#i finished this so i can make a stupid joke

[solarmorrigan]

Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope

cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse

-

The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.

“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.

Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.

“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”

“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.

“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.

Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”

As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”

Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.

Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”

“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”

His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”

“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.

“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.

“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”

“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.

“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”

Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.

“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”

Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.

“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”

“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”

Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”

“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.

Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.

Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.

“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”

Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”

The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”

He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–

Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.

It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.

Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.

(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)

(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”

Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).

“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”

Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.

“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.

“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.

Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.

When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.

“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.

It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.

“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.

“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”

“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”

“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.

“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”

Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”

In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.

He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.

[Prompt: Embracing your partner]

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddiesteve #solar wrote #cw child abuse #referenced but does not take place in the fic #cw panic attack #even if it doesn't look like one at first #soft ending though as always I promise

[on-leatheredwings]

Meeting the Family

based off this! but can be read alone.

Yandere! Fem! Reader / Yandere! Bruce Wayne

> romantic with bruce, platonic with the boys. the boys could be read as pre-yandere if you wish. > tw/cw: reader is a yandere, yandere-typical thought patterns, implied drugging, mention of self-harm, implied drugging > request: thoughts on co-conspirator!reader meeting the boys? > a/n: Hmmmm, i feel it’d be a meeting of interrogation where they see you’re clearly unstable !! > word count: 1.4k

You walk towards the threshold of a Wayne Manor sitting room. You have this hallway nearly memorized. You’ve viewed it through your 24/7 surveillance cameras and glanced upon it during your visits, but never has this hallway seemed so daunting until now. Luckily, your lover is nearby to reassure you. Bruce slips his hand into yours, and you inwardly swoon. You share a warm glance with him.

“They’ll adore you,” he says. You let a smile peek through your anxious expression. “I know I do.” At such sweet words, you feel your cheeks heat. Ugh, this man, you think affectionately.

Your Sunday best is the armor you don to meet Bruce’s children. It seems like you won’t even be able to meet them all – only the ones in town. “They just want to interrogate me,” you whine, letting yourself be pulled towards the impeccably decorated room.

“They just want to get to know you,” Bruce returns, humming. You can’t retort because already, you are in full view of his brood. The three of them look up from their phones and books. You swallow, under the scrutiny of two pairs of blue eyes and one pair of green.

“... Hi,” you say, waving a stupid hand. One smiles in return, thank goodness.

“I’ll just let you all get acquainted,” Bruce says, retreating. You swerve to him, blinking dumbly. That was not the agreement. The agreement was that Bruce moderate the discussion– and he’s gone.

He leaves the sitting room, and leaves you in the lion’s den to fend for yourself. And boy, do the lions pounce. 

The eldest, Dick – he’s positively godsent. He’s the first to shake your hand, immediately going into a friendly babble about how you’re all Bruce ever talks about and how he’s been excited to meet you. And thank God for that, because it manages to ease the tension you still have in your shoulders. He introduces himself and his brothers, melts the ice by teasing them as he does it. He offers you a seat across from them, offers you tea and cookies. He shares an anecdote of Bruce’s less polished moments to make you laugh. 

You soon realize he was a sleeper agent. He was merely buttering you up, lowering your defenses with well-placed platitudes and good-natured jokes.

It’s Tim who begins the true assault.

“So,” Tim begins over a cup of tea, looking upon you owlishly. “Isolation for 10 long years… How was that?” You blink, startled, before smiling weakly. At least no one was treating you like glass. Sometimes, that made you feel even more like a freak.

You try to give him a Sparknotes recollection, but it doesn’t satisfy him. At his badgering, you do relent more details. You are slipping your innermost thoughts without much of a fight, to your surprise. Dick’s empathetic gaze and Tim’s enraptured attention have you spilling dark thoughts it took you months to even tell Bruce… 

It was long. It was traumatic. Mind-altering. You have breakdown after breakdown. Self-harm after self-harm. There is a part of you you can never get back… So, 'how was it?' Why, just awful, thanks for asking!

Dick comforts you with “you’re so strong,” as Tim nods. He seems happy with his findings. It seems like you have piqued his academic interest – you can basically see the gears churning behind his mind, the factoids he’s storing for later. For what, you don’t know, but you’re glad to help. Throat dry, you down the rest of that blasted tea, but the boys aren’t quite finished.

Damian, however, is brutal in his questioning, sparing any of the pleasantries or dithering his brothers employed. He asks rapid fire about your past outside of your years in isolation. What was your childhood like? Your relationship with your parents? Did you ever graduate high school? College? What was your major? Do you like animals? His father houses two dogs, a cat, and a cow – you do know that don’t you? 

“What are your intentions with my father?” At that, you flinch.

“Nothing… nefarious, to be sure,” you say, sweat beginning to bead on your temple. It’s true! Aside from all the dastardly actions you wanted to inflict upon Bruce in the bedroom, nothing nefarious!

“And his other suitors? They don’t bother you?” 

At that, your smile wilts. Not from any offense… you simply don’t enjoy the reminder that others do seek Bruce’s affection. 

“They… don’t worry me,” you say succinctly. Dick doesn’t think you realize how your smile has grown sharp. Damian doesn’t let on whether he approves or disapproves of the answer. And Tim simply watches.

“And my father’s controlling and possessive tendencies? You’re fine with that? What would you do if you caught him in a lie? Or if a woman he was involved with confronted you?”

You gape like a fish. Man, what a character this one was. Damian blinks slow and catlike, before he sniffs. “I’m asking for one of the siblings who couldn’t be here today.”

“Um…” you return, discombobulated. You shoot off your answers as rapid-fire as he posed them. “I haven’t noticed any tendencies. And I can handle myself! If he lied… I’d hear him out. He probably had a good reason, of course.”

“What if it was infidelity?” 

You glare at them. “I’d get rid of her.” Why do they keep bringing up other women? 

At the boys’ silence, you realize your mistake. You wave your hands and bluster, “Not like– not like get rid of her– I would just tell her to… Leave. And I’d be… angry… at Bruce.” God, you don’t feel like you’re doing too well in this interview. You hiccup, filling your cup some more. What is in this tea? Man, it’s delicious.

“... Interesting.” 

“What if Bruce left you out of his own volition?” Tim points out, drawing your attention.

Your head snaps to him and you stare… That possibility had never even crossed your mind.

“He wouldn’t,” you say, confused. At raised eyebrows, you say, “I mean. I-I don’t think he would.” You have faith in Bruce. It’s been five months now, and your relationship has gone swimmingly. You had your insecurities… but Bruce had kissed all your worries away by now. Your fingers dig into the cushion of the couch. 

He wouldn’t leave. He couldn’t. He had already reassured you, and been so kind, and wonderful, and shown you what love was like– he couldn’t just leave you now–

“But what if he did?” and this time, the question comes from Dick, who, if you recall, hadn’t asked a single question yet. He looks serious, unlike his casual air from before.

You keep the desperation out your voice by keeping it chillingly level. “Then I’d convince him otherwise.” Good answer, good answer, you applaud yourself. All the boys nod, looking upon you with varying degrees of interest, curiosity, and understanding.

“Then… I suppose we have just one more question,” Tim says, plucking the kettle of tea out your hands. You pout.

“Thoughts on having children?”

At the question, your brows shoot into your hairline.

“... Are there not enough of you already?” you blurt.

To your relief, they all relax.

-

After that strange encounter, Bruce shows himself and sees you out. The walk outside is quiet. Comfortably quiet on your end. You hope you did good… no, you reassure yourself. Fuck it, you did great.

“So… how were they?” 

You glance at his face, and are surprised to see thinly veiled concern behind his smile. “Did any of them say anything… strange? And… did you like them?” You laugh, before floating up to kiss Bruce between the brows. Flight powers came in handy for stuff like that.

“They were wonderful,” you say cheekily. “Something they clearly get from their father.”

-

bonus!

Bruce re-enters the foyer. He shoots off a text, lamenting. If you hadn’t had him bug his own home, he could’ve spoken to the boys freely. He could’ve had Jason hide nearby, instead of having to listen in on Damian’s phone.

Bruce: Did that satisfy your curiosities?

Several ellipses in bubbles pop up, before his phone rattles with their responses.

Damian: Frankly, she comes off as airheaded and naive, but at least she seems to have some semblance of spine.

Jason: She’s crazy. Didn’t we tell you to stop sticking your dick in crazy

Dick: Well, I think that makes you guys a perfect match!

Tim: bruce i’m sorry, you cannot fix her. however, i would like to study her. and possibly, make her worse

Bruce sighs, albeit smiling. By all accounts, you seem have gotten their general approval.

#yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x yandere reader #yandere reader #mine #platonic batfam for once lol crazyyy #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson

[elisysd]

12. Don't give me up, cause what about, what about angels

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: What About Angels - Birdy

Charles saw you tensing after your mother’s cold greeting. He hated how you flinched as she was reminding you that being late was disrespectful towards your dad’s special day, that being away from home and in a big city had made you lose sight of the values they had taught you. But he hated even more how you simply smiled and apologized. He needed all his self control to not take your side, he knew how anxious this whole situation was making you feel, he didn’t want to make it worse by saying something he knew wouldn’t be well received.

The first thing he noticed in the house’s hall was the amount of family pictures, but instead of four people on them were only three. He recognised your mom, assumed the man beside her was your dad and when he thought he would notice you, it was instead your little brother. He couldn't be wrong, he looked exactly like you. The pictures were cut in a certain way that didn’t take him a long time to understand that you had been cut out of them. He felt a wave of rage hitting him. Why make you come here if your parents had gone to such an extent as to erase every trace of your existence? It was a twisted joke.

“You don’t even call anymore, Y/N. I knew it would happen, I’ve always said that being in a world full of sparks and empty promises would change you. You’re too gullible. You don’t even have time for your own family anymore. Not that you ever had.”

“You’ve never tried to ask questions about my job…” you mumbled as Charles put a comforting hand on your hip.

“I don’t need to. I know exactly what you do, you’re the talk of the town. The small town girl made it to the TV. There is no reason to be proud, playing a pretty face on tv… that is not what I raised you to be. And now you’re associating yourself with fair-weather friends…” she said, darting judgmental eyes on Charles. “I know exactly who you are.”

He didn’t have the time to reply as your dad entered the room and sat on the chair without a word. You sat too, Charles close to you as your mom joined your dad’s side. 

“How nice it is to finally see you alive.” he said, making you gulp.

“I’m Charles, your daughter’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” he introduced himself in a desperate attempt to drive the conversation away from you and the relieved sigh you let out made him think that you appreciated it. 

Lunch was awkward, punctuated with snarky comments here and there that you tried your best to ignore. Charles was trying to do the same but it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his calm. But it was when cake was brought that resentment and unspoken words finally came out in the open. You had taken your phone out of your pocket, wanting to show your parents all the beautiful landscapes you had the chance to witness. 

“Aren’t you ashamed?” your mom muttered.

“Why?” you turned your head to look at her in disbelief.

“Ashamed of following the sport that killed your brother. Ashamed of being with the man responsible for his death.” she sternly said.

You felt like a million daggers stabbing your heart all at once. You took a deep breath, putting your hand on his thigh, squeezing it lightly to indicate to him  not to react. It was something you had to do alone.

“F1 and Charles didn’t kill Luc, it was his leukemia, not anything else.” you replied, feeling a lump in your throat.

“If you had not introduced your brother to that stupid sport, he wouldn’t have been a fan and his illness wouldn't have turned that bad so quickly. He wasn’t talking about anything else than that sport and you. Until his very last breath. His last words were about Formula 1. It took my baby away from me and this is your fault. Both of you.” she finished, turning to Charles this time.

“If I can add something… I know I have no right to comment on this situation but even if I understand your pain, Y/N is not the one to blame. She…” Charles started, quickly shutted up by your dad.

“You’re right, you have no right to say a  thing. You don’t know what it is like to lose a son.”

“Maybe I don’t, yeah. But I know exactly what it feels like to lose a parent. I understand your pain. Truly. But with all due respect, you’ve already lost a son, you should be more careful to not lose a daughter by pushing her away and making her feel like a stranger in her own family.”

“We’ve already lost her the minute she decided to not show up at the funeral.” your mom spitted, making you close your eyes, trying to not cry. You wouldn’t give that pleasure to your parents.

“I think it’s best if we leave. It was a bad idea to come here, anyway.” you ended up saying, standing up, Charles following you. “You shouldn’t have invited me in the first place, if it was to treat me that way.”

You took Charles’ hand in yours and dragged him out of what had been once your safe place. Without a word you made your way to his car and rushed inside and it was only when the door was closed and that he had taken place behind the wheel that you broke down. He didn’t hesitate to pull you on his lap and let you cry on his shoulder, holding you tight.

“It’s okay, babe… you’re okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to feel bad, you have nothing to feel bad about. If you were believing your mom’s lies, I understand why you were so mean to me at the beginning now.”

“She is not entirely wrong, you know.” you sniffed in his neck. “At least about one thing, I should’ve been there for Luc’s funeral. But it was too hard for me. I didn’t want to face the fact that I would never see him again. I didn’t want to make the nightmare I was in real. because if I was going, it would happen exactly that. It would have made the pain real and permanent. I couldn’t.”

You put your forehead against his, trying to find a way to ground you. Charles drew small patterns on your hips, comforting you the best he could. 

“Let’s get some fresh air, okay?” he whispered against your ear.

You got out of the car and hand in hand you started to wander the streets of your childhood, telling him anecdotes and facts of any buildings and streets you were walking on and seeing.

“Tell me about Luc.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Everything. Whatever you want. Whatever you feel comfortable sharing with me.”

“He was passionate. About many things. History and art mostly. He wanted to work in a museum. And passionate about F1 of course. He knew a lot of mechanical stuff, more than I did. He taught me as much as I did, I swear. Maybe more. I was spending my weekends at the hospital with him to watch the races. When he was hospitalized, it was what kept him going. It was our thing, you know. Wait, I think I have a picture to show you.”

She took a photo out of her wallet and gave it to him. If he didn’t know it was a hospital room, he would have had a hard time guessing it. Everywhere were Ferrari and monegasque flags as well as a lot of merch. He was recognising one of his caps on the bedside table. Posters of his podiums were hung on the walls, his Monza’s win right above Luc’s head. Small replicas of his trophies were there too as well as miniatures of his helmets.

“A real fan.” he smiled.

“The best.” you sighed. “ You don’t know how happy he was when you won in Monza. It brought so much joy in his life. Even if it wasn’t for long. It was a tough time, he had just started to get hospitalized, he was very sick and pale and the shell of what he once was. And suddenly, he was feeling a little more alive. Because of you. Then, time went by and I had to leave for New York. It was the toughest decision I had to make in my life. At some point I was ready to take a year off so I could be with him…” 

“What made you change your mind?”

“Him. With time my dream became his. He wouldn’t have forgiven me if I was giving it all up because he was sick. He was talking about how amazing it would be if I was interviewing you. I bet he is the happiest up there.” you smiled, looking up. “One of his dreams was to meet you.”

“Maybe it is not too late?” Charles hesitantly said and you looked at him curiously. “Is he buried here?”

You nodded and he felt you stiffened.

“I've never been on his grave.” you confessed after a moment of silence. “It’s too hard and too painful to go there alone.”

“Good thing you’re not alone anymore, then.”

As you were making your way to the graveyard, Charles had to hold you closer to his chest with each step you were taking. You sobs were getting louder and your legs were shakier. It was breaking his heart, trying to see how much you were trying to keep it together.

When you finally reached the grave, at the back end of the graveyard, you fell on your knees in front of the black grave. Luc hated black. A black and white picture of him was also in the middle of the gravestone. It made you shiver. It was well kept, your parents were coming often. The lump in your throat had not gone away in the slightest, it was even bigger now, making you choke up on your own saliva. Charles wanted to hold you, wanted to get you out of here. The emotional devastation you were in was making him want to join you on the ground and cry with you. But he also knew you needed it. It was the closure you needed to move forward. He took a few steps away, giving you privacy.

“I’m so sorry, Luc. So sorry. Sorry about how I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, sorry to have let you down, sorry to not have stepped up and measured up when I should have, sorry to not have been the sister you deserved. There is not a day that goes by when I don’t regret not being by your side. There are so many things that I should have done differently, so many things that I feel guilty about but none of them compare to how guilty I feel to not have said goodbye. I acted like a coward and I know how much you felt scared about dying. And how I promised you I would hold your hand until the end. I didn’t. I chickened out and I failed you. If I could go back in time, I would, just so I could look into your eyes one last time and hold your hand tight. I wouldn’t hesitate. I would trade anything for one last smile of yours. I hope you can forgive me, I sure can’t do that alone. But despite everything I’m happy and I’m not sure I should be. I fell in love and you would be ecstatic to know who I share my life with. He is supportive and kind and perfect for me. I wish we would have had enough time so you could have met him. But maybe after all, it’s you I should thank. Maybe it’s you who sent Charles on my way. Maybe it is your way of telling me that you are not mad at me. That you want me to be happy. If only you could give me a sign. I just want you to know that everything I do, I do it for you. Because I love you. Forever.”

You felt Charles’ arms around your shoulders as he crouched down beside you.

“Hey, Luc. I know we don’t know each other but your sister talks about you so much that I feel like I already know you. I would have loved to meet you, I know how big of a fan you are of F1. I would have loved to show you around the paddock, maybe I would have let you sit in my car. Anything to make you and your sister smile. You are brave and strong and I have nothing but pure admiration for you. I wish I could have met you. Don’t worry about your sister, I take good care of her and I don’t want to let go of her. I’m here for her for as long as she lets me but I hope it is a forever kind of thing.” he whispered as you looked at him with big and glossy eyes.

He helped you stand up, asked if you were alright and if you wanted to leave. He didn’t mind staying but he wanted to make sure you were alright, the day had been emotionally draining enough. When you nodded, he took you in his arms, engulfing you in his jacket so you weren’t cold and kissed the top of your head as you headed out.

“I’m so proud of you. So proud.” he said as you finally reached his car.

“Thank you. For being there. I don’t think I would have been able to do it alone.”

“You’re the strongest person I know. You would have done it at some point.”

“Did you mean it? What you said up there… About us being forever.” you shyly asked.

“I’m sorry it was not the best time to say it. But to answer you, I do. I’m not kidding, Y/N, I swear I can’t explain it. I don’t know how either but I just know. You’re the love of my life.”

Author's note: In laws meeting incoming... how do you think it will turn out? .

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#charles leclerc 16 #formula 1 #writing #fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x oc #charles leclerc fanfic #cl16 #scuderia ferrari #ferrari #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fic #f1 x reader #cl16 x reader #driver x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc

[sleeplesstories]

Spencer mansion digital painting :)

*Resident evil 1

#resident evil #fanart #spencer mansion #digital art #resident evil 1 #re1 #my art #procreate #digital painting #i finished this so i can make a stupid joke

[foolsocracy]

I can't help but notice you haven't posted any angst in a while and I'm suspicious

whipped this one up just for u anon

#a guy can only post 3 happy artworks before the people get concerned..... #LMAOOO jokes jokes #heres a .. colored sketch? #anyway behold the recurring dream ive given pete where hes ummmmmmmmmmmm inside uncle bens ribcage #i think abt it all the time but ive never actually done anything w it so here we go #blood #gore #not actually i dont think but im straying on the safe side #i messed around w it enough where u cant even see any organs or anything (much) #bones #idk #skeleton #i feel like thats everything maybe #ask to tag #might make a nice finished piece w this who knows #anon #asks #thanks for the ask! #glad to know angst is still my brand #such is life as a noir blog #peter benjamin parker #spiderman noir #spider man noir #spider noir #my art #bOOM thats so many tags #double art night guys who cheered #this and the stupid ass music one LMAOO the range #made this in an hour and a half lets see what i think of it in the morning when i wake up lol

[zimszim]

fucking adore how tianlang-jun was built up to be really intimidating and scary and sort of has this fucked up psychological component to his physical appearance as well as his general mannerisms, but then you find out that hes Just Like That and not like. a genuine evil guy. he was heartbroken and because of that he was like #FuckHumans!!! but could never fully kill his love of humans and humanity. what the fuck. this novel is killing it with characters i swear

#plot is like whatever but the CHARS are so damn good and for what #just finished ch 21!!! is the novel over literally evrrything wrapped up #i don't think there was a loose end to make a full other volume #or is this like. them trying to figure out what the hell is going on with their relationship #svsss #oh does mxtx know bisexual people are a thing like you dont have to be gay shen qingqiu. you can like girls too its whatever #going to sleep and when i wake up i better be isekai'd into this specific novel jus tto bring therapy and bisexuality to all #goodNIGHT! #< if that comment seemed mean IM SORRY it def was not meant to #i was not meant to even be a question like that i know she knows bi ppl exist i was just wondering if she ever had bi ppl in her novels... #but it was late and im stupid when i'm awake anyways #and i always have to make everything a joke </3

[jenna-louise-jamie]

well, now we know where alex got it from.

#so ian has the same “its time to make a terrible pun” attitude after defeating an enemy i see #it was part of alex's spy training #ian wouldn't shut up about the importance of an epic one liner and a good pun #maybe it's inherited and john did the same goddamn thing lmao #the idiot riders and their stupid puns #im just joking i love the puns #alex rider #ian rider #this is from the short story “christmas at gunpoint” btw #if you wanna read it you can find it online or its in the 12th ar book secret weapon #i was rereading it for a fic im writing on ao3 which will hopefully be up either by tomorrow or shortly this weekend! im about halfway #finished writing it #so keep your eyes peeled for that if you're interested!! #alex rider books

[enlichened]

The thing thats consistently bothered me the most in the fallout show is the racism. I would hesitate to recommend it because of that alone. And there was obvious love that the set and prop designers, actors, costume department, and even maybe the writers put into the show! There are themes and characters in fallout that i'm certain would resonate with fans of color!

It KILLS me that so many of the fallout entries are damn well unplayable/watchable in this regard because the writers simply Don't Care how the people in their work are presented. That this like hugely popular world with a lot of worldbuilding and thought behind it does such wrong to so many people, fans and otherwise, that you cannot find any game in the series that does it right or well. It alienates a lot of people who might've been fans just because the majority white creators and fanbase don't give a shit, and I'm sick of it.

it's not enough to say "in the fallout in my head that racism doesn't happen," you actually have to put some things into PRACTICE. Allow space in your head, your games/show, your fan spaces for people of color! notice and say something when you see racism coming from media, yourself, and others!

#like its not AS bad as other fallout media but isnt that the fucking kicker. that its not AS bad #and in fact the games im thinking of that are most egregious in their racism ARE interplay/obsidians games. #bethesda is NOT free from criticism or racism. just look at the elder scrolls. #all of the fallout games have been terrible to different extents to their black characters #the games are TERRIBLY sinophobic. the great war being pinned on china allows for SO much racism in the writing and in fan spaces #but fallout 2 and new vegas specifically have awful and degrading representations of indigenous people. to the point where i wont play 2. #and now this show treating maximus nearly one to one with how star wars writers AND fans treated finn? its not okay #personal / #fallout show #fallout blogging #racism #antiblackness #colonialism #fallout #if not for this i would have thought that the show was GOOD. surprisingly compelling. anti capitalist messaging. but its just. all the time #and this is coming from a white person! i can only listen and imagine how painful it is to play these games or watch the show #and be the butt of the joke every time!!! or the villain or the fool or the one who dies or the nameless entry. #maximus gets to have Some time in the light as a protagonist but for the beginning half of it he's treated SO awfully by the writers #and the latter half does not do enough to make up for it #EDIT: I JUST FINISHED THE SHOW AND THEY FUCKING MADE IT WORSE.... #taking max out and having lucy leave him. for what exactly. why did they have to undermine him and make him look stupid at every opportunit #AND. two of the more major black women being evil capitalists juxtaposed by some white guy who opposes? ......................... #like im glad moldaver was there. i guess. but even she is posed as the villain for the good majority of it and kills innocent people #for no reason and. UGH

[threegunbrainrot]

yall, i uh...

so that pose from tristamp everybody was freaking out about.

i know this is unintentional. i know.

however-

#trigun #spoilers...........? #i. i dont know how to tag this. #i just saw the same pose that everyone on tiktok has been freaking out over here on that damn DUMMY and lost my mind #its such a stupid joke but i cant help it #its like there's a spectrum for that pose and ww has hit two WILDLY different ends of it #tristamp spoilers #trimax spoilers #just gonna put it. to be safe. i guess. even though all it's spoiling is what a freak ww can be #my post #i might delete this later just because of how Ridiculous it is #i hate the way he holds that Thing #i wanna rip it out of his hands and chuck it across the room #it's so cursed and it's one of the best parts of ww. i'd do anything to make it not exist but because it does i love/hate it with a passion #but anyway it's very hilarious that it matches the iconic tristamp pose to a t #if there's a clearer manga pose with that doll somebody lmk cuz i havent finished reading yet

[solradguy]

I can tell there's been an influx of Twitter users to here recently because more people have been pointlessly aggressive in reblog tags from my blog than usual.

#textpost #Swear it's like a friggin contest to see who can be the most obnoxious pedant on here sometimes #I noticed Sidra deactivated after acknowledging the Sol/Ky billboard art mistake and I can only assume- #-people bullied her until she did despite her efforts to make up for the mistake #This site's annoyed me the last few days to be honest. I made a joke in tags the other day about- #-stepping away for a bit and only being able to be contacted via bounty posters but I do need a break #I sign on here and get mad over stupid shit kids are saying in my notes #I'll hop on later once I finish the GGCA 06 & 07 pages but otherwise I'm going to burn time elsewhere for a while #Queue's pretty full so it won't be dead here

[monty-glasses-roxy]

The Ruined pizzaplex is steeped in death and disrepair, it’s almost to the point that when the others are finally Meteor-ed, they don’t even know if they’ll survive escaping the damn place. None of them know, it’s a death trap. I don’t even think some of them expected to live for long after they escaped

But then they do, and they’re in a completely unfamiliar world that’s saturated with life and it’s unlike anything they’ve ever been exposed to before. Fazent always carried that touch of death, yknow? They never knew any different.

But then they claw their way into the light and someone is wrapping a blanket around their shoulders and giving them a bottle of water and asking if they’re ok because they must’ve just been Changed, they look so disoriented, and they don’t know what to do.

But they have each other, they’re *alive* again. The scars will never go away, but they have each other, and they desperately hope that’s enough.

YOU COME INTO MY HOUSE-

Fsdfsdf nah though you're on the right lines with this... may I offer...

The Plex is dead. It's stagnant, forever unchanging and is left to rot like all the other bodies under the floorboards. Those that remain are rotting and hurt, discarded like broken and unwanted toys and abandoned in the ruins of what is the only world, the only home they've ever known.

... But it's not dead.

How can it be? They're still there. They're still alive.

And like a phoenix rising from the ashes, they'll realise that for themselves and start laying the kindle for their fire.

#GFDSDFS #didn't know whether to leave it at a funny joke or try and like. give you something here #what I'm saying here is that my brain is making complicated metaphors for a story it hasn't actually finished cooking yet lmao #i dunno the concept of life and death is probably gonna be pretty crucial here #it's just different to them and it always has been so what makes something dead or alive is... #well I can already think of like. at least four examples off the top of my head where this would be relevant #nah the intricacies and the layers of what I want are all here for the most part so I just gotta like. weave the rest of the story together #with it's characters and their choices and the lives they are leading #I'm spinning in circles on meanings and shit cause my brain is buzzing like a hive of bees over the fucking #LAYERS of a HUGE plot thing that will be part of the major resolution at the end #it's like a god damn wedding cake or I dunno #onions?? #maybe onions given if I do it right it WILL cause some tears lmao #nah though we'll see how this plays out #I'm most likely overcomplicating and at some point I'll just grab the threads and pull the stupid brain knots out for this lmao #but nah what I'm going for IS complicated cause I've never tried an approach like this before so like #it's keeping my brain chugging for realsies #meteors au #pop rox answers

[magnificent-winged-beast]

What are these?

"Misha made a slavery joke. Taliban ones. Rape. Transphobic. Admitted entering in places illegally. Joked ab how kids don't touch him at GK. Said he felt himself become Paul from filming Karla. Joked ab being"

https://twitter.com/Stileshalenski/status/1646663985775751169?s=20

I don't know dude. Ask him?

I suppose that, as many humans that got the indecency of being young and stupid. Or not being in tune with every aspect of other people's experiences in life as if by implying some dumb joke about the awesomeness of the coliseum, and not thinking about you or other modern slaves that could take it personal. He opened his mouth, or use his fingers on the Blue bird and BAM! gave you material to be canceled years in the future. Hurray!

The other thing about touching kids, I think comes from your personal journal.

So go to your favorite nasty blog and cancel him, if it makes you happy.

I'll be here counting the days till the next arrest because drunk and violent behavior, or the news about another ambivalent tattoo the Tall one put on his body. But hey! No worries everything has an excuse for him. That Canon tattoo thing isn't what THEY make you believe, and he did it because he is pure and a very intelligent guy.

So when a tattoo of an swastika appears on his neck, you can believe that is going to be a maize. Or Because it's him we have to accept he did it for the Profound spiritual Buddhist significance.

And if you are asking accountability for my Blorbo. Why don't you explain this from yours...

#This asks... #What the hell should I know what was Misha thinking #And who didn't made an stupid joke that later regret and educate himself to not doing again #And him and me at least do it for the right reasons #To stop being jerks if the matter is sensitive or not stigmatize stupid stereotypes or wrong behavior #Not because IF THEY FIND IT ON MY TWEETER I'LL BE CANCELED #Or worse... I would not look good so everyone can Love me... A LA JARED #I'm not here to make excuses for others #But everyone has a stupid joke that if recorded and found at the right moment to expose you because NOW I DON'T LIKE YOU #A la Kelloggs... Well... Go ahead and hunt away #But include EVERYONE from yourself and the Blorbos you care for #jared paladecki #Yeah this time I'll tag him so everyone knows about this moment on his grown up adult that decided to interact with a random citizen #To make them feel bad and send his flying monkey #Too and finish the job for him

[kashmirichaiwithmehr]

.

#my sister made me watch sinister w her bc we've been watching mostly horror movies throughout the pandemic #(and bollywood movies and kdramas) #(we only got half way through it today so we'll finish the rest tmrw or smthg) #but if yall need to know one thing about me its that i make comments during movies #and tv shows #and theyre stupid yes but people laugh at them ok <333 #anyways at one point #my sister was like omg can u stop and just watch it without saying anything #so i was like :/ fine #and i was SILENT for like 20 mins #AND THEN SHE GOT MAD AT ME BECAUSE I WASNT SAYING ANYTHING OR CRACKING JOKES #PLSSSS #WHY IS SHE LIKE THIS #anyways once i got her permission i rattled off all the jokes i kept in #i felt like chandler in that one episode of friends #mehrtalks

[nocturnal-halcyon]

.

#tw vent #i didnt want to dump this all under the prev post soo #venting that got out of hand but the side hustle culture has ruined my relationship with my art and i am not joking btw #i literally feel like I waste time if i'm making self-indulgent art 'for fun' and not something 'marketable' or 'to sell'. #plus the feeling of it taking too much time to justify doing it. which is objectively stupid lmao. #plus feeling like 'everyone else is soo much better and now Ai is doing it too so whats the fucking point' #sooo anime n video games n books/comics and writing I never post seem much more appealing than literally feeling sick every time I draw #even when I'm having fun I inevitably get this drop when I finish like 'oh... i spent all this time on this and it looks like shit so- #why did i even bother' sorta thing #oh and i hate that sometimes I only want to urge myself to draw so I can post something online. which again. is STUPID. and I KNOW it's dum #but I literally dont know how to stop stressing about it other than deleting all of my art related social media so I have no site to post t

[imthatwannabeauthor]

.

#I should be shot behind the shed for a score like that Jesus Christ #how fucking stupid can you get? #It’s literally open note open book #and I spent all fucking weekend finishing up the notes and making sure I did practice problems #how fucking stupid #Jesus Christ #it’s gonna be my fucking fault when my own future falls apart in my hands because I’m too goddamn stupid to figure out how the fuck to pass #I should get put down #I’m not even joking this is #fuck man #I tried so hard #…. and I still have to go to work after this #god I’m so tired #I’m so so tired #I don’t know how much longer I can balence my dads expectations on my shoulders #I just wanna curl up and die and never have him look at me like that again #if I have to admit a score like that again I think I might do something stupid #fuck #FUCK I hate this

[arminsumi]

THE HORNIEST

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Summary : Horny!Gojo needs you so bad, he's insatiable. A menace.

Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content, it's very horny lol, not proofread, c*mshots and creampies, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, implied drunk sex

Note : lmk if you want more horny gojo lol 👍 reqs open!! anyways lol the title cracks me up. he ain't the strongest he's the horniest :(

Horny!Gojo introduces himself to you in the flirtiest way possible, cooing a sweet and drunk "Who invited the goddess?" into your ear. He's sat on the couch with you, one night at a stupid frat party. Starstruck by you. And your reciprocation made his chest feel fluttery for the first time in years. It also made his dick stand up in his pants.

Horny!Gojo leans into you for the whole night, whispering flirty things and dirty jokes into your ear like his mind is a factory pumping them out. You match his playful energy so well, he says "I think we're made for each other."

Horny!Gojo has his sharp eyes wandering to your thighs, then your shoulders, then your lips as you speak — and he licks his lips to wet them.

Horny!Gojo showers you in compliment after compliment, relishing in your reactions and getting greedier; he needs to get you alone. "Wanna go someplace quieter?" he has to shout over the music to ask you.

Horny!Gojo assures you with cocky confidence, "Yeah, I could make you cum. Aw, don't give me that eyeroll, it's turning me on. I know for a fucking fact I could make you cum. I could make those eyes roll back. I could make your legs shake."

Horny!Gojo squeezes your hand tightly when he leads you upstairs, and giggles with you as the two of you escape into a quiet, empty bedroom. His heart is panging so hard in his chest. His body feels electric. He's so horny it's the only thing he can focus on.

Horny!Gojo whimpers when you crash your lips into his. He starts making out wildly with you like he's a sex-deprived loser. Because he is. A sex-deprived, touch-starved college boy.

Horny!Gojo hits those deep, hard strokes with no breaks just to destroy you. He never lets up. Never stops to have a breather or lets you catch your own breath. "Working up a sweat b—abyyy? Too much dick stuffing your little cunt? Yeah? Is it too much? Too big? Too deep? Fuck, you're gonna squeeze my dick off, haha, calm down. It's just a little dirty talk."

Horny!Gojo murmurs into your ear, "All I wanna do is make you finish over and over again." desperation and conviction in his voice. He really just wanted to fuck you into bliss, have you dumb on his fat cock, have you squirming and whimpering and going feral for him.

Horny!Gojo pins you down like a beast but also pounds into you like he's the bitch in heat. "Oh my god oh my god yes yes yes fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckkkk that pussy's so fuckin' gooooodddd" he's a mess, just swearing and moaning like a broken record.

Horny!Gojo almost sobs your name into your mouth when he cums, draining every drop of cum that he's worked up for you in the past hour.

Horny!Gojo turns his creampies into whipped cream with his thrusts, smacking his hips so hard into you that you feel his balls slap against your ass. They're so heavy and full, makes you think that if you weren't on birth control you'd definitely get knocked up with just one of his fat nuts.

Horny!Gojo goes round after round, becoming a melting sweaty mess of a man and feeling his muscles tire out. He pins you to the bed with his whole weight, and gives you his all just to show off a little.

Horny!Gojo has such a strained but enthusiastic voice after fucking you into next year with his dick. "Wow... that pussy's so fucking creamy." he grins toothily. A sweat drop beads off his cheek. His bangs are stuck messily to his forehead, some brushed to the side.

Horny!Gojo is insatiable, he calls you long after the party, over and over, shows up at your door and relishes in how his horniness rubs off on you. He's always a giggly mess in bed with you.

Horny!Gojo needs you so bad some days that he comes to you straight after his workout at the gym, no shower just sweaty gym boy abs, and fucks you as a way to "push his limits" for like three hours.

Horny!Gojo needs to cum everywhere he can. It's like he has a cumshot checklist. Thighs? Yes. Tummy? Yes. Ass? Yes. Chest? Yes. Face? Yes. Pussylips? Yes. Hands? Yes. In your panties? Yes.

Horny!Gojo is so fucking cute when he kisses you after sex, nuzzling your neck like a cat and telling you how good you treat him with that five star pussy.

Horny!Gojo jerks himself alone when you can't come over :( always to you, of course. Sexts like a menace. He's a bit too good at it.

Horny!Gojo gets so pussy drunk sometimes that he begs you to become his wife. His dick feels so raw and sensitive but he keeps squeezing it into that tight hole of yours.

Horny!Gojo is obsessed with you, mind body and soul. Just the sight of you and sound of you makes his dick stand up. And then he's whisking you off your feet and frantically throwing you onto the bed, and you're giggling at your horny boyfriend— oh... when did that happen? Hm. Well now he's your boyfriend.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

#smut #mdni #gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo x fem reader smut #gojo x fem reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo saturo #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader