#‘i almost lost it i’ll heal eventually.’

[zaiinab]

why would she ever do this to me

[rodolfoparras]

Four in the morning ( when you creep back into bed )

Pairing: Wolverine x Top Male Reader

Cw: 18+, fingering, anal sex, sub!wolverine, dom!male reader, fwb,

Thinking about Wolverine who’s always so impatient to wind down after a long day, calls you over to his place with someone else’s blood and guts still caked onto him.

He hasn’t even finished up the call when he’s stripping the clothes off of him, before pushing strong thighs up to his chest, spit slicked fingers working on loosening the tight ring of muscles, all while counting down how long it takes for you to get there, silently wondering if he should have someone else finish up the job instead.

By the time you arrive, he’s already driving three fingers up inside his tight wet hole, the muscles in his wrist flexing with how hard he’s going, angry red cock uselessly slapping against his stomach as he fucks himself down onto his fingers , all while frustrated noises roll off of his tongue because of course this isn’t enough to make him finish

The frustration only grows when he sees you standing motionless at the door, and he’s quick to tell you to hurry over and fuck him already, even huffing and puffing as he proceeds to turn over and present his ass for you because fuck does he have to do everything around here?

“come on come on come on” he rushes out, hand parting his cheeks to show you his hungry cunt, momentarily wondering if he should just tie you up and use you however he wants.

But just as the thought strikes his head he feels your cock brushing up against the furls of muscles, and a sigh of relief escaping his lips as you finally slide inside him.

Despite the amount of prep there’s a slight burn that comes with the stretch, muscles reflexively resistant as you sink further into him, but he happily welcomes it; toes curling, clawed nails threatening to poke hole in the sheets, as the pleasurable flames slowly but surely engulf him “mfp - ah fuck that’s it yes yes yes, took you ah took you long enough,”

He steadily takes you inch by inch till you’re buried to the hilt; ass flushed with your hips, pressed so close he can practically feel your heartbeat against his skin, even feels himself going lax in as if you’ve finally quenched the fire that’s burning inside of him.

“Couldn’t exactly teleport here now could I?”

Just as he’s about to retort with something sarcastic, you give an experimental roll of your hips cock head brushing up against the wall of nerves that knocks the wind out of him , desperately gasping for air when he demands “Fuck!, oh -oh need more come on, please!!”

“Easy there , going ah- to hurt yourself,” you splurt out , fingers digging into his hips as if to prevent yourself from ramming into the man.

Logan however couldn’t care less, uses his hips to push himself back down onto your length, body shuddering and groans escaping his lips as he starts fucking himself on your dick. “I’ll - ah - I’ll heal,”

That’s when he feels your fingers yank at his hair, pulling him back til his head is resting on your shoulder before driving up into him at a relentless pace, all while keeping a sturdy hand on his hip, turning and twisting his body as you please- as if he weighed nothing .

“This what you wanted huh?” You breathe into his ear while continuously slamming into his hungry cunt.

For a moment he’s unable to muster up a response, lost in the way you’re slamming your hips into him so hard it almost hurts, stretching his body in ways that makes him feel like he’s being split in half on your cock.

But the constant jabs to his prostate eventually coaxes the words right out of him “Yes! Yes! Yes! don’t stop fuck!” He gasps out feels himself already inching closer to his orgasm, and maybe he’d be embarrassed about it if he hadn’t been worked up for such a long time. All he can do now is keep a vice like grip on your cock fearing you’d be cruel enough to pull out when he’s so close to cumming

Fortunately for him you don’t do any of that, instead you continue ramming straight into him til the tension in his balls grow unbearable tight and he’s withering in your arms.

“Cum-cumming-“ is all he manages to blurt out, body tensing for a moment before spurting ropes of cum all over the mattress. “Mph fuck!” He cries out, , world blurring, ears ringing as he continues rides out his high in your arms.

Eventually he stops shaking in your embrace and upon catching his breath he’s hit with the smell of a coppery scent, one heavy eyelid prying open just to be met with the sight of his claws digging into your now bloody hands. A wave of panic rushes through him, and he’s quick to retract his claws before he goes to say something. But just as he’s about to speak you interrupt him “it’s okay”

He doesn’t say a word as he brings your hands to his lips, tongue slipping out and lapping up the bloody mess on your skin.

“Jesus Christ Logan,” you wince out, head dropping into the nook of his neck as he cleans you up, swears he can feel your cock twitching inside as he continues on with his task , his lips all bloody and smiling ear to ear when he says the words “Another round?”

[skylarsblue]

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes, AGAIN AGAIN✦

Ghost: Release me, woman. Fem!Y/N: …. *hugs him tighter* :3 Ghost, scared of intimacy: UNHAND ME!- -- (Comedic Death Mention) Someone: I shot you six times hOW ARE YOU ALIVE?! Y/N: Fool! The only one that’s gonna knock me off is ME! Price: *PANICKING*

-- Gaz: What did you do? Soap: ….suckdickonaccident Gaz: What? Soap: Sucked dick on accident! Gaz: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SU-

-- Gaz: Here. We’ll put your phone on the aux- Y/N: NO DON’T- Speakers on full volume: FUCKFUCKFUCKMEUPANDCUTCUTCU- Price: JESUS BLOODY CHRIST *shuts off radio* Soap: *scratching the inside of his ear* Steamin’ Jesus- Y/N: I tried to warn you! Gaz: Who listens to Slipknot at 0900?! Ghost: *raises hand* Gaz: That’s- okay that’s fair. Soap: I’ve gone deaf. Y/N: You’re a bomb tech, it was gonna happen eventually. Soap: *middle finger* Price: *disappointed sigh* It’s too early for this-

-- (This one’s kinda sad but I couldn't stop thinkin' bout it-) Alejandro: You used to be nice…or did you never used to be? Valeria: … Alejandro: Oh god…maybe you never used to be…

-- Not a quote but if any of you have heard that audio that’s the names of the Princes of Hell overlayed on Funky Town, please imagine Soap & Y/N dancing to the Funky Town portion while Ghost sits there menacingly. Thank you.

-- (Depression joke) Y/N: Ahaaaa I’m soooo unwell. Price: Go to the psyche- Y/N: Ya know what it never was? That serious. It was never that serious- Price: Get your ass back here- Y/N: NEVER!-

-- König: I’ll keep all my emotions right here, and then one day, I’ll die. Horangi: No-

-- (Valeria has no color here, I ran out) Valeria: *eye roll* I am not trying to seduce you. Y/N, bi panicking: …. Valeria, but now smug: Would you like me to seduce you? Y/N: *strained wheeze & squeaky* Already achieved ma’am- Gaz: *listening to a mic implanted on Y/N* God damnit dON’T LET YOUR MOMMY ISSUES RUIN THIS MISSION!

-- (These next two have mental health jokes in’em) Y/N, hyper cleaning the base: AHAHA, yes! I’m finally feeling bett- ah, wait. I’m manic, and I’m hyper cleaning everything, ✨as a diversion✨. Price: P s y c h e . Y/N: Jokes on you, old man. I already have meds for this! …might need to up them though they feel like they’ve stopped working. Price: When did you start to feel they weren’t working? Y/N: Like three months ago. Price: PSYCHE Y/N: ASKING THEM QUESTIONS ABOUT MEDS ARE SCAAAARRYYY Price: YOU KILL MEN ALMOST EVERYDAY Y/N: Fair point. (Take ya meds)

-- Price: I don’t understand you- Y/N: Good! Means you’re probably mentally well. Price: I- Gaz: We really need to like- specify when you’re joking and when you’re serious, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

-- Gaz: …Hm. Price: You’ve been staring at me for the past six minutes, what is it?Gaz: I think you have a grey hair. Price: Y/N, speeding in: WHICH IS TOTALLY FINE, IT’S BARELY EVEN THERE AND EVEN IF YOU WERE GOING GREY IT’D LOOK FANTASTIC ON YOU. Price: …would it? Y/N: Absolutely! …*thumps Gaz in the back of the head* Gaz: Ow-Uh yeah! Yeah! Actually I don’t even think it’s there, just the lighting. Price: Hm…alright. Y/N: Mhm! *death glare* Gaz: *mouthing* I’msosorry-

-- (Will someone please notice that I write Ghost as "Simon" when he's with Soap and they're being soft? It's intentional-) Soap: I’m not really sure what I’d do if I lost you… Simon: I know what I’d do. Soap: What? Simon: I’d find you.

-- Soap: I got my ankles microwaved. Ghost: X-rayed. Soap: They took my blood away for science! Ghost: Cholesterol tests. Soap: Si had his sinuses…removed? Ghost: Looked at. Soap: Some guy looked at my penis, touched it. That was weird. Ghost, cleaning blood off a knife: That guy wasn’t even a doctor.

-- Medic!Y/N: You think killing is hard? Try healing something. That is hard, that requires patience. Alejandro, watching them bandage his hand: Hm… Medic!Y/N: You can break something in two seconds. *vaguely motions to Ghost, then Price, then at a necklace Alejandro wears that came from Valeria* But it can take forever to fix it. Alejandro: …aye…well said.

-- Gaz: *being annoying and singing a song for the 10,000th time* Price: KYLE! Gaz: I’m watchin’ my tone, dunana. I ain’t talkin’ back, no, why? Cause I’ma get thrown, dunana-

-- Graves: You know, Ghost, real talk bro, you never say nothin’ when you’re around us. Why is that? Ghost: Cause I don’t fucking like you guys.

-- Enemy: I’m gonna send you to God. Y/N: God? I’m insulted you think I’d end up in Heaven. I work hard for my sins, thank you very much. Ghost: We are hostages right now, can you please not-

-- Valeria: And guess who gets to be my little helper.~ Y/N: It’s me, I’m the helper… Valeria: That’s right, you sure are.~ Alejandro: Alright that’s enough! Valeria: What? You don’t believe in positive affirmation?

-- Rudy: Me gustan los perros. Alejandro: Me gustas… Rudy: ….hm. Me gusta un hombre en el ejército. Alejandro: Aye? Rudy: Mhm. Alejandro: *chuckles* Me gusta mi mejor amigo. Rudy: Me gustas.

(This was poorly translated but listen, I tried for the gays)

-- Price: You actually were telling the truth. Valeria: I do that quite a lot, you people are always surprised.

-- Laswell: Don’t pull any of those stunts like you did last time. Fem!Y/N: I made an offering. Laswell: You dropped a dead mouse into that poor man’s lap. Fem!Y/N: Yes! Like a cat. Laswell: You are not a cat! Fem:Y/N: No…tragically, I am a woman.

-- Ghost: Some people are simply…better than others. Graves: You really think you’re that much better than me? Ghost: Oh I think we both know the answer to that.

--

(Needing to fake a date for a mission) Y/N, on the phone: Laswell, I don’t need help with dating. I’ve been on loads of dates! Y/N: *turns and whispers to Gaz* I’ve literally been on one.

-- Enemy: Think you can answer questions without the usual level of sarcasm? Y/N: If you can ask them without the usual level of stupid. Enemy: Where’s your captain and why hasn’t anyone been able to contact him? Y/N: I dunno, I’ve been here, haven’t seen him in days. Enemy: Is he drinking again? Y/N: What do you mean again? He never had to stop. Enemy: But he did have to slow down, is he drinking like he used to? Y/N: Alright, how bout this? Next time I see him, I’ll give’im the field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet, start with F & end with U.

-- Graves: And that’s why I personally, don’t agree with your opinion. Soap: Okay, counter point- Graves: Valid argument? Soap: No. Pipebomb!

-- Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Y/N: I’ma instigate. Gaz, lightly pulling them back: nnnnoooooooooo-

-- Y/N: Eeraaawr >:3 Gaz: What sound is that? Y/N: A dyianosaur Gaz: A what? Y/N: Dianoswaur. Gaz: Make the sound again. Y/N: Uurraawer Gaz: Oh you talkin’ bout them things from ✨Jerressi PerAHck✨ Y/N: AHAH! Ghost: I’m gonna lose it. Soap: Hush yer mouth, it’s cute. Lighten up ya big log.

-- Ghost: I think I’ve finally had enough. Y/N, getting his antidepressants: I think you’re full of shit.

-- Medic!Y/N: C’mon, stick with me, Ghost. Ghost: Might be time to follow my call si-OH FUCKING HELL WHY Medic!Y/N: You listen here you Fuckin’ bastard, I’m gonna love the absolute shit out of you until you never make a joke like that again. And then, if you still do it, I’ll have the team smother, smother, you in affection. And if you STILL don’t get it, THEN I’m gonna whoop your ass. Shut your perfect fucking mouth, you got that, soldier?! Ghost: ….since when did you get scary? Medic!Y/N: Adrenalin keeps people alive and sometimes we run out of epipens, had to substitute somehow.

-- Price: Now, sergent, what would you rather be? A lion or a panda? Soap: Captain, I’m me. Why would I want to be anything else? Price: I’m not sure you realize how psychologically healthy that is.

-- Ghost, pissed off: Sometimes I can’t stand you. Y/N, while walking away: Then kneel! And while you’re down there, occupy your mouth, you’d do better down there, QUIET, anyway!! Ghost: I-…… Soap: Oooooo…. Gaz: I- I-…they have no fear. None. Absolutely no survival instinct, no self preservation. None!

-- (Younger Y/N as in like…mid-late twenties. Also, this one is long. I might honestly make a lil oneshot with this one and I welcome anyone else to do the same) Y/N: John… Price: I know, I know. You love me. You’ve said it a thousand times and it should just stick, I just…can’t help but think about how you’re so… Y/N: *snort* Out of your league? Price: To put it bluntly. Y/N: Well, regardless of where I rank? I still love you. I’m going to love you for a long time, you’re stuck with me, ya sweethearted bastard. Price, fondly: Ah Dear, whatever will I do. Y/N: Yeaaaah. Besides! Even if I wasn’t completely and utterly, disgustingly, in love with you? …you are way too good of a sugar daddy to ditch. Price: Hah! Oh really? Why’s that? Y/N: Are you kidding?! Paid off house, paid off car, successful military captain, great manners, great dick, extremely attractive, good with kids, good cook, sexy voice. I could go on for awhile. Price: Oh now you’re just feedin’ my ego. Y/N: Yes, yes I am. Price: I’ll get cocky. Y/N: You’re sexy when you’re arrogant too, that doesn’t deter me. Price: *sigh* Far out of my league. Y/N: You’re a rank climber, I think you’ll keep up.

-- (NSFW but it's in a ha-ha funny way, based on a conversation I've had. Kink mentions) Soap: Look, I just...I need advice on how to spice it up in the bedroom. Y/N: Do you know how little that narrows it down? Gaz: I feel there are few options. Y/N: No there are a lot of options, it depends on your level of spice. I dunno your boundaries wit'cha man! Soap: I just need something! Y/N: THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS! Get some handcuffs, grab a vibrator, TRY ANAL, I don't fucking know! Gaz: *chokes on drink* Soap: Okay, listen- Y/N: No, you listen. Rule of thumb with kinks? It's a mountain and there are three kinds of people on it. People who don't wanna climb, people who want to climb but choose not to, and people who stay climbing. You reach a level of kinkiness and you stay there. You can't go back down the mountain. Me, personally? I have chosen to stop climbing because I know I'll get worse. I'm choosing to stay on my part of the mountain. Where you wanna climb is up to you. Soap: Where do I climb then? Y/N: The beginner's trail is fuzzy handcuffs, orgasm control, and mirror sex. Soap: This is the weirdest advice I've ever gotten. Y/N: It's my specialty.

-- (Follow it up with an asexual joke) Graves: Are you fighting the urge to make out with me right now? Y/N: Not really, I'm really into this pizza though. Soap, in the back: Aw they burnt my fuckin' cookies! Assholes. Y/N: Karma. Soap: It is not my fault I ate the last slice of cake, I didn't know it was yours- Y/N: IT WAS LABELED! Soap: I DIDN'T SEE IT!! Graves: *slowly backs away*

-- Y/N, holding up a coffee pot: Anyone want more coffee? Price: No, we've all had ours. Y/N: *takes off the lid* Cool. Gaz: What are y-NO! Y/N: *chugging from the pot* Ghost: ...This is the peak of mental illness. Price: PUT THE DAMN POT DOWN! Soap: This is the scariest thing I've ever seen them do- Y/N: *fighting to finish the coffee as Price tries to get it away from them*

[tadpolesonalgae]

Piercings[*]

Poly!Batboys x reader

a/n: I realised you probably would have specified poly batboys if you wanted them all together rather than individually but I was feeling a little feral (and also a little tired, I’ll admit it) so I’ve written it as all of them together 🧡💛 — also we’re saying that with fae healing she only needed a week to be sorted and safe from infection

warning: piercings, slight nipple play, poly batboys

word count: 1,270

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Teeth tug at the interior of your lip as you walk into the sitting room, finding all three of them contained within the cozy chamber. 

Three sets of eyes raise when you enter, sensing you have something to say. You shift anxiously on your feet. “Hi…” you begin, toes curling in your socks, a spark of nerves glistening beneath your skin, pulse spiking in your throat—one they can almost certainly pick out. 

It’s Rhys who takes the lead as the closest to where you are, lowering his book and setting it down, open, over one arm of the sofa, Cassian watching intently from the other end, ankle crossed over his thigh. “You look…nervous,” Rhys muses, violet eyes gleaming with satisfaction when you shift, fingers clutching the hem of your thick, purple jumper. “Did something happen?” 

Your lips part to speak, but a rush of nerves has you second guessing yourself, averting your gaze to the floor, heart pounding. “I have…” Fuck, you’re nervous. You swallow. Look back at them. “I have something to tell you…?” 

Rhys’ lips tug upward at their corners, interest sparking in Cassian’s hazel eyes, a neutral but attentive expression from Azriel. You ease in a small breath—you know them; they won’t be angry with you. You just need to show them. It’s easy to admit you’re far more scared of the attention they’ll give you rather than potential disappointment. They’re feral enough if they so much as catch a glimpse of a new set of underwear they’ll be dragging you to their bedroom, pinning you to their mattress, so this…you swallow again. Maybe it was a stupid idea. But they’re going to find out eventually. It’s already been a week, after all. 

“Maybe it would be better if I showed you,” you mumble under your breath, fingers tugging at the deep purple wool, the knit stretching as you lift it to reveal the lacy white camisole underneath—sheer enough for the metal bars to be visible as they push against the soft, creamy fabric. 

Cassian’s book slips from his grip, thudding on the floor. Pages fluttering. 

You bite the interior of your lip, folding the jumper over your arm so your have something to do with your hands. “They’ve finished healing now…” You tell them, glancing down at the individual stitches that make up the purple knitwear, picking out how the yarn wraps around itself to form a repeating pattern. 

“Come here.” Rhys’s voice is deeper; rougher. Strained, as he calls you over. 

“Why…” you ask, a note of warning in your voice, raising a brow. This is exactly what you were worried about. “I’m only telling you so you know. They’re still—”

“That was an order, princess,” Azriel murmurs from the other sofa, tension underlying the rigidity of his wings, hazel eyes piercing in on you like you’re a rabbit that’s about to turn on her fluffy tail and frantically try to hop away. 

Half reluctantly, you step closer to Rhys’ side, fingers fiddling with the jumper to try and keep your nerves soothed. 

Violet eyes look up at you, and you force yourself to remain still as he grips your hip, a sure enough sign you won’t be leaving without their permission. “Is this why you’ve been hiding yourself from us?” He inquires, and you nod. “And you’re saying they’re healed now? Properly healed?” His thumb swipes across the bone of your hip, your every sense keyed to his touch. You feel like you could get lost in his eyes. So strangely hypnotising. Like they’re luring you in. 

His lips tug upward, and then you’re being tugged forward, landing perfectly in his lap under his guidance. You squeak, squirming beneath his touch, trying to shift out of his lap—you knew this would happen. “Rhys, hold on,” you try, gripping onto his wrists as his palms splay across your stomach leisurely, fingers crawling beneath the hem of your close-fitting camisole. “Wait, they’re…” 

“What?” Rhys drawls, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Tell us what they are, darling.” 

“…they’re sensitive.” 

The pads of his fingers stutter briefly over your skin, before his lips are curving into a grin. “How perfect.” 

“Rhys, please…” you murmur, trying to glance at him. 

“Please what?” 

“Be careful?” You request, shifting in his lap. Shaky fingers lightly wrapping around his wrist. 

He hums, attention flicking to his brothers. “Should we?” 

“Rhysand!” You exclaim, trying to turn to look at him, but his grip tightens on you punishingly, reminding you to keep still. 

“Try her out first,” Azriel muses, drawing your attention, hazel eyes boring into you—hot, hungry, and adoring. It gives you a little reassurance, at least. “You’re supposed to be on my side, Az,” you mumble, a little betrayed he isn’t advocating for your release. “When you’re wearing pretty things like that? I think not,” he drawls, a hint of affection in his expression. “Besides, you know very well you aren’t permitted to keep secrets from us.” 

“I wanted it to be a surprise…” you mumble, flushing. 

“I think it’s safe to say we’re surprised, sweetheart,” Cassian drawls, “but a secret is still a secret.” 

“Cass…” 

“Do you disagree?” 

You open your mouth to do just that, but instead a startled sound squeaks from your lips, Rhys’s fingers brushing lightly over the peaks of your nipples. You gasp, trying to grapple with him to get his hands away but you can hardly manage to make him budge as he circles your breasts through the thin fabric. 

“I didn’t want you to have to wait while knowing about them,” you try, cheeks heating as thoughts begin to melt away. “Wouldn’t it have been worse if I had told you?” 

“A rule is a rule, darling.” 

“But Rhys…Rhys!” You gasp as he pulls your top away entirely, and you can practically feel their attention on your breasts. The pretty bars adorning your nipples. 

“How sensitive are they?” Azriel asks, but it’s worryingly not directed at you. 

“Let’s see…” 

A panting moan spills suddenly from your lips, breaths fluttering as Rhys brings his thumbs to lightly drag across the sensitive peaks. You squirm in his lap, nonsensical pleas whispering from your mouth as you try to squeeze your legs together, heat simmering violently and you’re worried how severely they’ll exploit this for their advantage. 

“Pretty sensitive,” Cassian drawls, and you exhale deep breaths of relief when Rhys’ fingers cease their stimulation, already practically trembling in his lap. “I suppose I can see why she wanted to keep these secret, knowing us,” he remarks, your lower lip wobbling at the comment. He grins, and your hairs rise. 

“I have different ones,” you say, trying to halt Rhys’s fingers, trying to figure a way out of his hold. “I got ones with different colours…let me show you.” Rhys laughs beside your ear, breath fanning down the side of your throat, making you shiver. “Darling, that won’t work. You’re staying with us until we decide you’ve had enough.” 

“But that can take hours…” 

“And it’ll take days if you don’t stop whining,” he counters, grazing his thumb across your nipple. “I’m sure between the three of us, we could make it last much longer.”

You squeak as shadows wrap around your ankles, wrapping around your calf, up your knee, lacing around your thighs, pulling them further apart. 

“And if we have to correct your behaviour one more time…” Azriel warns, your skin prickling at the low, raspy tone. Toes curling. Shadows creeping higher.

He doesn’t have to finish that sentence for you to understand the meaning. 

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[megumimania]

ADDICTED — shoko ieiri

synopsis: a half-drunken bet with gojo means that shoko gives up smoking for a week, so she finds other ways (you) to get her fix.

warnings: shoko and gojo’s night out!, fluff, gojo being stingy and shoko bullying him for it, slightly ooc, mentions of suguru, shoko loves you and your lips more, shoko x fem!reader

it was another night out on the town with shoko and gojo who were on their third bar of the night. shoko nursed a vodka cranberry in one hand and a cigarette in the other whilst gojo was on his third highly syrupy sweet ‘mocktail’.

the atmosphere was lively and the conversation that was mainly fuelled by alcohol and high levels of sugar was non stop. they talked about everything from work, high school crushes to which gojo went on a 20 minute deep dive on the non sorcerer guy he briefly dated in junior year.

gojo would eventually find the guys socials but they were on private. which was a bummer but he still requested.

after a while they settled on the topic of health, shoko’s field of expertise. being in their late twenties meant that their bodies were beginning to pay for the late nights, the boozy nights that only came back in flashes and the constant stress and strain of being a jujutsu sorcerer.

“look what i can do!”

shoko hiccuped before taking a long drag from her cigarette and blowing the smoke out from her nostrils. the sugar rush was definitely hitting gojo as he looked at her in wondrous awe.

“whoa, sho did you eat suguru’s dragon curse because that was pretty cool. you’re like part dragon now!” satoru watched with childlike wonder as the tendrils of smoke dissipated into the dense air of the bar making him cough a little.

the sugar high dulled his senses to the point where he didn’t register the two security guards who wordlessly pointed at the no smoking sign dangling right in front of them. shoko quickly downed the contents of her drink before she was escorted out of the bar.

the cold late night weather sobered shoko and gojo up pretty quickly. even in their hazy minds the damage was being undone with rct. they both felt the quiet thrum of rct healing their battered pancreas and livers, the sensation feeling like unblocking a blocked nose.

shoko lit a cigarette whilst her and satoru walked to the nearest train station. “shokoooo.” he whined, crinkling his nose at the smell of smoke wafting through the air making him feel kinda dizzy.

“i don’t get how you enjoy those cancer sticks do you know—”

“yes i know all about how bad smoking is idiot, i heard all about it in med school.” she takes another drag of her cigarette, already sighing.

as if shoko could take another lecture, remembering the pointed gazes that fellow students used to give her whenever the topic of smoking and lung cancer came up in med school. those seemingly pitiful faces were nice until she remembered that she could drop dead and they wouldn’t care.

satoru was never surprised by her lack of tact, it was almost expected from her. he looked unfazed at her attitude, seemingly lost in deep thought which was something satoru did on a rare occasion. he was a man that was driven by impulse, solely held together by the bare bones of logic.

meanwhile shoko could recognise the cogs turning in his labyrinth of a mind, she wondered what spurred this lapse in thought. before the words could escape his lips shoko had already beat him to it.

“no.”

“what i didn’t even say anything!” he pouted, crossing his arms.

she stopped to face him tapping her foot impatiently, when you knew someone like satoru for this long it wasn’t that hard to gauge what he wanted. shoko gave him a look that said well…speak!

“i’ll give you 500 bucks and that special grade curse you’ve been pestering me about, if you quit smoking for a week.” gojo offered, his eyes twinkling with something akin to amusement.

shoko was lowkey offended at the low sum that he was offering her. for a trust fund nepo baby he was being very stingy right now which made zero sense to her.

in shoko’s eyes if you were rich the last thing you could ever be is stingy, especially in satoru’s case as he was heir to a multi million dollar fortune. plus it wasn’t like she needed the money anyways she just liked seeing him spend it on stupid shit.

“satoru i can’t believe that our 10 years of friendship is only worth 5000 yen to you!” she replied with mock offense, placing a hand on her chest for dramatic effect. she leans in closer to him before talking in a hushed voice.

“satoru are you…b-broke?” she gasps, eyes widening with shock. she knew that would hit him where it hurts. even though gojo repeatedly stated money wasn’t important to him, the tick in his jaw said otherwise.

satoru huffs as he fishes out his wallet from the deep depths of his pockets and pulls out several crisp 10000 yen bills. he wafts them in shoko’s face, to which shoko interprets as a desperate attempt to beat the broke allegations.

“now that i have shown you that i have the funds, do we have a deal?” gojo asks once more and shoko reluctantly obliges, taking her last hit of nicotine before she throws her cigarette away. “deal.” she replies, shaking gojo’s hand.

looking back shoko realises that she signed her own death warrant.

it has been three days since shoko made the fateful decision to give up smoking for a week and the withdrawals are hitting her more harder than she expected. she’s been painfully snappy with everyone ever since, especially with the main source of her distress, gojo.

by this time everyone gathered that the morning’s were the worst possible time to talk to shoko for anything, fearing of the wrath that would incur if you did talk to her. she got all the information through email or text

shoko tried to suppress her need for nicotine, from nicotine patches to chewing gum to eating crunchy foods, shoko felt like she was about to develop tmj from all the chewing she was doing and she honestly had enough of it all, she felt like a damn rabbit.

it wasn’t like she could go out and have a quick little smoke when gojo had bribed all the convenience store owners within a 20 mile radius, telling them not to sell any cigarettes to her.

by day five, shoko found a new way to cope with her withdrawal symptoms. you. kissing your sweet lips was what made this hell of a week much more bearable. at first they were fleeting, a quick kiss here and there before you left for work or one to your shoulder whilst she brushed past you in the kitchen.

if shoko wasn’t snacking or chewing she was kissing you every chance she got. "babee" you whined as you tried to break free of her unusually strong grasp. her strength always came as a shock to you even though you knew she trained with the best of the best before becoming a healer.

"why can't you just give me one more, babe?" she pleaded in that breathy whiny voice she knew that would drive you crazy as her dark brown eyes bored into yours. she was a sight to behold.

her moussy brown hair all tousled up, her flushed expression and her pretty pink puffy lips that was making it even harder for you to stay firm in your decision.

her hands still remained on your waist absentmindedly drawing patterns on your skin. "you know you don't have to go through with this." the way she had been going through the motions just to win a stupid bet that gojo would've let her win anyways was ridiculous.

shoko's lips were pressed into a hard line as she considered your response. you were right. regardless if she had won gojo would’ve caved but unfortunately she was stubborn as hell and wanted to prove a point.

so when day seven came rolling around shoko was ready to gloat in gojo’s as well as the all the naysayers faces who secretly bet that she wouldn’t make it through the week (cough cough meimei),

she strolled around campus trying to find the tall lanky white haired sadist who made her week hell but he was posted on another mission.

defeated, shoko headed back to her office her victory becoming less cool now that the person who she wanted to gloat to wasn’t even here. the staff group-chat sent their congratulations but it wasn’t the same. on her desk there was a card written in gojo’s familiar scrawl which read:

congrats for making it through the week! i hope you stop glaring at me in the hallways now, especially since i haven’t written a will yet lmao. i wish i could see you on your victory lap but duty calls hehe. enjoy your cigarettes! — gojo

shoko found the letter endearing and picked up the box of cigarettes he got for her. mild sevens or now known as mevius cigarettes. it’s not like she cared, she grew up calling them mild sevens and that’s what she’ll forever call them.

she grabbed her emergency lighter from her desk and slipped out the back of the building to have her celebratory cigarette. she was accompanied by a gorgeous sunset that the campus basked in making the school seem less eerie and unsettling. the motion of her pulling out a cigarette, lighting it and inhaling was muscle memory to her.

the first hit of nicotine after a week without it was like a relief, all the pent up tension just sliding off her soldiers with ease with each drag she took. a cloud of smoke left her lips as she sat with her back to the wall.

shoko really treasured these smoke breaks as they were a way to cope with the daily hell she experienced each day. the mangled corpses and curses she handled on the regular being just enough to fuel her nightmares for days.

however it wasn’t the worst sight she’s ever seen.

in retrospect the cigarettes paled in comparison to your sweet lips that she alone had the privilege of kissing each and every day. the dopamine rush she got each time rivalled any drug that she could think of.

shoko’s got a new addiction and it’s one that modern medicine cannot fix or provide a solution to, and it’s you.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the twinkle lights

lilac, chapter fifteen

a/n: yes that is lorelai gilmore in that moodboard and yes that scene those are screenshots from is partly the inspo for this chapter.

summary: “Yeah, sorry, it’s just a bit chaotic right now. The last of the guests just arrived and I haven’t even had time to go up and change yet. I’m still in fucking jeans.” 

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, wedding, alcohol consumption (not by reader though), fluffy phone call

word count: 2049

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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As yet another heavy sigh flowed from your lips, you tried to force your tense shoulders to relax as you felt the steam, from the coffee cup centimetres away from your mouth, kiss your weary features. 

Hidden away in the corner of the inn’s kitchen, you sat slumped on a small stool, the one usually tended for reaching the stuff in the upper cabinets. But just as you took your next sip, keeping it small so as to draw out the eventual emptiness and the fate that came with it, the doors swung open and in burst the rotund visage of Donna, all done up from the bottom of her clacking heals to the peals hanging low from around her neck.  

“What’s up, sluts!” her booming voice caused your father to jump and the piping bag in his grasp to nearly slip, though the entrance didn’t affect the sheriff who leaned against the far counter. His gaze stayed directed out the window where rows of foldout chairs were half set up. The remaining bubbles in Donna’s slender, lipstick-stained glass sloshed around as her eyes beheld the towering cake standing on the central worktable. And like a child, the inebriated woman couldn’t keep her fingers to herself as she reached out and swiped her finger through one of the swirly flowers piped around the tiers, “uh! Yum!”

But before she could bring the treat up to her lips, Harvey’s hand tapped over hers as he snapped, “no! Don’t you even dare!” raising up a finger and waving it in her face as he warned, “I have been working on this all week and I will not let you ruin it the last second!”

“Urgh, Harv, you’re so uptight, darling,” she rolled her eyes then held out her champagne flute, “here, why don’t you have a little glass of bubbly to calm your nerves?”

“Donna, just–,” you could almost make out the steam that spewed out of his ears, “get out of my kitchen! The rest of the night you’re not allowed in here or else–… or else…” he rapidly lost all of his gumption as he struggled and improvised a threat, “I’ll–… I’ll have Otto arrest you!”

Clearly not paying attention at all, Otto finally turned to face the rest as he overheard his name, “huh?” he raised his cosmopolitan up to his lips and took a small sip, “did you just say something about me?”

“Hah,” Donna laughed condescendingly, “sure he is, honey,” muttering as she sashayed around the kitchen table, “that’s funny… Otto, arrest me, his best friend of nearly 40 years, that’s–, oh!” her murmuring came to a screeching halt as she rounded the cake and your obscured figure came into her field of vision, “Y/n! There you are, you naughty, naughty girl! I heard a scrumptious little rumour that you were swapping saliva with a certain lumberjack in the Lilac Inn’s very own lobby just a few days ago… so, tell me, is he as great as I’d imagine?”

Exhaling lowly, you didn’t have the energy to humour her, “I thought you said you’d help with the decorations.” 

“Oh, I persuaded a few of the groomsmen to finish up the final touches for me.”

“You–, okay, alright, sure…” you begrudgingly took the last drink of your coffee and set it down on the table, “I give up.”

Turning to the small-town sheriff and causing her party dress to swoosh in the process, Donna smirked, “hey, did you see the groom’s uncle? The bald one? I heard he’s recently divorced… you wanna go hunt him down?”

With the hand not clutching his pink drink, Otto linked arms with Donna and said, “sure, why not,” before the eccentric duo disappeared out the side door that led into the garden.

With now only yourself and your father remaining in the kitchen, you puffed out a long exhale before pulling yourself up to your feet, the soles aching slightly from how much you’d been running around. 

“You alright, pumpkin?” Harvey lifted his gaze from his crouched position next to the tall dessert, bending over so close that his moustache nearly touched it as he kept a close eye on the whimsical patterns he slowly decorated on the white wedding cake. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you sighed, patting his shoulder gently as you passed, “just wish I had time for a longer break… wish me luck.”

“Good luck!” he called after you before you pushed the doors to the dining room open. 

The wall of noise hit you at once as you exited the kitchen, like running straight into a brick building. It was like a storm of music and loud conversations all throughout the packed inn. Willing your fists to unclench, you tried to prolong the purposely deep breaths you’d focused on just minutes before. 

Casting your glance out the tall windows, you spotted a few men, half in their suits, the jackets thrown off and the cuffs rolled up, stringing up twinkle lights from one tree to another. Swiftly, your gaze travelled further down and zeroed in on the set tables before you, across the neatly folded napkins and the various names on the place cards, one of the centrepieces especially caught your tense eye. Because of the immense stress you were already enduring, the slight askew nature of the vase, of both white and pastel purple lilacs you’d cut just this morning, made you feel as if drawing in a proper breath was the most difficult thing in the world.

Rushing to adjust it, even if it was just an inch, it still managed to bring a minuscule bubble of peace to your mind, sadly one that swiftly burst when two kids stormed through the room, one of them waving a sear piece of white cloth of his head. Promptly discerning what precisely it was they were playing with, you caught them right before they managed to rush back out of there. 

“Wow!” you held them by the shoulders and kneeled down to be at their level, “hey, you two,” you tried your hardest to lighten your tone, “you mind giving that veil to me?” 

“No, it’s mine!” the small boy clutched it to his chest. 

“Okay, uhm,” you sighed, trying not to lose your patience in front of these children, come off as some scary fairy-tale witch and make them cry, “how about you give me this so that I can return it to Emma and then I tell you where the secret, magic swing is?” 

“A magic swing?” the slightly taller girl’s eyes grew wide, “where?”

“It’s gonna cost you if you wanna know,” you held out your hand.

“Hmm,” the young boy squinted his eyes a moment before he cracked, “fine,” and gave you the veil, “where is it?”

“Behind the gazebo and in the direction of the pond,” you straightened back up and folded the accessories gently, “right there’s a huge tree with a swing on it.”

As they scurried off as fast as their little feet could take them, you turned and marched out into the lobby with your eye set on the grand staircase, but before your hand even reached the bannister, a frazzled man stopped you. 

“Hey, miss?” however just as he called for you, the sound of your ringtone buzzed in your pocket, “miss?” 

Fishing out your phone and not looking at the ID, you picked it up and briefly spoke into it, “hold on,” before twisting it away from your lips and turning to the mousy-looking man, “yes?”

Holding up a crisp white shirt, he pointed to one of the cuffs, “one of my buttons fell off and I–“

“Okay, hang on one second, I’ll find you a sewing kit. I just need to return this to the bride first,” you held up the veil.

“Alright, thanks,” he nodded and backed off into the sitting room to the side.

Beginning your ascend of the stairs, you turned your haphazard attention back to the phone, “hello?”

“Y/n?” Frank’s deep timbre flowed from the phone and seeped into your very core, “is this a bad time?”

Passing a few rowdy bridesmaids on the steps, they nearly bumped into you and caused you not to comprehend a single one of the words Frank had just said, “what?”

“I asked if this is a bad time,” he repeated as you reached the top of the steps, but as you did, the shrill wail of a baby, cradled in its mother’s arms, pierced your very soul. 

“I–, uhm, what?” you whipped your head around and spotted the hall closet off to the side, “I’m sorry, just one second,” and rushed to duck into it. The thin wall didn’t manage to drown out all of the noise, but it did get quiet enough for you to finally hear yourself think again. Switching on the dull lightbulb, “fuck…” you let yourself slide down the length of the door till you sat on the floor, “there,” you exhaled slowly, “hi, now I can hear you. What’s up?”

“Are you alright over there?”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just a bit chaotic right now,” resting the veil in your lap, you stretched out your legs, “the last of the guests just arrived and I haven’t even had time to go up and change yet. I’m still in fucking jeans.” 

“Sweetheart, it’s you,” his smile shined clear through in his low voice, “you could easily pull off wearing jeans to a wedding if you’d like.”

Feeling the corners of your lips gently tug upwards at his words, you breathed out, “so, did you just call to talk about the fact that I’m still in jeans and not the jaw-dropping green dress I got, or was there something else you wanted?”

“I just called to check in, see how you were holding up, but also to make sure you’re still up for tonight.”

Letting your spine rest back against the door, you shared, “honestly, the thought of going over to yours as soon as this is all over and they don’t need me anymore is the only thing getting me through the day without having a fucking meltdown…”

Letting a low sigh flow from his lips, you heard him ask, “you sure you don’t need me to get over there?”

“You’re sweet, but no, it’s alright,” you smiled, your fingers gently fiddling with the veil, “actually, it’s probably good that you’re not here. With the way Donna’s already enjoying herself with the champagne, you might end up as her next husband before the couple says I do.”

“Oh,” he swiftly mirrored the laugh that bubbled out of you, “well in that case.”

After the chuckling had died back down, you tried your best to sink into the quiet completely and enjoy the fleeting pause his phone call had granted you. 

After the moment of comfortable silence had come to a close, Frank’s voice flowed from the phone once more, “So, tell me,” the playful nature in his tone was still blatantly clear for you to pick up on, “just how jaw-dropping is that dress of yours?”

“Well,” you bit down on our grin, “I won’t be able to wear a bra with the kind of neckline that it has… and with the way that it falls on me, I might not be able to wear underwear as well,” that wasn’t true in the slightest, but he didn’t have to know if you’d slipped them off before you even put the dress on or mere moments before stepping out of the car to see him. The thought of him imagining you without them the entire night was far too enthralling not to entertain, “would be such a shame if the dress got ruined by distracting lines, wouldn’t it?”

As you heard him puff out a gravelly breath, “fuck me…sweetheart, you’re killing me here…” you simply giggled in return, “uhm, when was it again that you’ll be done?”

“Not completely sure, some time after dinner properly. I’ll send you a text when I head out.”

 “Alright.”

“You want me to try and steal some cake with me? We might need a snack a little later…”

“Oh, yeah?” he chuckled, “you planning on working up an appetite, are you?”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[nicxl333]

SEPARATE WAYS— GETO SUGURU X FEM!READER

summary: why should he stay with you if you don’t see his way of thinking?

content: fluff, angst, teen!geto, teen!gojo

i won’t lie to you, i didn’t proof read this so mistakes are probably imminent

life used to be so good. specifically when geto asked you out during second year at jujutsu high.

“suguru just do it you pussy. too afraid she’ll say no?”

“stop pestering me satoru. i don’t want to hear shit from someone who can’t keep a girlfriend for more than a week.”

“at least i get girls. can you say the same, loner?”

“you know, i’d insult you, but i’d have to explain it to you after, so forget it.”

gojo held his hands up in defeat, knowing arguing would get him nowhere.

“i’m just saying, she won’t stay on the market forever. who knows, maybe i’ll sweep her off her feet one day.”

and he walked off.

it had been months of geto having a never ending crush on you. the more he saw you the worse it got. not to mention the times you’d be partnered up on missions together. the care you held for his wellbeing especially when he was injured made his heart swell, healed his wounds ten times better than your RCT could ever hope to.

he swore to himself day by day that he’d eventually grow a pair and ask you out. maybe to a movie or a picnic. something romantic where he could truly show you the best version of himself. but when the time would come he would freeze, the common fear of rejection weighing over his body, holding his tongue down.

until he saw gojo actually making a move on you by the classroom door one day, his hand positioned above your head while your back was stood against the wall.

fuck no. fat chance in hell he’d let you be taken from him by the likes of gojo. of all people.

4 long strides was all it took for him to be standing adjacent to you. you turned from gojo to look at his agitated face, staring down gojo. if looks could kill, consider gojo in the morgue.

“oh, suguru, did you need me for something? guess you can give me those class notes some other time then y/n.”

fucking gojo, of course he’d pull some stunt like this.

although geto guessed that did give him the push he needed. actually seeing the possibility of you being taken scared him into actually doing something for once.

“not you dimwit, i need to talk to y/n.”

your eyes widened at this. what could he possibly need you for? little did he know you also had a devastatingly abnormal crush on him too, and you didn’t know if you could handle the proximity as it was, with him towering over you like that.

gojo held out his arms in faux devastation.

“alas, let me go venture for someone who truly cares.” he then winked at you.

trust gojo to be fucking obvious.

it was then brought to geto’s attention it was just him and you.

shit. he’d actually have to say something.

“so. y/n, i was… well i wanted to know if-”

fucking hell was this going well.

you tilted your head at him stumbling over his words. what happened to the confident, headstrong guy you knew and loved relatively liked?

“suguru, are you okay?”

fuuuck. he could’ve actually melted at you saying his name. your voice was so soft and soothing. he had to have you now.

“y/n. i need you to know something. i like you. like really badly. you’re constantly on my mind all day and i wouldn’t want anyone else if they’re not you. i understand if you don’t feel the same and we could just continue as before…”

while he was rambling you stood there shocked at his confession. you couldn’t believe he liked you back this whole time. it almost felt too easy.

“suguru.”

nothing. he was still rambling on. it seemed he was lost at this point. so you did what seemed right.

he paused heavily after feeling a pair of soft, cushioned lips against his own.

you were kissing him? did this mean you felt the same way?

he paused mid sentence and kissed you back, hands gently gripping your waist. you pulled his hair out of its bun and tangled your fingers in his strands, deepening the kiss.

sadly, breathing is a mandatory thing so the both of you eventually pulled back for air.

“does that answer your question?”

“wow. um…yeah definitely.” he placed his hand behind his head before continuing;

“i want to ask you right though, would you do me the honour of going on a date with me?”

you smiled at him brightly, bringing him into a tight hug.

“of course i would.”

—

soon enough one date turned into 3, and that evening, on top of a random skyscraper turned picnic setting, you became geto’s official girlfriend.

everything ran smooth, both parties were happy, and life was good.

until it wasn’t.

when the star plasma vessel riko died, geto’s persona changed. you noticed throughout the year you were dating how he changed, becoming more and more distant by the day, until the geto you once knew and loved was once again no more, only this time in a much more sour light.

nevertheless you stuck by him. 2 long years, hoping that he’d one day wake up and things would return back to normal.

that worked, right up until he grew tired of you. endless arguments and neglect on his part was bound to reach it’s breaking point.

“suguru please, i can’t keep doing this with you anymore. have you just forgotten about everyone who’s ever cared about you. what about satoru? what about me?”

he spared you one glance before turning his head back towards the end of the room.

“tell me this y/n, do you follow my beliefs? do you believe just as much as i do that humanity is scum and deserves to cease to exist?”

“suguru you know just as well as i do that you’re alone in that belief.”

he came closer, lifting your chin up with two fingers so he could look directly into your eyes, his own cold and devoid of emotion.

“so why am i wasting my time with you then?”

your eyes widened. as much as he had turned into a national dickhead, up till now he had never made it seem like your relationship was pointless.

he smirked at you and dropped his fingers from your chin, your head falling forward with them.

“let’s be clear y/n, until you can see it in yourself to take up my values, consider us done. don’t come looking for me. it won’t be friendly as it is now.”

you couldn’t do anything but stand there, confused how things came to be. one thing was evident though. geto wouldn’t change his mind. and with how he just disrespected you, you were reluctant to stay in his presence any longer.

and so, with a heavy heart and desolate mood, you walked away.

away from him and your crumbling relationship.

[iamjacksragingboner]

Overprotective Soap Part 2

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Mild NSFW, no smut

Part One

Part Three

A/N: Been fiddling around with this part two/collection of events for a couple days now, if this does poorly I'll actually do something drastic. Anyways enjoy whatever this is

After about a week of Johnny finding excuses to sleep over at yours, he eventually stopped looking for ways to weasel into your bed. You eventually gave up on caring about Johnny’s impromtu take over of your apartment, living under the impression that he was probably just over protective, and would leave once your foot was healed.

Under the guise of this optimism, you fell into a routine with Johnny, treating him a little like an overeager puppy, careful not to say or do anything that would trigger his desire to help you when you didn’t need to be aided. If you were lucky, you could put on the TV and sit with him for a while, and once you were sure he was enraptured by whatever was happening onscreen, you would sneak off to shower or get a breath of fresh air.

Johnny wasn’t stupid though—on the contrary, he was frighteningly intelligent—and he caught onto your tricks within about a week. To combat you sneaking off, he had begun to hold your hand whenever he was near you, his thumb idly tracing your knuckles as you both sat, your legs on his lap, and watched TV. Anytime he felt your hand slip from his, his eyes would flick to you expectantly, his head tilting in a manner not unlike a dog. Any innocence in the face of a dog was lost in Johnny’s knowing, almost taunting gaze.

“Need anythin’, lass?”

You cleared your throat, eyes darting to Johnny’s hand wrapping around yours once more, playing delicately with your fingers absentmindedly. “I just need to shower, that’s all.”

His eyes lit up, and you swore he started to salivate at the prospect.

“Alone,” you clarified, and he frowned.

“What if ye fall in the shower? I cannae be there to catch ye if I’m locked out now, lass, can I?”

You brushed off his concerns and stood, retracted your hand from his, and ignored the cold loss of contact. “I’ll be fine, Johnny. If I need anything, I’ll call out to you, I promise.”

Unluckily for you, this seemed to be the one time you actually needed Johnny’s help, as you slipped and took a tumble in the shower, knocking your head on the wall as you fell.

Within an instant, Johnny had forced the sliding door open with an almighty crash and rushed to your side. Falling to his knees, he ran his hands along you, eyes frantically scanning you for any sign of injury.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus, are ye hurt bonnie? Ye bleedin’? What’d ye do?”

You hissed in pain as you let Johnny’s hands take over you, for once taking comfort in his concern for you. “Fuck, my ass,” you said, wincing.

“That can be arranged later, but are ye in any pain currently?”

For a brief moment you forgot your pain as you rolled your eyes at the man before you, unsure whether to hit him in the face or the balls first. You were quickly brought back to reality as your head and foot throbbed in pain.

“Fell on my foot weird and bumped my head too, fuck that hurt like a bitch,” you spat, hand going to cup the side of your head, but Johnny's own hand beat you to it. His rough and calloused hand almost petted your hair, and you found yourself leaning into the touch. Your eyes met his, and a look of sheer affection and care passed over his eyes, making your heart momentarily stutter in your chest.

"Ye don't seem concussed to me, bonnie, but lets wrap ye up in a towel and get that foot propped up, an' I'll keep an eye on ye for the time bein'. That sound alright?"

You couldn't help but nod and for once accept the care that Johnny was offering you. For once he wasn't making (as many) lewd jokes, wasn't hovering over you like some sort of housefly, wasn't finding ways to bother you with his mild creepiness. You watched with tentative owl-like eyes as he turned off the shower and wrapped you in a towel, careful not to touch you anywhere he shouldn't, careful not to startle you as he lifted you.

He carried you as though you were precious cargo, cradled you with your head tucked into his chest as if he were rescuing you from a burning building and fuck, didn't that feel nice; to be cared for.

You felt almost empty when he placed you delicately in your bed, whining at the loss of contact and shivering at the lack of warmth.

"Ach, I ken, lass, I ken. I'll be there in a moment, don't ye worry yer bonnie little head," Johnny cooed, and you watched as he walked into the kitchen to grab ice for your foot, wrapping it up in a hand towel before propping it under your foot.

You sighed, for once not in annoyance, as he climbed into bed with you, tucking your body into his side and running his hand through your hair. Despite being naked in bed with a fully clothed man, for once you didn't feel uncomfortable around Johnny. You felt safe.

"Thanks, Johnny," you whispered, your heart stuttering once more as you felt his chest rumble in acknowledgment, his chin resting on your head.

Following this incident, you're less inclined to bat Johnny away as he hovers around you, his hands darting to your sides if you even slightly wobble. Of course, it doesn't make it any less annoying; you're mostly just happy to know it all comes from a place of genuine concern.

Showers are different now. Johnny has taken to getting in with you, with the excuse that your body is "nothin' I haven't seen before, lass, and I cannae have ye fallin' and hittin' yer head again now, can I?"

You supposed he was right to be concerned, but there was no way you were letting him stand in that tiny shower with you. At his towering height, you were sure his body would catch the majority of the water, and you'd leave the shower no cleaner than when you got in. Johnny instead had to settle for standing just outside the shower, blue eyes piercing through the glass screen of the shower and roaming all over your body whenever he felt you weren't paying attention to him. Licking his lips like a starved animal when you ran your hands along your breasts, the curve of your waist, the arch of your back, washing the soap suds from your body.

There were times when you'd felt a little adventurous, putting on a show for the man as you showered, dragging your hands along your body as though you were on stage, but never looking at Johnny. If you looked at him, you feared he'd know your game, know that you were doing this on purpose, doing this to taunt him.

He never reacted the way you expected. The minute you stepped out of the shower, patting yourself dry with your towel agonisingly slowly, he was out of the bathroom, out of your apartment and back in his own apartment, muttering to himself all the way, to go do god knows what. Was he flustered? Or was he that damn horny that he needed to leave the apartment you'd shared for a month now so that he could sort himself out? God only knew.

Roughly three months of this had passed, three months of a back and forth sexual tension that never seemed to amount to anything, and Johnny still hadn't left your apartment. Despite the fact that you were walking completely fine now, your foot confirmed via doctor and x-ray that it was healed, Johnny was still in your apartment.

You tried broaching the topic lightly, spouting nonsense to him about how happy you were that your foot was healed now. He shared in your joy of course, but didn't make any effort to budge from “his spot” on the couch. You continue onward, talking about how excited you were to get back to doing things for yourself, and how exhausted he must be from helping you for so long.

“Ah it’s no trouble, bonnie, no sweat off my back helpin' ye out.” The way he grinned at you suggested either he was completely oblivious to your attempts at getting him to leave, or he was well and truly aware but knew he had somehow already won this battle. You had no idea which it was.

Once you were sure he wouldn't take indirect, passive aggressive comments, you dropped the big guns. "My foot isn't broken anymore," you said, matter-of-factly one day, sitting across from Johnny at the table.

Johnny frowned, ducking under the table for a brief moment, before resurfacing once more. "Well, yer certainly not cut out tae be a detective, pretty sure it's been outta that boot for about a week or two now, lass."

You bit your cheek to keep from grinning, and soldier onwards. "So when are you moving out?"

Johnny's fork clatters to the table, and you fear he may even start to tear up, based on the look on his face. "Move out?" he sputters, getting up to walk around the table to you, placing his hands on the back of your chair and bending down to your eye level. "I cannae move out now, lass, not when yer in the most dangerous stage of healin' a broken bone!"

You raised a brow at the man. "The most dangerous stage?" you deadpanned. There was no way this man was serious. You were completely healed, the doctor had confirmed it to the pair of you—mostly to Johnny—multiple times.

"Of course, it's when the doctor tells ye yer healed that yer most likely tae break it again. Ye put too much trust in the bone and start bein' reckless, and all of a sudden yer on the floor again with a secondary fracture, and ye've kicked me out and ye cannae call for help and ye bleed tae death on the floor."

You blink up at Johnny, trying as hard as you can to find some sort of wriggle room that will create some space between you. "Johnny I promise you, I won't get up to anything reckless. I wasn't even a reckless person before the break, I doubt I’d go and do anything dangerous now.”

He clicked his fingers at you, eyes wide. "And that there's yer issue! Ye don't even need tae do anythin' reckless tae break a bone, lass; it happens in the blink of an eye!" He stood back up to his full height with his arms crossed and stared down at you with a steely gaze. "I'm stayin' right here, keepin' ye safe through this perilous period, whether ye think ye need it or not."

You begrudgingly drop it for a little, keeping a cautious eye on him as he continued to flit about your apartment through the days, cleaning as he went, cooking the two of you meals from the recipe book he'd bought recently, sitting across from you at the table and smiling warmly at you whenever you made eye contact, squeezing your hand as you sat on the couch together. There were times when he'd approach you from behind as you stood washing dishes in the kitchen. He'd wrap his arms around your middle and rest his chin on your shoulder just to watch you as you worked.

"You need anything?" You muttered to him, as he nosed at your neck.

His hands slipped to your waist and gave it a squeeze. "Nah," he murmured, his hot breath tickling your neck and making your own catch in your throat. "Just wanted to hold ye for a bit."

Over time, you begin to become suspicious that Johnny might have convinced himself that the two of you are dating, given the way he looks at you, the way he holds you, the way he cradles you in bed at night. With such constant close contact, even you begin to question whether you would consider this normal for neighbours to do. A voice in the back of your mind tells you it's very much not, and you should probably just bite the bullet and confront the situation head on, like that's ever going to happen. You were quick to silence that voice.

Johnny's obsession with keeping you as close as possible bleeds out into your trips out as well, always in contact with you somehow as you walk together to the park or the library, holding your hand as if you're his lifeline.

On the rare off-chance that he happened to briefly not be by your side one day, another man approached you, and you chatted absentmindedly. He seemed friendly enough, and you found yourself enjoying this casual conversation. You frowned when the colour seemed to suddenly drain from the man's face, his eyes staring up at something behind you.

You were reassured, if not a little dejected, to feel a familiar hand wrap around your own, knowing it was just Johnny behind you, and not some murderer.

"Ye mind steppin' back from my girl?" Johnny seethed, and the man put his hands up in surrender.

"All yours, pal. We were just chatting, honestly."

You felt bad for the guy, offering him an apologetic look as Johnny stared daggers at him.

"Just chattin, aye? Is eyein' her up 'just chattin'? Tryin tae stake yer claim on what’s not yers? I'm not daft, I know what ye were doin'. I best not see ye near my girl again, aye?"

You turned to Johnny, horrified at the prospect of him threatening someone over something as trivial as a conversation, and tried to apologise to the man as best as you could. "Sorry, he's not usually like this, I promise. He's actually a sort of okay guy once you get to know him, I swear."

The man looked incredulously between you and Johnny, before shaking his head. "You oughta put a leash on him," he muttered, giving Johnny a dirty look. "Fuckin guard dog of a man," he spat, before trudging away.

In an instant, you whipped around to look at Johnny, horrified. "What the fuck was that?"

Johnny shrugged, not meeting your gaze. "Didn't like the way he was lookin' at ye."

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand, steering the pair of you in the direction of our apartment your apartment. "Didn't like the way he was looking at me, honestly," you muttered under your breath, only feeling partly annoyed at Johnny scaring off some random guy you were happily speaking to. You promptly ignored the part of you that was quite happily turned on by the way Johnny so eagerly protected what he thought was his, and especially ignored the part of you that secretly enjoyed the idea. Being his.

What a strange thought.

[auras-moonstone]

high infidelity — ethan landry

word count: 1,910

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: y/n and chad are in a dying relationship and ethan brings y/n back to life.

warnings: cheating (try not to do that!). fluff (might be a bit cringey??). sexual tension.

author’s note: i’m sorry if this isn’t super great, but my inspiration left the chat this week and college has been super hard too :(

EVER SINCE LIV’S DEATH, CHAD HAD CLUNG ONTO Y/N AS IF SHE WAS THE LIFEBUOY THAT KEPT HIM FROM DROWNING. At first, she was thrilled because she had had a crush on him for way too long. But eventually, he started healing and slowly began to pull away from her, yet not quite letting go. It was a miserable place to be for Y/N, and she was left trying to hold onto the remaining pieces of the relationship that meant a lot to her.

Chad was the first person Y/N had ever loved, and she really thought it was going to last forever. Looking now, she cursed herself for being such a hopeless romantic and creating too much expectations for a teenage relationship, especially for being her first one. Hell, she had even followed Chad all the way to New York.

As soon as they stepped foot in the city, Y/N panicked. A new reason not to break up with him just entered the list—if she did, she would be alone, in an unknown city where she didn’t have anyone but him. Because that was the truth, while she really liked Mindy, Sam and Tara, they weren’t her family as much as they were Chad’s.

They included her in their plans, but that didn’t mean she felt part of the group. She would’ve felt really lonely if it weren’t for Ethan Landry, her boyfriend’s roommate, who understood her silences like no one else and made her days lit up with just the sight of his smile. Two introverted loners who found a safe place in the other.

Y/N’s name had been engraved on Ethan’s heart since the very first day he saw her. He was disappointed to find out her heart belonged to his roommate, but it didn’t take him long to realize that maybe that wasn’t quite true—yes, Chad held her heart, but it didn’t belong to him. It was obvious Chad didn’t love her enough, and it was slowly killing her.

It boiled Ethan’s blood. Chad didn’t realize he was lucky enough to have the most amazing girl in his arms and he had been taking her for granted and neglecting her. And Y/N didn’t realize Ethan was there, willing to lover her with all his heart and show her the appreciation she deserved, and instead she was dancing around the truth of her dying relationship. Why couldn’t she see him?

Yet everything changed on April 29th. As almost every Friday, Chad had dragged her girlfriend and best friend to a frat party despite their countless complaints.

“Chad, you know I don’t feel comfortable at these parties. It’s not my scenery. I can’t stand crowded places and loud music” Y/N continued to fight her case.

“Stop complaining for one day” Chad groaned. “Don’t be boring, it’s just for a couple of hours and I’ll be right there with you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, she wanted to yell so many truths. It made her a bit annoyed that Chad couldn’t understand she wasn’t being “boring”, she genuinely felt anxious and suffocated. She didn’t even understand why Chad wanted her there, considering that within the first five minutes he would leave her alone to talk to some frat boys or to get wasted.

“Hey, it’s fine. If you really can’t stand it, we’ll leave” Ethan said in a low voice, squeezing her shoulder in reassurance.

“Okay” she nodded, her body relaxing a bit. Why couldn’t Chad be more understanding?

CHAD DIDN’T EVEN WAIT FOR Y/N TO ENTER THE HOUSE BEFORE HE LOST HIMSELF IN THE CROWD OF PISSED PEOPLE. Once again, Y/N was left behind by him and if it weren’t for Ethan, she would have been completely alone in an unsettling place.

“Are you okay?” Ethan asked, noticing her tense shoulders.

“Just want the night to be over” she sighed. “I’m going to get a drink, you want one?”

“Sure” the boy nodded.

Pushing and shoving, she managed to get to the table filled with drinks. Knowing Ethan wasn’t really a huge fan of alcohol, she chose the less strong drinks. She turned around, cups in hand, ready to go back to Ethan when she slammed into a hard chest.

“Hey, gorgeous” a tall guy she didn’t know spoke. The strong scent of vodka invaded her nose and she couldn’t help but scrunch her nose in disgust.

“Um, hi. Could you move, please?” she asked politely.

“Dance with me” it wasn’t a question, more like a command.

She scoffed “Go bother someone else”

“Playing hard to get? I like it” he smirked, grabbing her waist. She tried to step back, not being able to do anything with her occupied hands, but the guy wouldn’t let her.

“Let me go” she glared up at him.

Before the unknown guy could respond, she was pulled away from him and new hands gripped her hips. This time, she leaned into the touch, recognising the strong male cologne coming from behind her. The protective and strong grip made her feel relaxed and secured, the way she always felt when he was around.

“Are you deaf? Back away from her” Ethan’s tone was new to her ears. It was confident, threatening and harsh. This side of Ethan was hot, and Y/N’s body grew warm.

“Sorry, didn’t know she had a boyfriend” the guy stepped back.

“Doesn’t matter if she has a boyfriend or not, she said no, so you walk away and leave her alone, got it?” Ethan spoke between his teeth. Once the guy left, his soft demeanour came back, but Y/N couldn’t stop replaying the way he had acted a few seconds ago. “Did he hurt you?”

Y/N shook her head, staring at him intensely. “Thank you” she said in a low tone. The lust she was feeling clouded all her senses, and it was hard to do anything but stare at him.

Her eyes spelled desire, and while Ethan could sometimes be oblivious, he was definitely not stupid. “You can’t look at me like that” his tone was a bit shaky.

“You are looking at me the same way, Ethan. That’s kinda hypocritical” she said, not taking her eyes off him as she took a sip from her drink.

He clenched his jaw and backed her into a corner. Her back collided harshly against the wall but that’s not why she gasped. One of Ethan’s thighs sneaked between hers, applying a bit of pressure to her heat. And if she hadn’t been aroused before, she definitely was now.

“You look so fucking hot tonight” he used that tone she recently discovered and was already a fan of.

Her hands gripped his biceps and her doe eyes almost made him collapse to the ground. Her look was one of need, but they also held sweetness and adoration and Ethan swore it was his downfall.

“Ethan” she said his name unlike ever before. She wasn’t just calling him, it was the recognition of something she had known for a while and was finally ready to admit.

“Yes?” he said hopeful. Their lips were close, yet not daring to touch. The desire was so strong that the gravity was becoming too much.

They were on a treacherous slope, and the smart thing would be to walk away but it felt like they were standing on quicksand. And while the path they were about to began was reckless, they knew it was worth it.

“I like you” she finally said.

The party and the people went out of focus in that moment. Ethan had dreamed about those words coming out of her mouth for so many months that finally hearing them in real life almost made him cry. He couldn’t help it, and before he realized what he was doing his lips captured hers.

It was like her heart started again, as if that kiss brought her back to life. Feelings Y/N thought were buried after her failed relationship with Chad had been slowly starting to make their way towards the surface once she began to spend time with Ethan. And now, right there in the dimly lit room, with music so loud it caused a migraine, and his body pressed against hers, they had finally reached the surface.

IN THE MORNING, Y/N WOKE UP WITH THE WEIGHT OF ETHAN’S BODY OVER HER. It took a few seconds for the memories to sink in, but once they did, her face broke into a smile. She looked down and had to fight the urge to grab her phone and take a picture—the boy had his face hidden on the crook of her neck as he breathed peacefully, his unfairly long eyelashes tickling her skin and his strong arm around her bare stomach. How could someone be that beautiful? Ethan was mesmerising and breathtaking, a literal angel.

He woke up a few minutes later, and his confused face was probably the cutest thing Y/N had ever witnessed. And then, when he caught sight of her, his entire being lit up and constellations appeared in his eyes.

“So it wasn’t a dream” he spoke with a raspy voice.

Y/N threw her head back laughing “Hi, you look really cute in the morning. I could get used to it.”

“I would love to get up like this every morning” he said with a lovey smile, “Though maybe we should talk about what we are going to do.”

Y/N nodded “Yeah. Well, I know I’m going to break up with Chad. But should I tell him about this… us?”

“He’s going to be furious, things are going to get awkward, and he’s probably going to hate us… but lying would be worse.” Ethan said, and she hummed in agreement. “Do you think I should be there? When you tell him, I mean.”

She thought about it for a second and then shook her head “I don’t think that’s a good idea. That might be too overwhelming for him”

Ethan nodded and silence filled the room for a few minutes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course” she relied softly.

“Are you sure about me? I mean, I’m not some kind of getaway car, am I?” Ethan asked, the insecurity in his voice broke Y/N’s heart.

“Eth, no. Absolutely not” she sat up, face expression as serious as her voice. “You know, before I met you, I thought I was in love with Chad. And then you came and made me feel at home, protected, at peace and you made me realize that while I do hold love for Chad, I’m not in love with him.”

“And… are you in love with me?” he asked unsure.

Y/N smiled and peck his lips. “I’m so in love with you that every time you’re around my chest feels like exploding”

Ethan finally smiled and pulled her to his bare chest so she could feel his heartbeats. “I’m in love with you, too, as you can tell. To be honest, I’ve known it since the first time I met you.”

“I’m sorry I made you wait for so long. If I hadn’t been so scared, maybe I would’ve realized it sooner. It was kinda obvious, though. You have become my happy place.”

“You say the sweetest things, you’re going to melt my heart, love” Ethan said, looking at her completely enamoured.

“I feel like I should warn you—I’m the clingiest, most cheesy and affectionate girl in the world.”

“Warnings taken, I’m still staying.”

“Are you sure? You still have the opportunity to ran away” she said with a teasing smirk.

“Why would I ran away from my happy place?”

[arealphrooblem]

A Lost Cause Part 2

Synopsis: The trusted keeper of all the Heroes' secrets, Civilian's existence is kept a tightly guarded secret itself. So how did the villain find her? And how will she withstand the attempts of his scientist to break her open and discover those secrets himself?

CW: nonconsensual drugging, medical whump, medical experimentation, needles/IV insertion, mentions wounds from torture, torture recovery, captivity

The anticipation of what might happen each time he walked into the room was almost worse than actual torture. His words ran on a loop in her head as she dozed in and out of deep sleep.

I am dying to create the tools that will break you open.

But each time he visited, he did nothing but check vitals, change bandages, survey her progress, feed her. Slowly she worked her way up from broth to solid food, from sleeping most of the day to sleeping at night, from needing a catheter to walking to the bathroom herself once the bottoms of her feet were healed (and that was not a fun day, no sir).

The scientist refused to answer her questions outright unless she offered up answers of her own. Each day they ended in a stalemate, which he seemed to find amusing.

He refused even his name. Eventually she just started calling him the doctor, because he treated her like one. Despite her captivity, despite the ominous warning Vanderbilt gave her in the interrogation room, despite her overwhelming vulnerability, he treated her with polite and patient professionalism.

She tried to give him the same courtesy. Whatever his future plans were, he had given her the space and time to heal back to full strength. She would make sure he regretted that. But first she had to look cooperative and weak.

A few days after shedding both the catheter and the bandages on her feet and thighs, the doctor strolled in not with his usual stethoscope, but with a clipboard and a pen.

Her gut did not like that.

“Your recovery is chugging along quite spectacularly,” he said, clicking the pen. “Which means we are almost ready to start the clinical trials. Of course, before I give you anything, I will need you to answer a few questions about your medical and family history.”

“Clinical trials for what?” she asked, feeling like she swallowed a stone.

“For my experiments, of course,” he said, as if it were obvious. “Why did you think I’ve been helping you recover? Pity? The goodness of my heart?”

“What experiments?” she demanded.

“Oh I have several in mind for you. But first, a few questions.”

“Sure, of course,” she said, deeply scathing. “Let’s make it easier for you to torture me. I’ll jump right on that.”

“You should, if you want greater chances of survival. I need to know your allergies, cancer risks, medications you’ve been on, previous surgeries, or else I could accidentally kill you. You’re a very special experiment. I’d rather not lose you so soon to such a preventable cause.”

It made her blood run cold, the casual way he voiced her probable death, as if  he equated it with the disappointment of prematurely expired raspberries. An inconvenience, but there’s always more.

The worst part was that he had a point. What would be the purpose of her team rescuing her in a blaze of glory if she had died of anaphylactic shock?

So through gritted teeth, she answered all of his medically relevant questions. He wrote each down dutifully on his clipboard.

“And your name?” he asked finally.

She pursed her lips into a thin line and glared at him. He nodded.

“Not today, then. No worries. That will be the first thing you give me with the success of my first experiment.”

A knot formed in her stomach. “What’s the first experiment?” she couldn’t help but ask.

He smiled enigmatically. “You’ll find out when the time comes.”

She waited a few minutes after the door shut before she tip-toed to the window. The only thing she could see outside was a sheer cliff and water for miles. Probably the ocean, but she couldn’t open the window to tell. It was nailed shut.

Wherever she was, it looked far from civilization. Maybe that was why, after what had to be at least a month if not more, that her team hadn’t found her yet. They were city people. Superheros rarely had to venture into the rural countryside, let alone a place this remote.

Such reassurances did not cure the unease in the back of her mind that something didn’t add up.

Now that she had recovered, fatigue did not weigh her down so much and boredom began to creep in it’s place. The doctor offered her a handful of novels, mostly pulp scifi and dystopian literature. She read them and re-read them so often she could quote passages from each one. When the doctor finally appeared in her room with a small, rolling table of syringes and an IV needle, the jolt of adrenaline was almost euphoric in the face of the mind numbing monotony of her days.

“You seem eager for our first experiment,” the doctor said with a bemused quirk of his lips.

“Ecstatic,” she deadpanned, ignoring the jolt in her heart. “I can’t wait for you to kill me with whatever ungodly chemical is in that.”

He chuckled, pushing the cart next to her bed.  “You’re right in that God has nothing to do with what I create. But it is not my goal to kill you —  the opposite in fact. I try to limit risks as much as possible. There is only one you, after all.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

“Is it not?” It was almost comical how he blinked at her in innocent confusion.

She just glared at him in return, which he cheerfully ignored as he slipped the latex gloves on with a snap. He even hummed a little as he pulled open the packaging for the IV needle and the alcohol wipe.  

Meanwhile her gut churned and frothed in horrible anticipation. She had gone through literal torture but this scared her more. When knives or brands or electric cattle prods came out, at least she knew what they did. No one knew what would happen as a result of this experiment, not even him. At least the goal of torture was to keep you alive as long as possible. These experiments could kill her. These could be her last living moments.

Fear tainted her every breath but just as she did in the face of her torturers, she refused to let it show on her face. Instead she stared resolutely out the window, at the glint of the water in the sunlight.

“Deep breath,” he murmured just before she felt the sharp pain of the IV needle.

Her gaze darted to him, drawn like a magnet to the sight of him tapping the air bubbles from the syringe. Nausea roiled inside her.  She fought hard against the urge to rip the IV out before he could inject the serum. Instead, she could only watch in horrified resignation as it flowed through the IV drip.

“And now we wait,” he said, flashing her that polite smile, as if they were sitting in a doctor’s office.

He removed his dark tinted glasses and sat down at the love seat.

“We wait?” she cried. “Wait for what?”

The anticipation of the IV alone nearly drove her mad and now this?

He shrugged. “Ideally your mind should relax into an altered state where you forget you’re not supposed to keep your secrets and you tell me whatever information I desire. However, that didn’t work well back with Vanderbilt and I’m not expecting much success this time. I just want to see how you react to these sorts of chemicals.”

“So you’re just fucking around with my brain?”

“In a manner of speaking, I suppose.” He crossed his legs and tapped his thumbs on his knees, the picture of nonchalance. She never wanted to hit him so much.

“What if it does nothing? What if you failed?”

“Failure is just important data I didn’t have before. I’m not afraid of failure.”

You should be she thought bitterly.

But of course it wasn’t his life on the line.

When the effects hit her, it wasn’t nothing. All the muscles in her body locked up and spasmed. She could do nothing but writhe in the bed and scream. It felt worse than all her other torture combined.

By the time she finally blacked out, she couldn’t scream anymore.

[swiftieblyth]

Tangled start

warnings- long but cute

a/n- feel free to skip some of the dialogue, it’s mostly the Tangled script, just Tom and Y/N. Don’t worry, not the full movie

You and Tom were in the recording studio, it was the first day and you were going to do voiceovers and songs.

You were so excited to sing with Tom. Not just at home or karaoke. Tom didn’t give himself enough credit when it came to singing.

“Okay,” the director called from the other side of the glass with headphones on, knocking you out of your thoughts, as you and Tom stood up. “Okay, Tom how about you start with your opening monologue then we’ll go from there.”

“Cool.” Tom smiled, walking to the microphone, as you sat back down, ready to watch him.

“Ready when you are,” the sound guy said.

“This is the story of how I died,” Tom started in his American accent. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him. “Don’t worry, this is actually a very fun story. And the truth is, it’s not even mine. This is the story of a girl named Repunzal. And it starts, with the sun.

Now once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens. And from this small drop of sun grew a magic, golden, flower. It had the ability to heal the sick, and injured. Oh, you see that old woman over there? You might want to remember her. She’s kind of important. Well, centuries passed and a hop skip and a boat ride away there grew a kingdom. The kingdom was ruled by a beloved king and queen. And the queen, well she was about to have a baby, and she got sick, really sick. She was running out of time. And that’s when people usually start looking for a medical. Or in this case, a magic golden flower. Ahh, I told you she’d be important. You see, instead of sharing the Sun’s gift, this women, Mother Gothel, hoarded its healing power and used it to keep herself young for hundreds of years. And all she had to do was sing a special song.

All right, you got the gist. She sings, she turns young. Creepy, right?

The magic of the golden flower heals the queen. A healthy baby girl, a princess was born,” Tom explained looking at you, which made you smile even more. “With beautiful golden hair. I’ll give you a hint. That’s Repunzal. To celebrate her birth, the King and Queen lunched a flying lantern into the sky. For that one moment, everything was perfect. And then, that moment ended.

Gothel broke into the castle and stole the child. And just like that…gone. The Kingdom searched and searched, but they could not find the princess. For deep within the forest, in a hidden tower, Gothle raised the child as her own.

Gothel had found her new magic flower. But this time she was determined to keep it hidden.

Butt the walls of that tower could not hide everything. Each year, on her birthday, the king and queen released thousands of lanterns into the sky in hope that one day, their lost princess would return.”

“Cut!”

“Tommy, that was amazing!” You smiled, getting up to walk to him.

“Thank you my love,” he smiled, kissing your cheek as you hugged him.

“It was so beautiful, my very own Flynn Rider.” You smiled, kissing his lips.

💜💜💜

“Okay, and now for the final monologue, Y/N, you’re in this too.”

“Okay,” you smiled, as you and Tom walked over to the mic.

“Well,” Tom started in his American accent. “You could imagine what happens next. The kingdom rejoiced. The lost princess had returned. The party lasted an entire week. And, honestly, I don’t remember much of it. Dreams came true all over the place. That guy went on to become the most famous concert pianist in the world. And that guy? Well he eventually found someone to love. As for this guy, well, I assume he’s happy. He’s never told me otherwise. Thanks to Maximus, crime in the kingdom disappeared almost over night. As did most of the apples. Pascal, never changed. At last Rapunzal was home, and she finally had a family. She was a Princess worth waiting for,” Tom smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist, making you smile. “But above all, she lead her kingdom with all the grace and wisdom that her parents did before her. And as for me, well. I started to go by Eugene again. Stopped thieving, basically turned it all around. But I know what the big question is; did Rapunzel and I ever get married? Well I’m please to tell you. After years, and years of asking, and asking, and asking. I finally said yes.”

“Eugene,” You let out, rolling your eyes.

“All right,” Tom cut in, tickling your rib. “I asked her.”

“And we’re living happily ever after,” you smiled, looking up at him, so see his baby blue eyes looking at you.

“Yes we are.” Tom said, leaning down to give you a kiss.

“And cut!” The director yelled. “Great job!”

You and Tom pulled away from each other and took to your headset. You opened the door and walked out and were met by Lady running up to you both.

Her little tail was wagging, and her tongue was out, as she jumped up on yours and Tom’s legs.

“Hi, darling,” Tom smiled, picking her up. Lady barked and licked his face.

“Hi, my sweet girl,” you smiled, kissing her, and rubbing your face against hers.

[suspensefulpen]

Whumpcember Day 21: Choking

TW: Choking, Bad Caretaker

@whumpcember

Whumpee flinched and whimpered in pain as Caretaker cleaned the fresh open wounds across their body. “Caretaker, I—” 

“No. I don’t want to hear it.” She frowned. She wiped the last wound and discarded the cotton ball in the small bin next to her. She grabbed a new cotton ball and put ointment over it as she shook her head. “I’m sick of hearing it.” 

“Caretaker, I swear—” 

“Just stop it Whumpee. Your lies and excuses aren’t doing anything.” She glared at them and began rubbing the ointment over their wounds.  “You’re hurting yourself and you’re trying to say Whumper is hurting you. And I know he’s not. When will you ever stop lying? Whumper would never hurt anyone.” 

“But—” 

“Enough.” Caretaker stopped applying the ointment and stood from her spot in front of the sofa. Seeing the pure fury in her eyes made Whumpee shrink back into the cushions of the seat. “Enough with the excuses Whumpee. No matter how much you try to twist it and say he’s hurting you, I’m not going to believe you. So stop lying and trying to make me stop being with Whumper because it’s not going to happen.” 

Tears filled Whumpee’s eyes as Caretaker picked up all of the medical supplies and the small bin. They watched nervously as she left the room, almost stomping. Caretaker had never been this angry with them before. She didn’t even bother leaving any bandages. What if she eventually kicked them out? Then what? What if they ended up dying at the hands of her beloved Whumper? Would she believe them then? Would she ever believe them? What if she started to hate Whumpee? 

“What a shame.” 

They raised their gaze and found Whumper leaning against the doorway. He seemed completely relaxed, his hands in his pockets and even a small smile on his face. 

“Seven months ago, I thought you and Caretaker were like this.” He crossed his middle finger over his pointer finger. “But now, you’ve completely lost her trust. You’re lying to her, you’re hurting yourself, you’re doing everything you can to get rid of me. And yet, you’re failing miserably.” 

“I’m not lying and we both know that.” Whumpee frowned. 

“You are lying. You know you are.” Whumper stepped forward. Whumpee began scooting backwards, hoping they’d go through the sofa so they could turn and run away. They quickly realized this wasn’t going to happen when Whumper crouched down in the same spot Caretaker had just been in. He lowered his voice, his eerie smile still present. “You know, Caretaker told me she felt like you didn’t want her to be happy. So you’re doing everything you can to get me out of the picture. And she’s seeing right through it.” 

Whumpee’s tears began to flow down their cheeks. Caretaker really felt like that? She felt like Whumpee didn’t want her to be happy? She genuinely believed that? How could Whumpee do such a thing? Wait…but it wasn’t their fault. They aren’t the ones inflicting the wounds onto themself. It was Whumper. 

Whumpee frowned in spite of their tears. “You’re lying! She didn’t say that!” 

“Am I? Would you like evidence for proof that I’m not?” Whumper reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through it for a moment before showing Whumpee a video. 

Caretaker and Whumper were in the kitchen. Their backs were turned to the camera as they stood at the marble island. 

“I just feel like…they don’t want me to be with you. Like they hate you. Or…they just don’t want me to be happy with you.” Caretaker’s voice cracked. “And they know how hard everything has been for me lately… It’s like they want me to revolve everything around them…” 

Whumper stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her as she began to sob into his chest. “It’s okay. They’re probably just jealous. But I understand, you feel like it’s hard to get away from the pain and they’re not making it any better. Healing takes a while, and they might not understand that, but I do. I’ll always be here when you need me.” 

“Thank you Whumper…” She sniffed. 

Whumpee sat frozen as many emotions filled their mind. Shock, guilt, sadness. How could they do such a thing? How could they make Caretaker feel like they didn’t want her to be happy? 

“That wasn’t even the full conversation.” 

“There’s more?!” Whumpee asked, horrified. 

“Of course there’s more. There’s always more.” Whumper smirked. “Not to mention, this was months ago.” 

“Months?!” 

“Months of you continuously making the one person you had left think you don’t want good things for them. I’ve warned you once Whumpee, don’t let me have to warn you again.” He leaned close to their ear, lowering his voice to a whisper. “You keep this up and I just might have you disappear one day. Even Caretaker won’t bother to look for you. I’ll make sure she’s angry with you so she’ll stop caring and eventually put you out. By that point, she won’t give you a second thought. And Caretaker will be mine and mine only.” 

Whumper took Whumpee’s hands and wrapped them around their throat, stopping any oxygen from flowing into their lungs. Whumpee began squirming to remove their hands. But with Whumper holding them down so tightly, they couldn’t move at all. They did everything they could to get even the slightest bit of oxygen but they couldn’t. They were uselessly gasping for air. The more they struggled, the weaker they felt. They began to see black spots at the edges of their vision as Whumper began whispering again. 

“Stay the hell out of my way.”

[theleechyskrunkly]

Hihi! For yours:

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

Thank you for the ask Seris! :D

Aurinelle: Hmm, Aurinelle handles wounds like a champ, at least physically. He could have a pretty deep wound and have basically zero to no reaction to it, though this is also rather dangerous considering it often turns into “I don’t need to treat it, it’ll heal on its own” situation almost all the time. He’s very dismissive about physical damage to himself and often refuses to go to the doctor or nurse, which could eventually lead to a major infection because he’s not getting proper treatment.

While he does have a lot of mental and emotional wounds, his physical wounds are far more abundant, even if they’re not visible at plain sight. He has several deep wounds and cuts on his back, his legs, a permanent bruise that circles his neck which he hides with makeup, and a especially massive gash wound on the left side of his stomach from a life and death confrontation years ago (yes this is all new info).

That gash is his worst physical wound to this time, and the worst emotional and mental wound was probably his separation with his family. His mental state was left permanently damaged and agitated after that.

Paige: Minor physical wounds? He’ll just walk those off. Major physical wounds? He’ll try to walk those off, but will probably start panicking if there’s a lot of blood or a broken bone and will start crying while trying to get his shit together.

Paige’s wounds are mostly mental, from being called a fake fae for not having wings like his mom, to having his trust broken by an adult meant to look after him and her carelessness nearly costing him his life, to being trampled on and almost killed by ignorant people with no awareness to their surroundings. Yeah, this guy’s mentality is as wounded as it can get without him absolutely fucking losing it. But music is therapy so we ball 😝

Worst physical wound experienced was when his leg broke after being stampeded over and having his little kid body absolutely trampled by several adults trying to get a picture with his mum. He walks with a bit of a permanent limp now.

Worst emotional wound? Probably the time his parents accidentally left him behind during one of their almost yearly movings (they thought he was in the backseat). Poor kid nearly lost his mind and swore his parents just didn’t love him, thankfully he knew the neighbors at least enough that they’d be nice enough to let him stay till his parents came back. Worst mental wound was probably the time he drowned, he’s basically hydrophobic now.

Yuiishi: She wants to cry so bad but will hold back tears because crying is fucking embarrassing. She’s not afraid of blood or anything, but she hates being hurt so she has a pretty negative reaction to wounds.

Her wounds are mostly emotional, coming from a toxic religious household where her own opinions are oppressed, she’s always in a constant emotional turmoil.

The worst physical wound she’s ever experienced was probably either accidentally twisting her ankle while roller skating, or that one time she fell off her bike and the handle pierced through her stomach and left a permanent scar.

Worst emotional wound was when she heard her mom being extremely homophobic and judgmental, any thoughts she ever had about coming out shattered right then and there. Worst mental wound would be…. Uh, actually I’ll leave this one out for now. A little too much lore drop.

Tagging: @thehollowwriter @elenauaurs @tixdixl @cyanide-latte @distant-velleity @lumdays (ask to be added or removed)

[story-telling]

⛓️Always in our hearts,⛓️ ⛓️⛓️and our heads⛓️⛓️⛓️

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Hiiii!! I’m writing a fanfic at the moment and I’m thinking of updating it weekly! (If anything differs I’ll post about it) please please give this a read because it took a long time and I hope you all enjoy it!!

——————————————————————————

Chapter 1:

Healing externally

Lawrence drags his nearly lifeless body across the disgusting sewer floor, gasping for air due to the blood loss leaving his head woozy. His stump dragging across the floor, scraping against the concrete with every movement, up ahead he saw a door, it wasn’t locked. Freedom, he thought to himself as he suddenly regained energy to pull himself that little bit further. He spit some blood out from his mouth and gritted his teeth through the pain, his oozing stump rubbed against some broken glass and he winced in pain, fearful to make a noise in case anyone heard him escaping.

Eventually he reached the door, pushing it open with one free hand while the other pushed himself up to push the bar down to release the lock. Fresh air. Natural light. Wind. The traffic. Everything he had ever taken for granted he was finally relieved to see again. He pushed even further to get back to civilisation, just one person needed to see him and he could get help. And that’s exactly what happened, a woman walking her dog managed to come across him as he weakly asked for help. She immediately dropped to her knees to check over Lawrence and called an ambulance.

Just a few moments later he could hear the whirring of the sirens, luckily it was a quiet place so there was no crowds. Only people hoisting him onto a gurney and reassuring him everything would be okay, one of the paramedics tried to put an oxygen mask on but before they could he batted their hand away and tried to tell them about Adam but nothing was coming out. The blood loss had left him speechless and half dead. adam. Adam. ADAM. ADAM. Was the only thing floating around his head. He struggled with the paramedic while they tried to get his oxygen mask on for about three minutes

“help. Him.” Was the only words he could mutter out before completely passing out. Leaving him unconscious.

The paramedics called the police to investigate the building while they rushed Lawrence to the hospital, he didn’t remember much from then on. Only occasionally drifting in and out of consciousness and feeling the jitter of the ambulance and the sounds of the gurney clashing together, the sirens still whirring. Eventually he lost consciousness again and everything went black. It felt as though his heart stopped and everything was peaceful at last, these last eight hours were utter hell, he was glad to be at peace. Even if he did think he was dead.

All of a sudden he woke up again, in a hospital bed. Bright fluorescent lights almost blinding him, the beeping of his IV drip and the smell of latex and disinfectant. He looked down to see his stump covered in a red blood soaked bandage and studied his surroundings, it all started to click together. The ward, the staff, the reception. This was Angel of mercy. The hospital he works at, or well. Did work at, he never in his life thought he would be a patient in his own hospital.

“This must be how my patients feel” he said to himself in a dry, raspy voice. He leaned over and took a sip of water from the cup left on the table next to him, looking over to the blue curtains. He saw a figure behind them and his heart raced started to increase, he swallowed his water with a loud gulp as he saw the figure move and open the curtain, revealing a tall, skinny woman with black hair and a doctor’s uniform on with a wedding ring on her right hand.

“Hello, I’m Lynn Denlon. I’m going to be your doctor for the time being so I will be your main port of call for any emergencies or enquiries about your recovery Mr…uhm…” she flicks through her clipboard notes to find her patients name and looks up. “Lawrence Gordon…” she smiles and looks at him putting her clipboard on the table, her head tilts to the left a little and she sighs “what could of possibly happened to you for you to be in here?”

Lawrence’s eyes closed sharply as his mind raced through everything that had occurred in that god forsaken bathroom. The blood, the smell, the tape, the saw. His eyes opened wildly once more and a horrified look appeared on his face.

“Adam…” he said quietly to himself. “Did they find Adam?”

Lynns brows furrowed in confusion and sat in the edge of the bed “who’s Adam? Surely I would have thought you would be more caring for your wife and daughter” she raises her eyebrows and smirks and the doctor.

Lawrence bites his tongue, he knew he didn’t have the energy to fight this battle “oh yes, I almost forgot to ask. How are you and Jeff getting on?”

Lynns face falls as she swallows and grits her teeth, her eye twitches as she rapidly gets up and grabs her clipboard “have a smooth recovery. Doctor.” She exits the room in one swift motion, almost slamming the door in her rage.

Sure it was a cheap shot but she had it coming Lawrence thought to himself as he took another sip of water.

Some time passes and Lawrence feels his eyes close heavily, he couldn’t believe how exhausted he was but every time he closed his sleepy eyes all he could think about was those eight disgusting hours, Adam’s screams and the pain. Oh my god the pain he thought while sitting upright and straining his neck to see if anyone was out there, a few moments later a police officer and detective knock on the glass door as he grants them entry with a swift motion of his hand.

The detective appeared with dark hair and a large build, his face almost looked familiar, Lawrence had to bargain with himself whether the detective had lip fillers due to them being so plump, the detective smiled at Lawrence and he smiled back.

“Good evening Doctor, I am Detective Hoffman. The lead on this case of your unfortunate events, unfortunately we are still running tests to try and gather any information we can about it but so far we are yet to find anything. The person who did this must be… very smart and efficient” He paused for a moment and smiled to himself.

Lawrence looked up and took a deep breath in “what about Adam? Did you find him? Is he alright?” His eyes pleading for a good response, or any response at this point.

The detective hung his head and sighed “I’m sorry doctor, Adam stanheight was already deceased when we found him. We could not resuscitate him, however we did go to his apartment to look things over and it turns out he had a cat, we either take it to a shelter or you can adopt it. You don’t have to make the choice now, god knows you have made many choices recent…”

“Wait. Just wait a minute…Adam’s dead?…” Lawrence’s eyes filled with tears as his face turned angry and sad. “You’re wrong. He can’t be. I promised him. I promised…” The detective sat on the chair across from him and Lawrence looks at him as his eyes darkened into a cold stare “you’re wrong”

“I beg your pardon?” Hoffman questioned as his eyebrows raised

“You’re wrong. You’re all wrong, this is wrong. He isn’t dead. I saw him before I left” Lawrence started to get worked up as he started sweating and hyperventilating

“You can take a trip down to the morgue if you’d like. And you would see his cold dead body” Hoffman stood up and looked at the doctor.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP” Lawrence shouted at him, a nurse came in and asked the police to leave the hospital and they did as they were asked. The nurse administered medication to calm Lawrence to prevent his heart rate increasing, she filled his cup up with more water and elevated his foot with the remote to move the bed. “Now you get some rest Lawrence. We need you to be better so we can get you home and safe” she smiled and left the room.

To be continued…🩸🩸🩸

[maikingsenseofit]

The problem with Zutara: Katara through the lens of Zuko

In this last part, we debunked the claims that a lot of the symbolism and imagery in the show represented Zvtara, when they very clearly paralleled Kataang. The next part of this meta addresses claims that Zuko and Katara knew each other and cared for each other more than their canonical partners, and I couldn’t wait to get into this. You see, on a surface level and with very cherry picked scenes, anyone can try and make that case. And I’m not going to deny the significance of their eventual beautiful friendship. However let’s analyze how much Zuko and Katara really understood each other, and if they really cared for one another or made a better fit for each other more than Mai or Aang. I’ll be referencing common Anti-Maiko/Anti-Kataang arguments here.

During the Crossroads of Destiny episode, we witness something remarkable. Two people, torn apart by a war, brought together by circumstance. And Katara does something even more amazing, for the first time she sees Zuko not as an enemy, but as a boy whose circumstances have taken a great toll on him too. He’s not just the face of the enemy. He lost his mother too. And she does something even more incredible, she offers to heal Zuko’s scar with her precious spirit water, even though he had wronged her and her friends, chased them relentlessly, almost killed them sverral times, taunted her over a precious token from her mom, you get the story. So despite having no obligations, she reaches out and takes a chance on him.

They’re eventually pulled apart. Katara later realizes that her efforts and empathy did not mean anything to Zuko, as despite it all, he still sides with his sister in an effort to gain his precious honor. Meaning, contrary to popular belief, that at this moment he did not care enough about Katara to choose her amity over his personal quest. Hell, he thought betraying his own uncle was worth it in the quest for honor. So why is this important?

Because not once when Zuko returns to the fire nation, does he express any guilt over betraying Katara personally. Not once do we see him take the second to remember the pain he inflicted upon her, which is even more poignant because she was the first person to trust him, to broach that divide across enemy lines, and to offer something so precious to her to heal him. We see Zuko agonize about betraying his uncle throughout his time, but not Katara. Sure, he was in anguish over trying to be someone he wasn’t in the fire nation, but the audience never once sees Zuko remember or mention the water tribe girl through the lens of her significant act of bravery and compassion. Even more, he only remembers their interaction in the context of how the Avatar could be alive - and how this further jeopardizes his position as Ozai’s son.

So much for thinking about the water tribe girl who put herself at risk to help you, huh Zuko. (Btw I’m not actually hating on him and nor do I think this makes him a bad character or bad fit with Mai, I’m just pointing out some glaring misconceptions about how he thinks of Katara)

And this becomes all the more evident when Katara doesn’t immediately accept him into the group. Zuko is actually bewildered by the fact that she doesn’t become friends with him as immediately as the rest of the Gaang. But the cherry on top is when Zuko has the audacity to get upset and frustrated with Katara, exclaiming

“This isn't fair. Everyone else seems to trust me now. What is it with you?”

It’s here. Plain as day and written in text. Zuko could not even remember the most pivotal aspect of the start of his relationship with Katara, the one that shippers claim has even more poignance and development than any scene from the canon ships. What Katara is so clearly hurt and impacted by, so much so that she was the only one to initially remain distrustful of Zuko when everyone else wasnt, and constantly verbalized that distrust - did not even hold the same weight to Zuko. It was a fleeting moment to him on his journey to find and redeem himself, but represented everything to Katara. And it shows on her face and in her words when she says this next:

And the cherry on top of the cherry on top of this is that when Zuko enters Sokka’s tent, he STILL can’t fathom why Katara hates him.

Zuko: Your sister, she hates me! And I don't know why! But I do care what she thinks of me.

WAIT. DIDNT Zuko JUST hear Katara when she said he betrayed the precious trust she placed in him? How his actions led to her witnessing the death (and revival) of her best friend? How he relentlessly attacked her in the cave after almost immediately forgetting her compassion? And it must be asked at this moment why Zuko cares about what Katara thinks of him. Because even At this point, he still fails to acknowledge the extent that his actions had on her.

Had Katara never taken the chance to verbalize her feelings, Zuko would have carried on with the Gaang, not being aware of or having more remorse over his personal betrayal to Katara. Would Zuko have come to this realization himself if Katara never explicitly told him? If it didn’t impede his ability to form a strong alliance with everyone in the Gaang in order to work together to take down Ozai?

And that’s when I become puzzled over statements like “Zuko cared about Katara and understood her on a way deeper level than Aang ever did.” Because what we see her is quite the opposite of that. Zuko only remembered Katara’s spirit water and how it put a wrench in his plans, but couldn’t remember Katara herself. He couldn’t couldn’t recall his betrayal of her in the cave, couldn’t understand her initial hatred even after she pointed it out, and used the opportunity to hunt her mother’s killer to redeem himself in her eyes. Something that would have never happened until the narrative called for it.

Speaking of the last part, the other common Zvtara argument I see is “Zuko understood Katara’s pain and allowed her to feel it. Aang shut it down.”

At this point it’s becoming a game of selective ignorance. Because the shippers will claim that “Aang compared something as serious as Kya’s death to the trivial temporary loss of an animal” without acknowledging the literal next thing he says, which is:

“How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people?”

Which IS a fair comparison. Aang mentions the genocide of his family to empathize with Katara’s loss of her mother.

And they also pretend that Aang shut Katara down completely in order to force his values down her throat and discourage her from going on the trip, which is in blatant ignorance of when Aang says this:

“I wasn't planning to. This is a journey you need to take. You need to face this man. [Katara situates herself on Appa's head.] But when you do, please don't choose revenge. Let your anger out, and then let it go. Forgive him.”

And Yeah, Katara chose not to forgive her mothers killer. As she should. But let’s not forget what she does at the end, which is to let her anger out and then let it go. She ultimately did not choose revenge. And Aang knows this.

Because Aang witnessed Katara cry in regret when she learned about blood bending, something Zuko never witnessed. And he knows the toll that killing a person would take on Katara, someone who is inherently compassionate and wishes to see the good in everyone. Who was willing to put aside the injustices she faced at the hands of the Fire Nation to truly help the enemy she had every right to hate, like how she helped the village as the Painted Lady and reached out to Zuko in the cave. Something else Zuko never truly grasps till much later, because why else was it so hard for him to remember her poignant compassionate act?

And lastly, when Zuko blocks Azula’s lightning strike directed at Katara. While a lot of shippers claim, as they are free to do so, that Zuko did this because of his profound and undying love for Katara and that he couldn’t fathom living in a world without her, I can’t help but think back to this post where Zuko would have done the exact same thing if it was any member of the Gaang in her position. Much less that, but do you think he would hesitate to throw himself in front of Azula if it was Mai in Katara’s position?

Because it doesn’t matter who it was. As part of Zuko’s final act of redemption, he realizes that true honor comes from doing the right thing, not for personal validation. The reason for Katara’s presence isn’t romantic - but it exists narratively because this is the same girl he betrayed to join his sister in order to validate himself in his father’s eyes. Emphasis on HIMSELF. But after this entire journey, it doesn’t matter whether Zuko lives or dies. Because at this moment, Zuko realizes that saving the world and doing the right thing is worth more than a trivial Pat on the back from his father. There is a lot of poignance from the authors choosing Katara to be there, instead of Toph or even Momo. But to say that this act is because Zuko had this undying romantic love for Katara that was never fully realized is undermining his whole arc.

As I’m writing this I realize that my qualm isn’t about people shipping Zvtara in the first place. I too have such ships. But it’s the fact that people who ship them use this a tool to further the agenda that Zuko never loved and cared about Mai as much as he did Katara or Katara with Aang . I remember reading this post from a blog called the crooked pen when I initially joined the fandom, who attempted to upholster Zvtara through this argument:

Now literally replace that second sentence with Katara. Not once does Zuko mention Katara after Ba Sing Se during the time he was at the fire nation. He only remembers their interaction as an obstacle preventing him from reaching his goal. He obsesses over his betrayal of Iroh for a great deal, however. And This is after Katara willingly put herself at risk, knowing the consequences, by extending the olive branch and almost giving him her spirit water to heal. And people want to convince me that he had this unfulfilled, undying love for Katara that he never had for Mai, despite him taking the extra precautions to protect her physically through a letter, even if it meant hurting her and himself emotionally, and literally giving us the biggest smile we had ever seen from him when he mentioned her?

Which makes this second part even more frivolous because there’s a reason why he cares about the opinion of water tribe girl, and it’s not because he’s deeply and irrevocably in love with her and has much more to do with it being the last piece of the puzzle of a strong alliance, built on trust, to take down evil, once and for all.

Also please refer to @thethiefandtheairbender’s post about him “forgetting” her in prison, when in reality she was freed before everyone formally was at his coronation.

Anyways, this is one of the reasons why I personally never saw the potential in what people claim to be infinitely better than the original canon ships. The next part is Zuko through the lens of Katara. Let me know your thoughts!

[trashyswitch]

When Ash is Alone

After leaving his Pokémon to heal at the Pokémon center, Ash is left completely alone for the first time in years. Loneliness causes Ash to follow a Stuffel through the forest, where he finds a cave with...Team Rocket?!

This fanfic was suggested by @nico-ticklegoddess12 on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy!

It had just been a 10 minute trip to the Pokémon centre. The battle he lost, had wiped out his entire team…and as a result, Ash had given all of his Pokémon to Nurse Joy so they can heal and get better. With the others busy shopping, Ash decided to spend some time alone. Ash sat himself down against a palm tree, flipping through his pokédex. He knew his Pokémon were fine, but he felt somewhat lonely. 

This was the first time he had been completely alone in a while…And if he was honest, It felt unusually quiet. No Pokémon to spend time with, meant he was stuck in his own thoughts. The silence was deafening…the natural sounds that filled the Alola region, felt louder than ever. Isn’t silence supposed to make you feel tranquil or peaceful? If that’s the case, then why does he feel tense and uneasy? 

Ash looked around himself for a moment, and noticed a little creature running around in the middle of the town. “Huh?” Ash put his  pokédex away. “What is that?” Ash asked next. 

The creature jumped up and down, almost in a frantic plea for help. “What’s wrong?” Ash asked. The stuffel started whimpering and whining, almost frantic in its movements. Sensing something was up, Ash got up from the palm tree and started to walk up to the creature. “Are you lost?” Ash asked, getting closer so he could help it. 

Now, this creature looked oddle familiar to Ash…And now that he was closer, Ash could figure out why that is: this creature looked like an infant version of the bewear he had seen in the forest when he first arrived on Melemele island! Managing to get a few inches closer, Ash pulled out his pokédex. “Let’s see…” Ash opened the pokédex and let it scan the Pokémon. 

“Stuffel! Normal/fighting Pokémon. Despite its adorable appearance, when it gets angry and flails about, its arms and legs could knock a pro wrestler sprawling.” The pokédex said aloud to him. 

“Oh wow…” Ash widened his eyes. “A small creature like you, can do that?!” He asked. 

The stuffel whimpered and whined, before scraping its paw onto the ground. 

“You must be missing your mama.” Ash reacted. 

The stuffel let out another cry, putting its tail between its legs. “Poor thing…” Ash mumbled softly. “Do you need help finding your mama?” Ash asked. 

Suddenly, the stuffel squealed and jumped up onto its legs! It was like the stuffel understood Ash! 

“Alright! I’ll help!” Ash declared. 

Stuffel cheered before turning around and taking off running. 

“Hey! Where are you going?” Ash asked, taking off running after the Stuffel. “Come back!” 

The stuffel ran all throughout the town, making Ash twist and turn through crowds of people. “Sorry! Excuse me! Whoops! On your left! Sorry ma’am!” He kept saying. Ash had nearly fallen onto his face about 5 times so far…but Ash still managed to still catch up to the stuffel. For an infant, Stuffel sure had a lot of energy! 

Stuffel eventually ran into the forest. The stuffel jumped through the exotic grass while occasionally looking behind it to see Ash still chasing it. Ash was still yelling at it, doing anything he could to stop the stuffel with no success. “Slow down! I can’t catch up! You’re so fast! I can’t run forever!” Ash kept yelling. 

Almost as if to challenge him, Stuffel took a quick 90 degree turn, and started sprinting left. Ash widened his eyes. “What?!” Ash looked to the left. “Uh oh!” Ash quickly jumped and slid his feet across the grass for a few moments. “Hold on!” When his feet slowed down, Ash made a sharp left turn in order to stay on stuffel’s trail. “Wait up!” 

Moving through the grass and trees, Ash quickly noticed the giant pit of black protruding from the large cave several feet in front of him. And watching Stuffel, it looked like he was heading straight towards the cave! Ash tried to catch himself up slightly. If this Stuffel ends up in the pitch black cave, then Ash may never find him! And Stuffel will be lost from its mama forever! He can’t let that happen! 

Ash ran into the cave after the Stuffel, and slowed himself to a walk upon entry. It was pitch black in there. “Hey! Where’d you go?” Ash asked, reaching his arms out in front of him as he walked into the cave. “Hello?” Ash called. He quickly noticed how much his voice was echoing through the cave. “Anybody there?” He called next. Eventually, Ash’s hands made it to a cold and rough stone wall. Following it, Ash kept his hand on the wall as he moved left, hoping to find a hidden opening. As he followed it, he noticed how bumpy and coarse the wall felt against his hand. And the wall seemed to be…curving a little bit? “Huh?” Ash said aloud. Where’s the end of this wall? Is he getting closer? Gosh, if only he had a flashlight right now…

But wait…what’s that? Ash widened his eyes when he saw a slight bit of light beaming nearby. Letting go of the wall, Ash slowly followed the light. Turning to the right, Ash’s eyes fell on a large ray of light radiating from the top of the cave. Whoa…this wasn’t a pitch black cave at all! It had natural light! 

Ash’s eyes lowered the moment he heard a cry from the Stuffel he had been following. And…hey look! A Bewear! “We found your mama!” Ash reacted. 

“And we found you~” Someone said behind him. 

Ash turned around and frowned. “Team Rocket!” 

“Prepare for trouble!” Jessie declared. 

“And make it double!” James declared next. 

“To protect the world from devastation.” Jessie continued. 

“To unite all people within our nation.” James continued. 

“To denounce the evils of truth and love.” Jessie proceeded. 

“To extend our reach to the stars above.” James kept it going.

“Jessie.” She introduced herself. “James.” He introduced himself. 

“Team Rocket blasting off at the speed of light!” Jessie declared. 

“Surrender now, or prepare to fight!” James kept going. 

“Meowth, that’s right!” Meowth finished the speech by jumping onto Ash’s shoulders.

“AAH!” Ash pushed Meowth off himself, causing Meowth to roll backwards a couple feet. 

“Hey! How could you?!” James reacted, bending down and picking up Meowth. “That was super uncalled for!” James mentioned. 

“What?!” Ash dropped his jaw. “But he jumped in my face!” Ash yelled back. “So you push him to the ground?! We’re in a cave!” James yelled. “You could’ve killed him!” 

“He surprised me.” Ash told him. 

“Don’t you care for the safety of our Pokémon?” Jessie asked. 

“If you did, then you would’ve apologized for what you’d done.” James added. 

“Apologize now, twerp!” Meowth yelled. 

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” Ash told him. 

“Good. Now hand over your Pikachu!” Meowth ordered. 

“Hand it over now, or we’ll steal it from you!” Jessie declared. 

Ash widened his eyes. “Uh…” He scratched the back of his head. “A-About that…” He looked down. “I don’t have him right now…” 

James widened his eyes. “Wait, what?!” He reacted. 

“Well that’s unusual…” Jessie mentioned. 

“Why not? Where is he?” James asked. 

“Pikachu is being healed at the Pokémon center right now.” Ash told them. 

“Uh huh…And we just happened to find you sneaking around in our lair?” Jessie asked. 

“I was trying to help the stuffel find its mother.” Ash told him. 

“Hmmm…I’m sensing a liar on our hands.” Meowth mentioned, his paw on his own chin. 

“I’m sensing that too…He’s toying with our plans!” Jessie added. 

“I don’t know guys…maybe this is a bad time for him.” James added. 

“Ash and Pikachu splitting up?! The chances are so slim!” Jessie reacted. 

“If you could please stop rhyming? That’d be great…” Ash asked, holding his forehead. 

“Got a sassy one on our hands…what do we do?” Jessie asked. 

“Leave him alone?” James asked. 

“Let’s see if he’s telling the truth.” Meowth declared, before tackling Ash to the ground. Ash yelped as his body hit the stone ground. Thankfully his head was saved from the impact, with his butt taking most of the fall. From the moment Ash hit the ground, Meowth started scurrying around his middle. “Peek-a-boo!” He said, peeking out from behind Ash. 

“Hey!” Ash yelled, before gasping with shock as the cat shoved itself back into his shirt. 

A couple seconds later, Meowth’s head popped out of Ash’s shirt collar. “Where are you hiding it?” Meowth asked, before popping back into his shirt and scurrying around like a buizel. 

“Get out!” Ash jumped and yelped. “C-Careful in thehere-!” Ash jumped and squeaked, covering his mouth as he rolled around. 

“You hid it so well! How is that fair?!” Meowth reacted, popping out from the bottom of Ash’s shirt this time. 

Jessie rolled his eyes and rubbed her nose. “Meowth…You’re not even searching him right.”

James snickered a little bit. “If anything, it looks like you’re tickling the boy.” He mentioned. 

“Tickling him?!” Meowth reacted. 

“Yeheheah…Plehease stahp!” Ash reacted, his smile cracking out the sides of his hand.  

“I forgot about that! That’s a great idea!” Meowth’s actions must’ve changed, because Ash had quickly sat himself up slightly and bursted out with laughter. 

“HAHAhahaha! STAHAHAP- Whahat did Ihihi just sahahahay?!” Ash yelled. 

“You told me to stop, but I don’t have to listen to you, twerp.” Meowth told him. 

“JAhahahames! Mahahake hihim staaaahp!” Ash yelled. 

“Actually…” James scratched the back of his head. “We can’t make him do anything…He kinda stops when he feels like it.” James admitted, chuckling awkwardly. 

“Hate to tell ya, but you’re mine for a while!” Meowth declared. 

By this point, Jessie had walked up to Ash’s backpack, and was gently rummaging around in his bag. “Hmmm…Clothes, water bottle, Rotom phone, Pokédex…” Jessie pulled out a pokéball. “Are these empty?” Jessie asked aloud. 

“Yehehes! Thehehehey ahare! Leheheheave that alohohohone!” Ash yelled. 

“Okay, okay.” Jessie put the pokéball back into the bag. “Huh…No Pokémon in here…” Jessie muttered aloud. 

“Seeheehee?” Ash yelled. 

Jessie rolled her eyes. “Just because your bags are empty, doesn’t mean your pockets aren’t.” Jessie told him. “James, check his pockets for me. I’m gonna hold him down.” Jessie told him. 

“Uh…Okay…” James muttered awkwardly. “Do I have to?” He asked. 

“Don’t you wanna find out if the Twerp is lying?” Jessie asked. 

“W-Well yeah…” James replied. 

“Then check his pockets!” Jessie yelled. 

“Alright, fine!” James yelled, putting up his hands in surrender before walking up to Ash. “Can’t get out of anything these days…” James told him. 

“Make sure you check every pocket.” Jessie told him as she positioned Ash’s hands above his head. 

“Alright.” James checked Ash’s right pocket. 

“BAAAHAHAHA!” Ash shrieked. “Oh no, that’s worse than I thought…” James muttered. “I’ll make this quick, I promise.” James reassured the boy as best he could. “First pocket has nothing in it.” James told her. 

“You sure?” Jessie asked. James pulled the fabric of his pocket inside out to show her. “Yup.” James replied. 

“Fine.” Jessie responded. 

“Next pocket.” James said to himself, going for the right pocket.

“HURRYHYHYHY!” Ash yelled. 

“I am, I am!” James grasped onto something and pulled them out. “More empty pokéballs?” He asked, looking at them.

“WHAHAT do you thihihink?!” Ash’s laughter calmed down somewhat. 

“Alright, so I was right.” James said. “He has no Pokémon on him.” James told him. 

“Ihihihi tohold yohohou, thehey’re at the pokémohohon cehehenter.” Ash told them. 

A grumble could be heard from Ash’s middle as an annoyed Meowth crawled out from Ash’s shirt. “Well that was pointless.” Meowth muttered aloud. 

“I don’t know…” James scratched Ash’s side. “This was actually kinda fun.” James admitted. 

Ash bursted out in a more bubbly, giggly kind of laughter this time. “Fohohor yohohou…” Ash muttered. 

“Come on, Ash…you’re not enjoying this even a little bit?” James asked. 

“Whahahat pahart?” Ash asked, kicking his feet as he curled into the fetal position. 

“The tickling.” James replied. “I imagine you wouldn’t enjoy us searching through your bag…” James joked. 

“Truhuhuhue…” Ash muttered. 

“Boop, boop boop!” James started poking his side a couple times. “Boop boop boop-” James poked his finger deeper into Ash’s side as he let out a long, high-pitched “Booooooop!” 

Ash squeaked and rolled over to cover up his side. “Stahahap…” He mumbled. 

“Alright. I’m done now.” James told him, showing Ash his slightly raised hand as he got up onto his feet. 

“Doho…” Ash wiped off his stuff and sat up. “Do you believe me now?” He asked. 

“Yeah…” Meowth muttered. 

“Unfortunately…” Jessie mumbled. 

“Don’t rope me into this! I believed you the whole time.” James told him. 

“Okay, good.” Ash said as he put his pokéballs back into his pocket and got up onto his feet. “Am I free to go now?” He asked. 

Jessie huffed and looked away, visibly disappointed. Meowth looked annoyed as well. 

The only one to speak up, was James. “Yup, you’re free to go.” James picked up a pokéball Ash had missed, and handed it to him. “Here.” He said. 

Ash took it. “Thanks.” Ash started to walk towards the darkness. “See you around.” Ash told them. 

James lifted his finger up, ready to say something. “Do you-” But James slowly lowered his hand when the boy disappeared in the darkness. “Okay…” James looked up at Jessie. “That,” James circled his hand to emphasize the whole scene. “-was all uncalled for.” He told her. 

“Oh please…that was nothing compared to what he does to us.” Jessie reminded him. 

“She has a point.” Meowth added. 

“It should’ve been clear from the moment he showed up without Pikachu, that he had no Pokémon on him.” James mentioned. 

“You’re just too soft on him.” Meowth yelled. 

“Hey guys?” Someone said from the shadows. 

James looked towards the darkness. “Yeah?” 

The familiar voice from the shadows quickly revealed himself in the light again. It was Ash, and he looked nervous. “I don’t know how to get out of here…” He admitted. “Can you show me the way out?” 

Jessie’s eyes softened slightly. As much as she hated the kid, she could also understand how scary it can be to walk in the darkness…especially alone. 

“Sure!” James walked up to Ash, turning to look at Jessie. “Can you come with us? We could really use your Woobat.” James asked her. 

Jessie looked at James for a few moments, before sighing and pulling out her Pokéball. “Sure.” Jessie threw the Pokéball, and watched as the Woobat launched out of it. “Show us the way, Woobat.” Jessie ordered. “Meowth, stay back.” Jessie told him. 

“Wait, what?!” Meowth yelled. “But I wanna-” He stopped when he felt a paw against his chest. It was Bewear…and it was trying to stop Meowth from following his friends. “Awww…” Meowth muttered. 

Woobat had gone in front of the group, and was using its usual ultrasonic waves to navigate the cave. With Jessie and James accompanying him and the Woobat navigating the cave, Ash no longer felt as scared. And his fear had completely dwindled when he saw the light peering in from outside. 

When the trio reached the exit, Ash smiled and held his backpack. “Alright.” Ash turned to the Team Rocket duo. “Thanks for the help!” Ash called. 

“No problem, Ash!” James replied, waving him off. 

Jessie had rolled her eyes, but smiled and shook her head as she crossed her arms. “You’re such a softy.” Jessie mumbled. 

“Yeah well, you’re no better.” James muttered back. 

A small laugh could be heard from Jessie from inside the cave.