#[ ooc divider ]

[theandrosaur]

Zane got all the brain cells except none of the ninjas escape the buffoonery. Not even him.

+Cole wears You-know-who's shirt.

[moon-blanket]

A silly little Blurb about early Freelancer and Gavin :)

[Read on ao3]

Gavin was not made for mornings like this.

He was made for the darkness of night. Neon lights of dingy bars, hidden corners of alleyways, and messy, heated nights in pitch black bedrooms. Quick fixes to scratch the itches of mortals, easy supplements of emotion he needs to survive another night– always a means to an end.

Sure, the awkward morning-after was a custom he was more than familiar with. Sneaking out before his bedmate of the hour ever woke up had become a well-practiced art by now. Sometimes he even had the uncomfortable pleasure of seeing them off for the day, parting ways as he begins looking for another meal. Another way to get by.

It's never been anything like today.

The Freelancer sleeps peacefully at his side. It's their first true day off in what has felt like the eons they've had this routine together. With no work or classes to scramble off to today, they've given themself the gift of sleeping in.

It's a shame that he couldn't partake as well, but in this moment he can't find the means to care.

They've twisted themselves into a position that he thinks cannot possibly be comfortable. Half on their stomach, half on their back– facing him with the most serene expression he's ever had the pleasure of witnessing grace their face.

They're beautiful like this.

His eyes follow the outline of the parts of their body left exposed by the covers they've neglected in their sleep. The rise and fall of their back as they slowly breathe, the dark spots that bloom across their skin from their late night tryst, their hair wildly splayed against their pillow and draping delicately in their face.

Sunlight streams through the window, the morning light hits their frame so perfectly, the curves and angles of their body practically glowing in the warmth of the sun. He thinks he finally understands the meaning of true worship.

Gavin does not know much of human religion, not enough to know who to properly thank– but he will gladly give the proper kudos to every god, every sovereign in the stars, that guided him to his Freelancer.

His Freelancer...

There's a pang in his chest he's unfamiliar with when the thought passes through his mind. It's a little frightening.

He doesn't know how long he stays there and admires them. Eventually he watches as their body awakens, their eyes open to reveal the prettiest color he's ever seen.

When they gain their bearings, recognizing his form as he lays beside them, they flash a sleepy smile as another pang courses through his non-existent heart. One that he begins to welcome as they move to cuddle into him.

He's starting to believe that he could learn to love mornings as long as His Freelancer is beside him.

Thank you for reading. :3

[sunshowerwriting]

making nakedtoaster and you a matching bracelet

toaster isnt the most jewelry wearing person. however, that doesnt mean they wouldnt appreciate your thoughtfulness, and because its coming from you he would absolutely wear it. its odd that toaster isnt much of a jewelry person, it certainly looks good on them. you clearly know that, but this little bracelet was more about the feelings behind it than adding to his wardrobe.

a beautiful, hand made threaded bracelet looks perfect adorning toasters wrist, but the thing thats most important to them is that now whenever youre apart, you both have something to remind yourselves of each other. they love having a reminder of you when youre apart. and they also admire your craftsmanship, the bracelet is beautifully crafted.

for: @zurilurii

[godblooded]

just an fyi, and it feels like it needs to be said here: your blog is your own space and you should be able to say whatever the fuck you want. if you’re sad? vent. get sad. maybe put it under a cut, definitely tag it, but get sad. if you feel like you need someone to talk to? drop a freaking message about how you’re feeling like you could use a buddy, or anything randomly engaging. if you’re having a hard time, you should feel safe and okay to talk about it in your own space. we’re writers and we’re people and while there’s a lot to be said for how engagement outside of oneself is necessary in rp (and really really needs to improve), i think there’s a lot that must be said about people reaching out to others. it’s become so solitary here — the whole ‘reblog from source’ thing when it comes to shit like about and musings is absurd. the whole refusing to like things is ridiculous. yes, curate your space, that’s important, but curating your space into a studio apartment only you live in doesn’t make this a community anymore, it makes it a studio apartment you live in.

just be yourself here. do whatever you want. but i’m always saying: remember you’re not alone, and don’t let yourself feel that way.

[clowningaroundmars]

morales twins vigilantes: getting found out pt 2

okayyyy this part's a slight bit longer but hopefully, uh, worth it lol

kinda made myself tear up a lil at the end ahahaha

also pls don't ask when this takes place, like either in between istv and atsv or atsv and btsv.... idk bro LMFAO this is technically a whole other au in and of itself soooo yuh

disclaimer: i'm a whole ass anarchist, however miles and milo are two teenage boys who've grown up with a cop dad and they play a lil lip service to the police force during their big speech so... yeah i don't support the existence of the police force, but it is what it is. characters don't reflect author's beliefs and all that

>1st part here<

Jeff happened to be lucky enough to be pardoned for the rest of the night, and he also opted to use some PTO on this very very important occasion, so he sped off in the squad car with his sons in the back immediately after visiting the police department and signing off on some papers. He did not utter a word until they all got back home safely.

In the car, it was eerily silent as Jeff fumed in the front. Miles practiced what he was going to say over and over in his head, picking at his suit and avoiding his twin brother’s eyes. Milo held what remained of his mask in his hands, gauntlets off and tucked between his feet on the floor of the car. They both hung their heads low, counting down the minutes until they got back home and had to face their inevitable death sentence.

They were in so much trouble. Yikes. This was exactly what Miles dreaded for so damn long now, and it almost felt like a dream the way it happened so quickly.

Back home, both boys were sat down in the dining room area behind the couch, waiting for their mother to come back from her night shift. Milo was given an ice pack for his head and some painkillers, and then they were both sternly ordered to take off their respective suits.

Miles turned inquisitive eyes towards his dad.

“If your mom comes in and sees you two wearing those outfits right after work, that woman will have a heart attack and faint. Take ‘em off,” was Jeff’s sharp explanation.

They were not gonna argue with that. To the bedroom they both went.

“And then you both come right back out the second you change, got it?”

“Yeah dad, got it,” was Miles’ unenthused mumble before closing the door.

Miles turned back around with his mask in his hands, and immediately threw it at Milo.

“What were you thinking?!?!” he hissed, arms flying up into the air, making grabbing motions at his twin brother’s neck. “You absolute idiot, my god, we are so. Freaking. Dead!!”

Milo ducked back, scowling. “Me?!” he hissed back, keeping his voice at a harsh whisper as well. “What did you want me to do, pendejo, just let our dad fry, just like that? I didn’t see you moving to stop the guy!”

They were both snapping at each other, hands flying everywhere as they argued in harsh tones and whispers. They only stopped when they heard a loud knock on the door.

“Don’t take all night, either,” came their father’s booming voice from behind the wood.

Miles hung his head. Milo rolled his eyes and moved towards the closet, ripping his jacket off and kicking off his shoes. “Yes dad,” they both intoned at the same time.

A few glares were exchanged as clothes were tossed onto the floor, and Miles sighed loudly as he pulled on a pair of pajama pants, throwing himself onto his bed to get them up his legs all at once. He glanced at his bedside alarm clock, knowing his mom would be home any minute now. He felt his heart beat in his chest much louder and faster than usual.

Milo pulled on a hoodie over his head, gingerly easing the fabric over his bruised chest.

“Did the blast hit your chest too, man?” Miles asked quietly, eyes playing over the mess of a bruise over slightly-scarred skin, wincing a bit.

Milo exhaled sharply. “Shuddup.”

Miles frowned. “You have to let mom know about that soon. Don’t ‘shuddup’ me.”

“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

Miles knew his brother was sulking, but that really looked… bad. If he was responsible for not only dragging his brother into vigilantism, but also putting him in the hospital as well, he had no idea how he was getting out of this one alive. He was probably never going to see the light of day until college. Maybe not even then.

Once ready, both boys stood side-by-side in front of the door, hesitating. They both glanced at each other, then back at the door.

This was it, they both thought. The moment of truth. This was the night where it was all gonna go down, and their painstakingly-kept secret would finally be revealed to their parents. D-day. My god. He didn’t even know if the speech he prepared in the car on the way home was even gonna suffice against their mother’s explosive anger. She was gonna have a cow the second Jeff told her. Damnit.

Guess I can kiss the whole Spider-man thing goodbye, Miles thought, the very idea leaving a very heavy weight in his chest that he just couldn’t ignore. He leaned forward to turn the knob and swing open the door. With one last glance back at his brother, he stepped out. Then his brother followed him slowly, ice pack pressed to the side of his head again.

It was like a funeral procession the way they marched solemnly back to their chairs placed side-by-side by the table. Jeff leaned on the doorway to the hallway with his arms crossed sternly over his chest, still in his police uniform, hat already hung up.

As if on cue, Rio’s keys jangled against the door, and she stepped inside once the lock clicked open. Her slightly tired expression changed in an instant once she hung up her bag and walked into the apartment.

“Hello boys, I’m home!” She announced, a bit surprised. Not only were her husband and two sons all home at the same time, but they were all hanging around to watch her come home after work at such a late hour. Granted, it was summertime and the weekend, but still. Weird.

Jeff had texted her that something important came up and that she needed to be home ASAP, but didn’t elaborate further. She didn’t know what to expect when she got back. She crossed her fingers and hoped that it wasn’t that bad, if her husband texted her instead of calling. If it was an emergency, surely he would’ve called.

Right?

Her eyes widened once she saw the ice pack Milo held against his head, and quickly made her way over to him.

“Qué pasó?” She kneeled next to her boy, checking him over quickly.

Milo winced and tried to dodge his mother’s hands, holding a protective arm over his chest that no one missed. “Ma, stop. I’m fine, seriously. It’s… it’s fine.”

“Is it? What is going on, why is everyone so… so sad right now, and what are you two doing sitting here like this? Jeff…?” She turned to face her husband but he was already making his way back to the boys’ bedroom, scooping up their respective vigilante costumes and heading back out with the incriminating evidence in both hands.

Once he got back to the table, he tossed them onto the surface and crossed his arms again.

For a second, no one moved. The whole world held its breath for one precious moment.

Then, with deadly calm in her tone, Rio slowly stood up and placed her hands on her hips. “...What are those things?”

Both boys braced for impact.

“Well?”

Miles swallowed hard, hands gripped together tightly. “Uhm. They’re. They’re… our outfits. Y’know… for fighting crime.”

Rio gaped at her sons.

“He’s Spider-man, mom. Miles is Spider-man,” Milo clarified solemnly. His chin was at his chest now, avoiding eye contact with his mother.

“...And you’re the Prowler.” Rio finished.

She took a step back and exhaled, running her hands through her hair and rubbing her face. “Oh… oh my god. Dios mió, me voy a morir. I knew it, but still... me voy a morir!” ¹

Finally, Jeff spoke up behind her. “They’re not Halloween costumes, either. Guess where I found ‘em tonight?”

With tears in her eyes, Rio looked back at her husband, a pleading look on her face. “Don’t tell me,” she begged. But Jeff continued anyways.

“I took tonight’s shift on as a bit of extra, and when I was called to take care of an electric freak close to downtown, I found these two at the scene already.”

Finally, Rio exploded. “What?!?”

The twins flinched.

Jeff exhaled and pressed on, licking his lips. “Yeah, and not only that, but Milo here took on a direct blast of electricity to the face. He jumped in front of me and put himself in harm’s way!”

Scandalized, Milo leaped up from his seat, wincing only a little bit. “Wait a minute, I did it to protect you! That’s my job!”

The anger fizzled out immediately once both parents swung their withering glares around back to him, rage hot enough to almost burn two holes into his skull. Miles pulled Milo’s hoodie sleeve and quietly hissed, “stop making it worse!”

Milo clammed up and quickly sat back down, pouting.

“Your job?” Rio shot back incredulously, laughing angrily.

“That is not your job, Milo! That is mine! My job! I wear this badge every single day so that I can protect the people of Brooklyn. You are a kid with homework and chores to do, not fighting dangerous bad guys on the streets like some kinda—” Jeff worked himself up but then stopped, as if he suddenly ran out of steam. He placed his hands over his head, clearly stressed, and exhaled loudly.

“How long?” Rio’s tone was sharp.

They were definitely not getting out of this alive. Damn. Rest in power, Morales twins.

Miles shuffled his feet, hesitating. “Uhm—”

“Speak up, Miles. How long have you two been running around behind our backs and lying to us like this? Huh?”

Miles sighed. “I, uhm. We’ve been doing this… for a while now.”

“A while?”

“…A -a year.”

“A YEAR?!”

“I mean I’unno about Miles, but I’ve only been doin’ this for like a couple months, so…” Milo mumbled half-heartedly beside his brother. That comment earned him another set of glares, including one from Miles.

“A year. A year! A year, that’s how long you’ve been lying to us?” Jeff was pacing now, clearly stressed out. He was mumbling things under his breath that both boys would rather not know anything about.

Miles jumped up from his seat, seizing the opportunity when he could. “Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait, guys. Mom, dad. Listen to me, please,” he begged, hands splayed out in front of him.

He took a breath. He opened his mouth.

“Until college.” Rio interrupted, holding a finger up. “Both of you. Grounded! Until college! You will both be adults before you ever go out without my permission ever again!”

Miles deflated. “O-kay but mom, please! Hear me out first!”

Rio held a hand up. “I don’t wanna hear it! I cannot believe that both of my sons would lie to me like this! For an entire year, no less! Dios, dame paciencia, coño!” ² She shook her head as she held her face in her hands. “Do you two know what you’re doing to me? Look at me, I’m getting grey hairs as we speak!”

Jeff immediately took her side. “Do you realize what you’re doing to your mother? You’re killing her! And you--” he rounded on Milo all of a sudden, jolting the poor boy into sitting up straight. “You are killing me! You’re going around wearing those godforsaken gloves around, punching bad guys just cuz you wanna feel like a big man, huh? Do you know what that does to me?!”

Milo visibly prickled up, hunching in on himself. “I’m not doing it for me,” he bit out angrily.

“Then for who, huh?”

“I wanted to save the little guys on the street... when the cops couldn’t. I wanted to help Miles.” Milo sounded tired, and for a split second he looked much older beyond his years. Both of his parents softened for only a fraction of a second before Jeff rubbed his eyes and turned back to Miles.

"And who made you Spider-man all of a sudden? What happened a year ago? Tell me the truth. I don't want any detail left out!"

Ah, interrogation mode already, Miles thought humorlessly.

He sighed and dutifully got started on the whole backstory, careful to leave out the fact that he was with Aaron the moment he got shot, skipping to the part where he "found" his uncle's nearly lifeless body in that alleyway that fateful day. It was a harmless enough lie… Miles presumed. Right?

"Did you… then... h-how did you see who shot Aaron, Miles? Were you there?" Jeff asked quietly, also looking as tired as Milo did. Miles paused, not expecting the question.

Rio shot him a look. "Jeff, mi amor, please. Now is really not the time." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Right now, we have to talk about this... this... situation we have going on here. What's next?"

Miles shrugged, palms facing forward as if to say and the rest is history. "I'm... pretty sure you guys know the rest. Dad... you were uh, there. At the collider. I stopped Kingpin and then I just. Well, yeah. Y'all have already watched all of the news stories and the videos. So," he finished lamely.

Then, a surge of confidence as he looked at the concerned expressions dawning on his parents' faces. It's now or never.

"...B-but I love being Spider-man! Dad, you've seen me out there, the way I fight, the fact that you guys have less to deal with cuz I'm out there kicking ass!"

Oops. Wrong words.

Miles' confidence deflated as soon as those concerned and sympathetic looks turned into ones of anger.

"Kicking ass?! More like getting your ass kicked, little boy! How many NewTube videos are out there of you getting crushed by cars," Jeff started to count off of his fingers, "hit by buses, tossed in the air, punched and flung halfway across the block--"

"Jeff, please!" Rio cried, wobbling a bit. She pulled out the chair closest to her from the table and slumped down into it, rubbing at her temples.

"S-sorry, hon..." Jeff placed an apologetic hand on his wife's shoulder.

Rio sighed deeply.

"I get it. I know. But dad..." Miles steeled himself this time. "When you put on that badge every single day and you go out into those streets to protect the city, you think you're never gonna get shot at? Jumped? It is literally your responsibility to put yourself in the way of danger so no one else has to." He turns to the table and grabs his mask.

"For me," Miles continues, "this is my badge. Okay? I put this on every single day and swing out into the streets so people can shoot at me, or ask me for directions, or wait for me to get weird guys in stupid costumes away from the train tracks. I do this every single day, because if I don't, who will? Peter is dead--" ...wow, that feels weird to say.

"Miles..." Rio's big brown eyes gaze sadly at her boy, standing tall with this awful mask in his hand. A mask that she desperately wished wasn't his.

"Mom. Peter is dead. He is. Okay? If I don't step up and take his place, knowing what I can do? Then I might as well not even be alive at all." He tosses his mask dramatically back onto the table to punctuate his point. "I can shoot webs from my wrists and I have strength like y'all wouldn't believe. I can stick to walls and do everything that Peter Parker was able to do before he passed away. If I just sit here doing nothing with these abilities while everyone struggles to live their lives every single day, letting bad guys with superpowers do whatever they want, then what's the point of anything? The exact same reason why I put on this suit to go fight crime is the exact same reason why you do, dad." Miles turns to his father now. "You have your suit, I have mine."

Milo jumps in, enthused. "And the reason why I put on my mask is because of him. And the civilians, too... of course. But it's not because I 'wanna feel like a big man', dad. It's because it drives me crazy seeing my own brother taking on all of this responsibility on his shoulders all by himself. Miles is gonna do crazy things now that he got bit by a super-spider, right? We literally cannot stop him, even if we tried. Trust me. Might as well go along with him and support him so he doesn't get himself killed out there. That's why I do this. Every single day."

Jeff opens his mouth to say something, but is then cut off by Rio's own small, sad voice. "... Why does it have to be you two?" She asks quietly.

She looks so small sitting there on their wooden dining room chair, and a million times more tired than when she came in through the door. She wasn't even out of her own nurse's uniform yet, either. Miles felt a pang of sympathy for her.

Miles... did not know the answer to her question either. He really didn't. Why was it him-- out of all of the people in Brooklyn-- that got bit by that spider? Clearly, the universe had a grand, elaborate joke planned for him. That was really probably the only explanation for it all. But, no. No, there had to be something else in the cards for Miles. After all, he was bitten by the spider while out with his uncle who was secretly the Prowler, and he was present for not only Peter Parker's death, but that same uncle as well.

He squared his shoulders. And then told the truth.

"I... don't know," he admitted. "But... I do know this. Growing up, I always knew Spider-man was there to answer the call no matter what. He didn't pick this life of battling bad guys that wanna tear the city up all the time, a spider bit him, too. But he made me promise something before he died, and I have to live up to that promise. What else am I gonna do when I'm able to pick up cars with my bare hands?"

Granted, it was only a promise to stop the collider from opening a black hole inside of the city they lived in, but. Details. Anyways...

Rio hid her face in her hands again.

Miles softened his tone, sitting down. "This is something I worked really, really hard for and it's important to me. Milo... is kinda right. You can ground me. Until college. Or whenever. But as long as I've got these powers," he held his hands open, propping his elbows on his knees and meeting his mom's eyes, "and there's people out there that need saving? I gotta do what I gotta do, mami."

Milo leaned forward, too. "Yeah. Same here. He's not alone. The same reason we do this stuff is cuz... ever since we were little, we also watched you guys answer the call, no matter what. I never met Spider-man, before... y'know, but it doesn't matter. We do this for New York City."

Neither of their parents spoke for a bit, digesting all of this information in solemn silence. The anger from earlier all but melted away as they ruminated over all of this. All this time, their little boy was running around in a spandex costume, swinging around, punching bad guys and lifting fallen buildings off of people. There was... a hint of pride underneath all of the fear and anger and betrayal and anxiety, even Rio couldn't lie.

But god, how would things ever be the same again after knowing that the very hero who swung from building to building and knocked villains down before webbing them up was the very same boy with the brightest brown eyes they've ever seen; the boy who brought home A's on his test like he won a medal, the same boy who sang horribly off-key while doodling all over his sketchbook, who refused to tie his shoelaces and drove Jeff up the wall when he found graffiti and stickers all around the city in Miles' name? It was impossible... Rio's heart broke into two pieces.

And Milo... a tougher counterpart to her little ray of sunshine, but just as sweet. The same boy who would feed stray cats on the block, beam like a ray of light after winning a boxing match against a tough opponent, who would hide behind Rio at parties and join her happily to watch the latest episode of the new telenovela they both got hooked on... that same boy was wearing those gloves, swinging around the city looking like a bad guy himself. Rio's shattered heart gained another huge crack before finally breaking into three pieces.

Finally, she sighed again.

"You have superpowers?" She asked, hesitantly.

"... I... yeah, I do." Miles answered, fearing that this was a trick question.

Rio nodded sadly. "Of course. Of course..."

Jeff spoke up, now kneeling beside his wife, caressing her hand clasped in between both of his. "Just because you have superpowers, doesn't mean you're invincible. Miles, we do this because we care about you. Maybe we won't be able to stop either of you from putting yourself in harm's way... I mean, hell, nobody can stop me. But... god, isn't there any other way?"

Miles raised a brow. "Any other way to...?"

Jeff blew out a breath. "I-I dunno, can't you use your super strength to... well, maybe help the transportation department move some tracks around, build some new stations... that'd help the city. Swing around and deliver medicine to people for free? God, I don't know. I just don't want either of you to jump in front of bullets for other people... man..." he shook his head.

Miles and Milo exchanged glances. "I... I know it's tough to accept this," Miles started, unsure of what to say. "Maybe I can scale back the dangerous stuff some but... I... can't just stand around directing traffic when someone's getting mugged. Or a bank is getting robbed. Dad, I just can't. Maybe you guys will hate it every time I put the suit on and swing outside but... I can't give this up now. I'm sorry." He dipped his head apologetically.

Another long stretch of silence.

A clock ticks on the wall in the kitchen, and the ice maker in the fridge starts humming again. It's all so painfully domestic, painfully ordinary, it's almost an insult to the people living in this apartment facing these serious revelations all at the same time. It sure is a sharp contrast to the solemn mood settling all over everyone right now.

Rio looks deeply into Miles' eyes, then Milo's. After a while, she turns to face Jeff. "Jeff. You will not like what I'm about to say."

Jeff returns her look with one of confusion. "Honey..."

Rio shrugs, a small gesture but one that makes Miles and Milo's hearts skip a beat. "Mi vida, these are our boys. They have... this big responsibility now, to the people here in this city. Just like you. Just like me," she swallows and continues. "You and me? We've seen what Miles is capable of. Well, the both of them. And as much as it hurts, it would probably hurt even more if we kept them both back from being the heroes they need to be. What we need to do now is... we need to support them. We love them. They need us. We need them! Qué más puedo decir?" ³

Jeff looked deeply into his wife's eyes and then inhaled deeply. Not quite a sigh. That was maybe a good sign?

He stands up.

"...Boys."

The twins took their cue. They both stood up, too. Milo quickly discards his ice pack on his chair. Rio joins them, leaning on Jeff for support.

"When police officers get sworn in, they usually just have to do paperwork nowadays. Not too much of the whole bells and whistles due to high turnover rates, but tonight... if either of you want to continue to fight crime in this city, you both have to put your right hand up. Right now."

Miles could cry. Milo bit his lip to try and hide his grin, and they both dutifully raised their right hands at the same time. Jeff does the same, and reaches his left hand out to take Miles'. Rio takes Milo's.

"Pretend we are the Bible. Not paperwork. The Bible."

Both boys nod with all the seriousness they could manage, looking their father in the eyes.

"Do you solemnly swear on your mother and father's life that you will uphold the law and do right by the citizens of Brooklyn, New York, so help you God?"

"I mean... the law law? Cuz sometimes we--" Milo started, immediately earning an elbow to the side. He shut up.

"Yes, the law. I will not be having the DA of New York City up in my home lookin' for you two in case anyone gets badly hurt. I don't want him in my office, either." Jeff gives them both a look.

Miles pipes up. "Yes, we swear, so help us God."

"Milo?"

Milo nods emphatically. "Yes, I swear, so help me God."

Jeff nods once.

"Mijos. You will both be allowed to go and fight crime outside, con mi bendiciones. But. But... you will both also do it under two conditions. If either of you break my rules, you will have wished that spider never bit you," Rio glared at Miles. Then to Milo, "and you will have wished you never stole your uncle's gloves from his apartment. Got it?"

Both boys nodded, still holding onto their parents' hands.

"So, my two rules are this. Only two. Easy to remember, okay? Number one. Milo, you will take care of your brother as best as you can. Miles, you will take care of Milo as best as you can. Both of you will always be seen together when going out and doing hero things, do you understand?"

"Yes, mamí" the boys say simultaneously.

"Never, ever go out alone, ever. Neither of you will be alone for even a second, especially during the nighttime. Promise me this."

Miles puts his right hand down to take his mother's other hand in his. "Yes, mom. I promise. We both promise."

Rio bows her head. "...And as for my second rule."

"Do we have to have a curfew?" Milo asks quietly. Everyone shoots him a look again.

"No, no curfew." Before the boys could get excited, she quickly adds, "except for on school nights." They both calm back down.

"Your education is always, always more important. Don't forget this," she lets go of their hands to hold up a finger. "But as for my second rule? No more secrets between us. All of us. Okay? You tell me exactly when it is you leave to go and do what you need to do, and exactly when you come back. Promise me this, too."

This time, it was Miles' turn to start saying something dumb. "I meaann, like every single time? Cuz sometimes it's not really a one-and-done kinda thing, like a shift or--"

Everyone glares at Miles. Miles promptly shuts up.

"...Sí, mamí. Te prometemos todo eso." ⁴ Milo answers seriously.

Rio sucks in a breath. "Okay. Okay..."

She looks as if she's about to burst into tears, so everyone draws in tightly for a group hug. Rio sniffles against Milo's shoulder and Jeff leans his chin on Mile's head. Miles laughs wetly.

"Geez, y'all are crying? Man, for what? Ain't nobody dying or anything..." Milo interjects suddenly, causing the whole mood to dissipate all at once. Everyone laughs incredulously.

"Boy, if you don't know how to read a room..." Jeff starts, a warning tone laced into his playful grin.

"Man, I was just trying to lighten the mood! Damn, I mean shouldn't we be celebrating? Miles literally has super strength, you guys. Like c'mon, right? That is literally the coolest thing in the whole world!"

Rio groans, tossing her head back. "Mira esté, 'coolest thing in the whole world'... déjame agarrarte, maldito cabron..." ⁵ she mutters sarcastically, moving to grab at Milo's neck in the exact same way Miles did not even an hour earlier. He playfully dodged out of the way, putting his arms up to block, out of habit.

"Cabron?! Mom, you're so mean!" Milo complained.

"C'mere!"

Jeff leans in and interrupts their banter. "Milo. Son. You have to sit with me on the couch now, cuz we have to have a little chat about how you got your hands on those gloves, actually..." He grabs at one of Milo's arms, his smile just a tad bit too wide. Milo gulps.

Jeff continues, steering them both away from Miles and Rio. "And we also have to talk a bit about the history behind those things, too..."

Rio turns to Miles and cups his cheeks in her hands, looking into his eyes. "Do you actually, actually swear to me that you will try your hardest to stay safe?"

"Yes, mom, I do! We said it like a hundred times."

"Your father was right. Just because you have super strength now--"

"And super-healing."

Rio stares at him for a beat.

Miles squirms nervously. "...What? I do!"

"Super-healing, sure. Uh huh. If I catch you with bullet holes inside of you, I am not taking you to the ER then, Mr. Invincible."

"Ouch. Harsh."

"I warned you! I'm smiling like I'm joking but I'm really not!"

"Okay, okay, geez. C'mon, ma. It's really not that big of a deal. I don't get shot at as much as you'd think! Seriously! I'm fast. And... and I've been doing this for a while now. You have to trust me, okay?"

Rio sobered up. "I know. I know. I just... mi amor, I am your mother. I worry about you. You know... I've been taking care of my two little boys for so many years now. I just... I care about the both of you even when you two drive me completamente loca! I trust that you can both handle yourselves, I really do. It's just hard. It is. I-it'll... take some time to get used to."

Miles nodded. "Growing up is tough. I get it."

Rio smacked him on the shoulder.

"Ow! What, it's true! We're all growing up right now, I'm not a little kid anymore and... and you're not the mom of two little kids now. It's just... it's a transitional period! Life's tough!" Miles shrugs, smiling warmly.

Rio smirked, crossing her arms. "Uh huh. It sure is."

Then, she opened her arms for another hug from Miles, which he happily returned.

"I mean it, Miles. Whatever happens, I want you to keep yourselves safe. And ask for help. Papí, your father is a police officer. And whatever you need, whatever you need... I'm here, too."

Miles beamed at his mother with tears in his eyes.

"I know, mom. Thank you."

☆ translations:

¹ "my god, i'm going to die."

² "god, grant me patience, fuck!"

³ "what more can i say?"

⁴ "yes, mom. we promise you all of that."

⁵ "Lookit this guy, 'coolest thing in the whole world'... lemme get my hands on you, fucking bastard..."

[thefreelanceangel]

Annalei d'Latu:

C'allie Kyho:

Summer Bellmayne:

Solange Iseterre:

Esti Kyton:

Tara Inyanga:

OOC Divider:

Alt Divider:

And the FFXIV Divider, which people can use if they please:

[When I'm done screaming, maybe I'll go through and make more for the rest of my characters because I know for a fact this won't teach me to not make more characters...]

[distortedkilling]

He's replacing all the eggs in the park with his own personal ones.

[hellcab]

{{ Whelp, I nearly died on my way to work. That’s a first. }}

[deadn30n]

[bleach-your-panties]

getting roughed up by a stressed-out izuru❄️⋱

minors/blank dni. purely thirst-fueled. cw: facefucking/throatfucking, manhandling, dirty talk/degradation. aftercare. fem reader.

wc: 927

You were sitting on the futon in the living room reading when the front door to your home slid open and then abruptly slammed shut.

Glancing behind you, you saw the slim silhouette of your husband Izuru standing in the doorway. His shihakusho ruffled, his Lieutenant badge displaced halfway down from its usual position around his arm, and his meticulously styled bang was pushed out of his face.

He glanced around the room a couple of times before his eyes landed on you. Like a predator stalking its prey, he began to make his way over. His Reiryoku permeated the room and nearly suffocated you once he was in close enough proximity.

Izuru’s cornflower blue eyes always held a certain intensity to them, but right now they hold many other emotions: contempt, frustration, and aggression.

Still, you closed your book and stood up to greet him with a warm smile on your lips.

“Welcome home, Zu.”

He didn’t acknowledge your greeting, making your lips turn down into a pout.

“Rough day?”

A soft ‘tch’ left his lips, barely audible.

“What do you think?”

He finally answers, glaring down his perfectly sculpted nose at you.

You swallowed slightly,

“Is there anything I can do-”

Before you could finish, he had gripped you by the front of your shirt and shoved you back against the wall behind the futon.

His fingers trailed down your neck and dipped into the collar of your blouse, easily ripping it open. A couple of buttons flew off and skidded across the wooden floor.

“Zuru…”

“Shut up.”

Those long, skinny fingers took a firm grip of your jaw. With just his thumb and pinky he held a firm grip on your head.

“Open.”

Izuru slid his left middle, index, and ring fingers between your lips and pressed down.

The metallic taste of his wedding band on your tongue made you feel a depraved sense of arousal.

“Want to know what will make me feel better, Y/N? Stuffing my cock in your mouth and fucking your throat raw until you can’t talk.”

He slid his fingers out of your mouth and smirked seeing the thick trail of your saliva connected to them.

Leaning back onto his knees, he gave you space to slide down onto the floor between his legs while he kneeled on the futon.

“Eager are we? Good.”

With big eyes, you glanced up at his handsome face that was still twisted up in irritation.

Pretty hands with orange-manicured fingernails began to reach for his obi.

“Don’t touch me.”

They immediately dropped to your sides and Izuru cradled your head between his legs by hiking one up onto the futon and extending the other.

One-handed, he untied the sash. Your mouth watered in anticipation of taking his thick rod into your mouth and tasting his pre.

With the fingers of one hand curled up in your shirt, the others gripped the top of your hair at the roots as he began his brutal pace of fucking your mouth.

“I married the right one, yeah? A good mouth slut…” He moaned with his head thrown back, deep ocean blue eyes affixed to the ceiling.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to regulate your breathing, but that didn’t help once Izuru leaned your head back. He was now fully straddling your head, but he kept just enough of his dick pulled out so that you didn’t die.

A sharp slap to your cheek jolts you back to reality.

“That was a question. Answer.”

You did your best to nod with aching jaws and a full throat. E/c eyes stung with tears that soon bubbled up and spilled down your cheeks.

“Say it. What are you?” He popped his cock out and rubbed the tip on your bottom lip.

Drool and pre-cum dripped down your neck and into the valley of your breasts.

“A-A g-good mouth slut…”

“For who?”

“For y-you.”

“Damn right.”

The juicy, wet sounds of your normally docile husband fucking your throat pervaded the expanse of your living room.

Thankfully the nearest neighbors lived many houses down. Perks of being married to a Lieutenant.

“So desperate for me. My good girl. Letting me feed you my fucking cock like this, hnngh...” He hummed through gritted teeth, eyes squinted shut.

When he decided to open them again, all he could see was your little doe eyes looking up at him with so much lust and love in them.

“S-shit, don’t look at me like that…oh fuck, I’m cumming…fuck, baby.”

The stress of the day’s work and the exhaustion he felt deep in his bones completely dissipated as he let his copious seed fill every crevice of your mouth.

And like the good little wife you were, you swallowed as much as you could.

Izuru pulled his now flaccid member from your mouth, a gush of your saliva and his cum following it.

He used two fingers to scoop up the mess from your chin and between your breasts and stuff it back into your mouth.

Never a wasteful man, your husband.

After fixing his clothes and helping you sit back down on the futon, Izuru’s eyes softened and he began stroking the crown of your head.

“Was I too rough, love?”

You looked at him and simply pointed to your throat. His cheeks immediately flushed bright red.

“Oh, right…I’m sorry. I’ll make you some tea.”

Your eyes crinkled in mirth before you laid your head on his shoulder.

Secretly, you were hoping that he’d get rough with you like this more often.

----

[featheryhoe]

THIS DIVIDER. TOOK SO FUCKING LONG. HAVE IT. CREDIT ME IF U USE IT.

[yuelun]

I swear I'm not dead, I'm just coding. I both love and hate this.

[mossymultiverse]

Newmoon Island

(@uncle-dusknoir)

As it turned out, Boat Guy did not, in fact, wake up when they arrived at Newmoon Island. Not even with all the yelling Moss was doing as they tried to turn off the autopilot to slow the boat down.

Despite a very loud, very frightened, and very angry conversation (chock-full of swears, might I add), neither the boat nor the boat's Guy would pay any heed to Moss, Basil, or any of their pokemon.

Moss closed their eyes, bracing for impact, preparing to use their soft squishy body as a cushion for any of their more mortal friends, as the ship raced towards the island at full speed. They tensed their body, feet planted firmly in a wide stance, and....

....Opened their eyes, confused.

The boat. Had stopped. The rain had too, if the lack of pitter-pattering on the roof was to be believed. The windows were still streaked with rain, as if it had been raining only seconds before, and the boat was still rocking, but very gently, as if the sea was trying to lull them to sleep.

Looking out the window confirmed the boat's lack of movement. There they were, parked perfectly at the dock, waves lapping mildly against the shore. The boat was even tied up.

Moss looked at Basil, eyes wide and bewildered, clearly struggling to relax.

"....are you ok?"

[dcviline]

Updated Starter Call. Fill this out for a starter. If you did the last one, you're more than welcome to fill this out again, especially since I've added new muses <3

[lrdvyke]

in going with the hivemind idea for the frenzied flame, that would mean vyke's thoughts, feelings, and dreams are all shared with those who have the frenzy flame in them and vice versa. anger will come to him when he's not angry, only to make him think it's now his anger, etc ( example from kale ). dreaming / possibility of having a difficult time sleeping. will say, joining that with my idea of the evergaol's cutting off people from outer god influences ( reason why vyke uses dragon incants in there and not frenzied flame ) then he may have felt at least some kind of small peace in there because, if cut off from the outer god of chaos, he would then be cut off from everyone else afflicted with the frenzied flame. so escaped vyke, upon leaving, all that would be slammed back into him the moment he leaves the evergaol. however, if going with a specific ending that is more neutral ( like ranni's ending ) then there is a chance that effect would dwindle as the afflicted die off.

[szemiesza]

@radiatorchains

The night was very warm, which only added to Melchior's overall bad mood. It was January, for god's sake, it should be freezing. At least the form of an owl going over 50kph ensured him some cool breeze under the wings.

He landed on a tree on the side of the tracks, which led through a mostly green terrain with a few houses here and there and a small road crossing them, leading back into town. He turned back into his regular form, although with the makeshift snake-legs he had a few nights back and made himself comfortable on the branch. And then he waited.

After a short while, he saw the lights of the approaching train in the distance. He jumped down, walked up to the tracks, and right when the train was passing him, beginning to slow down to stop at the nearby station, he pressed a button on a small metal device and didn't let go until he saw the effects.

Initially, he wasn't sure if this would work; it couldn't have had a very wide area of working. But when he saw big electric sparks come off the wires and the lights inside flicker and die, he knew he was successful.

He watched the train come to a screeching halt before it was supposed to, making ungodly noises that could only signify damage. There was even a smell of something burning. He smirked and let out a chuckle, then broke a window and went inside.