#and like I said I know the fears are irrational but.....

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello, I really love your story. Can you make story about (y/n) and Donna finding a little girl near the manor. The girl had no parents because it was killed by a lycans. They took care of her like it's their daughter then ended up adopting her. The three of them lived as a family

Yesss!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes :)))

Three, then four

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, adopted little girl

Word count: 4,871

Summary: You found a little girl, and you didn't know what to do...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours :))) I love you all!!!

“Oh, yes, I needed it...” You sighed in relief as you left the mansion. The air on your skin felt refreshing. Next to you was your girlfriend for a long time, your unexpected and now inseparable girlfriend. Lord of the village, sad and lonely woman, Donna Beneviento.

You were always considered a privileged person in the village because of your parents' business. They were cloth merchants, a business that caught the attention of the Duke himself. Thanks to that privilege (which was not such) you met the woman in black.

The terrifying and almost sacred vision you had of the Lords crumbled the moment leaving her house was nothing but a torture for you. You were a strange girl, she was a strange woman. Two lost souls, as they used to say.

You had been in that relationship for two years now and you didn't regret it at all. To get used to her demons and instability didn't take you long. That was something that unfortunately you couldn't change. But there were certain behaviors that you set out to improve over time. The irrational fear of leaving that old estate was one of them.

“Are you happy now?” The lady in black asked, squeezing your hand tightly as she walked next to you. The resentment for making her do something as terrible as take a breath was quite evident in her voice.

You looked at her amused and shook your head, rolling your eyes. At least, it had been several days since she trembled when she walked through the door.

“Come on, Donna, don't you think it's romantic? You, me, your ridiculous and enormous expanse of land, the biting cold...” You murmured, grunting at the force your girlfriend exerted on your hand. “To amputate my hand…”

“If you're cold we should have stayed home,” Donna whispered. “I don't know why you insist on making me suffer this way.”

“Come on, come on... Stop complaining, Beneviento,” you said amused, resting your head lightly on her shoulder, to which she took a deep breath, finally loosening her grip on your hand.

“I don't know why I listen to you...” She sighed, with an amused tone.

“Because you love me,” you joked, giving her a kiss on the cheek through the veil.

“Yes, unfortunately,” the woman murmured, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, how romantic you are...” You ironized, earning a small nudge. “But, wait, wait a moment,” you said, slowing your steps.

“What, what's wrong?” She asked, scared. Well, more scared.

“Seriously, take that thing off, it gets on my nerves,” you said, blowing the veil off her face with a swipe of your hand. As expected, she shook her head quickly.

“No, what if someone comes?” Donna said, giving you a gentle smack.

“Who is going to come here? This is your territory,” you said, getting closer to her, who began to back away.

“I'm fine with the veil on, (Y/N),” the doll maker said nervously.

You growled and lunged at her, with the clear goal of getting rid of the fabric that hid her beauty.

“Donna, be still,” you hissed, fighting with both hands to reach their destination. “Come on, you're behaving like a little girl.”

“No,” she said briefly, before cowardly fleeing from you, walking along one of the paths that led to the old guard's house.

“You are beautiful, and you know it. Stop fooling around and come here,” you said amused, walking closer to prevent her from running away.

“No, (Y/N)”

“Do you remember when I told you how good I was at tackling my brother?” You joked, cornering the woman in black.

“Who is the little girl now?” She asked, with a scared and amused tone.

“You’re forcing me,” you whispered, before launching yourself at her mercilessly, knocking her to the ground, making her back rest on the snow.

“(Y/N)...” Donna sighed, with a tired tone.

“I've won,” you said triumphantly, removing the veil from her face and leaning down to kiss her lovingly. At least, she didn't refuse.

After a series of laughs and games in the snow, you decided to give up and cover her face again, helping her up.

“Well, I guess the fun is over for today... It's getting dark,” you murmured, looking at the increasingly weak sun.

“Do you call this fun?” Donna asked, brushing the snow off her dress.

“Well, I...” You said, walking back cockily. You couldn't finish the sentence, something caught your attention. “Wait, what is that?”

“What is what?” The woman in black asked, looking curiously over your shoulder.

You walked past her, staring at something dark that stood out in the snow. You approached slowly and bent down to pick up the object.

“Oh, wow...” You sighed with a sad voice, removing the snow from what looked like a battered teddy bear. “Look, Donna, it’s so sad…”

“What is this?” The lady asked, picking up the bear and looking at it curiously.

You shrugged, trying to reunite the torn arm with the rest of the bear. After sighing deeply, your eyes went to the place where you found it, noticing something disturbing. It looked like a small blood stain that preceded a recent footprint in the snow.

“Wait, look,” you said, following the trail into the ruined house. Donna followed you cautiously.

The old door opened effortlessly and you peeked inside. Everything seemed completely destroyed, but your intention was telling your senses that there was something you had to see.

“(Y/N), this is dangerous, it could collapse and...” Donna murmured.

You interrupted her by putting a finger in front of your lips.

“Shhh, I’ve heard something,” you whispered, being completely sure that you had heard some kind of sob.

You walked around the old house for a bit and you found the source of those sounds. You had to blink several times to make sure what you were seeing was true.

It looked like a girl, a little girl, about 5 or 6 years old. She was curled up under an old wooden piece of furniture. Her little dress was torn and on her knee was a horrible mark from what appeared to be a wound.

“Gods...” Donna gasped as she joined you. “Who is this girl?”

“It looks like she's hurt,” you said, getting a little closer, enough to catch the little girl's attention. She opened her eyes in fear and crawled across the floor, running away from you.

“Eh, eh, calm down, calm down,” you said, with your hands in a harmless position. “Hey, we're not going to hurt you.”

The girl cornered herself against the wall and covered her face with her hands, trembling with fear and cold.

“Hey, calm down,” you said again, approaching cautiously and extending your hand towards Donna so she could give you the teddy bear. “This is yours?”

The girl looked up slowly, suspicious, but she nodded soon.

“Okay, um... What, what are you doing here?” You asked carefully, handing her back the bear, which she immediately took, hugging it for comfort. The poor girl shook her head, sobbing.

Donna approached slowly, watching the scene curiously. The girl, seeing her mourning figure, gasped in fright, curling into a ball again.

“Wait, wait... Don’t, don't be afraid,” you said, extending an arm toward the little girl and looking at Donna. “Oh, are you afraid of her?”

The girl nodded, making you have to hold back your laughter.

“No wonder...” You joked, crouching down to be closer to her. “Don't worry, she won't hurt you. She's nice and... And so am I. We want to help you.”

The girl shook her head, squeezing her teddy bear tightly.

“Take off that damn veil, you're scaring her,” you said quietly, standing up and approaching Donna.

“Who are you?” a broken voice said, a childish, fearful voice. “Are you going to hurt me?”

“What? Oh, no, no, of course not…” You said quickly, crouching down again. “We want, we want to help you.”

“The wolves...” The girl murmured, still trembling. “Are the wolves gone?”

“Wolves? What wolves?” Donna asked, with a soft tone.

“The bad wolves killed... My parents...” The girl responded, crying and trembling even more.

“Wolves...” You whispered, knowing exactly what she was referring to. “Is she referring to the Lycans?”

Donna shifted confused.

“It just can't be. There are no Lycans on the grounds,” the woman in black answered, shaking her head.

“That means she's been running away...” You deduced, approaching the girl again. “Hey…. How long have you been here?”

“I don't know... Mom and dad told me to run without looking back and... I crossed a bridge and... The wolves were howling and... I found this house but I lost Mr. Hugs and... No... I don't know...” The little girl stammered, bringing the bear closer to her.

“Did you get here alone? Wow, how brave,” you said with a smile, confused by the situation. “Oh, hey, are you cold?”

The girl nodded.

“Mr. Hugs...” Donna said, with her soft voice, coming a little closer and crouching down next to you. “Is that his name?” She asked, pointing to the teddy bear.

“Yes...” The girl responded, suspicious.

Donna nudged you and nodded toward the bear.

“Oh, yes, so... It seems like he's hurt...” You said knowingly, taking the hint from the woman in black. “You know what? She could fix it for you.”

“Really?” She asked innocently. The lady in black nodded.

“Of course,” you said confidently, extending a hand toward the little girl, who seemed to be thinking about her options.

“Could she fix me too?” She asked, taking your hand and standing up. “I have red on my knee.”

“Sure, of course... Can you walk?” You wanted to know, studying the girl's deplorable state.

“It, it hurts,” the girl protested, hissing in pain.

“Okay, come here,” you said, picking up the little girl and walking towards the mansion.

Once inside the house, taking special care with Angie so she didn’t scare the little girl, Donna set about healing that wound on her knee. The girl didn't speak, she just sobbed, almost without strength.

“Look at me, look at me,” you said, holding her hands before the cotton soaked in alcohol made contact with her skin. The cries didn’t take long to arrive.

“I'm sorry,” Donna apologized, tending that wound very carefully. “Hold on.”

“Talk to me, talk to me,” you said, making the girl focus her attention on you and not on the sting of her wound. “What is your name?”

“He... Helga,” the girl stammered, squeezing the bear in her arms.

“Helga, what a beautiful name,” you said with a smile, caressing her small hands. “My name is (Y/N), and this is Donna.”

The girl looked at you curiously when her wound was finally healed.

“That's better, right?” Donna asked lovingly, finishing bandaging her wound.

“Yes... Thank you ma'am...” The girl said rubbing her eyes. She looked at her bear, holding it out in her hands towards the woman in black. “Can you heal him too?”

“Heal the bear? Well…” The woman in black stammered.

You cleared your throat.

“Donna...” You said through clenched teeth. “Heal Mr. Hugs…”

“Sure, can you let me have it?” the woman said, making Helga give it to her with some distrust.

“Don't worry. He'll be fine,” you said in a knowing tone, winking at her.

There was a tense moment. Neither Helga nor you spoke. The little girl seemed curious to be in that place, and also terribly scared.

“The lady in black is very strange...” The girl commented, swinging her legs on the table, with a calmer expression. You had to hold back your laughter again.

“Donna? Oh, yes, she is very strange,” you said, amused. “But she's nice and kind, I promise you.”

“Can she heal Mr. Hugs?” Helga asked innocently.

“Sure. Donna makes dolls, did you know that? She has a room full of them,” you explained, taking the opportunity to look for any other wounds on the girl. It seemed like she was fine.

“Oohh…. Really?” She asked curiously, with the curiosity typical of such a little girl.

“Yes, thousands and thousands of dolls,” you said, amused.

“There he is,” Donna said, entering the room with the bear already repaired and handing it to the girl, who smiled happily, hugging it.

“Thank you...” Helga sighed, with a grateful smile. Donna nodded, coming to your side and leaning into your ear.

“What do we do, (Y/N)?” She asked in a low voice. You shrugged, starting to get a little overwhelmed by the situation.

“I don't know...” You said, sighing and running a hand through your hair.

“I'm cold... And hungry...” The girl murmured, after you and Donna thought about what to do in that situation.

“Oh, of course, well...” You said, returning to focus on the little girl. “Would you like a hot bath?”

Helga nodded.

“I think I have a dress from when I was little, I'm sure it will fit her well...” Donna told you, to which you nodded, taking the girl in your arms.

“Okay, there's nothing more to talk about,” you said amused, walking with the girl towards the bathroom.

When you finished bathing her and dressing her in clean, warm clothes, you went up to the dining room, where Donna already had a hot soup ready.

The girl devoured her food soon while the two of you looked at her curiously.

“How old are you?” You asked curious.

The girl stopped eating and looked at her hands, making a gesture with her fingers to indicate her age.

“Six?” You asked, amused.

“Hello Hello hello!” Angie's shrill voice put you on alert. Of course, that devilish doll was the last thing you needed at that moment.

“Angie, not now...” You growled, getting up from the table.

“Who is this girl? I had never seen her before,” the doll asked, approaching little Helga, who looked at her with curiosity but, surprisingly, without any fear.

“Angie, get out,” you said, pointing toward the dining room door. Donna stepped forward, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Wait, (Y/N)...” The lady in black whispered.

“My, my name is Helga, who are you?” the girl said, looking at the doll with a smile.

“Oh, I'm the best, the unbeatable one, the funny Angie,” the doll responded comically, extending one of her hands to the little girl. “Come on, Helga, don’t be rude.”

“Angie…” You hissed again.

The girl hesitated, but she ended up shaking the puppet's hand, laughing at Angie's attitude.

“Well, Helga, I hope you feel like playing because I do,” Angie said, walking around the girl with fun.

“What do you want to play?” The girl asked with a curious look.

“Mm, I don't know... What do you like? My favorite game is hide and seek,” Angie said, pretending to think intellectually.

“Hide and seek? Yes, I like hide and seek!” The girl shouted, excited, oblivious to everything that had happened to her.

“Eh, eh, eh...” You said, putting your hand on the little girl's shoulder. “Finish dinner first and then you can play, okay?”

The girl's smile faded a bit, but she obeyed, finishing the soup quickly to play with Angie.

“I can't believe it...” You whispered, watching how Helga and the doll were having fun, as if everything bad that had happened could be forgotten with a child's game.

“It looks like she's having fun,” Donna commented, sitting on the couch next to you. You nodded, finishing a cup of tea.

“I never imagined that Angie had that ability with children,” you said, making a surprised gesture.

“Me neither,” Donna said, amused.

“Come on, stop fooling around and take that off. You must be very hot,” you said, pulling the black cloth from her face, moving it away.

“(Y/N), the, the girl...” She said, trying to get the veil back. You shook your head.

Helga ran around the house with Angie, until the sight of the woman in black exposed caught her attention, approaching slowly.

Donna made one last effort to reach for her veil, but your reflexes prevented her from doing so. Helga played with her hands in front of you, looking stunned at the face of the woman in black.

“Lady…. Are you hurt?” She asked innocently.

“No, Helga, that's how she is,” you explained, taking the little girl in her arms. Donna was embarrassed, but her expression changed when the girl's hands brushed against her scar, exploring it curiously.

“You're beautiful...” The girl sighed.

“See?” You said, amused.

“I...” Donna murmured, moved by the girl's innocence. “Don't call me lady, honey, call me Donna.”

“Donna...” The little girl repeated, rubbing her eyes.

“Are you sleepy?” You asked, brushing the hair out of her face. Helga nodded. “Come on, let's go to sleep.”

The guest room served as a makeshift place for little Helga to rest. After lending her warm pajamas to the fireplace and tucking her in, the two of you stood looking at the little girl.

“Lady Donna... Can you tell me a story?” The girl asked, poking her head adorably through the sheets. You raised your eyebrows and couldn't help but smile.

“Me?” The lady in black asked, confused and nervous.

“Yes, you, Donna,” you said amused, pushing her onto the bed. “Come on, tell her a story.”

The woman nodded nervously and sat on the bed next to her little girl, who was looking at her expectantly.

“What story would you like to hear?” She asked with a soft, calmer voice. Helga shrugged. “How about Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf?”

You opened your eyes in surprise, pulling the lady in black away from the bed when the girl hid scared under the covers.

“Little Red Riding Hood? Wolves, Donna? Wolves?” You said through clenched teeth. The woman opened her mouth, discovering why the little girl had been so scared. Surely a wolf was the last thing the girl wanted to remember.

“Oh, of course, sorry, I...” The lady in black said, sitting down again. “What, what about Snow White?”

“Snow White?” The girl asked, coming out from under the covers. “Are there no wolves?”

“No, honey, there are no wolves,” you said, leaning on an old closet.

Donna's voice was soft, soothing. That sweet voice was one of the things that made you fall in love with her. Curious, you watched how the girl settled into the brunette's body while she told the story.

“...And they were happy and...” Donna finished, stopping when she realized that the girl had fallen asleep leaning on her body. Carefully, she separated from Helga and, covering her so she wouldn't catch cold, Donna approached you.

“She fell asleep,” the doll maker commented in a low voice.

“I see,” you said, excited to see Donna like that.

Already in bed, leaving Angie to watch over little Helga, your expression hardened, crossing your arms. Donna, of course, knew you were rambling about something.

“You're thinking…” The woman in black told you, joining you on the bed.

“No, I’m not,” you said dryly, placing a quick kiss on her lips and turning off the light.

A few seconds later, you turned it back on.

“Well, yes I’m,” you said, sitting down indignantly. “What the hell, Donna? Loose Lycans in the village? What the hell is wrong with Mother Miranda?”

“What?” Donna asked, confused, shaking her head.

“Isn't she supposed to be the protector of the village?” You asked, making a quote gesture with your hands. “Why did she let something so horrible to happen?”

“Surely she has nothing to do with...” Lady Beneviento said, as always, excusing her Goddess.

“Cut the crap. Everything that happens in this village has to do with her.”

“What are we going to do, (Y/N)?” She asked, changing the course of the conversation. You sighed, shaking your head.

“I, I don't know...” You said, huffing. “Poor thing, she has nowhere to go…”

“We would have to tell someone,” Donna commented, playing with the sheets. “Maybe someone is looking for her.”

“You know that’s not true,” you sighed, flopping onto the bed, looking at the ceiling. “Wasn't there an orphanage in the next town?”

“Do you want to take her to an orphanage?” Donna asked, as if something had offended her.

“Yes, no… I don't know... I don't know what we can do,” you said, calming the situation. “Propose something.”

“I don't, I don't know, (Y/N)... Just to think that I could have ended up in a place like that...” Donna said, trembling, remembering her terrible childhood. “I don't want that for Helga.”

“So what do you want?” You asked.

“I don't know... Maybe, maybe we could...” She whispered, turning to look at you.

“We could…?” You asked curiously. It seemed like an idea was crossing her mind, just like yours.

“I... Eh, well, I'm sure the Duke knows what to do,” Donna said, as if she regretted thinking about something else.

“This... Yes, you're right,” you whispered, a bit disappointed. “I will talk to him tomorrow.”

Sleeping was the best option, it had been a pretty busy day and you didn't want tiredness to make you think about absurd ideas.

“What? One week?” You asked, speaking to the Duke on the phone. “What part of: we have a little girl at home, don't you understand? What? Oh, okay, okay…” You finally said, hanging up abruptly. “Damn fat bastard…”

“Mmm, Mrs. Gray Dress,” the girl said, pointing to one of Donna's porcelain dolls.

“Well, that's an appropriate name...” Donna said amused, picking up another doll and showing it to the little girl. “What do you think about this one?”

“Mmm,” the girl murmured, watching that porcelain clown. “Mr. Beanie”

“Oh, okay, Mr. Beanie...”

“Donna,” you said, catching the attention of the woman in black, who looked at you with a smile. Apparently Helga had taken a liking to your girlfriend, which you found touching. “The fat… I mean, the Duke says he will come for her in a week.”

“Oh,” she said, with a somewhat sad sigh. “Okay.”

“Do I notice a certain disappointment?” You asked curiously, with a mocking tone. Donna opened her mouth to answer, but she didn't, she just shook her head.

“No, I... It's the best for Helga,” she whispered, taking advantage of the fact that the girl was distracted with the dolls.

“Yes, of course it is,” you confirmed, finding some difficulty in pronouncing those words.

“Yes, definitely it is,” she repeated, with that same insecure tone.

The week passed quickly, too quickly. Little by little, Helga recovered completely, acting like a completely normal girl, overcoming her fears and her misfortunes. The old estate was a festival of hugs, games and dolls. You couldn't imagine how happy Donna seemed with the girl, and the affection little Helga had for the doll maker, as well as for you.

You almost had the feeling that years had passed, that this girl had been with you all your life. But before you or Donna considered that alternative, the one that was on your minds, time passed, and it was time to separate.

“The door, the door!” Angie and Helga shouted in unison as they played tag around the living room. You and Donna looked at each other sadly, grabbing the small backpack you had packed for the girl.

“Well, there you are,” you said arrogantly when the Duke appeared in front of the house, with the same sly look as always.

“Sorry for the delay, Miss (Y/N), I had to settle some matters...” The merchant said. “Where is the little one?”

Donna appeared instantly, with her veil on and the girl in her arms. Helga seemed confused, holding her two favorite porcelain dolls, and with Mr. Hugs peeking out of the backpack.

“Very well, tesoro...” The woman in black whispered, lowering the girl to the ground, who, upon seeing the eccentric man, hid behind Donna's black skirt, scared.

“Come on, don't be afraid,” you said, taking her hand. “He is going to help you.”

“I don't want to go with him,” she said shyly, without letting the brunette's skirt go. “I want to stay with you.”

Those words sent a dagger straight to your heart.

“Come on, come on, you'll be fine... I promise you,” Donna said, bending down and wiping a tear from Helga’s cheek. “Besides, your two new friends will take care of you.”

“Now you have to be a brave girl, do you hear me?” You said, suppressing the need to cry in front of the girl. She nodded before hugging you tightly, and then your girlfriend.

“Ahem,” the merchant cleared his throat, impatient.

“Damn vermin with no feelings...” You hissed, putting a hand on the girl's back, pushing her gently.

“Go, tesoro,” Donna said, to which the little girl nodded and walked slowly towards the merchant, looking back from time to time.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” The man said, helping the little girl get into the carriage. “Do you like chocolate? You can eat as much as you want during the trip, isn't that great?”

You stood up sobbing, watching as the girl waved goodbye to you with a sad look.

“Goodbye,” she said in a soft, disappointed voice, as the carriage began to move.

You looked at Donna, no longer able to hold back the tears. She looked at you and lowered her head.

“Donna... I...” You said whispering, grabbing her hand, letting out the sadness in your heart. “It may seem crazy to you but…”

“Please, (Y/N)...” She said, with the same broken voice.

You both nodded in unison and ran forward.

“Hey, wait!”

1 year later…

You turned on the bedside light, sighing and yawning. You were tired but the clock told you it was time to get up.

“Donna... Wake up... It's eight o'clock,” you said, moving her body sleepily, making her grunt pleasantly.

“Cinque minuti...” She murmured, lazily.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, lying back down.

“It's okay...” you said with a tired voice. “I can't believe you can sleep so much.”

The creak of the door made you open your eyes again and smile evilly.

“I don't think you're going to be able to...” You whispered, amused, listening to small footsteps on the wood.

“Attack!” Angie's shrill voice destroyed your ears just before two small figures jumped on the bed and pounced on you.

“Oh no, help!” You shouted in amusement, fighting against the tickling that little Helga was doing to you while she laughed in amusement.

“Up, lazy people...” Angie hummed, in the ears of her owner, who grunted, turning around.

“I think Donna needs a double dose of tickling, don't you think?” You asked your adopted daughter, who nodded with a mischievous look, launching herself at your girlfriend without mercy.

“Oh, no... No...”  Lady Beneviento said laughing, fighting against The Tickling Monster of every mornings.

That year was… The best of your lives.

Stopping the Duke and recovering Helga was the best decision you could have made. The poor girl had no family. She would end up in an orphanage, in a horrible place. In seconds you understood that she needed a family and... And you were her family, the only one she had.

Adopting her was not difficult and neither was adapting to her new life. She was a happy girl, she was no longer afraid. She had managed to see the light among so much darkness. You had never considered starting a family. Donna always said that if you had a child, it would have to be hers. Hobbies of the Lords, surely.

Little Helga was more than enough for her. You couldn't live without that childish joy, you couldn't live without it. Helga was already your daughter and no one could say otherwise.

“Do you want more, honey?” You asked while you were eating breakfast. Little Helga Beneviento nodded vigorously.

“Yes, please,” she asked kindly, making you lower the jug to her bowl. Donna stopped you, looking with a stern expression at the girl.

“How do you say, tesoro?” She, asked affectionately.

“Per favore,” Helga responded politely, earning a wide smile from the woman in black. You looked at Donna with a frown.

“What was that?” You asked, shaking your head. The doll maker shrugged, looking away.

“She should learn some languages, right?” She said passively, hiding her face behind her cup of coffee.

“Of course... I have enough with you, Donna, I don't need to not understand my daughter too,” you said amused, while the girl finished her second bowl of milk.

“Can I play with Angie now?” Helga asked with her face covered with milk. She was adorable.

“Sure, but wash your face first, okay?” You said in a soft tone, crouching down when the girl stood up. “Hey, eh, Little Miss...” You said, pointing to your cheek.

Helga smiled and kissed it lovingly.

“That's better,” you sighed, letting the girl run up the stairs.

You had never felt happier. You had never thought you could be so happy. You finally had a family, a real one. The woman you loved, your little daughter. Your life was summed up in just one word: perfection.

[gskycy]

you can make bookmarks private!!! theres a checkbox for it on the page that opens when i hit the bookmark button

i didnt know this!!!!!!! thank you I'll start doing this

[7-oh-ta1]

Been trying to working on my trust issues thru writing and here's the problem: I think everything I say makes sense how does everyone else not think this way

[katyspersonal]

^^^ I got this video recommended after watching a couple on UTDR dramas and it is honestly extremely spot on? I am impressed to hear a really thoughtful analysis from the "other side" of the situation, that addresses problems on both sides; creators being more worried about being shunned from the community than about what they did and damage-controlling what is said about them, but also strangers psychoanalyzing a person they don't know who is already irrational from fear and pain in bad faith.

I am not sure if anyone here finds it handy since I am against the idea of "building up platform" for as long as I remember (I even had instances of purging my following to remain small artist), and I've made sure to cultivate the audience (all ten of my fans xd) with the same mindset who just want to quietly chill with the friendly faces in the corners 🤔 But I never know when one of those "platform and community" kids is looking in my general direction, so why not xD And yes, it is certainly helpful from the side of the observer, to not judge the creators the wrong way. The brain biology bit is hella correct, again, I am impressed by how well it is explained!

[horrorwebs]

i hate my best friend earlier i was like "im scared that this guy likes me bc he said something that i would only say to people who i like, but i recognize thats its a normal ass thing to say anyway and i rationally know he does not like me, but still, my brain decided to play with that concept and made me have a terrible nightmare the other night about it and now im subconsciously scared that he will like me ( with the underlying concept of "i am scared of men")" and shell go ohohioo what if youre projecting and its actually YOU that likes him. ????? bitch did you not hear the part about having a dream where he abused me or ...?sometimes being asexual is a nightmare nobody gets it

[todayisafridaynight]

I feel like it would be fun to see Leo's actor in Mole Song Final play Ryuji... that's the only person that comes to mind 😭😭

BUT YEAH 4 was the first mainline entry with (proper) faceclaims! I would kill to see faceclaims get to play their characters. Because they actually aren't mocapped by them, just voiced and scanned in--the acting is all done by RGGS' mocap actors. If you're mentally ill enough you'll start to notice acting decisions that differ from what the actual actor would've gone for; Arakawa doesn't cry the way Nakai does, for example. NGL the animations get kind of uncanny at times if you're too mentally ill so I would not recommend paying quite that much attention lol

I was trying not to think about it though because even if we By Some Miracle got to "season 7" (8 if they do 0) it's entirely possible Nakai and/or Tsutsumi won't be acting anymore by then 😭😭😭😭😭Tsutsumi wants to start directing by the time he's 60... That's chiefly why I kinda wanted it to be an adaptation of 7 before we knew any of the specifics... But Oh Well, it is what it is

ANYWAYS. Very excited for stream tomorrow and best of luck getting stuff done for today :D

YEAH LIKE UNDOUBTEDLY he gave such big ryuji vibes and had an epic presence..... if i allowed myself to dream just this once he would be a real good contender for ryuji......

ohhh yeah nonono ive definitely noticed DONT WORRY. whenever i draw or write fics, i always try to imagine the actual character first to see if the expression or dialogue fits them and if it's believable. having dove more into tsutsumi and nakai movies and shows, the difference is REALLY apparent to me (in that vein tho, it's easy for me to see them as individual characters as opposed to actors playing characters, so it's a little bit of a win for me somehow lmao)

YEAH NOOO THATS DEF A VERY LIKELY POSSIBILITY SHOULD THE SERIES SOMEHOW GET TO THAT POINT IN THE GAMES. again i doubt we'll actually get that far, but in the rare event that we do i hope nakai and tsutsumi do whatever makes them happy (and id def be into seein a movie directed by tsutsumi) (❁´◡`❁)

I REMEMEBR THATLKVJELK WHICH ONE OF YOU FIENDS SENT ME THAT FANCAST SITE IN THE FIRST PLACE ☠️☠️☠️☠️

[pen-papers]

💬

It’s funny when I look at all these sketches,videos,and speed-paints I’ve done over the years, that I still actually doubt that I did them in someway. Even though that’s exactly why I record and save so much of my progress in wips and sketches! There are many times I actually have to stop and remind myself that I actually have been putting in the work and effort to make this stuff that I like.

because I know my mind well enough, that waaay in the back, there’s this little voice saying “but did you really do that?”

and it will suddenly make me reevaluate everything i’ve done up till now.

it’s agonizing in a really odd way.

[macaronienthusiast]

17-year-old Kaia had an interesting take on characterization bullet points

[mariverses]

i need like a shock collar that activates every time i get close to any horror media

[makemycitybreak]

I'm just scared I'll get depressed.

[chaldeanu]

taste of home ノ aventurine

ꕤ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . requested by @yinyuedijun for fics for gaza ノ i slightly changed the prompt as you said you’re okay with it. i couldn’t come up with any inspiration for an avgin dish, and anything else would require many many more words hehe so i just kept that “homemade” part. i hope you will enjoy the read! ♡

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 0.6k ノ gn reader — established relationship . soft bickering . making dinner ノ mostly domestic fluff but it’s aventurine so obviously a sprinkle of hurt comfort ノ vague mentions of his past

“you never eat at home.”

home sounds distant. aventurine is not used to hearing that word; he’s baffled at how easy it is for you to mention it in any conversation you spark with him.

“why should i? i have enough money to—”

“why shouldn’t you? just once in a while?” an offer, all you can muster with a shrug of your shoulders, knowing well that he would only get more defensive if you were to push him any further with a stern tone. “don’t you want at least to try?”

he doesn’t remember how the food he used to eat with his family tasted like. its memory mingled with the taste of blood, dirt, and dry rations he had to live on for some time. now that he thinks about it — now that you forced him to think about it — maybe that’s exactly why he wants to eat only fancy full-course meals at the finest restaurants. correct, he should get over this irrational fear, but it is so deeply ingrained in his core. an inseparable part.

“for someone so cocky, it’s almost weird to see how often you’re scared of trying new things.” you say it gently, holding his hand in between yours and caressing his knuckles with the soft pads of your thumbs.

“aww, don’t say that,” he chuckles. “you’re usually the one that runs away behind me when something startles you or asks me to do something for you, haha!”

“no?! i’m not. i’m doing fine on my own!” you huff, crossing your arms on your chest.

he grins and shakes his head at you. but it doesn’t look mischievous, not this time. even if you want to continue being stubborn, there’s no point in dragging out this silly argument that, frankly, is completely unrelated to the main topic. to which you return, with your gaze almost pleading.

“we barely used that table in the dining room since moving in here. i can make you something.”

he blinks a few times, tilting his head slightly to come up with a witty answer. but you ignore it, patting him to sit on the chair and yourself going into the kitchen.

to kill the remaining time, he plays with the cuffs of his shirt, picking off nonexistent lint from the silk, before he drops his shoulders down with a sigh. it feels good to just let the day pass, eyes unfocused at the glimmers of the afternoon sun dancing through the windows; he’s glancing at his phone every few minutes, ignoring replying to the messages from work despite them occupying his mind more than he would like to.

not even noticing when he hears your voice calling for him as you come back. the food smells great, and it makes him more nervous as he keeps staring at the dish you put in front of him.

you’re trying not to smile at the sight of him mouthing something under his nose, not sure what, but if you’re not mistaken, something along the lines of being too good for him or making him uncomfortable — or both. for whatever reason, you expected he would take it worse than this.

“you like it?”

“it’s fine.” there’s a pause when his throat ties into a knot, tears threatening to gather in the corner of his eyes.

unsurprising reaction. you sigh and get up from your seat, moving to the other side of the table to put a hand on his shoulder. with each reassuring rub, you take little steps until you’re behind him and your fingers slip into his hair, massaging the scalp in lazy circles.

“let me get my coffee. i will join you in a moment.” you kiss the top of his head and walk away.

and he’s thankful that he can swallow that unexpected surge of emotions without you sitting in front of him.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

beautiful mess | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick knows exactly how to comfort you in a moment of insecurity.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, menstruation, fluff, boyfriend!finnick being a cutie patootie, angst, mild hurt/comfort, insecurity, a little overdramatic but it’s cute idc

notes: about to get my period so this is kind of self-indulgent lmao. the number of times I rewrote this is insane. i hope i didn’t disappoint <3

“You know, I think I could pull off one of those long wizard beards,” Finnick said, admiring himself in the bathroom mirror as he shaved down the slight stubble on his jaw. “Those ones that go down to your chest? I could decorate it with little seashells and twine. It’d look hot, don’t you think?”

His playful words didn’t register in your mind.

Frustrated tears threatened to spill as the hairbrush in your hand tugged harshly at the roots of your hair. Nausea was bubbling in your stomach as you stared at your reflection, feeling as though not a single human being in history had ever looked as ugly as you did right now.

“Sweetheart?”

Here you were standing next to a Greek god, meanwhile, your skin was all hot and blotchy, your hair was a tangled mess, and your stomach was aching something awful. Christ, you hated being on your period.

A hard lump was lodged in your throat; you tried to swallow it, but there was no use. Warm tears had already begun to stream down your cheeks. Unable to bear the sight of yourself any longer, you turned away from the mirror. As you reached for the bathroom door handle, a sharp unexpected cramp pierced at your insides, causing your legs to buckle and collapse to the cold tiled floor.

That was the last straw. You just couldn’t hold it in anymore. A disharmony of cries burst from your lips, reverberating around the small room as your shuddering body folded over itself. Curse the Fates for having you been born a girl.

Finnick, now switched to panic mode, quickly dropped to his knees before you, eyes wide and alert.

“Hey, hey!” he said soothingly as his hand moved to rub your back in support, though he wasn’t even sure what he was supporting.

A thousand-and-one distressing thoughts flew through his mind. Had someone died? Were you injured? Were you dying? Obviously, these ideas were a little irrational considering you were just standing next to him a second ago. But seeing the love of his life in pain and not knowing why made him fear the absolute worst.

“Baby, what happened? What’s wrong?”

All you could do was sob in response. You felt pathetic. Stupid, ugly, and pathetic. “How can you—” Another sob left your lips— “stand to look at me?!”

You could feel his hand stop moving which, illogically, made you even more upset.

“What?” he asked quietly. “What do you mean ‘stand to look at you’? Please, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

Finally, you forced yourself to sit up, revealing the tears that streaked your distraught expression. Finnick’s brows scrunched together, almost like he was in pain watching you in such a state of disarray. He tried to think of anything he might’ve done to make you feel this way because, of course, the first thing Finnick Odair would do was blame himself. But nothing came to mind.

Your heavy heart sank—he looked so worried. A part of your brain knew you were overreacting. Justa little bit. It made you feel even more terrible, knowing he was panicked simply because you didn’t like how you looked. Nevertheless….

“I look so ugly!” you cried. “My hair is all knotted, my face is all red and gross, my stomach is cramping, and—and… I’m just a mess!” You buried your face in your hands. “Why are you even with me?”

Shock was an understatement compared to what Finnick felt when those words left your mouth. Never in a million years would he believe someone like you—someone who looked like you—could ever possibly be insecure about their appearance, and now, of all times.

He gently reached out and removed the hands that shielded your face. You attempted to turn away to conceal yourself in shame, in fear that if he got too close, he would discover your flaws and see you the way you saw yourself. But he caught your chin with a single finger and compelled you to meet his gaze.

Yes, your skin was a little red and your eyes were a little bloodshot, but that didn’t mean you looked ugly. In fact, your rosy cheeks glowed with such radiance that the teardrops falling from your crystalline eyes looked like shimmering diamonds. Your lips, which were slightly quivering, were reddened and plump—an alluring contrast to the hue of your skin.

Not that he would say it given the insensitivity and selfishness of admitting such a thought, but he believed you cried quite beautifully.

“Because I don’t think you’re a mess,” Finnick said softly, ironically tucking multiple disordered strands of hair behind your ear. “You’re human, and you don’t need to look or feel perfect all the time. That’s why you’ve got me—I’ll always think the most of you. And when you’re feeling this way, I’ll always remind you so too.”

You tried to allow his compassionate words to seep into your brain, tried to turn his beliefs into your own. However, the storm of emotions inside your mind was refusing to dissipate. The insecurities just wouldn’t subside and Finnick could see it in your glossy eyes.

“Listen to me,” he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that fell across your skin. “Waking up and seeing your gorgeous face next to mine? That’s what gives me the strength to get up every morning. Those imperfections you’re so adamant about? They only make me love you so much more.

I love every part of you. Every so-called flaw, every tangled strand of hair on that pretty little head of yours.” He grinned as he consolingly ran his fingers through your hair which, in his opinion, was perfectly soft and smooth. “You’re my girl and nothing will ever make me want it any other way.”

Hearing his declaration had your heart aching in your chest. Your hand curled around his arm, needing some physical anchor to the reassuring words he spoke. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice, a sure-fire sign that he was telling the truth.

You realised you never had to worry about Finnick finding you unattractive. Though you were a little worried he was partially blind which, unfortunately, represented your own seemingly unshakeable insecurities.

“I wish I could see myself the way you do,” you whispered, voice hoarse from crying.

“I know,” he sighed. “I know, but just give it time. One day you’ll look back and wonder what the hell you were thinking. I mean, you? Ugly? Sweetheart, we might need to get you some glasses.”

You sniffled, lips stretching into a wobbly smile. “You’re an idiot.”

He lifted your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Only for you,” he quipped in response, wearing a light-hearted smirk on his lips. “Come here.”

He opened his arms, beckoning you to seek solace in his embrace. You scooted closer, sinking into his broad chest as his arms enveloped you. Your legs were folded awkwardly beneath your body and Finnick’s back ached from the lack of support behind him, but neither of you seemed to mind.

What is love without a little suffering?

His hand stroked the length of your hair, curling random strands between his fingers in admiration. Your fingertips danced across his tanned skin, amorously tracing the words ‘I love you’ over and over. You weren’t sure if he even noticed; it didn’t really matter. The sentiment remained true.

You listened to his heart beating centimetres from your ear. Thump. Thump. Thump. And you were grateful it beat for you. You were so, so grateful for Finnick. For his strong arms that soothed you in their embrace. For his lips that released a swarm of butterflies in your stomach with just a quirk of their corners. For his voice that could lift you from the deepest, darkest pit at any given moment.

So, when you whispered, “Thank you,” it was much more than a show of appreciation for his words of reassurance. It was gratitude for his existence. His entire being. For his love which echoed your own.

“Always,” he whispered in return.

Time began to pass but you remained in the same position—holding each other closely, dearly. And then as more minutes passed, rationality began to set in. You were thinking about apologising for your dramatics, but Finnick had other ideas.

“Wait, did you say your stomach’s cramping?” he asked suddenly. You simply nodded. “Are you on your period?”

Your head turned to bury your face against his chest in embarrassment. “Yes,” your voice muffled into his shirt.

Finnick grinned to himself. He didn’t want to play the stereotype card but knowing that detail helped him understand your actions a little better now.

“Well,” he began, gently coaxing you away from his chest so he could look into your eyes. “How about you come sit with me in the kitchen, hm?” He caressed the line of your cheekbone as he spoke. “I’ll cook you some pancakes and then we can both melt into the couch all day. Does that sound good?”

You pretended to think about it for a moment, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

He made some noise between a chuckle and a scoff. “Of course. Anything else would be a culinary tragedy.”

“Oh, Finnick Odair,” you proclaimed theatrically, winding your arms around his neck as you pulled yourself further against him. “How I love you so.”

In response, his face lit up with a stupidly lovesick grin. This man will be the absolute death of me, you silently swore. You couldn’t help but lean in and press a soft endearing kiss to each dimple that hollowed his cheeks; doing so only made his smile stretch impossibly wider.

The touch of his deft fingertips settled on the sides of your cheeks, holding your face in his hands like it was his most prized possession—technically, you were. His smile never disappeared as he leaned forward, kissing you with such ardent affection that you were afraid your heart might give out from the consuming potency of his adoration.

It tasted like salt, your tears having now dried on your lips. More importantly, it tasted like love. Warm, sweet, syrupy love.

You pulled away, murmuring against his lips, “You would look hot with a wizard beard, by the way."

He chuckled lightly, sustaining the five-second break before returning to your lips to whisper the words, “I knew it.”

[razzle-zazzle]

How do you feel about the deleted distilled Emotions voice lines from PN2? Also do you think they should have kept it in and even added more?

I feel like it was a very fun concept, and I like how the lines we've found helps to expand the characters a bit!

However, I can see why they didn't add it, and I think that they were probably right not to—it goes against one of the major themes of Hollis' level, which is lowkey one of the major themes of the game: the Psychonauts don't fix people, they give people the strength and skills they need to fight their own battles. Hollis' Hotstreak is all about how going into someone's mind and messing around is a Bad Idea, and toying with someone's emotions with the bottles lowkey goes against that.

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: in which he realizes you were the one for him

warnings: none i think !

wc: 1100

Hoshina wasn't a player. He wasn't one to say yes to everyone who came his way nor was he one to lightly pursue just about anyone who slightly interested him— not to mention he didn’t fall easily to begin with. He was a busy man in a dangerous line of work so having a relationship simply didn’t make sense most of the time.

However, this is not to say he hasn’t had a few relationships here and there. He loved those he dated, he really did. He did not believe in dating for the fun of it nor did he believe in starting a relationship he knew would end at some point, but subconsciously he tried not to get attached. He kept his distance and locked away his heart to keep from getting hurt. Was it unfair? Well yes, but he was scared. Everyone has something that terrifies them greatly, this just so happened to be Hoshina’s.

Yet, recently he could tell that something was different with you. It had only been a few months since you started dating, but he feared the shift in his feelings. He knew what it was— he knew very well, but as soon as he admitted it, it would be over. There’d be no going back for him. He knew he was being rather irrational, he knew that if he sat down and confronted these emotions he’d realize they weren’t that big of a deal, but he couldn’t. He’s never been able to.

However, while fighting this kaiju, it became plain obvious that he was simply in denial. 

It upset him how important you were to him, but more than that it upset him that he knew he was important to you. You had made it so painfully clear that he meant the absolute world to you and that broke him to pieces every single time.

To him it was easy being alone— he just had to make sure his job was complete before he died. If he could ensure everyone’s safety or at least help Mina out, there was nothing more he wished for. Yet while fighting Kaiju no. 10 today, when he saw his life flash before his eyes, his immediate thought was of you. If he died you’d cry. And that alone was going to get him home alive.

He’d rather die than make you cry. Especially not alone.

As he stood up again, he could see his blood dripping from his wounds and immediately it made him chuckle. You’d cry anyways when you see the state he’s in. 

I’ll have to be around to wipe your tears at least, he said to you in his head.

He was incredibly lucky that you didn’t work on the battlefield, his heart simply would not be able to take it. But he did, and for you he’d have to get home safe. Even if no one else cared that much, not even himself, he knew you would.

All of a sudden, it was easy to admit. He was hopelessly in love with you, in a way he didn't know he was capable of. He wished that he would spend the rest of his life with you and he hoped you would spend the rest of yours with him. Perhaps he was just afraid and a little flustered to admit that he was important to someone, especially someone special to him too. He had seen how painful it was for those left behind, a little too often. 

But there was an easy solution to that, he’d just get back to you safe every time. He just won’t make you worry and he’ll be there for you. This was supposed to be a dilemma, something he thought he'd stress over, but in the moment he felt eerily relaxed, definitely not like he was fighting an identified grade kaiju. The rest of the fight was a blur, he couldn't remember much. His head was clear but the fatigue had taken over at that point, but before he knew it, the kaiju laid in front of him still.

He was faintly conscious as they rushed him into an ambulance and patched him up. Once he was properly treated and awake, they had warned him to stay put and take it easy, but all he wanted to do was see you.

As soon as he left his assigned room, he immediately bumped into you. You had been waiting to be let in to see him. You took one look at the way he was patched up and tears welled into your eyes. He could tell you didn't mean to, you didn't want to worry him.

“Please don't cry,” he said softly, wiping your tears away. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you. “I'm perfectly fine.”

“I'm not crying,” you said with a scowl on your face, but the way your voice cracked was not very convincing. “I'm so glad you're back.”

“Can't live without me?” he teased. He knew you couldn't live without him, but he couldn't either. Yet, now he even hated the thought of you living without him, let alone with someone else, so here he was. And here he always will be.

“Shut up,” you said. “You know I can't.”

He knew, but hearing you say that still made his heart flutter. He reached out with his right hand to grab your left and held it carefully. He leaned in to kiss you, but it was so much sloppier than the careful ones he usually gave you. Forgive him, he was terribly exhausted.

“I can't either,” he said, snuggling his face into your shoulder.

“You can't?” you asked, a little surprised. It broke his heart that he had possibly made you feel such way.

“Not for a second,” he said, still avoiding eye contact. “I'd rather die than wake up without you next to me, actually.”

You wouldn’t reply, so he brought his head back up to look at you.

“Oh, don't cry,” he said and chuckled a little, wiping your tears away as he kissed you again. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

He hadn't let go of your hand and although he was gentle, he held it firmly. He didn't say anything, but he vowed to himself that he'd put a ring on it someday. He wasn't letting go of you ever.

You were the one for him.

[11vr1]

Been Away ⭒ Miles Morales

Synopsis › You were tired of his secrets and lies, so you did the one thing you promised you’d never do and walked away. But Miles Morales wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Inspo › “Been Away” - Brent Faiyaz

Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, Angst, the tiniest bit of fluff, pet names, spanish, a microscopic amount of manipulation, toxicity, going back to your ex, stalking, harassment, mentions being mugged, mentions being stabbed, mentions the police

P.S. › I do my best work when I’m sleep deprived.

P.S.S. › Reading comments and reblogs really make my day, even if you’re telling me my commas suck. Requests are also open.

Y/n pulled down the sleeves of her crocheted sweater as she stepped out of the bodega, white plastic bag of chips and candy in hand. The sun was close to setting behind skyscrapers and plunging New York City into its usual state of terror. It was dangerous to be alone on the streets, but Y/n figured she’d be fine walking a few blocks to her friend’s place. She pushed through sidewalk traffic, passing others who were just as eager to be safe in their homes.

Her phone chimed with a text.

Unknown: Turn left.

She paused, looking up to scan her surroundings. There was nothing strange or out of place. Just stores closing up for the night and people minding their own business. Despite how normal everything seemed to be, Y/n knew better. She spared a glance at the alley to her left, immediately deciding against it and kept walking.

Another chime. She ignored it and the next. Stopping wasn’t worth possibly ending up on the eleven o’clock news. At least that’s what she told herself. The less rational part of her mind had a thought. In some ways more terrifying than being mugged.

Tucked away in her pocket, her phone rang. This time she checked. Unknown. Y/n scoffed, rejecting the call.

Unknown: One more chance.

Unknown: Take a left.

Unknown: I won’t ask again.

Her phone rang once more. With a long, begrudging sigh Y/n swiped to accept. “I thought you weren’t going to ask again,” she said, her eyes darting warily to the darkening street.

“Make a left, Y/n,” a deep distorted voice ordered from the other line. Her heart dropped. Maybe the irrational part of her brain wasn’t as off kilter as she thought. The call hung up like she didn’t need anymore convincing.

The yawning mouth of an alley stared back at her. She took a calming breath, inhaling the morning rain before stepping away from any potential witnesses. Her footsteps echoed in the eerie silence of the alley. Her skin heated in either fear or anticipation, she didn’t know. “I don’t have all night,” she spoke into the open air. “I will leave.” Y/n attempted to hide the tremble in her throat.

Her ringtone was shrill in the alley. She jumped. The bright smiling photo of her friend illuminated her face. She did not hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“Thank god! You’re still alive. Are you close?”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, Ellie,” Y/n began to exit the alley. “The bodega line was long.” She rustled her haul of snacks.

“It’s getting dark. I can send my brother to meet you. Ya know he’s always had a bit of a thing for you and now that you’re single…” Ellie trailed off. Y/n could practically hear her smile.

She rolled her eyes, laughing nervously, “You don’t have to make him come get me. I’ll be—” She was cut off by her own scream ripping from her throat. A streak of darkness and neon flashed in front of her, swiping the phone from her hand. Her grocery bag tumbled to the concrete as she stumbled over her heels. Cold metal met her back. A well defined arm snaked around her waist, held her impossibly tight.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Her friend’s voice rose over the speakers.

The smooth phone screen pressed against her cheek. “Tell her you’re okay then hang up,” the same warped voice demanded in her ear.

Y/n felt her lips move before he ended the call. Some quick lie about a monstrous rat. Blood thrummed through her skull along with her ragged breaths.

“Let me go!” Y/n wrestling out of his grip with no resistance, finally turning around. She halted. Pixelated eyes narrowed at her. What had she been expecting? Was a mask better?

Getting slashed for the money in her wallet and being left for dead by a dumpster was starting to sound more appealing than her current situation.

Mechanic panels whirred and parted open. Rich, penetrating dark eyes took in every inch of the girl in front of him, peeling back layer after layer in that calculating glare Y/n knew all too well. “Hola, mami.”

She hoped to never hear that name fall from anyone’s lips. Much less his. Y/n allowed a selfish moment to let her gaze wander. His braids were fresh, obviously not her work. Fade clean. Jay’s untied. Bronze skin annoyingly flawless. He was the same, except for the faint bags decorating his eyes. His chuckle bounced off the brick walls, catching her. It was sobering.

“You have one minute, Morales. One minute before I run screaming and call the feds on your ass,” she crossed her arms.

“Morales?” Miles raised an eyebrow. “Damn. Is that what we doin’ now?”

“Fifty.”

He circled her like the predator he was, each footstep deafening. “You look good, ma. Where you goin’ so late? It’s not safe.”

“You know where! You’ve been following me, remember? How long have you been doing that for? Just another secret, huh?” Y/n was on the verge of yelling, her initial fear replaced by pure rage. “You’re not even going to deny it.”

Miles dared a step forward. Y/n took two back. “You’re afraid of me.” Her lack of an answer was a shattering confirmation.

“I’m afraid of what you do, Miles,” she motioned to his suit, the spray painted insignia physically painful to see on his chest. The Prowler. She would have never fathomed the possibility if she hadn’t seen him in action herself. “You’re a criminal. You steal. You’ve killed people,” she choked trying to swallow back tears.

He dragged a gloved hand down his face. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right! I don’t get it. You changed and I don’t understand why.” Her waterline welled. Three months of suppressed feelings threatened to rear their ugly heads when he was near. Because of him, of course.

It was ironic how much he made her feel, even now. Ellie, other friends, Y/n’s family never fully warmed up to Miles. He was unfeeling, nonchalant, closed off. They couldn’t see how a girl like her could fall for him and stay. At least that’s the promise she made.

“So did you. You walked away. Left me. What happened to our forever, Y/n?”

“You expected nothing to change? In what world would I not react or feel some typa way?” She tensed. Another wave of anger seared through her veins. How dare he turn this on her? “Oh wait,” her laugh was humorless. “I was never supposed to find out.”

“I have to do this. The world ain’t right and I need to protect the people I care about,” he placed a hand over his armor, over his chest. “I couldn’t do shit about my dad, but you…” He stalked closer. This time she didn’t back away.

Miles grasped her hand, placing it over his heart. She couldn’t face his intensity for too long, not without air. He wore the same musky cologne she gifted him for Christmas.“Mirame,” he tilted her delicate face towards him. “Mi corazón, I can keep you safe. You gotta let me. If something happened to you I don’t know what I would do.” His chiseled features twisted, barely able to utter the words. He finally closed the space between them, resting his forehead against hers.

“One minute,” Y/n whispered. It had been more than one minute.

Without separating, he slowly slipped her phone into her back pocket, letting his fingers linger by the waist of her jeans. “Call them. I’ll stay right here and you can end this. You’ll never have to see me again. Prometo, mi corazón.”

She should have listened when Ellie told her to stay away. Undeniably gorgeous, genius level intellect, sexy accent. There was always a catch, she said. She was right. But there was one drawback not even her best friend predicted.

Y/n pulled away. Suddenly the autumn air was too chilly through her sweater. She unlocked her phone. Typed 9-1-1. She looked up through her lashes at Miles as if he would melt into the shadows and escape. She didn’t expect sheer defeat to paint his face, unhidden behind his usual mask of indifference. Her thumb froze.

Miles Morales had Y/n entranced. He’d woven himself into her being, hollowed out a space in her soul just for him. Those titanium claws were in deep and she didn’t know if she had the strength to pry them out or wanted to.

Y/n pocketed her phone. She resigned to every emotion she harbored for the boy in front of her. She chose every wrong decision. “Go, Miles.”

His grin was smug. “Should I call you?”

“Don’t push it, Morales.” He draped his arms around her shoulders, dragged her into his warmth. “I’ll unblock you. Sound good?”

Miles angled his head. His smile stretched to his eyes, showing those rarely seen dimples. “Sí, mami. Whatever you want.”

[suck-mein-pokeballs]

Due to some medical issues I've been poked and prodded a lot lately and I'm slowly but surely collecting a suspicious amount of needle marks on my left arm and now I'm feeling really self conscious cause most of the people I'm really close with are aware that I have a history of addiction and now I feel like if I don't explain myself my friends are gonna assume I have track marks