That, uh, night at the CDC..." Your words came out as a whisper, but Daryl heard them nonetheless - and froze in all his tracks.

"Why'd ya wanna talk 'bout tha'?" He asked nonchalantly after a beat of silence and continued his work; had seemingly shaken off the small 'shock' quite quick. "I-I..." You started and sighed. "Things f-feel so weird between us since that n-night, and... I don't want that. I-I'm sorry for what I did. I'm s-sorry for making you sleep with me." Your eyes were stuck on him. You watched him and tried to gauge his reaction - afraid of what was going to happen.

"Yer sorry 'bout it?" Daryl asked then - almost in disbelief. Then he scoffed. "Do ya regret it?"

That was a question you didn't see coming. A question you haven't thought about yet. Did you regret it? Your memories took you back in time; letting you relive that night you shared with him. The answer was clear - as you quickly discovered.

"No, I don't, but... It was wrong. I shouldn't have-" "Wrong?" He interrupted you. His voice appalled. "Tha's what ya think 'bout this? 'Bout... us?" Daryl accused you with a grimace on his face. Was that... sadness you could detect in his blue orbs? Hurt?

You blinked; "U-Us?" were definitely confused by his words. "W-What do you mean 'us'?" "Ya know wha' I mean, Y/N." You shook your head. "No, Daryl. No, I don't. We've been practically ignoring each other since the CDC. We can't even talk properly! Neither of us can look into the other's eyes! Everything is just... weird, and you talk about an 'us'? No, I don't get it. Tell me. Explain it."

A frustrated huff left the archer's lips, before he started to gnaw at the pad of his thumb; averting your eyes. All of a sudden, the usually so confident redneck became all shy and insecure. "Dunno how," he started; merely shrugging his shoulders. "'S difficult, 'n I ain't good with words." "Try it, D," you encouraged him and gave him a soft smile. "Please. I want to make things right between us again." The archer nodded and took another moment - most likely to gather his thoughts. "'S tha' feeling, ya know? Can't pin it down. Always feelin' so strange whenever yer close to me."

Your heart skipped more than just one beat as his words urged to your ears. Could it be...? No...

"W-What do you feel? Can you... describe it?" Daryl lowered his gaze to the ground. The little stone laying beside his left foot suddenly became really interesting. "Jus' strange. Gets harder to breathe, 'n... My stomach's all messed up. Feels like an itch I can't scratch." You couldn't believe this was happening. Did that night cause Daryl to fall in love with you? "You're doing good, D. Keep going. What else?" You had to know.

He grunted; his foot playing with that little stone, before kicking it aimlessly over the concrete ground. "I... always go back to tha' night in my head. Can't forget it. Yer look. Yer touch. The way ya felt, I-" He stopped himself to take a deep breath. And you smiled. Perhaps having slept with him hadn't been a mistake. Perhaps you interpreted his behaviour wrong. Perhaps you just misread the signs...

"I jus' dunno how to act 'round ya. I dunno wha's happening to me. Tha's why I ain't talkin' to ya. Didn't mean to ignore ya..." Daryl apologised with his head still lowered.

You stepped closer to him and cautiously reached for his hand. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "Daryl, I... I think I know what happened to you," you whispered. "'N wha's tha'?" He asked; finally brave enough to lift his head to look into your eyes. You smiled and squeezed his hand. "I think you... are in love."

As quick as the man had lowered his guard, as quick was it up again.

He pulled his hand out of your grasp and scoffed, before he took a few steps back. "Pf. Love? Me? Tha's ridiculous, woman - 'n we both know it!" "Is it, yeah? You really think so?" "Yes!" He yelled, and wanted to rush past you - but you stopped him with your palm splayed on his chest. You didn't know if what your heart made you do was a wise decision, but it acted on its own will. Your head was powerless anyway.

Daryl's eyes travelled from yours to the hand on his chest and back. "Whatcha doin', woman?! Leave me the hell alo-" You had heard enough. You had held yourself back long enough. This was the only option you had left. It was do or die.

You cut the man off with standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips to his. It was a chaste, gentle kiss - but nonetheless meaningful. It felt so right. So good. His lips so soft and warm - compared to his seemingly rough exterior. His blond-brown goatee tickled your skin in the best way possible.

Once more, Daryl froze to the ground; not moving a muscle.

When your lips left his again with a soft pop and you reopened your eyes, you could see how his eyelids fluttered slowly open as well. You could feel his heart galloping underneath your palm. "What do you feel now, Daryl?" You asked in a hushed tone. Your eyes never left his. The archer swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I-I-I..." He stammered out; his cheeks heating up. "G-Good," he croaked out. "R-Real good." You smiled - happy that your heart had made the right decision. "Wanna do it again?" He blinked. The tips of his ears got red as well. "I-If yer willin' t-to k-kiss me again?" Your smile even widened, before you reached up to cup his beardy, red cheeks in your palms to pull him into another kiss. Daryl gasped against your lips; eyes falling shut and lips following your lead. It caused the kiss to get more intimate. More demanding. More passionate.

His hands acted on their own will, as they settled on your waist and pulled you closer. Your body crashed against his. You could tell that he hadn't kissed a lot in his life; his movements clumsy and messy - but perfectly Daryl. And you loved it. You didn't care how experienced or skilled he was. All you cared about was him - and all the love he deserved you wanted to give him.

He was far from perfect; had his flaws - but so were you.

"What do you say now about love, pretty boy?" You asked in a playful, yet loving manner; your hands crossed behind his neck. Daryl's hands gently squeezed your sides, "Shuddup." before he dipped his head to indulge you into yet another kiss.

Yeah... He was definitely whipped.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @dixonsdarkelf @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep

[writing-flower]

“ Between life and death, death is tempting ”

First act: “From the roots”

Prologue: “Happy fifteenth birthday! (Again?)”

WARNING: Mention of blood and death.

My memory had never been the best, it was good, but not exceptional. Nothing out of this world.

I wasn't as smart as Damian or Tim, I wasn't as strong as Jason or Dick, nor was I as sharp as Bruce Wayne.

I wasn't exceptional, but I was good, but not good enough for them. For him.

God, I was so focused on getting his attention, playing sports, try to pass every subject with the highest grade, join any club like debate or math.

Anything, but all that never leads to anything.

Well, almost nothing, everything I did only caused Damian to see me as a desperate for attention, which, he wasn't wrong.

But still, it didn't make it hurt any less, every insult, malicious insinuation even the occasional threat flying through the air, each one was the result of three years of trying to get someone to look at me.

Sometimes that attention only appeared with Dick, on the few times that he came to visit and came across a scene of me with Damian, He immediately stopped him.

Forcing him to apologize, spoiler, he never apologized.

The first time it happened I thought that my attempts had finally yielded good results, but no, I dare say this was worse.

As if he gave me hope and then suddenly he snatches it away without any fanfare.

Oh wait, that's literally what happened.

And about the others, I didn't even have the chance to talk to them, simply because I was already tired and also because if Damian continued he would have more reasons to screw me.

And let's face it, nobody wants to feed the wolf because you know it bites.

In this case, the bird.

It didn't help that almost the entire family was going on patrol, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in being part of that, but then I remember Jason...I immediately got that idea out of my mind.

Mm, but if I stop to think, or rather, remember, another thing that I learned in my attempts to get my family's attention, I fell in love with dance.

It was the only class that I didn't drop like the others, I genuinely loved it.

Once in her class, the teacher made us all dance with large, long, and thin fabrics. She made us dance what we wanted, in her words: “Dance as if you were free”.

My companions danced with joy, I just stayed silent for a few moments watching them without knowing how to start.

But then I sighed to close my eyes, letting my body move as it wanted.

“Dance as if you were free” I thought, I started to imagine the music in my head. It was nice, I love it.

I went from knowing what the hell to do to starting to laugh with my classmates, I turned around and then curtsied, feeling how almost all the fabric covered my body.

I open my eyes and see my entire audience applauding, not just me, but also the rest of the dancers.

As soon as I turned eighteen I followed my teacher's advice. I didn't do it before because I was a minor, I needed my tutor's permission and blah blah blah...

Contact with my family at this point was zero, except for the new member, Duke, a sweet and kind boy.

Just looking at him made prayers come to mind for Bruce.

“If you let this kid end up like Jason, I’ll take care of throwing the Joker at you myself, you unhappy idiot.” I was thinking but also listening as Duke energetically told me what his first patrol had been like.

I used to have a certain respect for Bruce, I mean, he's Batman and he does everything in his power to make sure Gotham isn't in such a shitty place.

But then I remember that he keeps adopting children as if they were dogs to give them "A better life" by turning them into human weapons.

Sooooo, yeah, I wish that every day he wakes up with a backache and a headache.

"[Name]"

"Yes dear?" Through the mirror I watched Duke looking at me hopefully as I put on my makeup for the upcoming performance in an hour.

Oh no, I already know what he's going to ask.

"Why do you never come to the mansion?" God, I swear he does that look on purpose, brat.

I sigh as I turn around to look at him.

"You already know my answer, I have no reason to do it and I don't want to either." I said as I turned back to the mirror to continue.

"Yes! I know, but why exactly don't you want to?"

A silence reigned in the room, putting on my makeup but at the same time thinking about what to answer him.

As much as I resent the Waynes, they didn't do anything to Duke, until now, they treat him as he deserves and the last thing I want is to plant that seed of hatred towards them in Duke.

Because I know him, as soon as I tell him what my childhood was like in that mansion and those responsible, the first thing he will do is complain.

And at this point in my life I don't want any unnecessary drama with them.

I lowered the lipstick and looked at him.

"I never liked being in that mansion, since I was little I was always afraid of those giant, dark hallways, and I still am."

Duke stared at me in bewilderment. "Is that the only reason you don't want to come to the mansion?"

I nodded. "It sounds stupid, I know, but every time I walk down those halls it brings back bad memories."

That wasn't a lie.

Duke was silent for a few moments before coming up to me and hugging me.

"Aww, honey you are such a sweetheart sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Yeah, because you can be a brat sometimes too." I laughed as I ruffled Duke's hair until it was disheveled.

"A white lie won't hurt anyone." I thought while Duke laughed and tried to pull my hand out of his hair.

Without realizing it, it was already time to start. I said goodbye to Duke, telling him to go back to the mansion, but he insisted on staying.

Something I allowed, GOD, I should have begged him not to do it.

Because from one moment to the next while I was dancing, all the lights went out and when they came back on I felt like blood was flooding my mouth, like everyone was screaming in fear.

What happened? Why am I bleeding?

Duke, he was next to me trying to keep me awake, to not close my eyes.

It got to the point where I couldn't hear anything he was saying, it was complicated while I felt like a part of my body was bleeding non-stop.

I hate to see him cry, please look away... leave me here.

Please...

I don't want the last thing I see to be you crying...

Please...

She opened her eyes calmly and confusedly, all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. She thought she was in a hospital because of the light.

But when her vision stopped blurring, she realized that the light was not from a hospital spotlight, but from the skylight in the wooden ceiling.

"Wait...Skylight?" She muttered, feeling her voice raspy and her throat sore.

The bed wasn't that soft, it was really hard and uncomfortable but still [Name] didn't want to get up, after almost dying...

[Name] sat up in bed right away.

"I ALMOST DIE!" She literally jumped out of bed and ran to the closet to get her clothes.

She needed to see how Duke was doing, his desperate face and the way he held back the urge to cry and couldn't, broke her heart.

But it was when she pulled out a t-shirt that she realized.

"This isn't my size..." Confused, [Name] walked over to the mirror.

If Duke broke her heart, now she's literally having a heart attack.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" [Name] could swear that any living thing that was near her would have run away in less time than it takes a rooster to crow.

She touched her face carefully, as if it would disappear or break if she touched it hard, this is so weird...a woman in her late twenties trapped in her fifteen year old self, god, what a hell.

[Name] She stepped back without taking her eyes off the mirror while she sat back down on her bed.

On the other side of the door, she heard someone knocking on it two or three times. Accompanied by a soft but direct voice calling her name.

"Miss [Name]"

[Name] immediately turned around to stare at the door, for a few short moments no one said anything, there was only silence.

"Are you okay? You didn't come down to breakfast. That's not something usual for you." Alfred said once he got no response from her.

"Yeah, I'm fine Alfred...I just stayed up late last night that's all..." She didn't know what to say, obviously it wasn't okay, but she didn't want any more problems in her head, she just wanted to focus on the main problem.

She literally just got younger, which would be a good thing if it weren't for the fact that she also came back to this damn mansion.

"Okay, miss, I'll be waiting for you with your breakfast, you need to eat something before you start the day." [Name] was about to reply until Alfred stepped in. "Also, Happy Birthday Miss."

She didn't say anything, she didn't want to.

Alfred walked away from the door, [Name] could hear his footsteps moving away through the hallways and down the stairs.

"Was it always this quiet?" She muttered in her mind as she turned her gaze back to the mirror.

She thought about her life before coming back here, it wasn't good, she didn't earn much from dancing, but... it was her life, a life that took her time to perfect.

And now, I go back to the beginning? Shit, no.

"Alive or dead, I don't care, either way I'm getting out of here..." She said with some frustration and tiredness. "Happy birthday to me...that's new."

With nothing left to lose, she gets back out of bed to find some clothes to change into.

It was her birthday and she had to look good.

And hopefully, it would be the last birthday she would spend in this mansion.

NOTES: Hi, I hope everything is okay, even if it's better than me, I had finished the 'prologue' a while ago but I was feeling a bit unsure that something felt out of place or "weird".

I repeat and reiterate, I can understand English but in terms of speaking/writing it I am still learning. Until I feel completely confident for now I will continue using the translator (my savior).

But if there are any errors (probably some, I hope not many) let me know, I want everyone to be able to read comfortably and as long as I can I will make it happen.

Anyway, I hope you like it, I love you! Muak muak💋💋

TAGS:

@crazycaoticsimp @closetreader1864

[mocchii-writes]

Hiiii! Could you do a Thanos x reader where the reader has a really shitty ex who’s in the games and is being cruel to her and Thanos just straight up wipes the floor with him?

Bonus points if he also gets him eliminated in the next game haha

In the Storm, I Stay Clear

Paring: Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x fem!reader

Summary: After your ex is unfortunately in the games, but Thanos doesn't hesitate to do you a favor.

Words: uhh a few

Warnings: Swearing, bullying :<

A/n: Grr, I know this is short, but I have a lot of req rn. I'm sorry ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You really thought your day couldn't get any worse. You were practically kidnapped, stripped of your belongings, and thrown into a concrete cage with hundreds of other people. But luck had decided to leave you in the dust, apparently. You had survived the Six-Legged Pentathalon with little to no struggle, though it was totally jarring. You're trying to relax when you hear a chilling sound.

"I didn't know there was a rat problem here. Though I wouldn't put it past this place." It calls. You freeze. Why was your ex here? Your mind flows a tsunami of thoughts through you before you organize them and respond.

"Get lost, I don't want to talk to you." You think it seems direct enough that he'll scoff and leave, but that's really your mistake.

"Why so aggressive? The past is the past! C'mon, ease up!" By now, he's walked around to look at you. You simply continue eating your food, easily ignoring what he says and sniffling a laugh. "Hey!" He snaps, dropping his cocky demeanor. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

You can't catch yourself when you let your guard down for a second. He swipes his hand across your tray, knocking the food down and onto the floor. It rattles with a loud clank that turns eyes to you two. He smirks and looks back at you.

"This isn't over, bitch. Do you think you can just run away from your problems?" He steps closer, lowering his voice as you keep your face stone. "I'll make sure you know what it feels to be hurt." He says. It's a stupid threat. It's much too vague to be taken seriously, and he looks really dumb at this angle. You snicker at him, which is a mistake, apparently.

You hear the gasps before the stinging on your face, but you're not surprised. He winds up to slap you again, but he's jerked by something. You finally lift your head back up to see him, but it's not him you see.

It was Thanos, though that's probably not his name. He had made himself quite popular, and you wouldn't deny the fact he had the face for fame. He's holding your ex by the collar, pulling him to look at his face. He mutters something you can't hear, and swiftly lands a punch straight to his jaw.

Unsurprisingly, your ex stumbles to the ground, rubbing his jaw as he starts to get up. He's stopped, though, by a hard kick to his gut. He groans in pain as Thanos stomps onto his hand. Thanos pulls him back up.

"You clearly never learned how to treat women, no?" He says lowly, the boy shaking his head quickly, muttering apologies. "Don't apologize to me, bitch." Thanos twists your ex's shoulders around and you're face to face with him again, only this time he's pathetic.

"I'm... sorry..." He whispers, looking down at his hands, bruising quickly. This was a sight you would surely never forget. You smile, tilting your head.

"I can't hear you." You coo, laughing at his state as he mutters another louder apology. Thanos throws him back to the ground before fixing his hair and approaching you.

"Senorita, you know I'd never treat you like that if you were mine, yeah?" He says, looking at you with a new tint in his eyes.

"I admire your effort, but you gotta give it a moment." You smile, bringing your hands to his forearms. "Thank you." You say, quieter. You can tell his attitude softens, though you're unsure what shows it. His eyes remain confident, and he nods at you, smiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mingle? It sounded simple enough to you, but that's not in practice. You haven't made a lot of friends here, so you'll have to hope for a pity party or a desperate group. You're jerked out of your thoughts by the circular platform you're standing on suddenly begining to spin. Eerily cheerful children's music begins to echo through the area, and a number is called out.

"Five."

Well, that's four too many, as your luck would bring it. Seemingly for your ex, too, as he comes running to you immediately. He's got a busted lip, and he's pleading with you about something, but you're not listening, tracking your eyes to search for people.

You feel a hand on your arm pull you backwards, but your ex has a string hand on your arm. You outstretched your arms, turning to look at the person on your other side. To no surprise, it's Thanos. He has 4 people behind him, and they're all looking at you. You try to run, but your ex is really not letting up his grip. Okay, now you're panicking. You glance to the large red clock.

00:08

You're not going to make it unless something is done about your situation you're frozen in. Lucky for you, a kick is heaved to the chest of your ex, sending him backward as you're dragged away before you can process it. The door is quickly sut behind you, and you turn to Thanos, his hand still holding your wrist.

"Thank you." You whisper. He smirks cockily, but you let it slide. He pulls his hand from your wrist to your hand as you hear gunshots echo. One less problem for you, I guess.

Idk if I like this, but it was pretty fun to write ♡

~🍡🍡

[sovamurka]

Thinking about how Ma Meilleure Ennemie can be considered a continuation and an interesting thematic expansion of Enemy.

"No shit, lmao, they both have the word enemy in them".

Like, yes, that's exactly the point.

But there's more to it than meets the eye.

We all know that Enemy in many ways is meant to be from Jinx's perspective (music video supports that) - it's HER internal worries, it's HER exhaustingly sad sarcasm, it's HER wreck of emotions that she can't stop.

The song explains why and how she basically convinced herself that she's a curse and will never be a saint no matter what she does.

She exclaims that everybody wants to be her enemy. For her this word means "the person that everyone hates, the person who everyone abandoned, the person for whom no one prays or hopes".

And then in Ma Meilleure Ennemie Ekko... agrees with her - she IS his enemy. But to him this word has so much more meaning and underlying feelings than just "the person I'm against, the person I hate".

For him enemy is also someone who's always near - if not in body, then in mind. Someone who truly shares history with you and can hurt you in more ways than one.

Who you hate so much because you had too much love in your heart for them.

Hatred is not the opposite of love, it's just love with a minus instead of plus, the true opposite of love is indifference. And Ekko feels anything but indifference towards Jinx, even though he tried so many times to convince himself otherwise.

First verse of the song is basically his admission that she's an essential part of him - no matter what he does, no matter how many times he forces himself to forget, no matter how much he tries to keep his enemy out of his mind.

He knows he should stay away, he knows he should keep his own heart under hundreds of locks to not let anyone break it again. But he can't help it. He still loves her despite everything, including his own self.

That's why he also agrees that she's indeed a curse. The most beautiful one. She haunts his thoughts and he hates himself for finding comfort in it. But it's better to be in a bad company than alone, am I right?

The chorus of Ma Meilleure Ennemie sounds almost like a last resort - a mutual attempt to push each other away.

To make matters worse, the whole "meilleur/pire" (best/worst) dichotomy that is constantly present in the song literally from the beginning, is a simple yet clever play on a famous wedding vow - "Pour le meilleur et pour le pire" (translation: for the best and the worst of it). The more they try to convince each other that they should not be together, the more they intertwine their fates because they repeat this vow again and again.

And then in the second verse of Ma Meilleure Ennemie Jinx finally lets herself say things she was so afraid to say before. Lets her feelings and thoughts be known in the most vulnerable way possible. Not with Enemy's upset angry screaming but with this gentle melodic whisper.

And what does she have to say about her feelings towards the person who she shares so much complicated history with?

That his name cuts her open every time she hears it. And that's why she doesn't say it - it hurts her so much.

Ekko's name literally echoes in her mind. Jinx can't even say for sure whether this pain she feels comes from hatred that formed over the years or from pure sweetness, softness and gentleness that she still keeps in her heart for him.

And then comes Je t’avais dit: “Ne regarde pas en arrière” (translation: I told you not to look back) which is such an obvious Orpheus and Eurydice myth reference when you say it out loud.

Albeit, their situation is an interesting take on this myth.

Let me explain. Orpheus had a chance to bring his wife Eurydice back to the land of the living if he guided her there without looking back or else she would end up in the underworld again. There are several versions of the myth that give different explanations on why Orpheus turns back, but they all agree on one thing - it was done because of love.

However, in Ekko's case it's kind of a reverse situation - Jinx will disappear if he turns away from her.

That's what, in my opinion, Turn Your Back and I'll Disappear song means, actually.

And here, at the end of second verse, Jinx explicitly tells Ekko that he shouldn't look back. He should leave past behind, should leave her behind, let her disappear from his life and from this world altogether or else everything will get infinitely worse.

But of course he doesn't, of course he turns back (time) again and again.

He does it because he loves her, just like Orpheus loves Eurydice.

Despite not having much screen time, timebomb still managed to tell such a wonderful intricately woven story.

I analysed just a small part of Jinx and Ekko's symbolic lyricism. Believe me, there's still so much more to talk about and uncover since this story is told through different forms of art that are all worth your attention.

[monsters-demons-and-ai-oh-my]

Hit the nail on the head.

-

But now that I've thought about it more I want to go back to Jayce's line "Which is worse? Killed or expelled?"

Because the fact that he wrote that when he was stuck and unable to move forward I think shows that he wasn't going to pull out of the spiral on his own. Stopping working on hextech was never an option for him.

He saw his options as "keep working getting nowhere until your grades drop further and you get expelled" OR "push too hard now and potentially end up dead."

And he was wondering if getting killed by his invention would be better.

So that's what I mean when I say "concerning thoughts" because if that's what that means then he already showed signs of suicidal ideation.

-------

Honestly, you might be right about the reason why Jayce was written more like Giopara in the journal despite it being written for Arcane, it’s very plausible.

But I will say this:

And this is pure conjecture for the most part...

To me ACT 1 Jayce did seem to act more abrasive, quick to be offended, and generally more “I will bend other people to my opinion because I’m right and they’re wrong even if it is illegal.” than he did in most of ACT 2 &3.

Like when he tells off Ximena off for not believing in him and was convinced if he kept talking he could have forced the council to see his side of things.

Or how he goes to the Kirammin’s expecting help after being kicked not even realizing he basically spat in their face by not accepting their attempt to get him off with a smack on the wrist and how he put them in a bad light just by associating them with magic and his illegal activities.

And I can see why logically feeling like you are backed in a corner like his character was hiding his work you would grow jealous and paranoid, and closed off enough to the point of putting others down even if in a normal headspace you wouldn’t.

I feel like the experience of being kicked out of the academy and having to face that he couldn't actually force people to see his side and/OR just having Viktor (a presence that was supportive but not a pushover that he didn’t have to treat like a potential threat to his goals) could have been what mellowed him out.

Also I think Jayce not seeing others clearly could play into the themes of isolation we later see with Viktor, that Jayce while isolated, found himself in a way of thinking that really diminished the importance of other people.

But then again I like trying to weave lose ends in writing together. So take everything I say with a grain of salt.

TW: Talk about mental health and sui ideation and sui attempt

I feel the need to talk more about Jayce's "attempt" again because of what I learned from his journal in the "Council Archives"

There's a fair argument to be made that Jayce was already in a very bad headspace even BEFORE the explosion in his apartment.

I you read Jayce's journals it feels like Jayce was ALREADY spiraling before he got kicked out of the academy. For a few reasons.

-----

1.Jayce was very isolated to begin with.

He was working on experiments he knew were illegal and was so paranoid about being found out he started coming up with insults to call another student who almost caught him throwing away a failed experiment.

He also seemed to only be able to cheer himself up by talking shit about other people's work and how everyone else just couldn't measure up to how important his work was and would be. And when he finally meets Viktor he talks about never really thinking he'd take to working with another scientist.

(Honestly, pre-act 1 Jayce comes off a little more like his LOL counterpart which make me believe Arcane Jayce meeting and working with Viktor as early as he did is what helped make him the version of himself he is in Arcane?)

------

2. Jayce was not really sleeping and his schoolwork and grades were going downhill.

He talks in his journal about the fact that he's not getting to sleep until sunrise a lot of nights because he was trying and failing to make the crystals work.

And as a direct consequence of not sleeping he talks about Heimerdinger (the DEAN) having to come talk to him because his grades are slipping.

Jayce literally decides to make a graph correlating his lack of sleep to his poor academic performance.

(Later he expresses concern that he might get expelled from the academy because his work is slipping that badly).

And remember all the while when he is so sleep-deprived he can't focus on coursework he it FULLY CONVINCED he can figure out Hextech. You know a whole new field of study. It doesn't work, shockingly.

------

3. Ximena was already worried about Jayce wellbeing and trying to get him to go outside and be around others.

He eats some snacks insults some people's work to himself and then goes back to doing what he was doing.

Not a lot to talk about with this one except it's no wonder she tried to get him to back off magic if she could already tell he wasn't okay especially when we consider the state he was in at that point.

You also see that both his mother and Heimerdinger were expressing valid concern for him only for him to brush it off.

-----

4. Near the end of the journal entries before we get to the ACT 1 content he says some concerning things considering his later attempt on his life.

First he starts to doubt what he's getting anywhere he remembers something Heimdinger once said about most inventors failing a 1000 times before succeeding and he makes a self-deprecating joke about "I suppose I must be closing in...".

Then he straight up says he can't see a path forward.

And when makes a pros and cons list of his experiments where he talks about how the work with the crystals is very dangerous and if he pushes to much it could kill him but also how he's in danger of getting expelled if he can't sort out his schoolwork.

and then he writes.

"Which is worse? Killed or expelled?"

Which is certainly a Harry Potter reference but also given his eventual attempt is very telling.

And it's closely followed by him saying his mom was worried about him, which... seems valid.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Also on a side note unrelated to the journal entries.

Jayce's attempt was not a choice made suddenly in a rush of emotion like Viktor's, he planned it.

Jayce not only left what was implied to be a suicide note he took the methodical time to literally WAX SEAL the note with his official house mark. And it took Viktor a long long while of talking to him to get him to back away from the ledge. He was fully committed to committing.

-------------------------------------------------

Final thoughts: I think Jayce was in a place in his mind backed into a corner.

He wasn't able to reach out for help or even trust anyone because of the nature of his work. He wasn't listening to people that were concerned about him. And the way in which Jayce was doing his work was damaging to himself and his life in general. He was spiraling.

He needed someone else there to share the weight of what he was trying to do, to be able to reach out to outside of his own head which was the person Viktor became to him.

Part of me even wonders if Jayce was already in a place where he might have ended up on that ledge without the explosion if he didn't change his ways or have a sudden breakthrough.

[raven-dor]

i'll be watching you

in which steve harrington can’t stop thinking about the one girl who believed in him

PAIRING: steve harrington x fem!reader, dustin henderson x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, young love, realization, ANGST ANGST ANGST, nostalgia, CRAZY amounts of yearning, obliviousness

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

AN: this hurt to write... enjoy!! (also the 'present' is the mid 90's, so Steve and you are in your late 20's)

Steve was utterly confused. First, he decides, of his own volition, to apologize to Jonathan Wheeler. Then, he knocks on the boy’s door to find Y/N, panic evident in her expression and her hand bleeding. 

He bursts in, worried about her safety, to then find that his girlfriend is also there, with a gun pointed at his face.

He was then dragged through the Wheeler’s house away from some sort of creature before finally being ushered out by Y/N, her words haunting him as he opened the car door. “I don’t want you wrapped up in this, Steve. Just leave it alone.” 

Why would she care? And why could she be involved, but not him? No, Steve thought to himself as he grabbed his bat, she could not go through this alone. (He would later reference this moment as the second his feelings for her grew past friendship.) Screams rang through the Byers property, and Steve burst through the door once more, swinging his bat and slamming the monster square in the face. 

Y/N was on the floor, grinning wildly at the boy before her. “Steve!” He ran over, extending his hand and pulling her into his arms. “What are you-” 

“Don’t tell me to leave it alone ever again.” He whispered.

She nodded, hugging him tightly. “Fine.” 

A cough interrupted their moment, and they pulled apart, remembering where they were. Y/N laughed, nudging the King of Hawkins lightly. “You’re quite the hero.” 

A chill ran down his spine, and he clenched his eyes shut. She made him crazy sometimes.

Steve groaned, shoving his face further into his pillow. Not again, he thought. This had been the third time this week he’d woke up this early. Every time it was the same, it was almost like he was going back in time, his dreams exactly as they had been in real life. 

And every time it revolved around her. 

He rolled over, staring at the ceiling. Why couldn’t he have a dream about puppies or his dream job?

His alarm clock rang, and his heart dropped. “Shit!” Jumping out of bed, he sprinted to the bathroom, fixing his hair as best he could in two minutes.

His real shift at his very real job started in ten minutes.

“Y/N!” 

God, she forgot how dismal this gym could be. All the horrible memories of middle school gym class came rushing back. Over by the locker room is where Tracy C. tripped her ‘on accident.’ The bleachers were where she’d sit when she wasn’t picked for dodgeball. 

And by the exit door was where she would secretly cheer for Steve as he played basketball. 

She was sure some of these kids, at least the ones she knew, had had the same happen to them. The doors to the gym opened for the hundredth time, Dustin Henderson walking through with what Y/N could only identify as a Steve Harrington special. 

She waved at the boy, smiling brightly as he walked across the gym to meet her.

She hoped he hadn’t seen her space out.

“Are you okay?” 

So he had. Y/N smiled, nodding. “Of course I am, now that you’re here.” He blushed. “You look very handsome, Dustin.” 

“Thank you.” He grinned. “Steve helped me.” 

“Really?” She smiled, laughing to herself. “That’s really nice of him.” 

“We’re friends now!” Dustin was still grinning. “He drove me here.” 

Her eyes darted toward the entrance, and the young boy’s face fell ever so slightly. “He said he doesn’t want to come in because…” He motioned for Y/N to lean down, whispering in her ear. “Because of Nancy.” 

Of course, how could she forget about Nancy? She loved her friend, but her heart ached to think about Steve’s undying love for her. “Ah.” She locked her lips, figuratively throwing away the key. “Your secret is safe with-” 

“Henderson.” 

She looked up, locking eyes with Steve’s instantly. He was beautiful in that color, she realized. It brought out the gold in his eyes.

“Wow.” Steve smiled shyly, rubbing a hand on his neck. “You-” 

“Are you kidding me?” He murmured as his eyes peeled open. 

This had to stop. 

He already deeply regretted his life choices, and now he couldn’t even escape them in sleep. He drove to work grumpily, parked his car grumpily, and stood at the Family Video counter grumpily. Robin laughed, shaking her head. 

“Woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” 

He glared, sticking his tongue out. “Good morning to you too, Robin.” 

“You’ve been pissy lately,” Robin said it like it was a fact like everyone in Hawkins had been talking about it. “What’s up, Harrington?” 

“I-” He couldn’t tell Robin, she would never let him live this down. No, this was the type of thing you kept to yourself, driving yourself crazy until- “Just had a rough night.” 

“Okay.” Her shoulders deflated, grabbing the cart full of VHS tapes. “Let me know when you want to tell the truth.” 

“Shit, shit shit.” Y/N’s eyes were glassy as she clung to Steve’s side, supporting him as he walked. “Why’d you have to be the hero?” 

“That’s part of my-” He winced, laughing as her face grew even more worried. “Part of my charm, babe.” 

Y/N ignored the way her cheeks flushed, leaning him against the giant boulder. “Just be quiet.”

He nodded, leaning his head back in pain. “No problem.” 

“Really?” She scoffed, muttering thanks as Robin handed her cloth to wrap around his (chiseled) abdomen. “You scared me, you know.” 

Her voice was soft, much softer than normal. It sounded weak; scared even. He frowned, reaching out and brushing her hair out of her eyes. “Didn’t mean to.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you did, Harrington.”

“Can you just-” He sighed. “Can you look at me? You haven’t met my eyes since you’ve gotten down here.” 

She shook her head, trying her best to wipe away the dirt from his gaping wound. “I really hope this doesn’t get infected.” 

“Y/N, come on.” He smiled, forcing himself not to cry out in pain. “Look at me.” 

“I think Eddie’s-” Robin received a hard glare from Steve, and she nodded, walking away without another word. 

Her face felt hot, eyes watery as she looked up at him. He grinned, whispering so that only they could hear. “There she is.”

“Here I am.” She whispered back, tears falling down her cheeks freely. “Now can I-” 

“I’m so mad at you right now.” 

Her head cocked to the side. “What?” She must have misheard him. 

“You heard me.” His tone was tense, but his eyes told a different story. “I said to stay in the boat, didn’t I? Don’t follow after me.” He scoffed, flailing his arms, pain ringing through his aching muscles. “And what did you do? You followed me.” 

“As opposed to what? Watching helplessly as you were dragged into hell?” She stood up, glaring. “Would you rather have died down here?” More tears fell as she stared, hissing at him so the others couldn’t hear. “You don’t have to do everything alone!” 

“I know that-” 

“Then why can’t I follow after you? Huh?” She glared. “You’re not the boss of-” 

“I didn’t want you wrapped up in this!” He yelled, Nancy, Eddie, and Robin jumping at the sound. “You should’ve left it alone.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, last I checked, I was involved first.” She yelled back. “Now shut up so I can fix you.” She knelt again, tying the cloth Robin gave her earlier gently around him. An uncomfortable silence fell over them before she spoke once more. “Just be careful, alright? I can’t do this without you.” 

“Y/N…” His eyes were watering, from the pain or what she said, he couldn’t tell. “I’m sorry.” 

“Good.” She wiped the dirt from her hands. “I’m sorry too, I guess.” She stood up, muttering. “Even though I have no reason to apologize.” 

He laughed, reaching out for her hold. “Could I-” 

“Yes! Yeah, of course.” His arm expertly laid around her shoulders, and in another life, they could have walked through Hawkins High like this. “Please stop acting like the hero. I can’t bear it.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

She nodded, her eyes full of desperation, and his heart skipped. Shit. “Yeah.” 

He nodded, kissing her temple gently. “Whatever you want, babe.” 

“Hey!” Eddie’s voice interrupted whatever was happening between them. “Why don’t you take a break? I can take care of Harrington for a bit.” 

“Are you sure?” Y/N frowned, not even bothering to look at her best friend, still staring up at Steve with that dangerous look in her eyes. “I really don’t mind.” 

“Y/N.” Steve whispered. “You’ve done enough for me to last a lifetime. I’ll be okay.” 

She looked hurt, but let go of Steve regardless. “Alright, he’s all yours, Munson.” 

Eddie waited until she was by Robin and Nancy to speak. “She was the first one to dive in after you.”

Steve smiled. “Really?”

Eddie nodded. “You know she likes you, right?” 

“I know.” He laughed as he watched her jump on Robin’s back. “I like her too.” 

“Good, good.” Eddie placed a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Just, don’t hurt her, okay? She seems strong, but…” 

“I won’t.” Steve was so confident in it, so sure. “I would never do anything to hurt her.” 

His latest dream had thrown him for a loop. Eddie, a man he was never close with in school, died hours after that. God, he thought as he ran through the streets of his neighborhood, that had been the last time he’d talked to the metalhead. 

His shower was cold, and not because he forgot to pay the water bill. He’d made it cold on purpose, maybe this was how he would stop having these dreams. 

Lately, they felt closer to nightmares. This one, in particular, had reminded him of how close they'd been, of how hard Y/N had taken it when Eddie had died. It had never been the right time to ask her, he kept telling himself, even after she left, and he stayed. 

'Never the right time' had been his downfall. 

Work had been the same, a mother asking for a children’s movie, a teenager who was obviously not old enough to rent an R-rated movie asking where they could find one, and an older couple asking for Gone With The Wind. The door rang for the fourth time that day, and he recited the same old boring greeting. “Welcome to Family Video, do you need-” He looked up, his breath catching in his throat. 

It couldn’t be. 

“It’s been a while, Harrington.” She laughed, and his heart fluttered. God, her laugh was still the most perfect sound he’d ever heard. “Are you doing alright?” 

“I-” He grinned. Was this real? It had to be- nope, he had officially losing it. He should have opened up to Robin when he had the chance.

“Hello?” She stepped forward, giggling. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’re spacing out on me. That’s my thing, you know. Not yours.” 

He laughed. “You look-” 

“Mama!” A little boy ran through the front door, clinging to Y/N’s leg. 

Steve’s head felt like it was spinning. 

“Hey, babe.” A man, around their age, walked up beside her, kissing her cheek gently. She grinned, leaning into his hold. “I tried to entertain him in the parking lot-” 

“It’s fine, honey.” She smiled, looking back at Steve with a sort of melancholy look. “This is Steve.” 

Steve waved, and the man waved back. Y/N’s cheeks were red, and in any normal situation, Steve would have laughed. She was cute when she was flustered. 

Right now, he couldn't find it in him to tease. He just wanted to curl up on the floor and die. “This is my husband Nick, and our son, Edmund.”

“No!” The little boy’s shrill yell livened up the place. 

Y/N laughed, looking down endearingly. “No, huh?” 

He nodded. “My name is Eddie.” 

Steve’s heart dropped, tears forming in his eyes as he stared at Y/N. Her husband laughed too, kneeling. “Kiddo, your nickname is Eddie. Your name is-” 

“Eddie!” 

‘Nick’ just laughed again, standing up. “There’s no convincing this one, I’m afraid.” 

Y/N stared back at Steve, trying to gauge his reaction. He finally spoke, finally said a full sentence for the first time since she’d walked in. “It’s a good name, Eddie.” 

She nodded, her eyes growing teary. “It is.” 

She was just as perfect as the last time he’d seen her. Radiant, happy, glowing, all things she was now. He knew, deep down, if he had told her that he loved her, she would have stayed, put her life on hold to be with him. And that - that was Steve’s worst nightmare. 

She had an actual chance, to leave, to make something of herself, and he wasn’t going to be the reason she never achieved it. He hadn’t, as he stared helplessly at her family, heart officially breaking when her husband set his hand on her growing stomach. “I get to name the next one.” 

Y/N shook her head, smacking his chest playfully. “I thought you said you liked Edmund.” 

“Kidding, babe.” He looked at Steve, smiling awkwardly. “Did you two know each other well?” 

Steve shook his head before he could think. “Just knew each other from school.” How do you tell the love of your life’s husband that you fought monsters together? He was almost sure Y/N hadn’t told him, and Steve didn’t blame her. He’d never told anyone either. “She was always the smart one, no one could keep up.” 

She wiped the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes, laughing. “I wouldn’t say that…” 

Nick, who was really a nice guy, Steve would later realize (even if he hated his guts at that moment) nodded. “You still are.” He looked at Steve again, laughing. “She runs circles around me. I wouldn’t have it any other way though.” He kissed Y/N on the cheek, staring at her the way Steve wished he could. “Keeps me young.” 

That had made Steve laugh. Damn it. Y/N had laughed too, rolling her eyes. “You're 29, Nick. Not exactly old here.” 

“Speak for yourself.” Nick clapped his hands, grabbing Edmund from his wife’s leg. “Have any cartoons for this one?” 

Steve nodded, leading them down the aisles toward the kid's section. “Aladdin’s a good one.” 

Eddie had lost energy as quickly as he’d gained it, Nick carrying him to the car with a haphazard ‘nice to meet you’ thrown in Steve’s general direction. 

Y/N stood in front of the counter, handing Steve the cash for the movie. Her tone was light as she spoke, almost like no time had passed. “He’s a good kid.” 

Steve smiled. “Takes after his mother.” 

“He-” Her voice sounded thick, and she stared at him with something Steve couldn’t quite place. “I hope you’re doing okay, really.” 

He nodded. That seemed to be all he could do now. “I am.” 

“Well…” She clapped her hands, walking back. “I’ll see you.” 

She pushed the door open, sparing one last look before disappearing from his sight.

Maybe, he thought to himself as his very soul began to die, it would have been better just to go mad. Go mad thinking about what could have been, rather than seeing her and realizing she had everything he'd hoped for.

Just not with him.

taglist: @kendallroydefender @beebeechaos

[matteglaze]

Thinking about, tired fisherman! Aizawa and Shark! Reader

Aizawa has always been a great fisherman, almost abnormally so, with large catches and even larger fish. Others always ask him, how does he do it? Though, he never entertains it.

In, comes you, you make sure to follow Aizawa around— because it seems like he knows all the spots with the most plump fish. You end up turning it into a graveyard once he's left, eating everything in your wake.

Now, whenever Aizawa returns to his usual spots he's cursed to be in a drought. There's no more fish, and no fish means no money, no money means no food on his plate.

He spends hours at a time just waiting for something to hook onto his line, waiting and waiting, and when nothing happens he comes back the next day to do it again.

You take pity on him, of course you do, and decide to 'help' him out.

This leads to a series of strange events.

When Aizawa first finds out that you're some sort of mermaid— "No mermaid, shark" (you always correct him)— he thinks he's going insane.

But I also feel like he gets somewhat used to the idea (it's still very strange). You then express that you've always had an interest in humans, and Aizawa learns that you've managed to learn his language by spying on other fishermen's conversations.

(At least that explains your odd dialogue)

"Shouta, got any on ya fish, fella?"

Though, the order of your words could use work. It's why he suggests that, if you can help him out with fishing, he can help you out with learning more about humans (since you seem to harbour a strange fascination with them).

At first, you deny his offer. Mostly because in your culture, it's a courting ritual to provide for the one you want to mate, and then they offer you something back as well.

And, you aren't that interested in Shouta. If you wanted to court a man, you'd choose the one with a large boat, that likes to sing to songs on the radio and tease Shouta.

Why would you go after Aizawa? He seems to be the weakest of his kind. Small boat, quiet, and you could easily eat him.

But with the more time you spend with Aizawa,, the more you start to like him.

So you agree, and Aizawa thinks nothing of it (maybe you just had a change of mind), but then this starts the series of you courting him.

You offer him big fish, almost too large for his boat, and many gems as well, all of which he ends up selling.

It isn't until you're both inside of a desolate cave, him sitting on the edge with his feet in, and you in the water.

You bring your hands up to his legs, and he jerks away.

".. What are you doing"

You almost seem bashful when you turn your head to the side, hands still hung up as if they're frozen in time.

"Will bring big fish if you let" you murmur.

Aizawa knows better now than to fall for your shy act, but he's been curious about you, too.

"I'd like to see.. your, uh, tail" was that a normal thing to ask? It wasn't, like, offensive right? I mean, you asked to feel his legs— so it can't be that weird..

Instead, it seems like you preen at the idea, puffing out your chest proudly. It was always a positive sign when future mates showed interest, and once he gets a look at the scars littering your tail, he'd practically be in awe at your pure, sheer strength!

It doesn't take much for you to lift yourself above the water, finding a spot next to him as you run your fingers across his legs, toying with the hair that grows and playing around with his knee.

"Good catch" you say.

Aizawa looks anywhere but you, and once it's his turn to explore your tail he just looks— far too in his head to touch the skin.

It goes on like this for a few weeks, you bringing him fish, he explains basic concepts of human behaviour and sometimes even brings you fruit or home cooked meals.

"I like when you provide food, mate"

And Shouta startles, eyes wide and mouth shut closed.

You didn't mean it like that, he rationalizes, you probably meant it in a friendly way—

So why can't he stop thinking about it?

ummm am I writing a longshot based off of this? noooo....

I'm very excited for this year's mermay fics !!

[the-crooked-library]

I would like to point out how clearly remake shows us that Ellen is not satisfied with Thomas sexually because their sex scene which is shot to be not sexy on purpose clearly, also shows us that when Thomas takes her Ellen thinks and talks about Orlok and wants Thomas to be like Orlok aka kiss her heart. But he can’t. He can’t give her what she wants.

^^^^ YES this aspect is incredibly prominent, and a significant component of the disconnect in Ellen's marriage to Thomas! There's a few intersecting issues there, but they all do come down to the same thing. Ellen isn't satisfied, because Thomas is never willing to actually take her desires and preferences into account when they are together.

It's shown numerous times that, in a sexual context, Ellen wants to be worshipped. She has a dominant and possessive streak, she is extremely sensual, and these elements are essential to her pleasure. They also intersect with her desire to be seen and recognized for who she is, as well to be given the respect she is so consistently denied. These desires are all strongly discouraged - both in her time, and sometimes in ours. As a woman, she is expected to be deferring; and chaste, except for when her husband chooses. Her opinions and complexity are also never really considered; which is not unexpected, of course. Ellen is a Tragic Madwoman - it's Ophelia, all over again. If you recall, when Hamlet appears mad, the people around him assume there is more to it than his father's death; but when Ophelia does, everybody chalks it up to her father's murder, and nothing else. With all that said, what I personally love about Ellen is that, despite whatever shame she might feel around the subject, or her efforts to be proper, she always knows exactly what she wants. In part, that's what makes her married life so tragic - she keeps reaching out to Thomas, offering him these vulnerable aspects of herself, as well as an opportunity to understand her and connect with her; and she is met with one rejection after another. Still, she cannot ignore what she is - and her choosing Orlok in the end is symbolic of her deciding to "deceive" herself no longer.

Thomas, by contrast, is playing mind games with himself. In theory, he could be submissive. If he indulged that potential within himself, it could be a way for them to connect - considering Ellen's inclinations; however, he sees this aspect of himself as weak, emasculating, shameful, and thus never explores it - except by force, as per the usual gothic exploration of shame/desire, which muddles the waters in that regard. Much of the way he treats Ellen is rooted in the patriarchal rules he cannot bring himself to abandon, since doing so threatens his own sense of masculinity - and, by extension, dignity and self-worth. As such, whenever faced with a situation that might prompt him to be soft, emotional, or worshipful of her, he overcorrects instead. He is afraid of Ellen's perceived "abnormality" because of what it might mean for him. Additionally, he is fairly obviously queercoded, in a classic vampire-genre way; which, in my opinion, is yet another reason they just don't quite seem to click. Whatever he might want out of a sexual relationship, he doesn't really want it with Ellen - and, of course, given his homophobic society, that just piles on more shame, emasculation, and repression. This is why, after their one depicted sexual scene, when she laments her "uncleanliness," he cannot reassure her, no matter how he tries. He cannot accept the "abnormal" aspects of her, because the way he sees her is always affected by the way he sees himself - through a lens of misogyny, queerphobia, and horror. His care for her is therefore largely superficial; he does not know her.

All in all, I am obsessed with this aspect of their failmarriage. They're both so lonely and so desperate for companionship; but neither of them is getting what they want. Not with each other.

[loversray]

“Byler is in Stranger Things to show unrequited love” Yet, it isn’t.

Stranger Things has shown unrequited ‘love’ before, with Dustin’s crush on Max (who liked Lucas) which i feel like it’s a storyline that most people forget. Which it’s okay, since it’s not that relevant to the story, i just wanted to show how differently Dustin and Max’s story is to Mike and Will’s.

🧢👩🏻‍🦰 How exactly were Dustin & Max written?

For starters, the show doesn’t tell us why Max and Dustin would be good together as a couple. They go well as friends, yes, but they do not show a meaningful conversation between them that really shows the romantic chemistry and how much they understand eachother, like the Lumax bus scene.

Dustin only thinks Max is “awesome” because she skateboards, and has the top score in Dig Dug, because he doesn’t know her.

They highlight that Dustin is not in love with Max, hence the Steve scene, where Steve goes “You’re not falling in love with this girl are you?” which to Dustin honestly says no, because he’s not in love, it’s a just crush. Also an important note when writing something unrequited with 15 year olds.

Then, Dustin speaks to Lucas and says “he could feel the electricity” between him and Max, which is him ultimately accepting that Max does not like him back, and instead likes Lucas.

Is he upset about it? Yes, he is, however, it’s not mentioned again in the show after season 2 because he’s over it. In just a few months, he’s got a new girlfriend, and he doesn’t like Max anymore. He got over it quick, because it was just a crush, and he didn’t know her that well.

In seasons 3&4, Dustin is able to act completely act normal around Max, because he doesn’t like her anymore.

Now, while Lucas also liked Max at first, not as much as Dustin, and as he talks with her more and knows her better (hence, them having more scenes) you see Lumax developing.

💙💛 Where does this put Byler?

Byler is written very differently. First, by season 4, Mike and Will have known eachother and been bestfriends for 10 years. (Since kindergarten), so right off the bat, they KNOW eachother. Dustin didn’t know Max.

Stranger Things has so many scenes of Mike and Will to show us just how special this thing between them is. They have a lot of scenes filled with chemistry, showing how much they understand eachother and how they’d do anything for eachother. (Said by Mike, he’d do anything for Will.)

So, they show us why Mike and Will would be a good couple. Something they didn’t with Max and Dustin.

Noah Schnapp then went on to say “You could never really tell if [Byler] was something romantic or just a really special friendship.”

Next, they show us just how much Will’s in love with Mike. (Also confirmed by Noah Schnapp) So, not a crush like Dustin. He’s in love with Mike. The painting and the van scene proves it. It shows us Will’s feelings for Mike, and how actually deep they are.

Will doesn’t say “Mike’s cool because he skateboards” like Dustin says about Max, he says “You’re the heart, and without you we’d (I) all fall apart.” and “You make her (me) feel like she’s (i’m) not a mistake at all. Like she’s (i’m) better for being different.” Basically, that he’s better for loving Mike. Mike makes Will feel like he’s not a mistake.

So, it’s very obviously NOT a shallow crush, and not something Will can move on from in a few months like Dustin. Will’s happy ending is not moving on from Mike, it’s getting together with Mike. If he moves on in like, a year with someone else completely whom he shares no understanding with, it’s completely bad writing, and i stand on it.

[myjjongie]

۶ৎ SWEET, SWEET, SWEET, KISS ── s. jaeyun

IN WHICH: you've never had your first kiss before. who better to help you out with that problem? your lovely boyfriend jake of course!

PAIRING: bf!jake x gf!fem reader GENRE/WARNINGS: fluff, established relationship, skin ship, kissing WORD COUNT: 1.2k ₊⊹♡ EVIE'S NOTE: this was posted way later than i intended, sorry about that :P but here it is whaaat !!?? also yes its lowercase intended i'm sorry i'm crazy </3 and lastly hope yall like it !! <3

it had been a month since you confessed to jake sim. before he became your boyfriend he was your hallway crush. yes, you may have had mutual friends but he was never really your friend. so when the words “i like you too” came out of his mouth it was a shock. well more so a life altering shock. for once a guy you like finally liked you back. there were both pros and cons on the situation.

pro, you were dating someone who actually liked you back. con? you’ve never been in a relationship… so anything that had to do with a relationship was entirely new to you. that meant holding hands, cuddling, dates, long phone calls, and last but not least… kissing. as a college student the mere thought of not only never being in a relationship but also never having your first kiss was mortifying in a way for you. so for the first month of your relationship, you did everything you could to not kiss jake.

in hindsight it was honestly ridiculous. you avoided kissing your boyfriend for a whole month all cause you didn’t know how to kiss to begin with... anytime you felt jake lean in for a kiss you’d find any excuse to get out of it. from turning away to look at something else, letting out a nervous laugh, or even pretending to check a message on your phone. you always felt bad for avoiding it.

but now here you were sitting on jake’s couch in his apartment. his face was leaning in as he was getting ready to kiss you once again. with no hesitation you stopped him before his lips could touch yours.

“oh have you seen that new movie that came out on netflix?! what was it called again?” you laughed nervously trying to move jake’s focus onto something else.

jake was just too observant for his own good. one month into the relationship and he already knew you like the back of his hand.

“yn you’ve been weird lately.” a pout began to form on his face. his brows also furrowed in worry as well.

“i won’t lie. i’ve noticed anytime i try to reach in for a kiss you’re immediately dismissive of me. did i do something wrong?” now his soft pout deepened into a frown. the hurt expression he had pained you. thinking that jake felt he did something wrong made the feeling in your chest tighten up. jake was never in the wrong, it was you for letting your nerves get the better of you.

“no. no! it’s not like that jake. i just…” taking in a deep breath you let out a sigh. you couldn’t let this continue on any longer. it was now or never to tell jake the truth.

“ugh. just. just promise me you won’t laugh…” your voice faltered a bit as you mustered up the power to spill the truth. your eyes looked into his to see his eyes reflect a serious expression.

“of course.”

biting your lip nervously you finally say the words that you hoped to never share. “i’ve never had my first kiss!” your voice came off a bit loud as you spilled out your confession. you closed your eyes not wanting to see the reaction on jake’s face.

it was silent for a moment. then a small stifle of a laugh was heard in the room. jake was laughing. opening your eyes you immediately opened your mouth to speak.

“you said you wouldn’t laugh!” now you were the one with a frown on your face.

“i know i know. i just. i didn’t think you were gonna say that.” jake could barely form the sentence letting a few laughs out.

“babe is that why you were avoiding my kisses all this time? it’s okay if you haven’t had your first kiss yet. did you think i would judge you for it?” his fingers softly grazed your cheek as he gently tucked some hair behind your ear.

“well no. i just…. i didn’t wanna kiss you badly… is all..” your cheeks let off a soft red color at the creeping embarrassment.

“hey now. that’s why i’m here. if you think you were gonna do badly, you have me to practice with.” jake couldn’t help but finish off his words with a cheeky smile.

you roll your eyes slightly whilst giving him a gentle punch to his arm.

“what? i’m being serious. how about we learn now? is that okay with you? i’m not overstepping am i?”

you found it adorable the minute he backtracked on his statement. jake unconsciously wanting to make you feel comfortable and safe made your stomach do flips. he truly was a perfect boyfriend.

“yes jakey that’s fine.” your voice came off more calmer as your nerves slowly subsided.

without anything more to say, jake changed the way you and him sat on the couch. you were both now sitting there, both your faces in front of each other. his arm rested on the back of the couch while his other hand was gently placed on your knee. you sat there with crossed legs slowly feeling nervous again, you fidgeted with your fingers in your lap.

“okay to start off. don’t think too much about the kiss. i promise you it’s easier said then done. when you’re in the moment you won’t be thinking about it. we’re gonna jump right into it so just try pressing your lips onto mine. okay? and don’t be nervous. it’s just me yn.”

still feeling shy you quickly peck jake’s lips. the contact between you two was no more than 2 seconds or even less than that. you looked up to jake to shyly ask “like that?”

your eyes had a gaze of innocence making jake feel slightly flustered.

“fuck… you’re way too cute yn.” jake murmured under his breath. without a second to spare jake’s lips gently brushed against yours. his lips now locking with yours felt different then the quick peck you gave him mere seconds ago. you froze unsure of what to do next, but jake didn’t rush it. his movements were gentle and attentive. his hand cupped your cheek to help tilt your face a bit. the new angle alone helped melt away the nerves in your body. then finally you got the hang of it, following his lead each movement felt more natural as the time went on.

at a certain point jake parted ways from the kiss. he couldn’t help but enjoy the way you breathed in for air afterwards. he desperately wanted to nibble at your lips but knew it would’ve been too much for you in the moment. instead he was now peppering your face with kisses. your cheeks, forehead, and jawline were not left without a kiss to them. your body shivered at the ticklish feeling of jake’s lips kissing along your jawline. finally stopping, he let out a deep sigh admiring your face before speaking.

“see that wasn’t so bad was it?” jake asked out as his thumb gently brushed against your bottom lip.

your face felt heated from all the small kisses jake gave you afterwards. you shook your head in agreement too tongue tied to find the words to speak. jake let out a soft laugh as he eyed you attentively.

“next time can i teach you how to make out?” jake teased as he fluttered his eye lashes flaunting his puppy eyes.

“hmmm we’ll see…” you replied shyly, a small smile making its way onto your lips.

before being able to even think about the future lessons. jake quickly pecked your lips, giving you that big smile that you always adored.

perm taglist ( open! send a ask to be added ) . . . @ikeulove @leehsngs @nickiminajleftasscheek

©myjjongie 2025

[solisthetired]

My take on the dp x dc concept of lady gotham :D. She shifts like clockwork but with time periods instead of age(tho she does slightly shift age as well).

Rant about the drawings past the cut.

So i had wanted to draw lady gotham for a while, but i was struggeling with what kind of outfit i wanted to give her. I ended up with the time period shifting, so that i could give her all of them+ modern time cause that was added later on in the idea. With a base of black hair, red eyes, green skin, a pearl necklace, bat ear pointed hair and gargoyle wings.

The green skin and red eyes are to tie in danny phantom more, since those are a common combo in the show and the one i liked most.

Also the ghost powers she would excels at would be ghostly wail and ecto manipulation (shields and stuff) as a nudge to Dinah Drake-black canary and Alan Scott-green lantern, both operational in gotham before(?) Batman.

Any reference to the bat heroes and villains appeared on her outfits later on.

Also all of what I know about gotham history is according to the dc wiki page on gotham and for the time periods fashion I just looked at pictures from fashion history sites and added my own flair.

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The first time period is 1840 because that is when the foundation for gotham was laid and the whole gothic vibe was chosen.

I tried to make her look more like a standerd ghostly look, cause I felt this would be when she first formed so it was all a little more instinctually ghostly. This is also why her eyes are covered.

In the background you can see part of gotham and wayne manor from high in the sky lit by a cresent moon.

On her outfit you have nightwings and harleys logos, a patch with wheat to refer to scarecrow and a little pointed ruffle to just refer to any batfamily hero.

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Second time period is 1880 for being the time in which gotham came the closed to a personal golden age. the wiki refered to " by the end of the century" and I like the 1880s, so 1880s instead of 1890s.

With this one I tried to give "succesfull bussines woman vibe" but still a hint to the first look with the long messy hair.

The backgrounds a simpler one this time, but with a cool gargoyle and an almost half moon.

This one has red hoods logo on the arm, a vine bracelet for poison ivy, a bird head umbrella for pinguin and again a pointed ruffle for all bats.

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Third time period is 1930s for when gotham got its infamousy as a crime capitol.

With this one I tried to make it a bit more caring type of feel, since that is what i read (and liked) a lot for her personality and I thought that would start in this time period cause she had a lot to worry about for her gothamites.

The background is an alley cause i wanted the batsignal in the last drawing and gotham without an alley felt wrong. The alley is lit by an almost full moon peeking trough the beginning of a smog filled sky.

The references on this one are: red robins logo as a broach, a cat for catwomen, riddlers question mark as a broach, a pointed edge on the fur trimmed cape for all bats and it wasn't meant as a reference at first, i just liked the disign but i forgot him on any other drawing so the shoes are a reference to the joker cause he wears something similar in Batman:the animated series.

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Last time period is just general modern times cause now we have the batfamily. I feel this form was first created when it was just batman but kept shifting with each new robin. Now having settled on Damians robin.

Honestly I struggled with this one and it ended up way more simple then the others but I wanted it to be general formal modern and that is just a really boring look.

Background is just the blimp filled gotham sky with the batsignal lit, cause I love those silly blimps.

In this one I added; Damians robin logo (as cufflinks) and utility belt, the bad side of two-face's coin as a broach, a batman cape and Jasons white streak cause I like the headcanon that Jasons her favorite.

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Now that you looked at the drawings and read my rant, you might notice a few things add up.

Nightwing > red hood > red robin > Damians robin

Cresent moon(+ plus clear sky) > almost half moon(+ little clouds) > almost full moon(+ smog color and some clouds) > full moon(batsignal)(+ just smog)

Really long hair > lower back length > shoulder blade length > long bob

I like ways to connect drawings and these where some I found fun to do.

[dfortrafalgar]

Gentle

Law doesn't like his hands, but a little bird on his shoulder says otherwise.

Warnings: None <3 just a short fluffy drabble

A/N: Going through my google drive means uncovering all of the unfinished request fics... and general unposted fics, of which there are many oopsies ;w; Every time I come back to this blog I forget how to format my posts. But im back on my one piece brainrot bullshit so you'll be seeing more from me again!

Law’s hands were littered with deep scars and rough calluses.  The pads of his lean fingers were hardened, barely there fingerprints left on the pages of his books.  His palms were cold, thick skin keeping the warmth out.  His tattoos only seemed to heighten the poor image of his hands, the black-inked word of “DEATH” spread out on his fingers.  The cold man had no positive feelings regarding his hands.  While they could give life, they also took it away.  His hands caused loss more than they granted the privilege of a heart beat.  Cold as ice and hard as stone.

But you nestled your cheek into his hand like a warm, downy blanket.

You entwined your fingers with his, stroking the side of his hand with your thumb, filling his chest with a tachycardia.  You would always laugh at the way blood rushed to his cheeks.

Your hands guided his own to your body, across your neck, shoulders, down to your collarbones, along your breasts, trailing fleeting patterns down your sides like electric shocks.  Your eyes closed in bliss as he embraced you, mouth parted with a content smile.

One day, Law finally thought to ask you.

“Why do you like my hands so much?”

His voice was more stern than he wanted it to be, but you showed no change in your calm demeanor as you turned your head towards him, a smile growing on your lips.  “You’re always so gentle with me.  Your hands feel so nice.”

Your simple response made Law’s brain brownout.  His eyes widened the tiniest amount, and you covered your mouth with the back of your hand to stifle your laugh.

“Is it really so surprising?” you added.

Law shook his head, snapping out of it.  “No, I suppose not.”

The way his eyebrows furrowed in his ever-permanent pouting expression gave you all the answers you needed.  You stood from your seat and paced your way toward the man, putting a tender hand on his shoulder as you leaned forward to peck a sweet kiss to the side of his scruffy cheek.  

“I know you don’t feel the way I do,” you whispered, reaching your other hand downward to ghost your fingers across the tattoo on the back of his hand that rested on an open journal of notes.  “But I really do love your hands.  They bring life.  They’re warm and gentle.”  Your fingers made their way under Law’s palm, encouraging him to flip his hand over so you could trail the pads of your fingers across his calloused distal palmar.  “They’re also rough, like a fortress.  Like a shelter.  And I love that.”

Law couldn’t see your face from behind him, but he could hear the bright smile you adorned through your tone of voice.

“Never heard of them referred to as a ‘fortress,’” he responded to you, voice low and apprehensive as he watched your fingers dance across his own upturned ones.

“They’re my fortress,” you stated.  “I love when you hold me.”

He simply chuckled.  “You’re too cheesy for your own good.”

You retracted your hand from his, instead wrapping both your arms around his shoulders, leaning your head into his plush hat.  “You love it when I’m cheesy.”

A bubbly laugh finally emerged from his lungs.  “I do.”