#I'm a little angry at the traveler for reacting the way they did at the end if the archon quest ngl

[starpros-sunshine]

seb. seb hes not smiling. and has a fatui background................

I knowwwwww he's still everything to me you do not know how smitten I am with Lyney as a character

[gotham-daydreams]

I love. Your series. I haven't had angst hit this good in years.

I like to imagine that y/n did *try* to be a vigilante like the others. They took the sports and martial arts as a way to practice and when they excelled in running, gymnastics, karate, ect- they gave it their first try. And their first attempt went terribly. They went out alone and so young, not that they ever wanted to fight crime to begin with but that is the most logical way to connect to the family. They were severely injured and decided after that they weren't going to be able to try again. They had to heal alone and their worldview changed from "I can be like them once I'm good enough" to "Maybe they can still love me even if I'm not a vigilante." And nobody knew they even thought this or tried at all. y/n wanted to give the family something to be proud about. And they failed.

You. I like you.

I'm glad you're enjoying the series!!!

[Warnings: Angst (sort of?), Blood, Reader Getting Injured, Panic(?)]

(Not proofread. Had a fun time writing this!)

————————————————————————

You tried to catch your breath, gasping for air as you clutching onto your side. You could feel the wound, the pain never even letting you forget it for a second as you stared in front of you.

Two unconscious men laid on the ground. They were about twice your size across all categories, and yet you had managed to knock them out, somehow. You could hardly believe it, and yet you could barely consider this a victory. Not when you heard the sounds of rushing footsteps, and angry shouts that were growing louder as they headed in your direction.

"There they are! AFTER THEM!"

A thug shouted before you could even register how close they had gotten, head whipping around to see the source of the voice, causing you to pale at the amount of thugs behind him.

Before the dread could even settle in, your body was able to react much faster than your mind. Your feet rushed forward before jumping high in the air, kicking off the walls in the alleyway to travel over the thugs, and landing behind them, not wasting a single second to run away.

Various shouts followed behind you, but all you could concentrate on was the path ahead of you. You traveled between various alleyways in hopes of losing the men, but it was like the moment you got close to achieving that, someone would notice you one way or another.

All of the twists and turns were beginning to confuse you, a sense of dizziness falling over you as the world began to spin. You tried to push forward and keep going, promising yourself that you were almost there — even if you didn't know where 'there' was, or what it could mean.

Your legs began to hurt and sting as you ran, but you kept going, determined to lose these guys before anything else. Promising yourself that it would be smooth sailing from there, and yet just when you noticed that you hadn't run into a thug in a while-

Your face met the pavement.

Was that... blood-?

The fall was far from soft, with the rough ground scratching at your legs and further opening your wounds. Dragging its rough claws against your skin, and making your head feel like it was hit with a brick or mallet.

You hissed, wincing from the pain, as you look at the hand that had been holding your side this whole time. The sight made you pause.

"Find that little twerp! Kill them for all I care! Just FIND THEM!"

A thug, presumably the leader, shouted out suddenly. Causing you to quickly scramble up from the ground, and bite your tongue as you began to run again.

Holding your side, all you did was hope and pray for the best.

Unfortunately, another shout sounded from behind you, and before you knew it a thug appeared in front of you. Without thinking, you quickly slid under him by passing in between his legs, and managed to continue running. Your heart beating against your ribs, nearly breaking them with how hard it pounded. Yet soon, it was the only thing you could hear.

Ba-dump

Ba-dump

Ba-dump

You rushed past another thug, breathing heavily as your feet slamming on to the concrete. Hardly keeping you up right, but just trying to fling you forward.

Yet, another thug managed to get the jump on you.

Ba-dump

Ba-dump

Ba-dump

You were slammed face first into a wall, the impact was so harsh that no sound managed to escape you. All you could do was cough out blood as your struggled in the thug's hold, your gloved fingers clawing at the hand that held your throat.

He squeezed, and more blood came spilling out as you choked.

Ba-dump

Ba-dump

Ba-dump

You couldn't hear what the two thugs in front of you were saying, ears ringing and filled with your deafening heart beat. Your vision was getting blurry now, and even if you couldn't make out much, you could see how their scowls shifted into smirks. The thug's grasp on you tightening, causing you to struggle even more.

The looks they gave you was nothing short of terrifying. Pure malice and bloodlust stared at you, and all you could do was try to hide your fear. Knowing you'd see their faces again in your nightmares.

Thump

Thump

Thump

You trembled as your struggling increased.

Your heart hammered against your chest as your eyes widened, the realization dawning on you as you saw one of them adjust the hold they had on their bat. With the one choking you, winding back his fist, his expression darker than even the shadows of Gotham.

You were going to die here.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

You became frantic. Aiming for anything else you possibly could, as you threw various punches and kicks. Hardly even noticing how your poor efforts were only further irritating the men. Yet that was the least of your concerns.

You scratched at his arm, kicked his chest, tried to go for his eyes. Anything. Anything you could possibly reach, you tried to aim for. Your instincts kicking into high gear as you fought, and fought, and fought.

But at the end of the day, you were just a kid fighting against two grown adults.

You never stood a chance.

You were going to die here.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

... You don't remember much after that.

You could only recall hurriedly running up the stairs that were attached to the side of an apartment building, and could remember how you even got shot in the leg on the way up, but managed to carry on anyway, despite the wound and the new pain it brought.

You vividly remember just narrowly making a jump to another rooftop, completely out of breath. Adrenaline pumping through your viens so hard, and rushing so fast, that even as you fell into a dumpster, you still could hardly feel the pain. All you could remember after that, was darkness surrounding you as you slowly closed your eyes. Having tried to fight off sleep, but ultimately failing.

Even when you did come to, you were still in that dumpster, and the sun still having yet to rise. The smell of trash and blood was so awful, that no words could describe it. Though the smell was also so strong that you could barely smell it, at the very least. You couldn't focus, and everything felt fuzzy for a while as you just laid there.

You looked down at your hand, only to sigh softly. Right, you were still bleeding. Amazing.

Pain was all you could feel, but you knew you'd have to get up, especially if you didn't want to risk anyone finding you and mistaking you for a corpse. Let alone if someone from your family had found you now.

What would they even say? Would they even be able to look at you, after such a terrible first attempt? After you did so poorly, despite having tried to prepare for this so much, on your own? For them?

... What would Bruce say? What would he do?

..... You reluctantly got up. Your body hating you for it immediately, and that was made incredibly clear as pain shot through each and every inch of your body. Yet you still managed to push on, and by some miracle, was able to get out of the dumpster.

You felt as awful as you looked, that much you could tell, but tried to not think about. Walking — which was actually limping because of a certain wound you had — felt like a chore, but you toughed it out as you made your way through Gotham.

Before anyone could really see you, by yet another miracle, you were able to come across a small clothing store that was still open, as some clothes were still hanging outside.

You didn't bother looking for an employee or anything as you just grabbed the biggest hoodie you could find, and took it. You didn't care about the color too much, or any patterns or prints it might've had. All you knew was that it could cover most of your wounds for now, and help keep your identity hidden.

Shaking your head, you just pushed your thoughts to the side. You didn't need to think about that right now, especially not when you were injured. So you wouldn't. You didn't.

So, you slipped it on, but not before leaving some money behind by leaving it tapped on the door from the inside. A small note attached to it reading 'For the hoodie,' and nothing else. After all, you weren't actually trying to steal anything, and you didn't want to give anyone the impression that you were starting. You didn't want to think about what Bruce would do or say if he thought that, let alone the others.

You continued to walk, vaguely remembering where you could get supplies to help yourself, and heading towards the store. Ignoring all the weird looks people would give you when you passed them by, or noticed the trail of blood you were leaving behind. Their stares made you nervous, but you kept going. The humiliation settling in, and making a home for itself in you, as your chest felt heavy.

It's like they were cursing you with their eyes, and damning you to hell.

... The walk was fine for the most part. Painful, yes, but at this point you were already getting a little used to it. So you just moved along, and made your way into the store once you finally reached it.

For your own sake, you tried to be quick about it and grabbed what you needed. A first-aid kit never hurt, but you made sure to grab some other things as well.

So, you got to work and patched yourself up to the best of your ability. Remaining quiet all throughout as you tried to focus and concentrate. Using what you knew, you were able to decently take care of yourself — even if your stitching could use some work, it didn't look too horrible. Removing the bullet in your leg was another story, and though it was difficult, you managed.

Hospitals were out of the question since it'd be all over the news and your family would surely find out. Alfred was also part of the family, so allowing him to help you — let alone see your condition, was also out of the question. You'd just have to take care of this yourself. No one had to know.

Regardless, once you had everything, you paid, and quickly made your way up the stairs that was alongside another apartment building. This time you didn't climb all the way up, and instead stopped somewhere in the middle, and decided to patch yourself up there. Not wanting to risk going too high for your family to see you if they happened to pass by, but also not being too low for any thugs to see you and either finish the job, or put an end to your suffering.

So the middle seemed like the best option for now, even if you did risk some poor civilian seeing you and your horrible state. It was a risk worth taking compared to the other options you had, you thought as much at the time anyway.

Sunrays peaked inbetween the buildings, and lit up your tired and pained eyes. The sky shifted from its darker hues to much lighter ones. With morning birds singing their songs, and more people beginning to wake up and start their days.

Finally, the bleeding was beginning to stop, and all you could do was sigh in relief as you leaned against the wall, and looked to the side. Exhausted beyond belief, and feeling the weakest you've ever felt, but still somehow alive.

You stayed there for a while, just silently admiring as the night turned into day. Dried blood and bandages covering you, pain still evident but it was beginning to die down now. To think you'd make it to sunrise, it was almost unbelievable considering you had nearly died one too many times tonight. Your luck having made it possible to even get this far.

Maybe you'd cry, but it didn't feel right to do so. The pain you felt was enough of a reminder of your failure. Your current state was enough of a reality check.

You weren't like your family, that much was clear.

You just weren't cut out for this. You weren't slow, but you were sloppy. You weren't weak, but you weren't strong enough. You had skill, but you lacked proper technique. You had plans, but your execution was poor. You needed to train, you needed practice and have proper guidance, but where would you even go for that? Who could you go to? If you went to your family at this point, and found out about last night...

You couldn't do what they managed to accomplish every night. Even on your first attempt, you couldn't even manage to do half of what they could. You were reckless, and ultimately overestimated your own abilities despite knowing this wouldn't be easy, and ended up underestimating your opponents. It nearly got you killed, and had you not managed to get yourself out of that situation, you would've died.

You had gotten lucky with so many things last night, and if you were to do this every night like your family, you couldn't just depend on luck. You couldn't have a repeat of last night. You'd surely die that way.

You didn't want to think about what they'd say, the thought alone was painful enough.

Sighing, you just looked away from the sun, and up at the sky, watching as the colors continued to shift.

You wanted to do this on your own to prove yourself. To prove you could do what your family did, and show that you had something to offer. That you could do amazing things and help out too, but you fell flat. You couldn't even handle a group of thugs — how would you be able to handle anything else? What about robberies? Kidnappings? Murders? What about theft, or things dealing with that? How would you deal with anything else if you couldn't even handle the lowest guys in Gotham?

That's the thing, you wouldn't be able to.

If you couldn't even handle a few thugs, you wouldn't be able to do much else. Not at your current level anyway, but how long would it take you to improve? To get better? To be on the same level as your family? To stand by them, and know you were apart of something?

... Maybe you really weren't cut out for this.

To think you once dreamed of standing beside them, helping them, and most of all — making them proud as you held your own weight and then some. Making Gotham a better place right by their side.

It seems so silly now, and maybe that's because it was.

You were hopeless from the start.

Your heart felt so heavy in your chest, the realization causing the organ to squeeze, but you just let it be, and sat with it.

There were other ways you could grab their attention. Other ways that didn't include throwing yourself at death time and time again, and praying you'd live to see another sunrise. This was just... a bump in the road, but you'd have other opportunities! You could do other things to grab their attention and — and maybe you'd even make them proud in the process.

Yeah, there were still other things you could do. You couldn't give up now!

Sure, being a vigilante didn't work out, but that's okay! You'd just have to find something else, it's alright. You'd find something, you were sure of it. You'd find something and be so good at it that they'd have to acknowledge you — hopefully.

You could work something out. After all, there were countless other things you could do besides being a vigilante! Surely one of those things could grab their attention, and maybe if you just worked hard enough and perfected it so much, that they'd acknowledge you — and most of all? Be proud of you.

You'd show them that you had a place in this family, without a mask. You'd show them. You'd prove yourself to them, you would. You will!

Though to start, you'd make your way back home, and just keep what happened last night to yourself. You'd form a plan, think of something, and see it out til the very end. You'd show that you could do great things too besides protecting Gotham from Villians and thugs. That maybe someday, you could make a difference too.

So, with a new hope and dream in your heart, stood up and began making your way down the steps. The sun rising along with your own determination to start on this new path. Making your way back to the Manor, unaware of the misfortune to befall you.

Sometimes, no matter the effort, some things just aren't meant to be. You still had yet to learn that lesson at the time, and even when you eventually would, they'd ruin that too.

[prettylittlels]

Over spilled coffee

(tom blyth x reader)

summary: you accidentally spill coffee over a man, can it be coincidence or just pure luck that he's sitting next to you on a 8 hour flight?

a/n: i've had this concept stuck in my head for days. hope you like it! send requests!

📖🩵🦢🌱🍵🏔⭐️

4:00 am is not my ideal time of the day to wake up to, but going to the airport makes it worth it. My flight to London is in five hours and I'm already at the check-in box, waiting for the airport staff to give me my boarding pass.

After going through customs and security checks, I decide to pass the time at a little coffee shop near my gate. I order an iced coffe and patiently wait by the kitchen island. Going back to my life in London feels amazing after spending the holidays with my family. No more gossip or body shaming me for at least a year!

The barista interrupts my thoughts when she shouts, indicating my coffee was ready. I start to walk towards my precious drink while another man does the same. As I reach the coffee cup, I realize it isn't mine, but when I try to turn around, the man with his beverage in hand blocks my view and the coffee slips from his hand. The dark liquid stains his grey t-shirt completely.

- Oh God! - I say - I'm so, so sorry, sir! -

-It's fine - he looks at me with an angry gaze - I'll just change -

- How can I repay you?- I ask full of regret - Can I buy you another one?-

The man lifts his head and I realize how gorgeous he is. I'm such a moron. He lifts his hand and waves my suggestions away. He's still looking annoyingly at me when he turns around and goes to the men's toilet. Fuck.

————————------• ♡ •------————————

The hours have passed I'm comfortably seated in the plane, window seat secured. New York to London, eight hours to relax and sl- oh no. The guy from the café is right in front of me. He observs his surroundings before settling his eyes on me.

-Oh. - He frowns at me - Hi again- he says. And I catch a subtle english accent

-Hi- I say weakly -What a coincidence, huh?-

-Sure is - responds, lifting his eyebrows sarcastically.

We don't exchange any more words until after the security talk the flight attendants give us. I can't believe I shat my chance at hitting on this beautiful man just because I wanted my stupid coffee, so I start the conversation again.

- Hey, I'm truly sorry for what happened- i say, trying to express my guilt - I see you managed to change your clothes!-

He softens his gaze a notch this time and thanks me.

- I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have reacted like that -

- It's understantable, I would have done the same thing- I smile at him - All good?-

He flashes me a flirty grin. - Everything's good.-

- Good! - I feel relieved - So, London? -

- Yes, work -he answers - I'm staying for a few weeks and then I'm travelling to Birmingham-

-Oh, that's nice - I say- Do you have family there?-

-I do, actually. What about you?-

-I live in London, I'm coming back from my parents house-

-Great - we stare at each other awkwardly - So, what do you do?-

-Oh, I'm a writer - I tell him - You?-

-I'm an actor!- he cheerfully says

-You do look familiar- I laugh - Sorry, what's your name?-

-Oh, right. My name's Tom. Tom Blyth.-

-You played Billy the Kid?- I ask, surprised by his words

-Yes, I did- he smiles appreciative.

-I loved that series! That's why I thought I'd seen you before. Oh, I'm Y/N, by the way. Y/L/N.-

- I haven't heard of you yet, Ms. Y/L/N - he observs

-It's because I'm in the middle of publishing my debut book, actually- I admit.

-When's it gonna come out?- a different accent slios out. Brooklyn, I think.

-Probably in October-

-I'll be waiting for it- he smiles.

The chemistry between us sparked like fireworks. It was so easy to talk to him. We spent all of the flight talking and discussing over things we loved. I didn't want this moment to end.

————————------• ♡ •------————————

The eight hours flew by very quickly, in my opinion, and it was time to say goodbye to my seat-mate.

-I had so much fun today - he tells me - I'm glad you spilled that coffee over me-

-You're funny. But I'm glad, too.-

We grin sweetly at each other, and I was about to part from him when he started talking once more.

-When can I see you again? - he asked, and I'm sure I fell for him right there.

-Anytime you'd like-

————————------• ♡ •------————————

Almost a year went by and we're in very difficult circumstances. Tom has become the interent boyfriend after starring in the new hunger games prequel. And I have sold over 5 million copies of my book in 2 weeks, making my way into a New York Times' bestseller. Life couldn't get any better.

[c4qwp]

leon kennedy x fem!reader

I a mistake he made that he cannot erase.

📎 tags: angst, female reader, you're the other woman, ada mentioned, no use of (y/n), cheating, leon being a bitch (whoops)

📎 author's note: this story is really short, s'gonna have 2 chaperd ig, i cried like a bitch whereas i love angst so thihihi i love it :3

chapter one

prologue — a lana song — chapter one

the wind travelled through your thin shirt, caressing your face with a hint of a chill that you savoured dearly. your eyes slowly closed, before peeping back open as shadows swiftly consumed your every inch.

his eyes wandered up and down your face. you notice him and smile at him.

your first meeting.

≻─── ⋆✩⋆ ───≺

𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 1

Hey,

I don't really know how to start. I don't know to react; i'm...sad? It's probably not the good term i want to say. I'm still shocked about that.

I hate the way you make me feel— my chest begin to tighten when my eyes lock onto yours, yet I find it merely impossible to look away.

i'm trying to understand what did I do wrong to be cheated on, should I change myself to get you back, or am I too unfair ? Is it because of me that you didn't want me anymore ? I know I'm not that pretty  than Ada, yes i knew it was her; I always knew. But I would have done my best to be the one you love.

We were together for...3 years. I knew that we were getting further and further apart because there was a communication problem. If you got to this point, you were really not happy with me.

I should've asked you if you were okay. If you were happy. Happy to be with me.

I should be the angry one. I am, but I understand your point of view. I don't tolerate cheating but I can understand why you did.

I just have one question.

When we were together, did you think of her ?

≻─── ⋆✩⋆ ───≺

He noticed the traces of slightly bent papers. Tears on the paper, your tears.

he can imagine a fake smile to hold back your tears while writing this letter. your basic perfect and neat handwriting has become shaky.

he just wants to see you again and apologize. hug you and ask your forgiveness. you blocked him from everywhere, your parents do not answer the phone. he keeps rereading the letter, understanding why you felt bad about this story when it was he who was at fault, and who still is.

when you mentioned ada's name, he wasn't surprised. you've had arguments about her before. he received photos of her with a little note on the back with a mark of red lipstick. you hadn't noticed these photos before putting away leon's cupboard where there were 'hidden' photos all under his clothes. you argued but he defended himself by saying he didn't understand why she was doing this.

but you didn't understand why he was hiding those photos. was she so important? more important than you? you did not want to write this. he wouldn't answer and just keep silent. he himself does not know— or he doesn't want to admit it.

a bitter taste settles in leon's mouth. he didn't want to accept the truth, but when you wore red, it reminded him of her. when you called him pretty boy or handsome, you reminded him of her. it was not your fault.

he was in wrong.

'cause sometimes i look in her eyes, and that's where i find a glimpse of us — joji'

[surftrips]

butterflies — part one.

pairing: rafe cameron x female reader

summary: after returning home from college for the summer, y/n runs into rafe cameron and the two form an unlikely relationship.

word count: 1582

a/n: part one of my new series inspired by "butterflies" by kacey musgraves. friends to lovers trope! masterlist.

It had been a few months since your first college relationship ended.

It was summer now. You were back home, content with where you were, just coasting through life.

You spent your time with friends and family, at bonfire parties and backyard barbecues. You may have been single, but you certainly weren't lonely.

Besides, your ex was kinda... shitty, for lack of a better word. Instead of lifting you up, he was always holding you back. You felt as though you were suffocating towards the end, and finally you couldn't take it anymore so you broke up with him.

With all this newfound free time, you had taken to spending more time outdoors. Surfing, biking, or simply going for a walk, it felt nice to feel the fresh air and freedom on your skin.

One day you were going for a run in your neighborhood, when you felt someone else jogging up behind you.

"Hey! Wait up!" they said.

You turned around, ready to defend yourself, but to your surprise, it was none other than Rafe Cameron who had called you.

"Rafe?"

"Hey, uh...Y/N right?" he responded, looking unsure.

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Come on, I know everyone on this side of the island."

It was true. His family was by far the most affluent on the island and had the most connections. You wouldn't be surprised if his parents knew yours through their work.

Still, you felt the need to push back. "Is that so? Where do I go to college then?"

"Oh, easy. Everyone knows you go to Duke."

Now, you were surprised. Was Rafe Cameron keeping tabs on you?

He must have noticed your shocked face because he said, "Okay, by 'everyone,' I mean me. I know you go to Duke because I applied and got waitlisted."

"Ah, now there's the Rafe Cameron I know. Only cares about stuff when it involves him."

Were you being a little harsh? Yes. But Rafe Cameron had been the most popular guy in high school, he could handle a little teasing from you.

"Okay, ouch. Do you even know where I go to college?" he responded.

"Easy," you mocked him. "UNC Chapel Hill."

"Y/N Y/L/N, I didn't take you as a Rafe Cameron fan," he feigned surprise.

"Oh please, I only know because it's where all the frat boys go."

"Alright, fair enough. But I'll have you know I am so much more than just a frat boy."

"Yeah? Prove it." You don't know what possessed you to be talking to him like this, but hey, it was summer. What did you have to lose?

"How do you want me to do that?"

Yeah, how did you want him to do that? you thought to yourself.

"You're smart. I'm free the whole summer, figure it out," you settled on saying.

He seemed to think about it for a second. Finally, he responded, "Why do you think I called you earlier?"

It dawned on you that you had no idea. Sure, you two went to high school together but you hung out in entirely different circles and up until a few minutes ago, you weren't even sure that he knew who you were.

"I don't know, why?" you asked, almost nervously.

"I heard about your breakup. I wanted to see if you were okay."

"That's bullshit. I've only told my best friends about that." You knew that word traveled fast on the island, so you made sure to only tell people you trusted. How the hell did Rafe Cameron of all people find out?

"Well, you may not know this but all the college kids in North Carolina are connected in one way or another. One of my frat brothers is actually friends with your ex..." he trailed off, not sure how you would react to this.

For once, you were speechless. It really was a small world.

"Tell your brother his friend is an asshole," you finally managed.

He chuckled, relieved that you weren't angry or anything. He didn't know the full details of the breakup, but it definitely wasn't amicable.

"Sure, I'll pass the word along. But, yeah, I seriously did want to check on you," he said.

After a while, he added, "I'm getting over a breakup myself, actually."

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't know."

"It's alright," he said. And then, "Have some faith in me, I'm not a bad guy."

This was technically true. Even though he was the typical popular, rich guy in high school, he was definitely one of the better ones. He never bullied anyone and mostly kept to his circle of friends. However, you just couldn't wrap your head around the idea of someone who never acknowledged you during high school caring about you now. What had changed?

Guess you had the whole summer to find out.

—

After that day, Rafe somehow convinced you to hang out with him more. You weren't sure what his motives were, whether he had any aside from trying to prove to you he was "more than just a frat boy."

The first time he took you to a coffee shop, a local one in downtown Kildare.

"I didn't know you drank coffee like that," you remarked.

"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me," he had responded.

As he took a sip of his drink, you used this opportunity to get a better look at him. You were too shy to make direct eye contact with him, worried that his bright blue eyes would cause blood to involuntarily rush to your cheeks.

He had changed since high school. His shoulders had somehow gotten even broader, his hair was now buzzed down, had he gotten taller?

Suddenly, you wondered what his ex-girlfriend was like. Was she outgoing or shy? Did she go out every night or stay in her dorm? What did she study? In other words, was she like you or the total opposite?

You shook your head, what did it matter to you anyway? You never really liked him in high school, and he seemed all the same now.

(Just a little better looking, somehow.)

—

Weeks later, nothing and everything had changed. You two had been on...

morning runs (or walks, if you guys were hungover from the night before)

grocery store trips after deciding you would show Rafe how to make your pasta recipe

errands runs where you tagged along in Rafe's passenger seat

spontaneous surf trips at the local beach

and of course, late nights spent around a fire as you two reminisced about how different your high school experiences were

Your initial hesitation about spending time with Rafe had waned. You figured that as long as you were having fun, there was no harm being done.

You learned that a lot of Rafe's college friends lived out-of-state and he hadn't been with anyone since his own breakup so he was pretty lonely at home until you showed up.

"Y/N, if I had a girlfriend don't you think I would be with her right now?"

"I don't know! Maybe she lives halfway across the country or is being locked up in a tower somewhere and that's why you can't see her!"

"Can you even hear yourself right now? Who do you think I'm dating, Rapunzel??"

Okay, so he was single. And he was spending nearly everyday with you. As a friend, of course. He just needed someone to keep him company. These are all things you reminded yourself.

You didn't even let yourself consider the possibility that there could be more to your sudden friendship.

—

Your steadfast attitude about your friendship wavered when you were over at his house one day.

You had been there a few times already, but when you knocked on the door this time, his sister Sarah opened it.

Sarah was a few years younger than you two, and was still in high school. Like with her brother, your paths had never really crossed.

"Oh, hey Sarah. Sorry, I was expecting Rafe," you said.

She smiled at you, "No worries, you must be Y/N?"

"Yeah, is he back there?"

Sarah moved out of the way you let you in. "Rafe! Your girlfriend's here!"

"Oh, no-" you started to correct her as Rafe appeared from the kitchen.

"Sarah, she's not my girlfriend," he said.

"Well, you certainly act like a couple," she responded before leaving you two alone.

"Sorry about that," Rafe said when she was out of the room.

"No, it's okay. I've been called worse," you joked.

"Yeah, whatever," he smiled. "The kitchen's all set for us to make lunch, you ready?"

Though you tried not to think about it, Sarah's words echoed in your mind for the rest of the day.

What were you two doing? Clearly, you were both using each other as a distraction, maybe not physically but definitely emotionally. You had both just gotten out of relationships and were looking to fill that void.

On the other hand, you had grown to genuinely like Rafe. It would not have been the worst thing in the world to be his girlfriend. In fact, later that night as you were lying in bed, you toyed with that idea.

"Hey, everyone. This is Y/N, my girlfriend," he would say, strong arms wrapped around your frame.

"Hi, I'm Y/n! Rafe's girlfriend," you would say while meeting his college friends.

Well, shit. You had fallen for Rafe Cameron and he had no idea.

[ellieslittleburrow]

Summary : Your phone dies just when you lied to your father about where you are. How does he react when he finds you?

Warnings : Being chased by somebody

A/N : woo woo! First Beau fic, thanks to @dreamerbouquet 🪷🪷 alsooooooooo, i'm so angry at how my writing is so repetitive yall 😭 i hate it i need a change.

-------

-- Your phone dies before you get to send that last text..

Fucking hell. You just lied too-you weren't right...quite on Ousel Falls, you're still in the woods near by, limping your way out as you dragged your bicycle through the mud.

You SOMEHOW trip over something and fly forward, landing over a broken branch that brushes your skin just enough to remove it.

Fuckking hell..

Thankfully, you know your way through the vast space and so you walk...and walk, spinning around when a creaking sounds behind you..."Hello?" You say, frantically looking around. Dear god...

Another creak sounds and a figure appears from afar, seemingly running towards you. A gasp escapes your lips and you push away the bicycle before spriting forward, in spite of your aching foot. You run and hop over branches, looking over your shoulder at the person running after you.

You didn't have time to back down, you thought of your father, what he'd do-Thankfully you're only a little under a mile away from the entrance of the woods, and so your feet spring faster-and as you look back once more, you bump into something-which you push away.

"N-No." You push agaisnt it-

"I'ts me, it's me-it's dad."

"We have to go they're com-"

"Calm down, calm down honey-it's just a bunch of kids" Your dad shakes your body gently, leaning close to you to get your attention. "They ran away already, just a bunch of kids."

You take a breather, processing as your heatbeat starts slowing down...

"Come here." He says, pulling you into his chest, one hand envelopping your back and the other resting over the back of your head. "Dear god...you scared me-i thought-" He shut himself up, proceeding with a long sigh.

You pull away from him, biting your lip in an attempt to dtop your quivering chin. "I'm sorry...i-" a sob escapes your throat and you lean back into his chest- Relief has finally hit you and your muscles relaxed... "i'm sorry i didn't mean to scare you-or for my phone to die i-"

He interrupts you, pulling you away firmly. And when your eyes meet, a wave of emotions travels through his eyes. He looks worried and sad and relieved and angry, all of which overwhelm you.

"What did i say about going to the woods alone?" His voice is firm. But the tenderness in his furrowed eyebrows isn't. "What did i say about that?" He demands a response and you just don't have one.

"I-i m-i don't know-I I didn't take it that seriously-" you stop yourself, hell..you just exposed yourself-you shouldn't have.. "i'm sorry."

Your dad rubs your back "It's okay.." He rests his chin over your head, temporarily planting kisses on it.

"It's okay...i'm here now." Your dad reassures you one last time before stepping back. "Do we need to go to the hospital?" He kneels down when his attention lands on your bleeding leg.

"No, no need for that." You reassure him back, staggering back when he held your leg up a little high. You rested your hand on his shoulder, balancing yourself. "I'm okkay."

You're not-You wince as your father examines what turns out to be an open cut.

"Can you walk?"

You roll your eyes. "Dad, it's not that serious it's just a c-"

"Can you or can you not?" He cuts you off.

"I caaaan..." You groan in annoyance. It's a lie but-he's already tired enough

"Okay....let's go then. If i notice you're limping i'm carrying you back." He orders and a smile appears on your face.

"Okay" You can't fight that. "Thank you."

"I'm...i'm just glad you're okay, honey."

-----

I wish i could've made this one longer. But i'm too tired. Anyway, kissies yall, i hope you enjoyed reading this 🥀🥀🥀❤️❤️❤️

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Tiny little wolfstar piece to try and get over my writers block.

"Moony..." Sirius started, stopping in front of Remus, who was sitting in James' back garden, book in one hand. At the sound of Sirius' voice, he glanced up, warm smile already in place. Sirius smiled back, dropping down next to him on the grass. "I, uh..." Anxiety waved over him, then. "I have something to tell you. Well, show you."

Remus' smile faded, like he could feel Sirius' nerves radiating off him. He probably could, Remus was the only one who would do that.

"What's going on, is everything okay?"

"Well, I- just... promise me you won't be angry." Remus laughed lightly, reaching out to grab Sirius' hand and squeezing it once.

"Oh God, what have you done?" He asked easily.

"It's... a long story."

A hint of a frown started to appear, then. Sirius knew he just needed to get on with it, but he was nervous! He honestly had no clue how Remus would react, but he had a feeling that Remus was started to overblow the situation in his head.

"Sirius-?"

"Not that it's bad! Well, I don't think it's bad, but I guess- you might think it's... I don't know."

"Love, you're rambling." Remus said gently, somehow calm through his panic. "Just tell me. Surely it can't be that bad, I mean... you haven't killed anyone, have you-?"

"I got a tattoo." Sirius said in a rush, eyes fixing on their joined hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Remus freeze. He was right, though. Just getting it out helped him get his head together, think. "Last week, when I went to visit Andy. Turns out she can do them, so I got one."

Remus nodded, encouraging Sirius to tear his eyes away from their joined hands and up to Remus' face. So far, so good, Remus had shot him a reassuring smile.

"If it makes you happy, then I'm happy." He answered with a shrug. Warmth shot through Sirius, but it wasn't over, he needed to know the rest.

"Let me just- I'll show you, hold on." Sirius added, pulling his hand from Remus' and lifting his sleeve. He flipped his right forearm and showed Remus the tattoo, watching in bated breath as Remus' eyes widened.

"Oh my god. You-"

Sirius turned to the static tattoo on his arm, a small, silhouetted wolf and dog, sat side by side, leaning against one another.

"Hold on, there's more." With that, he ran his fingertips gently over the two, watching as they sprung to life, the wolf chasing the dog up his arm and out of sight. After a few moments, they ran back down, before dropping to a stroll, walking together.

"Sirius..." Remus trailed off, shock laced through his voice, as Sirius let his eyes travel back to him. Sirius didn't expect there to be tears in his eyes. "You- why would you...?"

"Oh, fuck, Moony, I'm sorry. I didn't- I can- I didn't mean to upset you." Sirius exhaled quickly, running an anxious hand through his hair.

"That's permanent. It's on you forever. It's permanent, Padfoot." Remus breathed, stunned, eyes darting over Sirius' face.

"...I know." Sirius answered, a little perplexed.

"You- you got it put on your skin permanently." He said again, and Sirius was really confused, at this point.

"Yeah, I did."

"That's us. You got us tattooed. You and me." Sirius nodded.

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked, concerned.

Finally, after what seemed like years, Remus' eyes settled on Sirius'.

"...why?" Remus asked softly, eyes searching.

"...because I wanted to." Sirius said first, trying to find the words for a more substantial answer. "Because it's us. I love you, I wanted it to be there forever. For everyone to see, but only us to know, I guess." He finished calmly, with a shrug.

Remus blinked, clearly taken aback by the response, before finally, finally leaning in and kissing him.

"I love it." Remus murmured against Sirius lips. All of the tension finally dropped from his body, dropping his head onto Remus' shoulder as Remus, arm found its way around Sirius' waist.

"Oh, thank fuck." He said with a relieved sigh, drawing a laugh out of Remus. "Don't do that! You had me bloody terrified!"

"Sorry, love."

"No, don't be, I'm glad you like it." And then, "I was thinking we could get matching ones, next." He added with a sharp eyebrow raise and a grin.

[lazilybeinglassie]

Mark Of The Baked

One Shot by LazilyBeingLassie

Inspired by @/sunseed-fandump "The Devil's Encore"

Characters: Gingerbrave, Strawberry Cookie, Wizard Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie

Summary: Shadow Milk creates a dream where he can talk to the three cookies. Offering a proposal and a piece of information.

Notes: I had a headcanon, that I know isn't real, but for the sake of character expansion I'm running with it!

The sun was bright and hot, giving everyone the brightest smiles and determination to work hard. Cookies running around, accomplishing tasks that were needed to be done. Baking, farming, building. And when cookies weren't working, they were mingling, playing, or just enjoying the fresh air.

Gingerbrave was making his rounds on the kingdom, seeing if he was needed anywhere. More and more cookies were finding their way to this place, which meant jobs were getting filled up more and more. Sure it meant he had less to do, but that didn't bother him all too much as it gave him time to travel and see his friends from across Earthbread.

Like . . . Pure Vanilla Cookie . . . Why was that the first name that came to his head? In fact, hadn't he just been talking with him not too-

His thoughts were interrupted at the sound of distress further into the center of town. No one seemed to be reacting to it, so the brave cookie decided to check it out himself. He could hear the sounds of cake hounds not too far from him as Gingerbrave stumbled upon a merchant cookie who was fighting them off with a broom. The cookie was blue and dressed in a sweater and jeans, defending a cart full of cabbages that were ripe and ready to sell. If they made it to the stand that was.

"Go away! These aren't for you!" The cookie wacked away, but they were not giving up so easily.

"Hey," shouted Gingerbrave, "scram! All of you!" With his candy cane, he smacked them back, giving some distance between the two.

The little pooches however seemed more and more angry as they crawled closer and closer to them. It was gonna be a big fight for sure. Nothing he couldn't handle of course. Then suddenly . . .

CRACK! BOOM!

Lightening struck in front of the cakes, scaring them back to the forests where they came from. Both of the cookies were a bit shocked at first as they looked up to see there were no clouds in the sky. Not a storm in sight. That could only mean one thing.

"Gingerbrave," shouted Wizard Cookie, running over to the two with Strawberry Cookie following, "I didn't accidentally hit you, did I? I was estimating my shot, but-"

"No no! We're both fine! Thanks for spooking them, Wizard Cookie," Gingerbrave thanked.

The pink hoodie cookie smiled as she clutched her lollypop in hand. "We heard the noise and hurried while we could. I wonder how cake hounds got inside the kingdom?"

"Doesn't matter now," stated the ice cream cookie, "the danger is gone."

The merchant cookie smiled warmly as he approached them. "Thank you so much for protecting my goods! I thought I was a goner for sure."

"No problem," Gingerbrave said, "don't think we've met. What's your name?"

"Call me Blueberry Milk Cookie. I was just simply passing by as those monsters came after me."

"Huh. I would have thought someone would have noticed."

Looking back at the other cookies, they all seemed so caught up in what they were doing, it felt like they didn't even notice that a skirmish occurred. Not even when Wizard Cookie's spell was cast.

Strawberry walked up to her friend. "Should we be worried no one's talking to us?"

"I said hi to about three cookies on the way here. None of them answered back," Wizard added.

Gingerbrave hummed. "Guys? Is it weird that I feel like we're not suppose to be here?"

The three felt their dough shiver as they looked at each other. Something was very wrong. And they were piecing it together slowly.

"Hehehehehe!"

A giggle echoed around them as Gingerbrave, Wizard and Strawberry turned to face Blueberry Milk Cookie. Or at least, who use to be. The cookie that stood in place turned to static as it reshaped itself into the trickster himself.

Shadow Milk Cookie.

"And here I thought we could keep this up for about eight more minutes," said the jester, "oh well!"

Quickly, the trio backed up as they wielded their weapons defensively. Gingerbrave and Wizard in front with Strawberry behind them. Someone as unpredictable as him was every reason why their senses sharpened and focused.

"What are you doing here in Crispia," yelled Gingerbrave, "White Lily sealed you back in the Silver Tree!"

"Now now, little cookies-" The jester smirked knowing that Wizard was looking extra irritated at that phrasing. "-you should know a professional always has a plan b in case of . . . interferences. Though I honestly want to see if you can guess where we really are? Go on!"

His comment got them thinking for a bit as they looked around again. Now the cookies around them were frozen still. Petrified in whatever position they were in at the moment. It felt so freaky. But as they pondered it for a moment, an answer came to them.

"Is this . . . not real," Strawberry asked aloud.

"An illusion? No, a dream perhaps," Wizard theorized.

Sounds of an applause came to their hearing. "Ring ding ding! Looks like we do have some smart cookies here! Yes, while I cannot do anything in reality, reaching your minds is nothing more than a simple feat. The only real cookies here are me and you three. A perfect moment for us to chat." There was a small growl that laced his sentences as the trickster walked on air, circling them delightfully.

Gingerbrave pointed his cane at the villain. "Whatever you wanna say, forget it! No way are we trusting a liar like you!"

"Aw, don't be so rude, Ginger~! I have no intention of harming a single crumb on either of you," sung Shadow Milk as he appeared next to the brave cookie to pinch his cheek.

"Lies," Wizard snapped, "we all remember what you did back at the Faerie Kingdom! What you did to Pure Vanilla Cookie! To White Lily Cookie! To Elder Faerie!"

The blue cookie leaned in close to the magic cookie, causing him to back up in fear. "That old fool crumbled on his own terms, mind you! Still, I guess I could take the credit if you're offering it. Ehehehe!"

"Just get out of our dreams! . . . Er, dream . . . since this counts as just one dream-"

Gingerbrave took a chance to hit him with his candy cane, only for it to pass through Shadow Milk like he was a ghost. The beast walked away from them slowly as he rambled on. "In due time, little cookies. For now, I do believe we have something to discuss about that very much will be in your interest!"

"If it means you leave us alone after that, then get it over with," GIngerbrave demanded.

As the jester sat down on the edge of the fountain, he reached for his neck ruff and snapped it open as it hung over his shoulders. It looked weird to see the actual neck of this cookie for a moment. Then he stretched his leotard collar to reveal something underneath.

Something that got the trio's attention for sure.

It was faint, worn overtime, but they could see it clearly. On his chest was a marking of some sort. A thinly lined circle with a three pronged fork in the center. Shadow Milk grinned at their reactions of utter silence and shock. "I'm certain you know what this is. Just like how I know you each have one like this as well."

They flinched. Gingerbrave and Wizard tensing up, and Strawberry reaching for her shoulder as she whimpered.

Shadow Milk snapped his ruff back together as he chuckled. "It's very rare for baked cookies to be wandering around Earthbread these days. But I never thought the first things I would see after waking up would be three very freshly baked cookies! Which only means those idiots are still kicking and making more!" He floats in the air as he hovers closer to them with wide eyes. "Tell me, where exactly is their hut, by chance?"

"W-Why would you ask us that," Wizard stuttered.

"Come now, surely you would remember the way back to your own creators!"

"We don't!" Gingerbrave stepped forward in defense. "We'd rather never go back there, ever!"

"OOOOOoooooh! Rebellious! Mrehehehehe! So I guess that means you're going against your master's wishes then! I must say, I approve!" Shadow Milk playfully leaned back midair as if he were sitting in a recliner.

"Wh . . . What do you mean by that," Strawberry asked while clutching her weapon close to her chest.

In that moment, the jester's smile dropped, exchanging for an expression of confusion. Sitting up he looked at the pink cookie in curiosity. She didn't like that he was. And neither did the others as they stood in front of her.

"Wait . . . do any of you know why you were made?" Silence. Shadow Milk for a moment seemed quite literally clueless for a moment. "Well that's new. Usually cookies aren't baked unless they had a task to accomplish or . . . oh . . . OH! EhehehehahahahaHAHAHAHA!" The beast howled in laughter as he pieced it together. "No way! You were made as snack cookies, weren't you!? And you ran out of there like your life depended on it! OH this is just too perfect! Well, more sad for you, but still."

Each of the young cookies shrunk a little. Memories of the witch's hut were never pleasant. Yet the one thing they never could pin down was why the witches would make them with a consciousness if all they were made to do was be eaten. Even if they tried to not think about it, there would always be times where those questions would come back to haunt them again.

In the end, what they were really was what Shadow Milk said they were. Snacks that were just lucky to be alive by a fluke. In a sense, it made them feel empty inside. Lost? Alone? Sometimes. But more like they had little value to themselves. Just cookies. Nothing more.

The jester could see their dismay as he smiled widely. Landing on his feet, he walked slowly towards them. "I assume you've not met another cookie who was baked like you were? Or at least, another one that escaped fate like you have? I also must assume none of you have told anyone, have you?" They suddenly looked at him in fear as he approached Gingerbrave, patting his head. "Now now, don't you worry. Your little secret origin is safe with me. I should understand after all, what it is like to be a creation of the witches." He wanders behind Strawberry, placing his hands on her shoulders. "In a sense, I suppose that would make us siblings of some sort. Much like me and my comrades are." Finally he moves to Wizard, shifting his hat to fit his head more properly. "Guess that makes me big brother Shadow Milk Cookie, huh? I like the sound of that!"

Wizard stepped back as he fixed his hat and glared at the beast. "As if! Being baked by witches doesn't make us family!"

"Ehe! Why not? It's the closest thing you might get to one."

Gingerbrave gripped his candy cane. "You're wrong! We have friends that already care for us back home! The first time we met, you corrupted an entire kingdom and killed its king! Who also was our friend!"

"A friend who served the witches? The very creatures you defied for survival," the jester clarified, "you do know how to pick them then. Hehehe!"

Getting angry, the brave cookie swung his cane. As he did, Shadow Milk turned into a cloud as he faded away, reappearing at a distance from them. Wizard tried to attempt using lightening magic on him, only for the beast to take it and stand there, unphased by it. They were mad, scared, and wanted out of this dream.

"The point I'm trying to get across here is that your goal to survive the witches is one the cookies of Earthbread will never understand. They consider them to be gods! Deities! Even the St. Pastry Order believes them to be holy beings that only ever have good intentions for them! And yet you trust these cookies with your lives. Though, not enough to let them in on your little secrets."

"And what reason do you have for us to trust you," demanded Wizard.

The grin didn't fail to widen as he spread his arms. "Because we are the only ones powerful enough to accomplish what Dark Enchantress could never accomplish! To kill the witches once and for all!"

The trio gasped in surprise. Could it be done? Should it be done? The witches, erased from the world?

"Tempting, isn't it? A world where there is no need to be afraid of being eaten. A world where we have no fear of anything! One where we can choose to shape it as we wish!"

" . . . You mean destroy," Strawberry uttered, the sounds of irritation bubbling in her tone.

"Ahahahaha! Well, destruction is an important part of making that new world! But in it's place will be one of, well I consider to be never ending fun! And each of you can have a place in that." He holds his hand out graciously. "You are owed at least that for what the witches have done."

In that moment, they all looked at each other. Thoughts crossed their minds, some good intentioned, others slightly selfish. But there truly was no other conclusion for such a decision.

"Maybe that's what you want," Gingerbrave started, "and maybe some of that is something we wanted as well. But to help you accomplish that so you can do whatever you want is something we don't want. Not when it can hurt cookies we care about."

Strawberry, feeling braver, stepped forward as she held out her lollypop. "Our kingdom in Crispia has become a home for us. Not just our friends. One that we vow to protect from the witches and those who would destroy it for their own selfish gains. There are cookies on Earthbread who are kind and gentle. Brave and strong. Ones we know that want the same thing as we do! To have a home and place here!"

"Right!" Wizard stomped his staff on the ground and spoke aloud. "We've found our place in this world! And we plan to fight for it just like everyone else is! So don't you dare think that we'll turn our backs on it for anything less than that!"

They awaited for the jester to speak. Shadow Milk's smile by now had faded to a frown. His glare at them was intimidating and hollow. Though once a moment had passed, he smiled again, smaller this time. "I see. So you've chosen your side then. Alright."

Wizard spat for a bit. "Wha-That's it!? Nothing?! I would have thought you had another speech in there to curveball this whole conversation!"

"No need! Yours was already convincing enough. Very well done. I highly doubt anything I have to offer would be as tantalizing as what I've already given you. Such a shame." Then his eyes widen as well as his grin. "Guess you'll just crumble like the rest of them."

The kingdom caught fire as flames surrounded the trio. Engulfing buildings and cookies within them as they panicked. The intensity of the heat frightened them, almost feeling like it was real. As they looked for an escape, silhouettes of the five beasts rise in the air, glaring them down with bright eyes. Shadow Milk swiftly zooming in close to their faces as he grew large in size and chuckled.

"Just remember. You chose this."

The last thing they heard was his wicked laughter as they were consumed by the fire.

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

Gingerbrave, Wizard and Strawberry screamed as they woke up that morning. What an awful nightmare that was. They each took a moment to breathe and calm down, grounding themselves in the facts. The Silver Tree was still standing, and the beasts were locked up. They couldn't hurt them . . . for now.

The scream did alert Pure Vanilla, White Lily, as well as some of the faerie cookies. Silverbell and Mercurial Knight had ran in to check on them once they heard the cries, only for the cookies to dismiss the panic as a bad dream. To which they were gentle and comforting about it.

Gingerbrave was wanting to speak up about it, tell them what happened, but was stopped by Wizard and Strawberry who wanted to keep it a secret for now. Too shaken by the incident to really openly talk about it to others. Especially since there was some personal stuff involved in it. He protested, but caved in favor of making them feel more comfortable.

As the day went on, the trio were keeping close to each other, with Strawberry clinging the most to whoever was closest to her. Their nerves were on edge, and feared that they would see Shadow Milk appear in the corner of their sight. Or worse, hear his cackle in the distance.

Pure Vanilla had attempted a few times to try and talk to them, but they kept a lid on things as best as they could. Which felt wrong, but at the same time, it was just how the beast assumed. They never really went into their past with the Ancients. Nor did they plan to.

By the end of the day, the trio were back in their room, dreading the night's sleep. Rightfully so though. Unless Shadow Milk had nothing else to discuss with them that was.

Gingerbrave looked to his hand. At the palm was a mark. Much like Shadow Milk, it had a circle, but the image inside instead was a smiling face. One that looked joyful.

Strawberry once more reached for her shoulder. Even under her hoodie, she could feel the engraving of it as clear as day. Within the circle was an image of a strawberry.

Wizard noticed a reflective surface as he turned to it. Lifting his hat slightly, he shifted his ice cream hair, revealing his own mark, which had a star at the center of it.

Baked by the witches. Meant to be consumed, and ceased to be. What more could there really be to them than that?

*********************

I had a lot of fun thinking about this one shot. I love these guys so much, I just wanted some angst. I hope you guys like it too!

[rustys-lodge]

I own you

Summary : Your pretty little face and dress cause men to look at you. And to be honest, it felt good being seen. From Elvis's side, though. It was hell. How's he going to react to that ?

Warnings : Beginning of a smutty slutty thing, sussy kinks. Swearing, slight hair pulling, teasing,slight touching, talk about sexual stuff, possessiveness.

A/N : Okay, so apparently i'm sussy as hell, so beware. But what can i say. It's Him. He's doing this. Him specifically from the live from 06-27-1968

----

You could feel the skirt-not so shyly- covering your thighs, tightening on each side as you stepped up the staircase. And you could also feel the eyes of the man behind you burn through that little skirt.

"Go on, Darling. I'll join you in a bit." A hand lightly brushed your lower back, sending you off to your suite.

Your mind raced all the way up there. Even as you sat in front of your mirror, you wondered about those men...what they were thinking.

You stared into your reflection, scanning every feature for imperfec-

"You are the most beautiful woman i have ever layed eyes on."

You looked up.

Elvis.

Elvis stood beside the bedroom doorframe. How long has he been standing there ?

You'd ask, but you weren't sure you'd want to hear the answer to that.

Your boyfriend shuffled his feet across the floor, closing in the distance between you.

"You really are the most beautiful wom-

"Liar." The word came out more bitter than you intended it to be. And it stung. But he would not sleep with every other woman if that were true.

"That hurts." Elvis responded, confirming the case. "You don't mean that." A smile flashed across his face. "You wanted me to say that to you."

Not...entirely wrong.

"My beauty." Your boyfriend whispered once he was standing behind you. You were still glancing at him through the mirror, surpressing a smile.

His belt stood a few centimeters over your head. He was tall. And his head exceeded the mirror frame, but from your angle, on that little stool of yours, you could see all of him. Elvis sat his hand on top of your head, traveling all the way down slowly.

You breathed in the smell of his perfume, accompanied by a scent of sweat and hardwork.

A knot formed in your stomach. You still had feelings for him. Strong feelings.

"Did you like how all those men looked at you ?"

Your heart skipped a beat. He noticed.

"Did you, darling ?" His hand envelopped half of your little neck.

As gentle as his grip was, your heart still fluttered in fear. Your lips parted and closed. "I...I'm not sure i know what you're talkin' abou-"

"Don't play dumb on me now." The singer's tone came out in soft lyrical mumbles. Too soft.

Caught red handed. Elvis might've been a druggie. But he sure as hell weren't dumb. Especially when it came to his woman. So you shrugged your shoulders.

" I might've seen a few eyes stare."

A grumbling left Elvis's lips and fear ran through your veins.

Maybe this was the right way for him to see that he was losing you...Maybe you were doing the right thing.

"Did you like that ?."

You shrugged your shoulders again. Unsure of whetherr you should answer that question or not.

"Did you ?." A sudden tug at your hair caused you to moan in pain. And just like that, you found yourself staring into his eyes.

Angry, he didn't need an answer to your question. He already knew the answer. And judging by his relaxed eyebrows, you could tell that it was only going to take him one little word to work him over.

So you took that chance.

"Y-y-eah."

The singer smirked at your answer, instantly pulling your hair harder.

You whined. "Elv-"

"You think any o' them'll know how to love you like i do ?."

You ignored his question, reaching for his arm. But he smacked your hand away.

"Elvis, that hurts." You whined, shutting your eyes closed.

"I know it does." A sudden sadistic murmur sent you shivering.

Wha-

Elvis bent down to set his lips a breath away from your ear. "You think they'll know how to touch you ?."

Wetness swept your neck and a wave of feelings kindled inside of you.

"Huh ?"

You could only moan in response, whimpering when he dug his teeth into your neck.

You didn't stop him, though. You tilted your head to the side to let him roam freely.

"Do you ?"

You moaned, reaching for your breast in absolute unconsciousness, causing Elvis to smack your hand away to replace with his own.

Of course no one would. Elvis knew every little part of your body. He knew how to touch you. How to kiss you. How to lo-

"I own you."

You breathed heavily in response. Too high to form a proper answer, or a proper rebuttal.

"Touch it." The man freed your hair. And you straightened your back up.

"What ?" You stared at him through the mirror, following his gaze down to what's covered by your back.

"Touch it." He repeated, gripping your hand to guide it to his groin. Your whole body followed. And you found yourself sitting right in front of...it.

His bulge couldn't fit in your hand..So hard.

You bit your lip as your own parts ached.

"This is how you make me feel."

They ached more.

But it all melted away when he pushed your hand and backed away.

You looked up,tilting your head in a questioning manner. What ??

"I have somewhere to be." Your boyfriend responded, causing a scoff to leave your lips.

"No. No." You shook your head in disbelief. He is not leaving.

"I'll show you what you want to see, tonight."

----

Wanna know what's going to happen later that night ? 👀 make sure to tell me. Hope yall enjoyed this. 🖤🖤🖤⚘️⚘️⚘️

[crimsonhydrangeavn]

Hello I hope I'm not bothering you but and I hope this isn't a triggering question but how would teagan react to the mc absolutely hating them after the breakup like they don't want him anywhere near them and will not hesitate to call the police on him or just straight up pepper spray/taze him/judo toss him on the ground if he gets near and how would the other characters react to the mc and their intense hated of teagan I'm just curious cause I know this is how some people I know would react to a toxic ex like teagan

Don't be silly, of course you're not bothering me! I love getting asks from people interested in learning more about my characters, it makes me really happy to receive them! <3 ____

Honestly, after the initial break up Teagan decided to give you a little space to cool off since the break up was pretty brutal emotionally on you both. Though, what they didn't expect was for you to move out and travel halfway across the country to a god forsaken island, even if it is Saint Anne's.

If you were still livid and refused to talk to them/ engage at all they would be pissed. Of course they would try to play nice at first, but once it was clear that it wasn't going to work they would switch tactics.

They would try to manipulate the others into helping them smooth things over with you. That there was a huge misunderstanding and you BOTH needed to talk to get closure. Depending on how you both play your cards, some of the more gullible love interests could possibly be tricked into helping Teagan get you alone so you can "smooth" things over. (Granted that's only if you didn't tell them everything that went down between you two.)

If that plan failed, they would have no choice but to MAKE you listen whether you wanted to or not. They'd stalk, harrass, and blackmail you into listening and engaging with them. They refuse to let you go, why else would they come all this way? No, they WILL make sure you come back with them, one way or another. ____ As for the love interest's reactions, this is how they'd react if their first introduction to Teagan was of you viciously attacking or threatening them.

Garret would immediately step in between you two, effectively shielding you from them, stare them down, and tell them to leave before he made sure they'd regret it. What the FUCK did they do to you to make you react like that? He'd try to get the story from you later on, and regardless if you told him or not he'd personally make sure Teagan NEVER bothered you again.

Marcelo would be stunned by your vitriol, but protectively step in between you two and try to assess the situation. Once you told him they were an ex, his attitude would shift and he'd definitely become more protective and lead you away, warning Teagan to get lost. He'd insist that you called him if Teagan ever showed their face around you again and he and his friends would make sure to take care of them for you.

Camilla would honestly be shocked. Who on earth could make her otherwise calm and sweet roommate this angry? She'd quickly step in and immediately have your back. You could fill her in on the details later, there was no way you'd act this way unless you had a good reason to. Of course, once you did fill her in on the detail she would join in on the hostility towards them, both in person and online.

While Rita would initially be surprised by your reaction, She'd probably grab your arm, and gently hold you back because there's no way she was about to let you get some charges filed against you. Though, once you filled her in on the details, she would become scarily cold and firm towards Teagan. A terrifying silent rage would overcome her and YOU would actually want to remove her from the situation in fear of what she could possibly be capable of. Once Teagan was out of the equation, it would take some time before Rita calmed down enough to apologize for her reaction and make sure you were okay and that you know you can rely on her if Teagan ever bothered you again.

[p-r-art]

The Half Hashira Kap. 4

Muzan sped forwards and stopped right in front of me. I looked up at him, as I am clearly smaller than him. His red eyes. All I see in them right now is malice and destruction.

"It's enough for me that you're not under my control (Y/N). Disrespecting me is crossing your boundaries."

His right hand moved to my neck and slowly began to squeeze. But he knows he's not scaring me off. Rather the opposite.

"Muzan~" I spoke to him in an almost flirtatious tone.

He briefly lost his composure towards me.

This allowed me to free myself from his grip. I rushed behind him. I placed my right hand over his right shoulder from behind and my left hand ran over his left hip up to his chest. As I use my abilities I can look over his left shoulder by hovering. I grinned and brought my lips close to his ear.

"Muzan~ I know, let me make it up to you later when we're alone. And I'm sorry for my disrespect, but Tanjiro and his friends are fun and pique my interest in more ways than one~" I almost purr at him as my cheeks turn red and lewd thoughts flood my mind.

Muzan tenses up under me and, as always, doesn't know how to react when others are around. When we are alone, he knows exactly how to act.

"(Y/N) what do you mean by interesting?" Douma interrupted the moment.

I turned to him and carefully approached him in his robe. With my fingers, I grabbed his chin so he can look directly at me. Douma's cheeks turn red from my closeness.

"Douma~ what do you think we do when we're alone? Interesting in a way and because I want to see what else happens in the fights. If it gets too dicey, I'll save them and intervene." At the end of the sentence, I shrug and look at the Obermonde, who are still kneeling.

-I could never let one of the pillars die. They mean too much to me- It came into my head.

"You're testing my patience." Muzan finally spoke, but his voice didn't sound as harsh as before.

I giggled.

"My sweet upper moons I think it would be better if you left." I spoke calmly. Probably a little too calmly.

The atmosphere in the air became unbearable.

Long nails came out of my hands. The demons were confused and didn't seem to understand what was going on.

"I'm testing your patience demon king? Which one of us can go through the day and night? I think I am the perfection of us." I got louder and louder towards the end of the sentence.

Before any of the demons could react, I had ripped an arm off the black-haired man in the white hat with my speed.

"HOW DARE YOU HURT THE MASTER!!!" Akaza screams and tries to run towards me, but the injured demon king steps in and stops him. His arm had regenerated immediately, of course.

I could also feel his presence right behind me. His hot breath could be felt on my bare skin on my shoulder. It made me shiver. Muzan knows exactly how to get me.

"I know you're perfect. You are what I strive for. But there's something else I want..."

He paused and turned me round so that I had to look him straight in the eye.

"You. I want you (Y/N)."

I've known that for many, many years, but he also knows he'll never have me.

I smile, almost sadly.

"You know you'll never have me. And I think it's better if I leave now."

I looked at the woman sitting at the biwa. She played and let me disappear.

POV On Muzan and the upper moons:

"(Y/N)!!!" Douma shouted.

But the woman was already gone.

"Master how so you don't punish her for what she did to you?" Akaza said, still angry.

"Shut up number 3 you don't know what you're meddling in." Upper Moon number 1 interfered and silenced the other demon.

Silence reigned between them all. It was almost unbearable.

"Kokushibo will keep an eye on her when she's travelling with those ridiculous demon slayers." The man addressed nodded and disappeared immediately.

Everyone else disappeared as well and went about their missions.

"(Y/N)...Even if I have to wait centuries for you, you'll be mine eventually. Even if I have to kill your husband to do it." Muzan muttered, a maniacal smile appearing on his face.

[peachyyykid]

Deceivers Ch. 22 - Plans

word count: 3681

Chapter 21 - Hope

Chapter 23 - Travels

The general mood on the Victoria Punk was bad. 

Kid's brows were furrowed even more than usual and Flipper, Mammo and the others kept pacing around on deck. Killer, who stood next to a brooding Kid on the gallery, watched them through his mask. 

"Well", he started, but he had to admit that even he didn't know what to say.

You had left, Kid was pissed, everyone was worried. Basically, all shit at the moment.

"What the fuck did she think taking the tiniest boat out to the sea in the New World?"

"Worried much?", Killer inquired, knowing well how Kid would react.

He said nothing and just stormed off, his hair looking wilder than usual.

Flipper, Heat and Mammo came around the corner after Kid had left and situated themselves next to Killer. The latter looked at them and waited.

"We have come to a conclusion", Heat started.

"We have got to help (y/n)", Flipper added.

"I owe her my life!", Mammo exclaimed and the three nodded in unison.

"She's one of us now", Flipper said, "and we leave no man behind."

Mammo's curls bounced as he nodded in agreement.

"Women neither. Or anyone else for that matter", Heat chimed in.

Jonah came running from afar and halted next to the other three men, who were standing around Killer in a half circle with their arms crossed. 

"It's about (y/n) isn't it? I really think we should-"

Killer interrupted him.

"Guys, I know. You don't need to break a leg here to try to convince me. I feel the same. She's pleasant company and a good doctor, we need her here."

Kid needs her here first and foremost, he thought.

"But we also want her to be here", Flipper added, no room for discussion. The others nodded again.

"Of course", Killer sighed.

"I'm not even mad at her for knocking me straight out with that stupid apple", Jonah whispered, more to himself, "that was genius."

"The problem is that we have no idea where she is."

Everyone eyed their shoes. Killer was right. 

"Okay, realistically", Mammo started, then pausing for a second to think, his hands folded in front of his lips, "she's been gone for like what, not even twenty four hours?"

"She gave me the apple at like nine, half nine."

"Would mean it's been about twenty hours", Flipper concluded.

"We should talk to the navigator and ask how far you could get in that time and in which possible directions!"

"Guys", Killer interrupted their hopeful babbling, a little louder now.

"I don't want to sound too pessimistic, but the sea here is fucking brutal, and I think your positive spirit clouds your brains. You know how rough it is out here, maybe she isn't even alive anymore. She's not like us and her 'ship' isn't more than a twig to the waves here. We can't throw our logic overboard."

Realisation hit them. Of course, Killer was right. 

"We are unfortunately also bound to the restrictions of the log pose."

There was a deafening silence, apart from small waves breaking at the hull. Flipper nervously fumbled his pistol and Jonah tugged at his bottom lip.

"I know she's your friend", Killer conceded, "we'll figure something out."

He left them with heavy steps to go and find Kid, who was probably looming in his workshop. 

Killer scolded himself on the way there. He knew that he had said 'we'll figure something out', but that was such a stupid thing to say. That was a promise that could not be held under certain circumstances.

He knocked on the workshop door twice. Angry rumbling could be heard from the room.

"This better be fucking Killer", Kid spat through his teeth. 

Fiery eyes met Killer's mask when the door swung open.

"I'm coming in", the blond said, and Kid didn't obstruct.

"We don't need to help her", was he first thing the captain said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders, but Killer knew better.

"I'm speaking to my best friend and not my captain when I say this, but holy hell, shut the fuck up Kid. It's just the two of us. No need to play tough. I know you've been walking up and down this room for the last ten minutes."

Kid's brows furrowed. He was annoyed that Killer knew him too well. On the other hand, he was relieved that his first mate has granted him the opportunity to show some emotion at least. His facade faltered instantly as he sat down in his big chair in the workshop.

"It's my fault."

Killer didn't say a word. He was waiting for more because he knew there was more. Kid leaned forward and let his head drop into the palm of his hand, chin propped up so he could mindlessly stare at the wall.

"I failed her."

Pause.

"We'll figure something out."

Shit, I said it again, Killer thought.

"I physically cannot bear to lose her", Kid choked up. 

He didn't cry though, he was just angry at himself. He felt a tug in his heart when you crossed his mind, the thoughts of how you slowly warmed up to him because you just seemed to know how to treat him, when to annoy him, when to be patient with him, when to question his words, when to listen to them, how to decipher the look in his eyes and how to touch him physically and mentally. 

He couldn't possibly know that you in fact did not know how to read him like he thought you did, it was all just natural, spontaneous and whatever felt right in certain moments. He couldn't know how many times you had struggled with his behaviour and his actions, not being sure how to react.

He just liked you so much that it felt like you were the only person besides Killer who actually understood him, although that wasn't always the case. And he had toyed with the opportunity to make you stay forever by disappointing you. 

He swore to himself that he would make you his forever - no matter what lengths he had to go to - as soon as he found you. He had to find you. The slight chance that he would never see you again couldn't be accepted under any circumstance.

He remembered the day you arrived on the ship. At that time, he wanted to get rid of you as soon as possible to avoid trouble, even if it meant killing you. 

When interrogating you he found himself wanting to fuck you into submission all of a sudden because you were just so pretty tied up. You seemed so fragile and easy to manipulate, to ruin, but then he felt pity for you when he saw the hoof of the flying dragon burned into your soft skin.

To his surprise, Brone wanting to violate you had made him so unbelievably angry. That night he made an example of what would happen to his men if they even looked at you the wrong way. Was he already so obsessed with you at this point? He didn't recall, but it could have been.

It was always your eyes. Your stupid, innocent doe eyes looking up at him with not enough fear. You should have been more afraid of him, like everyone else, he thought, but there was always this little hint of trust in them that drove him mad. You even slept in the same bed, just because he told you to. So easy to manipulate, and not scared enough. 

And the look in them when he walked in on you naked in the infirmary. The timing was bad, but he felt his dick twitching slightly at the thought of seeing you so vulnerable. The image of your body had been burned into the back of his brain that day, it was so perfect, and he then decided that it was just for him to use. 

When you nearly had Mammo killed he was aggravated and on edge, but when you saved his life, he couldn't help but be absolutely impressed with your skills. It became clear to him that you were more than what he initially saw in you, and he had been slightly ashamed of making you a mere object in his head.

Then it became increasingly difficult for him to be around you, so he chose to ignore you when he was overwhelmed, which was more often than he cared to admit. That he regretted too, but it was the only option for him to not go insane, because why did a woman have such an effect on him?

He had a similar feeling when he watched you being pulled onto your stupid fiancés ship, whatever his name was. He had a bad feeling about him from the first time he laid eyes on him, he was just a greyish, squirming maggot and you were... simply above him. By far. Too pretty, too clever, too lively. Seeing you broken because of this excuse of a man had evoked something in Kid. For the first time, he had felt the need to protect you forever.

He huffed when he remembered how he called you an angel. He meant it. He killed twice for you, actually three times when you considered Brone, and he would do it again and again, because you were an angel. He would never let you kill. He swore after meeting and finally getting rid of Big Patch that something as grave as murder would never get the chance to ruin you. 

Not because he thought you were incapable. No, he had seen you sparring with Killer many days on the Victoria Punk and your medical knowledge did the rest. Because killing wasn't easy. It seemed easy to him when he did it, but it always leaves a mark and poisons one’s thoughts. Never would he allow that to happen to you. You had enough to deal with after what happened to you.

Then he remembered how he had felt dismay when he realised that he liked holding you. Just because it was new to him, and he wanted more. On the day he sent you shopping with Heat he didn't even want to suck on your neck in front of the entire crew. He smirked a little at the thought. It was just this egging feeling of possibly loosing you when you weren't under his watchful eye that made him want to show everyone that you were off limits.

And then he had claimed you - halfway at least. Just to ruin it a few days later by trying to live by his old ways when exploring an island. Visiting a whore. Your face when he finally got you back had been horrible for him. He was sure you hated him. It had pushed him to show you a more vulnerable side of him, and luckily it worked. 

Generally, you pushed so many buttons in him, challenging him. The first person he apologised to in a decade had been you.

He had made up for it by fucking you senseless. He replayed your little moans in his mind over and over again. You were so perfect, just for him. Fucking you never bored him, which was new to him. The same sensation he had when he discovered that he wanted you to stay with him after he finished. Not once, but every damn time. He was obsessed with every inch of your skin, every word you uttered from your pretty lips and every second he could spend with you. 

You had flipped another switch in him when you spoke back to him in the kitchen where he fucked you with dried blood all over him. He saw a completely new side of you, an unhinged one that was proof to him that you felt comfortable around him. He made you promise not to leave. 

Initially he was pissed off when he realised that you broke that promise. But now after thorough rethinking and reassessing the situation he found himself to be at fault entirely. 

He needed you so badly.

The pleasant memories were slowly replaced by dread. 

"I haven't seen you like this since Victoria", Killer stated, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Don't remind me. That's something else."

Victoria's murder was a sensitive topic, but their time before it happened and the feelings he (and Killer) had for her were different than the feelings he had for you.

"We were kids back then and now I...", he started, no intentions to finish the sentence.

Usually, a normal person would end the sentence with 'I know how real love feels like' or 'I am actually in love with her', but Kid wasn't the average guy. The possibility of being head over heels in love with you didn't cross his mind, he was just that oblivious to his own thoughts.

He took your wanted poster that he stored on his workshop desk and looked at the picture. The girl in it was not his (y/n), it was just a ghostly form of her. You had looked like this when you stumbled on his ship. Dull hair, empty, teary eyes with dark circles to the floor, cuts, bruises, and sunken shoulders. 

He imagined what you looked like before your world shattered. Soft, innocent, smiling from ear to ear while doing things you loved. He didn't know. But he knew how much you improved while being with his crew and... maybe him? He hoped that he played a part in you coming back to life. He watched it happen in front of his own eyes. How the sparkle returned to your eyes, which made them seem brighter when the sun hit them. How the frown slowly turned into a smile, showing your straight teeth occasionally. 

It had been fascinating to watch you interact with his men, too. How effortlessly you handled their naggings and how you were able to joke with them. At first, Kid had kept an eye on them to avoid another Brone situation, but he soon realised that the only thing they felt for you was brotherly love. 

Inexpressible anger and fury spread in his chest when he looked at what the World Nobles had done to you. Irritated, he crumpled the wanted poster into a tiny ball and tossed it into a corner. 

He leaned back in the chair and his fingers lingered on the arm rest, impatiently tapping on the cold leather. His frowning face still rested in his other hand.

"You're actually scared shitless", Killer said, his voice raised due to surprise.

"I'm never", Kid answered too promptly. 

He was. The uncertainty was driving him insane. The weird tug in his heart was back, but stronger. The unfamiliar feeling of fear mixed with anger. Anger he knew, he could calculate it, use it to his advantage, but fear was something he never experienced before. What would he be scared of anyways? He was always the strongest, his friends and his crew were always the strongest, there was no need to be afraid. 

But there was still you.

"Please help me, Killer."

He hadn't noticed that his fingers weren't lightly tapping the arm rest anymore, they were instead digging into the roughened leather and hurt from cramping. 

Killer raised his brows under his mask. Seeing Kid vulnerable was relatively new to him, and it made him nervous. 

Both the crew and their captain were too emotionally invested in the matter to see clearly and think rationally. Obviously, Killer would go to hell and back to help, but there was still the lingering fear that you were beyond saving and as of now, Killer was the only person on the ship who saw this spiralling out of control. 

"Kid..."

He didn't answer.

"You know what could happen, right?"

Kid didn't reply on purpose. Of course he knew. Best case was that you were still sailing or that you had stopped on an island, worst case was that you were dead or that the nobles caught you. 

"We shouldn't mess with the World Nobles either. As soon as they have her..."

Killer was right. Even Kid knew that facing the Dragons and expecting a good outcome was stupid and would never happen. Strawhat punched Charlos once and all hell broke loose on Sabaody. 

"We won't. But we will get her back, I owe her that."

And I need her, he added in his head.

Killer placed one of his large hands on Kid's shoulder and tapped it lightly.

"I know. We'll come up with something."

Fuck, he thought, again.

"Will you tell her about all the things that were brewing in your head just now?", Killer asked.

Unbeknownst to the masked man, Kid's eyes widened. Killer wouldn't and couldn't know what exactly went through his head, but he probably had vague ideas. 

"Stop doing that", Kid muttered instead of answering. Killer sighed.

"Come back on deck when you're done here, we need our captain."

Kid nodded and Killer left the room, closing the door behind him. 

Kid's hands wandered towards his face, and he buried it in his palms. He felt the lump in his throat first, then came an unfamiliar burning sensation behind his eyes. 

He let out a heavy-hearted sigh, followed by a sob and a single tear slipping out of his eye. He wiped it away immediately and he was glad that there weren't more tears forming. 

Like all the other new feelings he had discovered since meeting you, this was new as well. Sadness, dread, fear, and anger turned into a dangerous cocktail, brewing in his heart and the pit of his stomach. 

Before he could release the tension by hammering his fists into the wooden wall, Shiki's voice made him halt.

"Captain Kid! Quick!"

It took him only half a second to leap through the door towards the deck. 

Would they be able to decipher his wandering mind just like Killer? Probably not. There was no time to check his face for remainders of tears or anything like that.

On deck, most of the crew stood around Killer holding a piece of paper. 

Eagerly, he ripped it from his hands and his eyes started scanning the letters.

Hey you guys,

You're probably wondering how the fuck I sent you this letter. Long story short: My new friends and I threatened and blackmailed the newspaper bird. I can't wait to tell you, it was an experience. Good news is, I am safe and not alone. I have help. 

I'm so sorry for leaving. I really am! It was stupid, I didn't think it through, and I foolishly thought I could handle it alone. I was too chicken to ask for your help. I thought maybe you wouldn't want to help me. I realised too late that that's not the case at all. You guys (all of you!) are the closest thing I had to a family in months. But I will tell you all that to your faces when we see each other again, because that's what you deserve, and I don't have much time. 

They have J and my brother. And by they I mean everyone we don't like. Captain was right, something was fishy. Remember J? You should know where she lives. I will be heading there tomorrow. Might take me a day or two to get there, depending. I have a ride, but unfortunately, it's not durable enough to drop me off with you.

I don't expect you to be there for me after I drugged our night watch and the captain and fled, but I wanted to let you know that I'm safe. The sea didn't get me.

I WILL NOT do anything stupid, I promise. No confrontation and such. I just want to do everything I can to help my brother and my best friend. My new friends can't come with me, so I'm on my own.  

I miss you. Please wish me luck.

The next paragraph is just for our captain. Seriously, hand the letter to him now. I mean it. I know that F and J are still reading it at this point. Hand it over or I WILL cut of your fingers one by one with a rusty butter knife. 

Hey you,

I am sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I broke my promise. If you are willing to give me another chance at being your... doctor, I will gladly take it and not mess up. I will make up for everything, no matter how and how long it takes. You're confusing me most of the time, but right now I'm sure that I'd rather be where you are than anywhere else. 

Love,

Doc

Kid smirked at your attempt to keep Flipper and Jonah from reading the last bit, it was so cute that the letter could have only been from you. There was no hidden message, but he still was glad that you didn't use any full names or other identifying indicators.

His index finger brushed past your signature. Doc. He liked that.

He decided that you should indeed think of making up for your actions, but you probably had cleaning the toilets in mind. His idea was much better, but he would never tell you that there was no need to actually make it up to him. 

He had already forgiven you. And now, since he knew you were safe, there was no need to sit around doing nothing but drowning in self-pity and sorrows. 

"We have a goal now", Kid bellowed, and his crew joined in with cheers.

"Theres only one problem...", Mammo sighed, quickly silencing the men around him.

"Oh, come on!", Flipper exclaimed.

"Well, the island where Jeany lives is already far behind us. There's no way to get back there! We would need to go through the calm belt to make it, and you know damn well that that would be our end. Our ship won't make it."

Before the general mood on the Victoria Punk could plummet again, the navigator chimed in, holding binoculars in front of his eyes.

"Ours won't, but theirs will."

He pointed towards the open sea, and they all squinted their eyes to see better.

Very far away, at the horizon, they could make out a ship. The white sails with the blue bird logo were prominent against the setting sun and Kid started laughing lowly.

"What a fucking coincidence", he sneered.

It was a coincidence. The marines weren't looking for anything special, just patrolling the New World. They were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

[whynotjohnlock]

Hey, hope you're having a great day :D

Tw for self harm.

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One thing I don't like about fics with self harm is that the doctor ends up feeling a bit overdramatic, and I want people not to make a big deal out of my problem and just assure me that they'll stuck with me

So can you please write a thing where the doctor discovers that the reader is self harming, and they just silently being over a first aid box to patch up the wounds while the reader is furiously apologising, then the doctor just looks up at us and is like "hey, don't apologize, I just want the best for you"

(I tried to follow your request as closely as possible, let me know if you need me to change something.)

A/N: Hey, I hope you're ok. I want you to know that whoever you are you are loved and special and unique. I hope if you need it you get help (to you anonymous, and anyone out there struggleling) because you deserve it. Here is some fullfy 11th doctor without drama.

Warning for people easily offended to not click keep reading. Your media consumption is not my responsibility.

______________________________________________

The inside TARDIS was calm and peaceful, but not enough as to quiet the racing tanted emotions filling your soul and the voices urging you on.

You knew it was irrational to hurt yourself. You knew you shouldn't. But those thoughts did not stop the madness.

Perhaps some part of yourself believed you deserved what you did to yourself. There had been more than enough occasions that a mistake on your part had cost the lives of others. Traveling with the Doctor was not always fun.

Maybe you felt like little more than an ant compared to all the important people that surrounded you. The people you traveled with could handle so much. Rory had waited 2000 years for Amy. River has to live with the love of her life not knowing who she was half of the time. Amy had killed a version of herself to keep living with her boys. The doctor was feared and loved throughout the cosmos for his cleverness and ferocity. They were all so strong, and in that way so unlike you.

Perhaps another part of you believed they where better off without you. You didn't want to slow down such amazing people after all.

You didn't know what had brought you in the bathroom on your nees with a sharp small kitchen knife in hand, or why you felt numb to everything but the new scars on your hand, and you didn't care.

It felt so good. It felt good, and that was the only thing that mattered. Blood flowed out of skin freely, and you just didn't care.

That was until of course, the Doctor opened the door. You felt guilty, foolish and stupid as tears ran like rivers down your tattered form.

"Hey Y/N, I was wondering if-" the doctor froze in his tracks, eyes filled with understanding and pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You gasped for metaphorical air in your drowning mind.

You experienced him to be angry. You expected the doctor would go full incoming storm and demand why you would be as weak as to be harmful to yourself. Fear flashed in your face and you prepared for the worst. Would he even want to travel with you anymore.

The doctor was, infact angry, but as soon as he read the terror in (Y/N)'s eyes he stopped himself from anger because he knew being outraged and loud would not help his precious companion.

He hugged Y/N. The Doctor clasped his arm around his troubled companion until his fingerteps where white and Y/N dropped the knife onto the bathroom floor.

You kept on saying the same words over and over like a broken record. "I'm sor- Im sorr- m' so'y" the violent shudders of sadness made your speech nearly incoherent.

"Shhhh. It's going to be ok. I'm going to clean up your wounds now, ok?"

You nodded numbly.

Quietly and sadly, the Doctor pulled out some bandages, gauze and Alien bottle of wound cleaner.

You continued to keep sobbing, incapable of words or anything else for that matter.

The doctor was very careful to not react in a way that would scare Y/N. He contacted to patch up his friend and sit next to them in silence, because he understood without words what was going on in his companion's head.

He had been there himself not to long after the Timewar and the loss of his children.

After the blood flow was stopped the doctor picked up his companion, gentle as to not reopen any wounds. He walked out of the bathroom and laid you out on the bed the TARDIS materialized for you. It was only then you slowed the tears down your face.

Softly, the Timelord spoke, "Y/N, do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"That's ok. We don't have to talk now. You can tell me everything later or whenever you want. There is no pressure or guilt in the feelings you have or the things you have done. I'm not angry. I just want what's best for you."

The Doctor continued when he was met with silence. "You are an amazing person Y/N. You don't deserve to be in pain. You are not unimportant. I haven't meet anyone unimportant in 900 years of traveling. You are worth more than gold and diamonds and whatever things humans use for currency in your time period."

The doctor started to trace his fingers in southing circles on Y/N's back. "We all have issues. I'm not going to yell at you. I have issues too, and I'm sill grieving from the loss of my people."

"I just want you to come to me if you ever think about this sort of thing, because I will support you until my bones fade and my two hearts stop beating; that's not an overdramatic statement, that's just how I feel."

"I know you probably want me to shut up now, so I will. I'm going to go get you some (Favorite snack) and put on (favorite show that's not doctor who)" The doctor started to leave to go make Y/N's favorite comfort food, a hand grabbed his open palm, preventing him from leaving.

Y/N's voice was muddled in the covers but it was till clear what the words were. "Stay."

The doctor's eyes softened at this and layed down on the bead with them. Dispute finding out today about the mental challenges his friend was going through, the Doctor was hopeful. In his 900 years adventureing he had seen thousands of miracles and one of the greatest he had ever witnessed was you.

The Doctor knew you would figure out whatever was troubling you eventually. And when you fell asleep in his arms he made a promise, just like the promise he made when he chose the name doctor, unspoken and unbreakable:

"Whatever it takes I will Help Y/N unti they are ok. Not because Y/N is broken, but because they deserve kindness after everything they have given to this universe and to me."

When Y/N was ready to talk, they would. For now cuddling in one another's arms was everything the both of them needed.

Together, warmly and safely with one another, they were happy.

And for that wonderful afternoon, that was enough.

[otakween]

Digimon Tamers: Battle of Adventurers

Eh...gotta be honest, I found this pretty underwhelming. It had its moments, don't get me wrong, but the plot felt pretty generic and the ending was rushed. Still had fun, but the emotional investment was lacking.

Notes:

Reddit told me to watch this after episode 18, so I got the timing a little off, but I felt like it'd be good to watch prior to the digiworld episodes. The only timeline wonkiness is that this takes place before Culumon's kidnapping, which I've already seen, but that's fine.

In another moment of ~fate~ the movie begins with Guilmon dying of heat (not literally lol) and it was "feels like 101" where I am today so...can relate.

I was a pretty sheltered kid, so IDK how I would react to my parents making me travel by myself at 10...not that I'm against that, I just know 10 year old me woulda been a big crybaby about it.

Kinda weird that they gave us 2 title screens for this, one of which was just ripped from the TV show. The whole vibe was kind of a mixed bag in this, sometimes the animation felt pretty much the same quality as the show and sometimes it felt like they were stepping it up, not super consistent.

"Battle of Adventurers" is a pretty uninspired title. I feel like they could have either put something about Okinawa or the v-pet virus in the title instead so it would stand out a bit more...

Speaking of the V-Pet, I thought it was super charming with its crappy CGI lol. I totally would have fell for it in 2001. Kinda hard to believe that literally everyone downloaded it though (doctors, pilots, etc.) Or was it more like that one U2 album that was automatically distributed to everyone?

Guilmon begging to get out of the suitcase was stressful! How did he not suffocate? D: (do digimon even need to breathe?)

They really did the movie-only character (Minami) dirty this time. She had to be re-traumatized about her dead dog so many times! Just felt cruel...

All of the Okinawa cultural stuff was fun, especially the Okinawa-inspired digimon. If Digimon Go was a thing, you know they'd be region specific.

When Ruki's mom was like "oh, it's so comfortable flying on the plane!" I was like "okay, rich." That's the only explanation because flying economy is always a bad time.

Although a lot of the character animation was kinda meh, the battle animation is where this movie really shined. It was like little pockets of hype and there was a really good variety of enemy digimon. I was especially excited to see Anomalocarimon cuz it's been a minute and there was a lot of attention to detail with his bit.

Siesamon's design was really pretty, but I don't like his resting angry face. I wish they would have made his face more emotive because it kind of diminished some emotional moments...

There was one scene where it showed some buildings blowing up (because of the virus) and one of them suspiciously looked like a power plant...hopefully I'm wrong cuz oof...

Loved Mephismon's design, but with Gulfmon they did that thing that they did with VenomVamdemon where he has a second face by his crotch area...don't like that (although he is a centaur, so not technically his crotch)

There were some legit scary moments in this! The car crash scene was pretty violent and Minami screaming as she ran from the lasers also felt pretty intense for a kid's movie. (I haven't peeked at the dub yet, wondering if anything was cut)

I thought the final battle was weak as heck. Phase 1 took like 2 seconds and then phase 2 just felt kinda arbitrary like we were going through the motions. We did get a new attack though (trinity something or other). It felt kind of weird for them to just show that without any acknowledgement, but oh well. I'm sure it'll come back at some point. I was a little disappointed tbh because I thought they were doing some sort of 3-way jogress fusion

The shot with 3D MegaloGrowmon and 2D Rapidmon and Taomon was a glorious 2000s moment

IDK why but it gave me Power Rangers vibes

Yeah so this felt pretty disposable, they tried to kind of tie things to Digimon Adventure with Omegamon and Apocalymon, but the connection was pretty vague and forced. I rather Tamers just be separate without the callbacks

While I'm a big fan of short runtimes, I do wonder if this one could have benefitted from being a little longer, just to let things breath more

[blaisenova]

how not to talk someone off of a ledge

Miguel O'Hara likes to go up to the roof of Spider-Society to think. What about? That's no one's business but his own. Though, unfortunately, Peter doesn't seem to agree.

or:

Peter B. Parker REALLY doesn't know how to talk someone off of a ledge.

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

my first TRUE atsv work on here!

it's a bit of an exploration into miguel and the way that he reacts to things in atsv because i think it's really interesting. angry man? aggressive man? no, just stressed and afraid. plus can you really blame a guy for having a bit of a breakdown when everyone keeps pushing all of his buttons and doesn't stop even when he makes it VERY clear that they should?? he needs to learn how to handle his feelings better (read: learn to TALK ABOUT THEM AT ALL) and everyone else needs to learn when to BACK OFF. i'm looking at you peter. i love you so so much but you know how to push miguel's buttons and you USE THAT KNOWLEDGE.

you also get a bit of a parental miguel moment because he is soft for children and i will not be told otherwise. idiot parents or not, miguel would do anything for little mayday. apologies again for if any of my spanish is off at all. i'm fairly advanced but there's still some stuff i struggle with. if you speak spanish, please feel free to correct me! i am always always open and willing to learn!

i should warn you that there's some very brief religious exploration at the very beginning of the work, but it's not the main focus by far so i haven't tagged it. there is, however, a deep exploration of miguel's suicidal thoughts, so please watch out for that!

as always, the link to this work on ao3 is in the reblogs if you prefer to read there like i do, and thank you so much for reading!! <3

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

A peculiar fact of life, as undeniable as the sky being blue or the sun being a star, was that the wind rushed with more and more desperate urgency the higher up into the atmosphere you got. 

Of course, Miguel knew, logically, why that was – there was less friction at higher altitudes, so the air was able to travel more freely – and he knew, even more logically, that it was stupid to try and find some sort of bigger meaning in something; that it only ever made him feel even more small. But, sometimes, despite knowing it was stupid and that he was indescribably tired of trying to find meaning in the meaningless or humanity in the inhuman, Miguel would get caught up in his own head, and he would begin to wonder if, maybe, the wind at the top of Babylon Towers pulled at him so desperately because it was trying to bring him over the edge. As if it knew that, even though he could catch himself, he wouldn’t. As if it knew that, if he just got one sign that he was meant to fall, he’d let himself.

It shouldn’t have meant anything, that the earth was functioning the way that it was meant to, especially since Miguel was the furthest thing from a spiritual person, but it wasn’t as easy as he’d like to pretend to forget the way that he’d been raised.

Miguel didn’t believe in a god.

Maybe it would have been easier to blame all of his woes on some higher power that had written his suffering into the stars millenia before he was born, but it felt like a shitty excuse for all of the things that he’d done to himself. It was supposed to make him feel better, to know that it wasn’t his fault that everything he touched fell apart, but all it did was make him feel trapped; suffocated. Who would want to be written into a destiny like this?

No, Miguel didn’t believe in a god.

His mother had raised him to be Catholic; fearing of a God with a capital g that had the power to save and destroy him all at once, but Miguel had always thought that his father had possessed that same exact ability and there was nothing all too godly about him. Having power didn’t make you a god, he’d decided, and the sentiment had only been made to feel more and more true as time went on. After all, he had power, and he was even further from god than his dad had been.

Miguel didn’t believe in a god.

But he would be a liar if he said that there weren’t still times that he wanted to break down and pray to a higher power – that either didn’t exist or loathed him completely – to make his pain stop. It was stupid, and childish, and Miguel thought he’d grown out of the urge the first time he realised that he had the power to stop the pain. Miguel was no god, though his life was in his own hands, for better or for worse, so he’d stopped praying. Even when he could think of nothing else to do but plead, Miguel did not pray.

Nevertheless, as his legs hung off of the edge of the roof of Babylon Tower’s – Spider Society’s carefully built and refurbished headquarters and, also, the location of what used to feel like home – Miguel could only silently ask of the wind to do what he was too afraid to.

There was no afterlife. That’s what he was counting on.

Each inhale burned his lungs, and he couldn’t be sure if it was because of all of the pollution in Nueva York’s atmosphere or if it was just because he was trying so hard not to burst into tears. Daring to take a breath would be to invite a sob, and Miguel was far too tired to cry any more tears, so, instead, he stilled his chest until he could no longer, then sucked in as quick of an inhale as he could before stilling once more.

There weren’t even stars anymore. The lights of the city were so blindingly bright that they drowned out the entire sky. Before figuring out how to jump universes, Miguel had never seen a star except for in pictures. Before he knew how beautiful they really were, it hadn’t really bothered him; he couldn’t have known what he was missing without having seen it for himself.

Even the most high definition of screens couldn’t capture the way that a million stars dappled the sky like freckles, twinkling and dancing; unmoving yet ever-changing.

The first time Miguel had seen the stars – really looked at them – on Earth 47219 (he could never forget), he’d been frozen in place. It felt as if he was being gazed upon by the universe itself, and he was staring right back; unabashedly marvelling at them. He remembered feeling small, and that was hardly a new feeling to him but he’d never felt it quite like he had in that moment. It wasn’t something he was being made to feel by another person, and, somehow, that had made it okay. He was small, but small in the way that he never got to be; small in the way a child was, or should have been.

And, really, stars shouldn’t have been the thing to wow him; after all, there was an entire, infinite multiverse with billions of versions of himself and every other person. The scope of the infinity of a single universe shouldn’t have compared to the scope of the infinity of the multiverse that contained it, but they were both infinities, weren’t they? So, in the end, they were the same, right?

Nevertheless, there was something about being faced with the natural vision of space’s endlessness that didn’t compare to computer generated strands of code that simply painted a picture of what infinity might look like. Nothing could be such a wholly genuine picture of boundlessness other than the real thing.

As Miguel looked up at the sky now, though, and was met with nothing but a blank grey-blue, he almost felt even smaller than he did when looking up at the stars. Small, but in the way that he was used to feeling; small, but in the way that made him afraid.

There were more Spider-People resting within the confines of the building beneath him than he would ever bother to count, so why did he still feel so alone? Infinite universes, infinite people, infinite opportunities, and, yet, Miguel had never felt so lonely. He’d searched for a solution to the hollowness once before, and he’d only found great loss – a loss he shouldn’t get to grieve when he was the one who’d caused it. Why weren’t the people he had here enough for him? Why couldn’t he just believe that Gabriel loved him, and that Xina no longer loathed him for how he’d hurt her? 

None of it was ever enough, and, at a certain point, Miguel had to admit that it wasn’t something lacking in anyone else that left him so empty; it was the fact that he tore himself open further and further each day in search of anything to fix him and was bled out in the process.

Infinity really was an unfathomably large concept. How could anyone be expected to stop the bleeding of a wound that was ever-expanding?

The wind whistled loudly in his ears, almost deafening. It urged him ever closer to the edge and the great fall that could swallow him up if he’d let it. It felt like a comfort; an assurance that maybe everything could be okay, even if only in those brief moments before it stopped, though that was a bit of a comforting promise, too.

The wind, thousands of feet in the air on top of Babylon Towers, was so loud, in fact, that Miguel missed the sound of footsteps approaching the door until it had already swung open and it was too late.

“Miguel?!” a voice shouted over the whipping air current.

Miguel’s shoulders grew even more tense, if possible. He peered over his shoulder, scowling at a certain Spider in a fluffy pink robe before he turned his attention back to the cityscape before him. If he tried hard enough, he could almost pretend that the passing headlights of cars and the faraway lit up windows of apartments were a starscape; one that didn’t inspire such unfathomable fear.

“Hey, man, what are you doing up here?” came the call once more, and Miguel tucked his head down as he hunched over.

“Avoiding you,” he shouted back, voice whisked away by the wind, but Peter seemed to hear him anyway.

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it!” he said, and Miguel was sure he could almost hear a laugh.

He grumbled, twisting his body just enough so that he could glare at the intruder without breaking his neck in the process. “I was.”

“Yeah, well, you know how it is,” Peter called, stumbling forward against the wind to unceremoniously plop himself down next to Miguel with a huff of exhaustion. He scooted himself over, pressing his shoulder against Miguel’s – which Miguel narrowed his eyes at and leaned, ever so slightly, away – and swung his feet in the open air with an almost irreverent glee. “Spidey-sense takes me all sorts of places that I’m not invited.”

As Miguel opened his mouth to tell Peter off, he felt a small hand press against his arm, and he looked down in horror at the bright eyes and wild red hair of Mayday parker. With one hand, he took her hand into his own, then gently brought up his other to cover her eyes. His gaze immediately darted back up to her father, who he flashed his fangs at unabashedly in a snarl.

“Peter, did you bring your sho- Did you bring your baby up here?” he seethed.

And Peter, in all of his carefree naivete – which Miguel knew wasn’t fair to think when he was well aware of all the hurt the other Spider had gone through to get here – had the gall to shrug. “She needed the fresh air!” Then, after a sniff, he corrected, “air.” Then, another sniff, and his face screwed up into one of disgust. “Actually, I’m not even sure I can call this air. What do they do in your dimension, man?”

Having enough, Miguel hissed out, “Ay, pendejo, ¡cállate!” and he carefully removed his hand from May’s face to give her a fangless smile. “Hola, criatura pequeña,” he cooed, and her hand wrapped around his finger even tighter as she beamed back up at him. “Está bien. Tu papá es un idiota. ¡Sí! ¡Sí! No tiene ningún cerebro. No. Es muy tonto, yo sé. Yo sé.” 

She babbled up at him in glee, and Miguel couldn’t help but to laugh, rubbing his thumb over her little hand as he babbled back.

Apparently deciding that he’d had his fill of being left out, Peter joined in on the laugh a bit awkwardly. “Hey, Miguel, I-”

“¡Cállate!” Miguel hissed again, shooting the other man a glare once more, though far more muted now that Mayday could see. “We’re having a conversation.”

And, seamlessly, he shot back into a stream of lovingly spoken Spanish. “Sí, me entiendes, arañita, yo sé. ¿Puedes decir ‘¡qué lástima!’? ‘¡Es una pena que mi papá sea tan estúpido!’” He hissed the last word with a pointed glare at Peter, knowing the man would know what the word meant, and, sure enough, he frowned. Then, Miguel immediately turned his attention back to Mayday, voice sweet once more. “Está bien, criaturita. No permitiré que nada te pase a ti. Lo prometo.”

“Miguel, please,” Peter interrupted again, tone desperate. “Don’t teach my daughter how to trash talk me in Spanish. I don’t know what I’ll do if I accidentally upset her one day and she starts prattling off fluent Spanish insults that I only half-understand. Or, god forbid, if it happened to M.J. instead. She took French in school, Miguel.”

More than happy to oblige, Miguel sat up, looking Peter straight in the face, and, in the same sweet tone as he’d used with Mayday, deadpanned, “You’re a moron.”

May blew a raspberry up at her father, giggling delightedly.

To his credit, Peter did manage to laugh, albeit a bit breathlessly, and he ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, alright, I guess I did kind of ask for that.”

“Do you ever think?” Miguel shot back, voice finally falling back into frustration, though only enough for Peter to pick up on.

“Well, I do have a degree-” he began only to cut himself at the look he was receiving. “Look, she’s fine!” he insisted, gesturing down to Mayday who was pulling at the yarn ends of her Spider-Man hat as they were whisked in every which way by the wind, secure in her carrier. Peter moved his hand to lay on Miguel’s shoulder, and Miguel immediately batted him away, which earned a frown but, fortunately, a bit of distance. “It’s you that I’m worried about, Mig.”

At that, Miguel’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

A finger pointing to his own skull, Peter smiled a bit grimly. “The Spider-Sense never lies.”

“Right,” Miguel drawled, rolling his eyes and biting down the rising sense of dread in his stomach. “Let’s put complete trust in your magic psychic abilities you got from a Spider over two decades ago. What could go wrong?”

“It hasn’t failed me yet,” Peter hummed. Out of the corner of his eye, Miguel could see the way his hand gripped onto Mayday’s when a particularly strong gust of wind hit their backs and minutely pushed them forward. It was a small comfort. Then, “You never answered my question. What’re you doing on the roof, man?”

Questioning why all of the people he associated himself with now were insufferably stubborn – and, more importantly, what that said about him – Miguel leaned forward, elbow on his knee and head resting on his hand. His other hand was still occupied by a little Mayday hand, and he wouldn’t dare let go until she decided she wanted to. His eyes peered over the edge of the roof, at the staggeringly long way down – so high that it almost gave him vertigo – then shifted slightly up to focus on the buildings that littered the view beneath them.

“Thinking,” he finally replied after a long pause. “I came up here because nobody bothers me.” The words were punctuated with another glare, albeit somewhat half-heartedly.

Smiling a bit sheepishly, Peter leaned back onto his free hand. “Well, you can’t win ‘em all.”

“You make it very difficult to win any,” Miguel grumbled.

“Hey, I have my moments,” came the retort, backed by a snort. Then, “y’know, if you really wanted to be alone, you could’ve just locked yourself in your room, angsty teen style.”

Unamused, Miguel didn’t grace the suggestion with any more than a scoff. His eyes were once again drawn downward, fingers curling upwards around his jaw to dig into his cheek minutely, and he hummed in thought, the sound barely inaudible over the rushing air. The sheer wind cut right through Miguel’s suit, and he shivered as a chill ran over his skin, though the feeling wasn’t entirely unwelcome; a reminder that its silent urges hadn’t given up on him just yet. Unfortunately, though, neither had Peter, who leaned over to briefly brush his shoulder with his own, brows furrowed.

“I don’t like the way you’re looking at that drop, Mig,” he said. Then, with a bit of a nervous laugh, “I mean, I’ve looked at drops plenty of times, but in a ‘I think that’d be fun to skydive off of’ sorta way, not… whatever this is.”

“I’m not talking about this in front of a child, Peter,” came the immediate retort.

“Miguel, she’s a baby,” Peter insisted. “She can’t understand anything that’s going on.”

“You don’t know that,” Miguel insisted in turn, his brows furrowing. He tore his eyes from the ground below to peer at May with thinly veiled concern.

“You can’t keep cutting everyone off, Mig,” he tried again. If Peter was trying to meet Miguel’s eyes, he wouldn’t let him, keeping his full attention on Mayday instead. “You keep finding excuses to not talk about things, and I-”

“It’s not an excuse,” he interrupted, a bit too quickly.

“Miguel-”

“Don’t make me argue with you in front of Mayday,” Miguel practically demanded, finally meeting Peter’s gaze with a vulnerability neither of them were prepared for. “Please.”

Startled, Peter’s eyes went wide, and he immediately went silent, mouth, mercifully, snapping shut. Miguel heaved in a breath and forced himself to look back out at the city. He steeled himself, forcing the weakness back out of his mind, but wasn’t quite prepared for the gentle way that Mayday squeezed his finger. The feeling made Miguel perk up a bit, and he snapped his attention right back onto the baby, on unreasonably high alert. May’s big blue eyes shifted from their hands to Miguel’s face, and she babbled at him, a strange worry in her gaze, too.

“Is- Is she okay?” Miguel asked, hating the way that he stuttered without meaning to.

With a hum, Peter glanced down at the baby, shifting her hat so he could see her face. She glanced up at her father, making more nonsensical sounds that somehow still resounded as urgent in Miguel’s ears, but Peter just smiled at her softly, petting her head. “Seems like she’s worried about you, too, big guy.”

“Wha- Worried about me?” he echoed, voice strained. “Peter, she’s a baby. She can’t understand anything that’s going on.”

“You don’t know that,” Peter countered, giving him such a stupid grin that Miguel couldn’t help but to frown.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Use my words against me,” Miguel hissed. “That’s not funny.”

Holding back a smile, Peter raised a hand and tilted it from side to side. “It’s a little funny.”

“You brought your baby onto a roof, Peter,” he reminded almost exasperatedly. “Don’t try to act smart now.”

“I have a degree-”

“In what? Incompetency?”

Giving an irritated laugh, Peter shook a finger in Miguel’s direction. “You know, you are a very difficult man to talk off a ledge.”

“I’d say you’re doing a fantastic job,” Miguel said with false sweetness, then pointed towards the ground thousands of feet below, “if that’s the direction you want me to go.”

“Okay. Alright. I’ll give you that one because it was actually kind of funny-”

Miguel scoffed, letting his head fall back onto his hand. “How kind of you.”

“-but I’m being serious here.”

“Wow,” he deadpanned. “First time?”

Seemingly not as amused now, Peter frowned, and his hand gently fell back onto Mayday’s head, who squealed delightedly despite the confrontation. “Alright, you’re pushing your luck now.”

“I am?”

“How is it even possible for one guy to be in this bad of a mood?!” Peter half-shouted, throwing his head back in frustration.

Again, Miguel scoffed, and his head fell to one side to stare at the other man, unimpressed. “Would you like your answer in the form of a list or an essay?”

“I’d like an answer at all, actually,” he said desperately.

“Ah, now that’s asking too much of me,” came the response, and Miguel turned his gaze away once more.

Gawking, Peter sputtered for words for a moment before pausing, falling silent, then trying again. “Are you impossible to talk to on purpose? Jess says it’s on purpose, but Ben… Well, actually, I don’t remember what Ben said.” He laughed awkwardly, waving a hand. “It’s kinda hard to focus on the words coming out of his mouth when he’s basically a clone of me. Or- Or literally a clone of me, actually. Isn’t that freaky? Poor guy. But the point is that it was probably the same answer. Everyone thinks that-”

“Are you done?” Miguel finally interjected, glaring with every bit of vitriol he could muster, but Peter wasn’t impressed.

“I could be,” he hummed, “or I could keep going. I didn’t think you were going to answer the question, and someone’s got to fill the silence.”

Now it was Miguel’s turn to gawk, and it took a few blinks for him to muster up the wherewithal to actually answer. “You are so childish.”

“Sticks and stones, Mig,” Peter mused. “I haven’t even gotten started. I could talk for days, if you let me. Next topic?” 

Still holding onto both of their hands, Mayday squealed and bounced a bit in her carrier with a spitty razzberry, and Peter immediately smiled, drawing a preemptive groan from the man by his side. “Mayday!” he exclaimed. “Oh, I could write a book about Mayday. She’s only a baby, but she really is sophisticated, you know. She’s a baby with layers! With complexities! I know I’ve already shown you all of her pictures, but-”

“Ay, Dios, enough!” Miguel hissed, his free hand running through his hair and his eyes wide with exasperation. “Yes, it’s on purpose. Because I want to avoid this!” He gestured between Peter and himself vigorously. “This drives me nuts, get it? You drive me nuts. I don’t want to talk, and everyone seems to get that but you.”

An exasperated laugh fell from him, though he gently squeezed Mayday’s hand to assure her that everything was okay. “I came up here because I didn’t want to talk to anyone, Peter. Do you not get that? Do you not understand that I don’t want you here?” He pointed a clawed finger in Peter’s face, mouth open in a snarl. “Listen to me closely because I need you to understand this before you get hurt. Leave me alone. Leave me alone.

“If you want to talk to me about work,” Miguel continued, “or if you want to talk to me about Mayday, or M.J., or anything other than this when I’m not trying to be alone, then, please, be my guest. But I am not talking about this.” He pulled his hand to his chest roughly, the fabric of his suit getting caught on the talon he pointed directly at himself. “I will not talk about this. Leave me alone.” Then, more insistently, “leave me alone.”

For a moment, then, there was silence, only filled by the whistling rush of the wind around them and Miguel’s heaving breaths. His nostrils were flared in rage, hand hanging in the air, but his anger faltered when he finally caught sight of the look on the other man’s face; a chill ran over him that was almost worse than the one caused by the roaring wind. Beside him, Peter wore the most impassive expression Miguel had ever seen on him, and the look, admittedly, scared him a bit. His hand fell back to his side, and his brows quirked upward in quiet unease as his eyes darted between Peter and literally anything else.

“Miguel,” Peter finally said, and his tone matched his face, “I’m not just going to leave you to kill yourself on a roof.”

And, all at once, with a startled and impossibly frustrated bark of laughter, the fury returned to Miguel’s chest, chasing away the chill of fear and concern that had previously gripped him. Gently, Miguel slid his hand out of Mayday’s grasp and, less so, stood to his feet.

Immediately, Peter’s eyes widened, and he half-shuffled to get up himself, stumbling onto one knee. “Wait. What are you-”

Without a word, Miguel stepped off the edge and into the open air, a strangled screech following him.

“Miguel!”

A horrified face popped over the edge of the building, where Miguel’s talons dug into the metal plated siding, and he couldn’t help the bitter sort of amusement he found in the reaction. Served him right. The thought was chased away as the wind continued to pull at him, beckoning him downward, but Miguel didn’t give in to its pleas. There was a strange sort of satisfaction to defying what was asked of him both by Peter and by the very world, though such nauseating satisfaction was probably what had kept him around for so long in the first place; whenever the promise to himself to be useful in his wretched existence managed to fail him. Maybe, for now, bitter contentment could be enough.

He snarled up at the other man, pointing at him with his free hand. “I’m not riding the elevator down with you.”

And, with that, he loosed his grip on the building a bit, allowing himself to slide down the side, followed by a half-enraged, half-relieved shout of, “yeah, fuck you, too!” and an even quieter, “don’t repeat that, Mayday.”

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hii, honey

could I ask for something dark and smut Marilyn or Laurel x reader where there is (if you feel comfortable writing this) spanking? maybe Marilyn is jealous for some reason and decides to show the reader that it belongs to her

Yesss!!! I hope you like it!! As I always say, don't be afraid about your requests. All the ideas inside the common sense are okay to me :) Sorry about the language mistakes

Why are you so jealous?

Pairing: Marilyn Thornhill x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, spanking, jealousy

Word count: 2,011

Summary: You were bored at home, so you went to the cinema with Larissa. Marilyn didn’t like it at all.

N/A: Requests are open!!! Don’t forget to love yourselves; It’s the only important thing in this life :)  Sorry about language mistakes

“I'm home,” Marilyn said, entering through the door of your house. You were reading a book on the sofa and you smiled at her, getting up.

“Hi Mari, how was the trip, did you get what you wanted?” You asked, giving her a small kiss. She smiled and took something out of her bag.

“I have traveled seven towns, but finally I have them. These seeds are really hard to get...” She told you.

“Brilliant.”

“How did you spend the afternoon? Have you missed me a lot?” She asked you, hugging you around your waist.

“You know I have. But actually I haven't had much time to think,” you commented.

The year you spent with your co-worker was the best of your life. You didn't even live in Nevermore anymore, you rented a small apartment so you two could be alone. At first living together scared you a bit, but it was much better than you expected, and your bond became much stronger, even though you had your problems, like everyone else.

“Why?” She asked you while she took off her boots. You knew that she was not going to like the answer at all, but you were sincere and incapable of lying.

“Well, since you were out…” You started, feeling how your nerves were increasing little by little.

“(Y/N)?” She asked expectantly, changing her expression of joy to a slightly more serious one.

“You see... It's just that since you weren't going to be there...” You said, delaying the truth as long as you could. “I've gone to the cinema with Larissa.” That's it, you already said it. Marilyn was silent for a moment and nodded slightly.

“To the cinema? What for?” She asked, finally reacting.

“To catch mushrooms. Well, to watch a movie, Why people go to the cinema?” You said ironic. She frowned and approached defiantly.

“Don't laugh at me, (Y/N), you know perfectly well what I mean,” she said, lowering her tone of voice.

“Come on, what do you care about? You weren't here, I was bored, and Larissa called me and asked me to go to watch a movie. That's it, I have nothing else to say,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Do you behave that way? Do you take advantage of the fact that I'm not here to going out with other women?” She asked you, firmly holding your chin.

“Oh, please, not again…” You sighed, ready to listen to another festival of jealousy, to which you were already used to.

“If you don't want me to get angry, don't provoke me, (Y/N). It seems as you did it on purpose,” she hissed, letting you go with contempt.

“I'm not provoking you. I just went to the cinema with Larissa. She is my boss, your boss, do you remember?” You said, rubbing the area that she had grabbed, perhaps with too much force.

“That's what you say. How do I know she didn't touch you when the lights went out? It seems that you  are the one who doesn't remember things, (Y/N). You don't remember that you are mine.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, unable to say or do anything else. The things she imagined were so absurd that you already laughed at them.

“Ah, you find it funny, fantastic…” Marilyn said, surprised.

“Sorry, you are so absurd Mari... But how can you think that I am going to cheat you? You know that I love only you...” You said, softening your tone little by little and surrounding the redhead with your arms. “Come on... Don't be angry,” you whispered sweetly, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“(Y/N), you make it very difficult for me. Was it so hard for you to have told me?” She asked you, pretending a soft and affectionate voice. But you knew it wasn't like that at all.

“Maybe if you didn't go every day looking for your damn seeds all over Vermont, I could have gone to the cinema with you, instead of Larissa,” you said, moving away a bit. It was what you thought for a long time, and you couldn't help but tell her, much to your regret.

“What are you implying?” She asked, narrowing her eyes.

“What you heard. If you're so worried that I won't go with someone else, you should pay more attention to me, don't you think?”

“Am I not paying enough attention to you?” She asked rhetorically, indignant. “There is no one else but you, (Y/N). You're everything to me. I get up, eat, sleep and dream thinking of you. Your reproaches and your outings "to the cinema" with other people are a good way of thanking me.”

“You're making things crazy, as always,” you said, turning around, ready to go to your room. She grabbed your arm roughly, stopping you immediately.

“We're not done yet, (Y/N),” she reproached you, squeezing your arm until she hurt you. You broke free and stood in front of her, pressing your lips tightly.

"Why is it so hard for you to believe me when I tell you that I love you, Marilyn?" You asked, trying to calm down a bit.

“Why is it so hard for you to understand that if you're with me, you must be loyal to me?” Marilyn responded with another question.

You huffed and headed for the couch, plopping down on it.

“I'm loyal to you. I haven't had anything with Larissa, we just went to a movie because I wanted to get out of the house. There is not, there was, nor will there ever be anything with another woman. I'm yours, and you should know it,” you said, lying down resigned.

Marilyn's expression softened and she sat up thoughtfully.

“Say it.”

“What?” You asked, looking at her over your arm.

“Say that you are mine again. That you belong to me and that no one will ever lay a finger on you,” she whispered, caressing your leg. Her tone was a little different, and that relieved you. Crisis over, or almost.

“I am yours, forever. I belong to you and no one will ever put a single hand on me,” you repeated, getting up and passing a hand over her shoulder. She turned to you and you kissed her softly, caressing her face tenderly and slowly. You parted and smiled at each other.

“Well, it's over…” you sighed, leaning on her shoulder. “What do you want for dinner?”

She shook her head, smiling this time, dangerously.

“No honey. This isn't over at all,” she told you, patting her lap.

You widened your eyes but you obeyed her gestures, placing yourself in the position she asked you to.

“How many are going to be this time? I don't think I deserve more than ten…” You said, afraid of what was to come.

“You think so, sweetie?” She asked gently caressing your rear. “I think ten are not enough. They will be 15, and with bare skin.”

You bit your lip. Anyone who entered the house at that moment and contemplated that scene would think anything dark. But it was commonplace between you, and you couldn't deny that you enjoyed it.

Marilyn unbuttoned your pants and lowered them enough to reveal your butt, which she caressed now with no material on her way.

“Mommy doesn't like to punish you, honey. But she doesn't like that you forget who you belong to either. Are you ready, my love?”

You closed your eyes and bowed your head, preparing yourself for what was to come. You nodded nervous, but excited at the same time.

“Count, honey…” She whispered to you, raising her hand.

“One…” You said when you felt the first lash on your butt. You tried to suppress a moan, you couldn't make her see that you enjoyed it, because she would stop doing it. “Two...” That one hurt a little more, and you moved a little.

“Shh, my love. This hurts me more than it hurts you...” She told you affectionately, caressing your hair.

“Fo, four...” You said, clenching your fists.

The lashes sounded throughout the house. You knew the whole area was already red, but you were terribly excited at the same time.

“Four….Fourteen,” you stammered.

“Say you're sorry, (Y/N)…” Marilyn ordered you, preparing the last blow.

“I, I'm sorry,” you said trembling, wanting your punishment to end, to do other things.

“Say it right,” she hissed, gripping your aching buttock tightly.

“I'm sorry, mommy.” After that words, the last blow came after which you couldn't help but gasp pleasantly. “Fifteen…”

“Very well darling, good girl…” Marilyn told you, caressing you gently. “You have behaved so well...”

“Mmm,” you said, leaning back on the sofa suggestively, hissing at the contact of the furniture's fabric with your reddened skin.

She appreciated understanding your intentions and finished pulling down your pants and underwear.

“You're so naughty,” she whispered, climbing on top of you. “I'm sure you're dating Larissa just to get my attention, right? Because you want mommy to take care of you the way you like the most.”

You nodded, agreeing with her.

You spread your legs a bit when you felt the redhead's hand in your center and you sighed, enjoying her caresses.

“It seems that you like your punishment…” She whispered, seeing for herself how needy you were. You blushed and moved your hips to get more contact.

“Mari, please… I need you…” You begged, gripping the sofa so tightly it almost seemed like it was going to break.

“Ask me properly, honey,” she told you, slowing down her caresses. You gasped at the lack of movement and nodded.

“Please, mommy, fuck me.”

She smiled mischievously and slowly inserted her fingers into you. The moans were not long in coming, showing that you had been waiting for that for a long time.

“How sweet… You are so needy, (Y/N)…” Marilyn gasped, enjoying how you writhed in pleasure under her touch.

After a few more movements, you arched your back, finally released from all that pressure that had built up in your body.

“I love you,” you said, catching your breath. It wasn't something you said so soon in those situations, so the redhead was surprised, but in a good way. She slowly bent down and kissed you gently, lovingly.

“Me too, (Y/N). But never forget who you belong to,” she said, darkening her tone. “Come here, honey, mommy wants to feel you too.”

You got up at the same time that she leaned back on the other side of the sofa, undressing completely. You admired her body as if it was the most beautiful treasure in the world and you ran a hand over her naked chest. Her hand reached for your cheek and caressed it gently as she moved a little closer to you, placing you between her legs now.

You didn't say a word. You just grabbed her leg and started kissing it, drawing shy gasps from that little apartment.

“Oh, honey…” She whispered, relaxing her body.

Little by little you went up her leg, until you reached that area, which you caressed slowly at first, before kissing her painfully slowly. Marilyn moaned, momentarily forgetting about her senseless jealousy of her and enjoying the things you were doing. You made her a little angry, taking longer than necessary, but when her movements began to become erratic, you inserted your fingers inside her, as you knew she needed almost desperately.

You both moaned, caressing as much as your position allowed, until Marilyn grabbed you by your hair, pulling gently on it and moaned so loud that your students must have heard it from the other end of town.

“Come here,” she told you, smiling.

You climbed onto her chest and leaned into it. The sofa wasn't very comfortable, but any place would do if you were with her.

“(Y/N)…-she told you, making you to look up. “Don't ever forget that you are mine, and you always will be, is that clear?”

You swallowed and nodded, this time resting with your eyes open.

“I could never forget it.”