#another thing they have in common is they both make me wanna throw things out the window if i think too hard about them

[eggmeralda]

- au version of an already existing fictional character (who was based on someone else)

- charismatic <3 and kind of chaotic

- I got obsessed with them a multiple of 5 years later after they were created. which was in 2012

- gave me a career awakening and drastically altered my music taste

- blue eyes

- they get trapped under something which leads to their foot being separated from their body but they survive afterwards

- general themes of escaping/avoiding death/being immune/etc.

[traveler-at-heart]

hi!! can I sneak a request here? I think this will be too common but nat and r always bickering in front of the team (they're together but no one knows) and then one day everyone was confuse because nat got sick and the other person who's sick is r who flops beside natasha and gave her a kiss while completely unbothered in the avengers common room and everyone's like 👁️👄👁️ "are we seeing the same thing?"

I loved writing this! Thank you for the request :)

You were constantly fighting with Natasha. Most of the team had a hard time figuring out if it was because you liked her too much or not at all.

Either way, they all tried to stay out of your way when it happened. Unfortunately for Sam, you’re both in the kitchen today, and he really needs to get something to eat.

“We’re baking cookies, wanna join us?” you say while Natasha adds milk to the mix.

“That’s nice” he says, approaching with caution. 

“I know, I can’t believe Natasha didn’t know how. Lucky for her, I was willing to show her” 

“Yeah, I’m so lucky” Natasha mutters between gritted teeth and you turn to glare, holding a knife that you were using seconds ago.

“What was that?” 

“I’m so… yucky. From all the eggs that I cracked”

“It was only supposed to be half a dozen” 

“I added a bit more”

“Why the hell would you do that, Natalia?”

“Because I can, that’s why, Y/N”

You groan, putting the knife away and looking at the dough that will no longer be useful. Before Natasha can catch what you’re doing, you grab a handful of flour and throw it her way.

“Seriously?”

“What you gonna do about it, Romanoff?”

Sam sighs, silently retreating back to his room. He can order takeout. And just to be extra sure, he locks the door and puts on his headphones. It’s none of his business if you two destroy the kitchen.

That’s how he misses the next thing that happens. As soon as Natasha cleans some of the flour, she looks at you, trapping you in her arms.

“No, Nat”

But she hugs you, making sure your clothes get dirty too, and when her lips meet yours, the feeling is so nice and warm that you forget you’re gonna have to clean the kitchen and yourselves.

“Fine, we’ll bring something else to my friend’s party” you say against her lips and she kisses you once more before smiling.

“How about a nice bottle of very expensive wine from Tony’s reserve?”

“You’re evil” you laugh, holding her close. “Not a word about it, Sam… where did he go?”

“Who knows” Natasha shrugs her shoulders, and then leans down to kiss you. “Now, get out of those clothes. I want to do things that are dirtier than this kitchen”

Natasha carries you to her room, while you giggle and hold her close.

—

Movie night is always a pleasant time, especially when you and Natasha sit far away from each other and don’t argue as usual. 

You usually hang in the back with Bucky, because you’re the only one who doesn’t mind explaining him all the references that go over his head.

Today, he’s away on a mission, so you take over an entire sofa and stretch comfortably.

“That’s my spot” Natasha says.

“Find another one”

“I like this seat. The AC doesn’t hit me directly and it’s far away from Sam so I don’t have to listen to his stupid impressions”

“Hey!” he says. “I make a really good De Niro”

“No, you don’t” everyone says at the same time.

“What’s in it for me?” you smile, crossing your arms. 

“Not getting your ass kicked to the point where you can’t sit anywhere else”

“Someone likes it rough” you tease her, and her smile makes you break. “Fine, we can share, but you’re giving me a foot massage”

“I am not”

The redhead sighs, but you still place your feet on her lap. For the first ten minutes, everyone’s tense, waiting for the fight to continue. But, to their surprise, Natasha’s hand is going up and down your leg, while you lean against her. 

Pretty soon, their focus is back on the movie. Until…

“Who’s snoring?” Tony says, looking around. He turns back and finds you sound asleep, your head now resting in Natasha’s lap. The redhead is running her hands through your hair.

“Looking for something?” Natasha snaps and Stark looks back to the screen.

You don’t wake up until the credits are rolling.

“Is it over?” you say, rubbing your eyes.

“I don’t know, we couldn’t hear because of all your snoring”

“I don’t snore”

Natasha scoffs and looks around, but everyone stays silent.

“Cowards!”

“I don’t snore. Come on, you didn’t finish that massage” 

But Natasha is already standing up, walking to her room.

“Get away from me. And go to a doctor, you’re gonna choke in your sleep one day” 

You laugh, following her to her room. Everyone else thinks you’re probably gonna bicker for a while longer, but all you’re planning is to cuddle and fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

—

It’s a quiet afternoon, with Bucky and Steve watching a game while Clint is fixing an old radio.

But pretty soon, they can hear the familiar sound of two voices arguing.

“Pick one” you say, chasing Natasha. 

“They’re the same” 

“They are not the same” you insist, holding the paint samples closer to her eyes. “Look at them”

“I am. This is blue. And so is this one”

“Oh” you flip them, eyeing them for a second too long. “I’m sorry, Nat. I didn’t know you were blind. This is shappire and this is egyptian. Pick one”

“Are we repainting the common area or something?”  Clint asks Steve and Bucky, but they just shrug their shoulders. Like wild creatures, it is better to not look at either one of you when you’re arguing.

“Neither. I think green might be better”

“I am not going back to the store to get more samples so you can tell me they are both the same green!”

“Fine, I will. In fact, they won’t be samples. I’ll get the paint and you’ll like it”

She turns, finishing the conversation.

“At least wear a damn jacket, it’s gonna rain” when she ignores you, you groan, getting her coat and yours. “Honestly, Natalia”

—

It’s game night, another one of the traditions you’ve incorporated since welcoming new and younger team members like Peter.

You’re starting with charades and Peter, Tony and Bucky are on your team. 

The category is thrillers and you’re on the edge of your seat, waiting for Peter to start. He smiles real big and you shout.

“The Shining!”

“Yes!”

Silence of the Lambs, Taxi Driver, Jaws, Sixth Sense all come up and you guess them one right after the other.

“We’re leading by ten points” Tony says, looking at the iPad. You high five Peter, smiling as Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Alright, I’m next” Steve says and you have to cover your mouth to keep from giggling.

“Uh… pass” he grabs another paper and then another, and a third one. “Pass”

“I’m gonna kick your ass” Natasha groans, massaging her temples.

“Oh, I know this one” he says, doing the signal for movie.

“We already know it’s a movie, hurry up” Natasha looks ready to throw him across the room. 

Steve hunches over, his arms dangling low. He then jumps around, alternating between one feet and the other.

“Hunchback of Notre Dame. Uh… The flying monkeys of Wizard of Oz? Elephant man?”

“It’s King Kong” Steve says and everyone bursts out laughing.

“Are you kidding me?” Natasha says, while your team toasts. You’ve won, yet again.

“Better luck next time. And I hope you haven’t forgotten our little bet” you say, fixing the collar of Natasha’s shirt.

“What bet?” Clint asks and you both turn around at the same time.

“Nothing” 

You excuse yourself, going to the bathroom. The next game is Jenga, and you think you’ll pass, because there’s no way you can beat Peter. As you go back to the living room, you approach Natasha.

“Don’t be a sore loser, baby” you say, making sure no one can hear you. “I know the bet was that the winner gets to do anything they want in bed… but I do have a little peace offering”

You place your underwear in her pocket, smiling as she blushes. 

“Something to look forward to” you wink, walking back to the table as Clint starts the game.

Yeah, thinking about it, Natasha hadn’t lost at all.

—

The day is a bit dark, and gloomy. The morning was slow and the afternoon has been the same.

“It’s quiet” Clint comments, looking out the window as the rain keeps falling.

“Mhm” Sam agrees, sipping his coffee.

“A bit… too quiet, don’t you think?”

Everyone’s supposed to be at the Compound, and yet, there’s no arguing or sassy comebacks.

“Do you think they finally killed each other?” Clint says and Sam chuckles.

“Maybe. If the flu hasn’t killed Nat yet”

“Oh, she’s sick?” Clint feels bad for not knowing. “Maybe I’ll get her some soup…”

“Hey” someone greets from the door. You’re wrapped in a blanket, wearing one of Natasha’s t-shirts and holding a box of tissues. “Sorry, I won’t stay long. I’m just getting us some tea” 

“Us?” 

But you’re too tired to hear what Sam says. You prepare two steaming cups and drag your feet to the living room, Clint and Sam following close behind.

“Why aren’t you in our room, baby?” you say, sitting next to Natasha. You kiss her forehead and smile. “Hey, your fever’s down”

“I told you not to stay in my room. Now you’re sick too” she coughs, but nuzzles your neck and sighs. 

“Shut up and drink your tea, Tasha”

“This whole time, YOU TWO HAVE BEEN TOGETHER” Sam shouts and you make a face.

“Can you not do that thing with your mouth? The talking thing”

“But we thought…” Clint says, looking between the two of you.

“We thought you hated each other”

“Sometimes, because she can be a pain in the ass” you say, laughing when Natasha pokes your side. “Nah, that’s not true. I love her”

Natasha smiles against your neck, pulling you down to take a nap.

“Love you too” she says against your hair and you yawn.

Clint and Sam leave the room, as if they’ve seen a ghost. 

“Is everything ok?” Steve says, running into them.

“Cap, you’re not gonna believe this” 

[midnightcinderella]

People who would suffer at NRC

Each dorm has at least one of these students and god help them. This is very self-indulgent and each trait applies to me. If you relate, then rip to the both of us.

No proof-reading, we rawdog this shit. Word count: ~1300 Notes: no gendered pronouns for reader. mentions of ADHD, depression, and anxiety. mentions of illness. no romantic relationships

Heartslabyul

People with ADHD. Rip to us fr.

You'd forget at least a handful of rules a day, but it's really not your fault. Riddle better get off your case istg.

The ones who are more devoted to remaining productive make big colorful signs all over the damn place.

In their own rooms would be stuff like a box that says "keys and wallet go here" or a sign by the door with a checklist of what they need before they go, like homework or textbooks.

There are signs in common areas, too. They'll say stuff like curfew times or reminders of jobs that need to be done around the dorm.

There's always backlash if Riddle tries to take them down for being an eyesore because not only do they help ADHD students remember what needs to be done but students without ADHD, too. No sane person is gonna be thinking about feeding flamingos 24/7.

Savanaclaw

People with asthma. Place is dusty as shit. And hot. And humid at times.

I'm surprised the beastman students haven't taken any measure to seal off the inside of the dorm to prevent and from getting in. Guess everyone doesn't mind inhaling dust straight into their lungs.

Not to mention regular exercise is a dorm-wide tradition. Shoutout to my fellow mile walkers <3

If you have asthma and a dander/dust allergy, I'd just drop out tbh.

People who easily overheat/sweat. Double rip to us.

Get ready to go back and forth with your dormmates about smelling bad after sweating. It's a common occurrence. Someone sasses you, you sass back, and you're friends again 3 minutes later.

Everyone will think you're dying when you're dripping sweat after some stretches outside. No, you're not tired, you're just hot.

Octavinelle

People who are bad at math/bad with money. Listen.

The dorm isn't full of people who are as business minded as Azul, but there are students that offer accounting help for a fee. Negotiate that fee for the love of god.

Thankfully, you won't be scammed out of house and home because:

(1) it's generally frowned upon to scam people within Octavinelle; you don't hurt one of your own. It's about loyalty.

(2) someone is likely to take pity on you and will throw you a bone, telling you about a huge sale or where to find good job opportunities.

People who are gullible. Once again, double rip.

And once again, thank the lucky stars that loyalty is such a big thing here so you might be tricked into doing someone's job for them like mopping the Lounge, but nothing that would hurt you too badly.

If a study partner tries to feed you false information for shiggles, that'll get shut down real quick by another student. If your grades go down, then the whole dorm goes with you.

Good thing that doesn't happen often, and Azul offers his study guides for a highly discounted price to his own.

Scarabia

People who don't do well with sudden changes in temperature. Man, listen.

Hellishly hot during the day and even more hellishly cold at night. Dante would be thrilled.

God forbid you have any athletic activities close to sunset because you'll have to shower off that sweat quick before you freeze to death.

If anyone has a problem with the sound of the hairdryer after sundown, they're just gonna have to deal with it or risk catching your inevitable cold.

Speaking of, if sudden changes in temperature make you sick, double rip. I know your pain.

Kalim may not be able to come see you in person, but if he finds out you're sick, he'll send meds and some warm food. If that food was made by Jamil, then you owe him one.

You don't wanna owe him one.

If you need to leave your room after sundown, you're going to do it wrapped up with a blanket over your head. If someone mistakes you for a ghoul, that's their own problem.

Pomefiore

People with depression. Listen. Someone without depression could find it hard to keep such a strict regimen day in and day out; do not expect too much out of us.

If you think that means you're getting out of it, though, you'd be wrong.

Group accountability is a thing here. If you need help sticking to your routine, you're getting it. You can't refuse.

You're all going to be beautiful together, goddammit.

If that chronic fatigue be hittin ya, you might get a pass for a few steps of your routine. But if a particularly caring dormmate decides you have to do the full routine and straight up does it for you, lol.

Depending on how you view that sort of help, it might be really nice. Or maybe a little humiliating.

The dorm kitchen is only going to have healthy ready-made snacks. So if it's a day where you can't cook or go all the way to the cafeteria, that is what you're working with. Either that or you crawl your way over the the Shop for a candy bar.

Ignihyde

People who struggle with technology. Yes there are young people who aren't great with technology. We exist. Mind your business.

No matter how many classes you take teaching you how to use MagExcel, it never sticks for long. Even if you pass the exams, all your knowledge leaves to go buy milk by the time the week is over.

You're gonna need to interrupt people's gaming sessions to ask for help. It may annoy them, but you're doing it anyway because you refuse the reinvent the wheel 12 times.

People who prefer paper over screens. Call me old fashioned but staring at screens all day Hurts My Eyes.

You'd get physical copies of your textbooks if you could, but those free pdfs your classmates pass around are too tempting to pass up. They're free, for god's sake.

You also might be limited to board games on game nights. They're not bad, but there's not a whole lot you can do with them. You're a wiz at Cards Against Reality tho.

Every so often Ignihyde has a dorm-wide game night where everyone sits around in the common room with their headphones in, playing their own games. Together.

Though the board game players are in the next room. Oddly enough, they're the rowdiest of the bunch, and it sounds like they have the most fun by the way they're yelling and cheering.

You have seen some nerd fights start over a game of Ichi.

Diasomnia

People who have anxiety. One, Lilia is a menace. Two, your housewarden is the Malleus Draconia. Meep.

Whether it's Lilia or Malleus you run into, it feels like your heart will explode at any time.

Not to mention it's so dark in and outside of the building for no good reason. What's a fella gotta do to get some fucking sunlight in here? You're sick of worrying about what could be behind every corner.

You once wondered if Malleus needed a UV/heat lamp, but knew better than to ask. That doesn't mean you're not curious, though.

People who dislike loud sounds. I don't think I have to explain this one.

At first you thought that staying near Silver meant that you'd be staying away from Sebek, but that wasn't the case and you were at a loss as to what to do.

Then you tried going in the other direction whenever you saw Malleus, but all that did was send Sebek after you personally, asking very loudly why you did not want to be around Lord Malleus.

At one point, you got sick of his shit and muzzled him via magic. Then Malleus showed up and you were all oh shit. But then all he did was chuckle about how you were getting along so well. You took that to mean he wouldn't ever stop you from muzzling Sebek.

You were right.

[luvyeni]

SEX FASHION AND GUITARS — chapter 6. fitting day 📍!

𐙚 pairings. rockstar!jaemin x stylist!reader

synopsis. l/n y/n fashion major and photographer on the side who says what she wants, na jaemin music major and lead guitar player for underground band DREAM. After yn forgets her to change her account and says something that catches the eye of jaemin she tries to ignore him — expect thanks to chenle she now works for them.

word count. 1438 words

SMUT WARNING !!!

"ouch , that shit hurts." the boy complained for the thirtieth time , you were starting to think he was doing it on purpose. "yah! it's not even that bad , you're just being a pussy." you took down the measurements , closing the book. "done , now get out my studio." he scoffed. "so mean." he muttered. "let's go , i wanna go home and drink."

"can i come with you." you rolled your eyes. "all of you are just the same." you deadpanned, putting your coat on. "who else are you talking about , jaemin?" he questioned , you grabbed all your belongings , pushing him out the door of the place. "doesn't matter , no you can't come." you said. "awe why?!" he whined. "it's just drinks." he said. "you say that now , and then drink will somehow lead to you in my bed." he dramatically gasped , it made you smile. "do you think of me as some common whore?"

"yes , yes i do." you walked to the bus stop. "let me take you home." he said. "you won't quit will you?" he smiled shrugging. "fine you can only drive me home." he pouted , you would never believe this was the same guy that was notorious for being hard ass vocalist , who would hook up with a cactus if he could. "2 drinks?"

"one drink." you caved, what harm could one drink do? "one drink , okay , let's go!" he dragged you to his car. "jesus this car has seen it all." you teased , getting into the car. "hey , you were about to get on the bus , who are you to judge?" you nodded. "touche."

you guys made it safely back to your shared apartment with sieun , throwing your keys into the bowl near the door , taking off your shoes , making your way into the kitchen. "you have a roommate." you hummed , reaching up , grabbing to glasses and a bottle of soju. "she's out for the night , so you won't see her." you sat the glasses down , pouring the liquid in them. "here."

turns out haechan was good at conversation , because one shot , turned into 2 empty bottles of soju , and you both sitting on your couch , his arm wrapped around your should as you conversed about random things , a movie playing in the background. "what happened to one drink only?" you slapped his chest, making him groan. "you hold a nice conversation."

"and im incredible sexy?" he wiggled his eyesbrows. "you're lucky im tipsy , or i would've definitely gotten the ick and kicked you out for saying that." you got up to grab another bottle , he followed close behind you. "it's okay to admit it." he said. "that im sexy." you reached down to grab the bottle , not unaware to his burning stares at the ass. "i think you're sexy."

"you want another drink?" you said , trying to ignore the tingling sensation in your stomach. "nah , im good." you nodded , pouring yourself one. "you want to finish the movie?" you tried to walk back into the living room — only to be stopped by the man. "you know you don't give a fuck about that movie." he backed you against the counter , you sat the drink down as his hand traveled to your waist , caressing it. "you're sly." you tried to maintain composure , but that slowly slipped away as he hand came to the back of neck , pulling your bodies close , you could feel his hard on your stomach , he smirked. "yeah , i know." his lips were almost on yours ,you could feel his ghosting yours , when you stopped him. "what's wrong?"

"im not looking for something serious." he nodded. "good neither am i , just trying to fuck a pretty girl." you rolled your eyes. "you are not a dirty talker." he shrugged. "you say that now , wait until we get into bed." he finally closed the gap , holding the back of your neck as he tongued down in your kitchen , your hands coming up to his , tugging on it.

you manuvered your body , pushing him towards your bedroom , both of your clothes slowly coming off before you made it to your door — you opened your door , letting him in , closing the door , locking it just in case seiun came in and completely ignored the trail of clothes leading to your bedroom. haechan sat on your bed , in his underwear , beckoning you over , with his fingers.

"so eager." you smirked , slowly sinking to your knees , his cock hard and twitching against the confinements. "hurry." his arms keeping him up , as you pulled down his underwear his cock slapping against his stomach , tip red and dripping with pre-cum. "jesus , how long have you been hard." you grabbed the base , he hissed. "fuck." he cursed as he felt your glossed lips kiss the tip of his cock. "shit , such a tease."

you smirked , bringing your lips around his tip , sucking on it. "oh fuck , take it all the way." he let out a loud moan as you took him all the way. "shit." you bobbed your head up and down , your tongue working around the base as you stroked what you couldn't fit. "oh shit , your-you're so fucking good at this." he groaned. "fuck im gonna fucking cum." his hands balled the sheets , his hips bucking up — cock twitching as he came , shooting his seed into the back of your throat.

he sighed as you pulled him off , with a pop— your lips red and swollen. "fuck , you're so good." he grabbed your face , kissing you. "get up here." he climbed up on the bed , his cock still stan tall as you discarded your panties , straddling his waist. "come on sit on my cock." you grabb the base , holding your body above him , sinking down on his cock. "oh fuck!" he loudly groaned. "so-so noisy."

you rocked your hips back and forth , his hips occasionally bucking up , struggling to stay still as your pussy squeezed him so tightly. "shit." he groaned. "your pussy is amazing." he groaned , his head back against your headboard. "so fucking wet." his hands came up to your boobs , pulling your bra down , your tits spilling out , bouncing at your motions. "yeah , keep bouncing on my dick." he teased your nipples. "fuck , hyuck im about to cum."

both of you moving your hips , eagerly chasing your orgasms. "fuck , me too." he groaned. "fuck , i want you cum first." he rubbed your clit. "cum all over my cock, make a mess." your sore legs tensed up, twitching as you came. "oh fuck!" you sighed , he groaned thrusting up. "fuck im gonna cum."

you climbed off of him , grabbed the base of his cock , stroking his cock , until his cum covered your hand , squeezing lightly as his thighs shook from over sensitivity. "sh-shit that's enough." he stuttered , you let his cock fall against his stomach. "shit you're crazy." you smiled , licking the cum off your fingers. "shit you're nasty."

he flipped your body over , pulling you into a deep kiss. "fuck." you pulled away. "if you get hard again you'll have to go jerk off , im tired." he laughed. "trust me ,im gonna go home a jerk off anyway." he got up , putting his under off , you grabb a tissue off your nightstand. "you okay ,cause im gonna go." he said. "wow you are gonna stay , even to cuddle." you said sarcastically. "don't want you to fall in love." he teased back. "please , more like you falling in love with me."

"im gonna shower ,let yourself out." you got out of bed. "if you ever wanna do this again, you have my number." he said. "we both know you'll call me first." you spoke one last time before making your way into the bathroom.

after showering, you went into the kitchen go get some real food. "oh hey." you said to sieun who was sitting at the table , eating. "thought you worked late." you sat down. "i was going to , until i see who was on closing shift and faked that my roommate was in the hospital." she slid over the extra container of food. "thanks."

"chenle is gonna kill you , jisung too." she spoke up. "what are you talking about?" you shoveled food into your mouth. "haechan was still putting on his shirt as i was walking into the apartment , i hope it wasn't on the couch." her face grimaced in disgust. "nope , you're good , and chenle doesn't have to know , plus it was just a a hook up , im not looking to bare his children." you explained. "it better be , i can not bare to see you all pregnant and married to lee haechan." you rolled your eyes. "that's scary."

"girl not just scary , that's horrifying."

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TAGLIST (CLOSED). @nominsgirl @haechansbbg @axo-l0tl @darlingz99 @hollxe1 @lostinneocity @lovebuglissas @stars4yulia @syzavxy @kgyam4 @trashx678 @jarrofkookie @fae-renjun @thisisnotjancita@irinayobitch@cloudmrk @chenlesfeetpic

©️LUVYENI

[espinosaurusrexex]

You get your first flowers from Bucky

a/n: somebody send me some flowers please, banner is not mine

word count: ~500

warnings: crying, every guy in the world being stupid - except Bucky ☺️

･ﾟ✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ｡✭･ﾟ

"For me?"

You looked at the bouquet in Bucky’s hands, a pretty smile painting his features as he stood in your doorway.

"Of course they’re for you, doll. You see any other gorgeous dame around?" He watched the hall jokingly before returning his smile to you and encouraging you to take the flowers with a nod.

"I- I don’t know what to say, Buck." The bouquet was beautiful, colorful pastels mixing in one frame of green and the man holding it was even more gorgeous. But the unfamiliarity of the situation brought a horrifying realization.

"You don’t have to say anything. Just put them in a vase and get your shoes."

His gaze wandered from your bare feet back up to you when he heard a sniffle. You were crying, and panic began to rise in Bucky's chest. Usually women didn’t react that way - well, in the 40s, that was. He didn’t know what to do when they started crying because of flowers. Was that a thing?

"I’m sorry," you heaved when you noticed his expression falter, the thick tears falling from your eyes so fast you couldn’t wipe them away anymore.

"It’s okay, doll. What’s wrong?" It was stupid to weep about such a common gesture, but for you, it meant so much more.

"I love them so mu- much..." you sobbed, the sweet smell of the colorful bouquet filling your nose before it started running as well.

This was not at all how you had planned for this evening to go. Your eyes were puffy and Bucky looked as though he had witnessed a car crash.

"I can throw them out if they're the reason. I-" his hands flailed in the air. "What can I do to make it better?"

"Nothing, they're perfect. You're perfect, it's just..."

"What, doll?" He grabbed your shoulders, smoothing his hands up and down with a gentle pace.

"I've never gotten flowers before, and getting them from you just makes it feel extra special..." The hiccups had died down. Now there was only a slight tremor in your voice when you looked at him through glassy eyes.

Bucky's heart ached. How could an amazing person such as yourself have never gotten flowers before? He shook his head while stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind him. When he pulled you into a tight hug, he kicked his shoes off.

"How about a night in instead, sweetheart?"

You shook your head against his chest, the smell of his cologne filling your body and easing it immediately. "No, we don't have to. I'm sorry... just caught me off guard."

"It's okay. I'm happy as long as I can spend time with you. Doesn't need to be in an expensive restaurant. Besides, I think I just figured out another way I can spend that money."

Your smile warmed his soul and when he laid you both down on the sofa, he silently decided that every other guy you'd ever met was an idiot for not getting you flowers. He would give you flowers for the rest of your life if it meant reliving these moments for eternity: With you in his arms, happy and surrounded by the faint smell of spring.

Wanna be added to the Taglist?

@circe143

[evansboyfriend]

caught in the way you got me [ao3]

relationships: Tommy Kinard/Original Male Character/Original Female Character (M/M/F)

rating: E

words: 2465

Thinking back, he realises he had never actually been attracted to women; not even the gorgeous women who would approach him in bars, who buttered him up and made him laugh when he’d be feeling lonely and horny enough to go home with them, a mutual understanding that they were both only in it for a one night stand. And it wasn’t bad, it was never bad, but he never felt that thrill like he did with men - something he didn’t even realise was missing until well into adulthood.

Six months into living in LA he still feels like a foreigner, and he thinks the locals can tell; one of the most common questions he gets asked is where are you from? and he’s always hated it, always scrambling for an answer. It’s no surprise that’s what Amalia asks, too, shortly after introducing herself and asking Tommy for his name, buying him a drink and inviting him to a game of pool − and Tommy’s supposed to be watching the game on one of the screens in the corner of the bar, but it’s been boring without the friend who bailed on him last minute, and he accepts her invitation without thinking twice about it.

“Where am I from?” Tommy’s eyebrows knit together, a slight tilt to his head. “Uh, planet Earth, and yourself?”

Amalia laughs, throwing her head back. It was a deflection more than a joke, and not a very funny one at that, but she seems to find it hilarious. He can’t lie − it strokes his ego just a little bit.

“I can’t place you from your accent,” she says. “I’m usually pretty good at it, actually, but you’re kind of a mystery.”

Her eyes travel all the way down his body and back up, locking onto his gaze, and Tommy feels a blush coming on. He looks down at the pool table, and it takes him a moment to remember it’s his turn to play. It takes him much longer to figure out she’s letting him win, or maybe she’s playing terribly because she’s more focused on flirting with Tommy and laughing at the lame jokes he keeps making without even trying to be funny, and when she comes around the table and touches his arm for the third time, Tommy tries to shuffle away discreetly, trying to think of a way to let her down gently.

She must sense his discomfort. He’s always been bad at hiding it. But she smiles at him and in a much gentler tone says, “Hey,” and when Tommy turns to meet her eye she adds, “I’m here with my boyfriend, actually,” and points towards the bar.

Tommy spots him right away. David is looking at them, and when he sees them, he lifts his drink in greeting and winks at Amalia − or at Tommy − or both of them − seemingly unbothered that his girlfriend’s been practically throwing herself at another man.

Tommy’s at a loss for words − talk about fucking awkward. She’s definitely been hitting on him, and Tommy’s definitely not interested in getting involved in whatever weird open relationship thing the pair have got going on any more than he’s interested in pursuing any kind of relationship with a woman.

“That’s nice,” Tommy says, because what else is he supposed to say? “I, uh…”

And then she asks, “You wanna meet him? He’s really nice. C’mon,” and she loops her arm around Tommy’s and leads him to the bar before Tommy can even protest.

David greets him with a gorgeous smile, deep blue eyes fixed on Tommy’s, and says, “Hey, handsome,” in a rich, velvety voice.

Tommy’s brain short-circuits for a moment. He watches as Amalia slides up to him and he puts an arm around her shoulders, and they’re both looking at him kind of expectantly and he catches on only with seconds to spare before she asks, “You wanna come home with us?”

And it’s really hard to say no to that, because she might not be doing anything for him, physically at least, but he definitely, definitely is. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt that shows off his arms, and his shoulder-length brown hair is tied back into a half-ponytail, a few days’ old scruff on his jawline. And he’s standing in front of Tommy, looking at him like he wants to devour him whole − and it’s really, really hard to say no to that.

[continue reading on ao3]

[shadowdaddies]

Queer request 💗 Femmes have my heart - make it as smutty/fluffy as you want 💅🏻

Female Reader is a regular at Rita’s and has been wanting to approach Mor for a while. Reader finally gets the courage and Mor had been feeling the same.

Would not oppose to Feyre catching them or something (don’t wanna out our Queen)

YES MOR LFG ❤️ this is pretty much just fluff, I'm happy to write smut with Mor but this is what came out of the keyboard today. I'm just feeling soft and I want to cuddle with her tbh

It Happened One Night

Mor x f!Reader

Warnings: canon typical homophobia, otherwise this is so sweet

It was a Friday night at Rita’s, and you scanned the crowd for the one face you could count on to be here tonight. You were determined to finally approach Morrigan, the stunning blonde who lit up every room she entered. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw her standing at the bar, but as you approached you noticed her there with another female. Freezing in your tracks, you realized, that wasn’t just any female. Mor was there with your High Lady. 

You panicked as you rushed back to your table, planning to give up for the evening when you looked over your shoulder to see Feyre staring at you with a curious look. She whispered something to Mor, who turned around to look at you. They knew. You’d never felt so embarrassed, and planned to sneak out and leave for the night when you saw Mor moving towards you.

She arrived at your table, tossing her wavy blonde hair over her shoulder as she flashed you a smile that made your knees weak. Leaning over the table towards you, Mor gave you a perfect view of her ample cleavage pouring out of her tight red dress. You weren’t sure you were still breathing when she introduced herself, offering to buy you a drink. 

The two of you sat and talked for awhile. You were surprised by how much you had in common, which complicated things in your mind. Your crush had developed into real feelings in just one evening. Surely Mor wouldn’t be into you that way. She was one of the leaders of the Night Court, and the most beautiful fae you’d ever seen. Your heart stumbled in your chest as you decided you should leave before you get hurt.

When Mor returned to the bar to chat with Feyre, you left, throwing the doors open as you rushed into the cold winter air to trek home. You didn’t make it far before you felt a warm presence and the sweetest voice ask, “where are you going?” You turned to see Mor holding herself, trying to stay warm. She held out a mug of mulled wine towards you. “I was bringing this to you and saw that you’d left. I’m sorry if I got the wrong impression from you, I was foolish to think there was something more-“ You cut her off with a kiss, drawing back in shock when you realized what you’d done. Did you misinterpret what Mor was saying? Females have been hanged in Prythian for less. 

Before you could pull away, Mor tugged you close, weaving her hands through your hair as she kissed you deeply, pulling away only when you were both gasping for air. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you in Rita’s two years ago,” she whispered. Your eyes watered as you felt accepted for the first time in your long life. A burden lifted as you realized not only did someone else understand you for who you were, but she cared about you in that way. 

Mor grabbed your hand, stroking her thumb across the back of it as she leaned her forehead against yours. “I would love to continue to get to know you, if you would let me.” You kissed her softly in reply, nodding as you led her back to your apartment where you stayed up talking until you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

[arsynnotarson]

so. you wanna start making ug subs (underground subliminals)? let the ex ug sub maker explain some stuff

disclaimer: this is only how to make! this doc is a great starting point for the other things like manifesting and what not

firstly: get your materials

the main thing you need is something to read affirmations. using a tts software is what most, if not all submakers use. i use the software balabolka, which lets you change the pitch, speed, and volume of the text, but free tts and ttsmp3 are websites you can also use, though they do come with usage and character limits, which is a pain if you plan on doing longer and more detailed subs. you can also read out your own affirmations too instead, which might work better depending on what you believe.

the next thing you need is some audio. youtube to mp3 and YtMp3 (beware of viruses) are two of which i used if you have something off youtube you wanna use. i recommend asmr (for those of you that like it) of any type; rain is a common audio choice, but i see slime asmr, clicking asmr, you name it, used too. music is also a good choice, but ive heard that music with lyrics can mess with your subconscious, but all that's limiting you is your own beliefs. also, a critique ive heard on music is that it can get repetitive and you might not want to listen to it over and over if you plan on reusing a subliminal (but then again so can any audio, so who's to say?)

the final thing you need is something to mix the two together. a software like capcut can work, but so can a software like audacity.

optional: something to make the sub into a video with. wanna incorporate your transition goals / desired results as images into your sub? good choice. you can use capcut for that, as thats what ive used.

secondly: writing affs (affirmations)

so now youve got yourself prepared, now comes the main attraction of subliminals: the affirmations. make sure to visualize what you want for the best affs, as it helps with making sure you got everything down and dont accidentally leave out an aff or two you made this whole subliminal around.

now, you can use the law of assumption or law of attraction, but i focus on law of assumption-type affs, as that's what works best for me. here are some base affirmations:

"i have [blank]"

"i have always had [blank]"

"i know i have [blank]"

short and straight to the point affs like this are what ive found to work best personally. dont be afraid to go all out with these, either: your subconscious knows what you want. its very smart. be as detailed as you want.

make as many affs as you see fit, as its your reality you're affirming.

thirdly: mixing the affs + audio

go into the software i assume you have gotten by now and throw those two little mp3s (your affs and audio) into it.

you're gonna wanna make your affs quiet, or at least quieter than the audio, but not mute. the plan with this is that your conscious hears the audio, but your subconscious hears the affirmations and takes it as truth. your conscious is none the wiser. you should set the affs' audio to be just enough to where you yourself can't hear them.

speeding up the affs is a common thing people do (but it might make the affs easier to hear so make sure to relisten to make sure that doesnt happen), but its not an absolute need.

extra: layering affs

layering is putting affirmation audio over another affirmation audio. it can be the same affs, either more sped up, slowed down, or even reversed, or an entirely new set of affs. this can be used to kill two birds with one stone so to speak depending on how you use it, or can make your subliminals stronger / more effective.

extra: bundling subliminals / bundles

bundles are subliminals that combine two subliminals into one mp3. while this might sound like layering, and while it is similar, its taking two completed affs / subs and putting them together (hence bundle) into one mp3. an example would be subliminal x and subliminal y are both about topic z, so they could be bundled into subliminal xy and be "z bundle" (i really hope that made sense)

extra: booster subliminals

booster subliminals (or, "boosters") are made to enhance, speed up, or overall help your results come quicker. this can be achieved by just simply writing affs like "all of my desired results are here already" and bundling / layering it with other subliminal audios (make sure to make as quiet as the affs!!)

extra: formulas

formulas are ways of writing affirmations. some formulas work wonders, and become staples of some sub makers creative process, and because of this, a lot of submakers are protective of it. you can make your own formulas, too, so test out the waters to see which style of affs help you the most!!

extra: angel numbers

angel numbers are the same number that repeats in succession, typically in threes and fours. an example would be 111, 333, 888, 9999, and so on. angel numbers are seen as signs from the universe that your results are coming true as a whole, but each set has their own meanings. you can also choose to assign a certain angel number to assure you of your results, to make sure youre not running into coincidences.

extra: frequencies

certain frequencies can help you attract certain energies. 432Hz can attract happiness, which very helpful when affirming, as happiness helps results come faster, in my experience.

anyways, this has been arsyn's official tutorial on sub making!! remember, you can manifest anything you want. keep believing. stay safe

[darkbluekies]

Silas asks #4

Previous one next one

Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3

Warnings: mafia, punishment, breaking reader

How tall is Silas?

Here you have the characters approximate heights

How much money does Silas have? 200 mil?

Silas little 'business' has a net worth of 500 million, but he only keeps around 1/5 of it because he has a lot of workers to pay for. It's not about how much money he has, but what he spends it on and how he uses it. He doesn't need much money when he has so many people in control.

We know that Silas is in the Mafia but like what does he really…do?

He thinks off himself as a business man and does a lot of paper work ... which is basically forgering signatures and looking through different contracts between him and his "business partners". He also goes out on missions and does the dirty work, which is confronting people, killing and buying illegal stuff.

Silas is a whore

Yes :)

WHAT DID SILAS DO TO US?!?

WELL HE MIGHT HAVE UH ... GOTTEN INTO YOUR LITTLE HEAD AND MADE YOU A LITTLE SILLY ... HE JUST LOVES YOU SO MUCH <3

Regular Silas < ✨Babygirl✨ Silas with 💖Cat Ears💖I rest my case (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧~🥀

bed now. sleep. yoU'RE NOT THINKING STRAIGHT

Would Silas ever realize that throwing his darling in the basement may be pushing them farther away from him? Or would he rather just hurt them than win them over another way? (Love your writing btw!)

I think he does realize that, but he doesn't want to think about it. It pains him to know that he's the reason why you're hurting. He just want to make you obedient because when you're obedient, you won't get hurt ... he'll try to come up with another way to get you.

"I'm sorry, little thing. Please don't run. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just going to talk to you. You're in pain because of me. I thought that putting you down there would help you get rid of more pain in the future ... but it seems like I've made a mistake. I'll change my ways. Somehow."

Ya know silas remind me of the main antagonist of kdrama called Love in sadness. The difference is silas is a mafia whereas the antagonist is a ceo. And has a trauma about the death of his mother. The common thing between them is that they both hold alot of power, know many men, has eyes everywhere, more importantly is obsessed and abusive to female lead(or female/male lead for silas). Both of them are capable of blackmailing reader to kill their loved ones if they escape. Thats all I wanna say~

I haven't seen that, but it sounds very interesting! Might have to check it out.

i just finished reading all the Silas posts and..... oh my god he is awesome and your style is just incredible, i love reading new stories. so i have a question: how will Silas react to the darling who gave up trying to escape because it was impossible and decided instead to stay and make Silas' life hell? like, darling who will act like a bitchy trophy wife, looking down on him and trying to command his subordinates or even Silas himself?👀 not_so_submissive_darling, you know?

He'll be pissed. Although he'll be happy that you've given up, he'll be more than frustrated with how bratty you've become. He's the leader, you have no right to control his men. But you don't care.

"Baby, if you order one of my men to do something for you again, you will be put into the basement!" he'll warn you. "So stop acting like a bitchy trophy wife and go watch a movie or something. And if you don't stop, I'll take away everything I've given you. No more fancy clothes, no more jewlery, no more soap or shampoo- ... oh? That makes you mad? Good."

[minihotdog]

Fearless Magazine

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

Prompt:

A mysterious stranger leaves an item of the main character’s front door with a note attached saying “For a rainy day”

***

“If you like him just go and tell him,” Lynn says to me curtly

“And what if he doesn’t like me and is just trying to use me?” I say exasperated.

Lynn looks up from her lunch to face me, “He kissed you, what more do you need? A proposal?”

I sigh and rest my head on my hand, “We both know his reputation.”

Eric was well known for a loner but when he did entertain the presence of a woman it was always a hit and quit.

“Yeah, he’s a whore,” Lynn spits out the statement as if she was claiming that water is wet. “However, he did more with you than he’s done with any other girl.”

“What’s that?”

“Talked to you and acknowledged your presence afterwards,” She says before stuffing her face with food. “He’s probably been laying awake at night thinking about his beautiful Y/n,” Lynn says mockingly, she hugs the air and makes kissy noises. I ball up a napkin and throw it at her while she laughs.

“He made his move, your turn.”

“Ugh! Why is this so complicated?” I ask myself while rubbing my forehead with my fingers.

“I still can’t believe big bad Eric is a softie for you!” 

“Whatever! I’m going back to work!”

***

All day Eric and I caught eachother’s eye. At one point he even winked at me.

I don’t wanna be another girl you charm and then throw off to the side.

I sit on my bed against the wall. My thoughts going back to the night he kissed me, the way his hands felt on me, his soft lips on mine.

The dating cultures of Amity and Dauntless were complete opposites. Dauntless moved too fast. You meet someone and by the first date you are together, left to figure things out as you go.

In Amity, you begin by leaving a gift of the person’s doorstep and if theyre interested, they’ll leave on on yours. Each gift comes with a note telling them about yourself and your favorite things, in hopes that you have some in common. From there you’ll meet in person and go for a walk or sit down and get to know each other. 

Maybe I should give him a gift.

Eric’s Pov

I sit on my couch with my useless leg propped up by a pillow flipping through a book I’ve read a thousand times. *Knock* *Knock*

Who the fuck is that?

I grab my crutch off the coffee table and rock myself forward in a huff. I frown to myself thinking about all the times I took having two working legs for granted.

I look through the peephole.

Oh my fucking god not this again.

I open the door and come face to face with the last person I wanted to see: the faction gossip.

“Hello, Samantha. What can I do for you?” I try my best to be nice to an elder but pieces of my dislike for her seep through.

“What’s this someone left on your doorstep?” She pries.

“I don’t know, I didn’t know it was there.” 

She looks at me suspiciously pursing her lips, the deep wrinkles on her face showing contempt.

“You better not be fooling around with anymore girls,” She warns me before handing me the box that she no doubt opened before knocking on my door.

“I never was,” I defend myself. The glare she shoots my way almost makes mine look like child’s play. “Ma’am,” I add quickly hoping she’d put the glare away. 

“Boy, don’t lie to me. I’ve seen the girls coming in and out of your room.” She puts her finger on my chest, poking me to emphasis her words. “There was that one with the funny accent and then a blonde one that was here the other day.”

“First off, the one with the accent was my ex girlfriend of two years, who hasn’t been here in months. And second, I didn’t have a blonde woman in my room recently.”

“Of course you did! She was the weird looking one with the short hair.” She argues.

“FOUR!?” I blurt out coming to the realization.

“Young man don’t you raise your voice at me!”

“Yes, ma’am, I didn’t mean to. Can I please go inside, I need to take my medication.” I lie while motioning to my cast, desperately trying to get away from her.

She waves her hand in a “go away” motion before turning away from my door.

I shut the door almost leaning against it with relief. I crutch my way back to my spot on the couch, sitting with the box on my lap. I examine the unexpected gift, I almost chortle at the polka-dot box stuck to the top as I open it. Inside lies a container with hot chocolate written across in red with a little santa in a sleigh and a note: “For a rainy day 🙂” written in cursive. 

I flip the note looking for a sender but find nothing. I can only assume it’s from Y/n, trying to court me with her Amity-ness. 

My grin stifles as I remember what Elder Samantha said, “You better not be fooling around with anymore girls!”

Is that what she’s been telling the faction? That I’m hopping bed to bed!?

My heart begins to feel heavy at the thought of Y/n hearing the rumors. I can only wonder what she’ll think of me when she does hear. As fierce as she is, deep down she’s still shy and delicate. She hasn’t been entirely conditioned to dauntless and the viciousness of the elders that live to complain about the changes in the faction, even improvements from when they were young.

What if she already knows?

Y/n’s Pov

“I forgot to put my name on it!”

Lynn hits her forehead with her hand. 

“Who else could it have been from?!” She looks at me flabbergasted. “I don’t understand these dating rituals. In Candor you just go up to someone and tell them ‘I like you’. None of these theatrics,” She says disgruntled. 

I frown at her, “I’d hate to get broken up by a Candor. They’d probably sit there and tell you every little thing that’s wrong with you until shrink,” I cross my arms. 

“That’s the good part! It helps you improve as a person.” 

We go silent upon hearing Eric’s crutch echo down the hallway. He comes through the door, usually he’d at least glance in my direction but today he looked at the ground when he passed me.

“Uh oh,” Lynn whispers before taking a sip of her latte. “Maybe he’s allergic to chocolate and thought you were trying to kill him.”

I shoot her a sharp look.

***

That day I noticed Eric was more to himself than usual. He didn’t stay late with me as he had the last two days. I wanted to ask him if he was alright but didn’t want to step out of bounds. 

Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he found another girl.

I fuss to myself. It was a friday night and I was cooped up in my bedroom ignoring Lynn’s texts telling me to come out. 

Maybe I should go out and get my mind off him.

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : scrambled

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear scrambled eggs,

Thank you for that Ada print. It's going into my shrine (you were weird first, alright? Don't go calling me weird now.) and the fact that it's signed? crying screaming throwing up. Also, how dare you call yourself her day one? I was there when she first debuted you can NOT be more day one than me (joke).

I like my eggs in the form of shakshuka. If you haven't tried it before, you really should. It's delicious. It's basically eggs in tomato-based sauce with a ton of other spices and god it's so good I could just die. My favorite season... probably Thanksgiving. I know turkey gets pretty boring at times, but the cranberry sauce that my friends make is so good it's criminal. And, yes, I am unfortunately no different from you, but that's our secret, alright? I think I do an okay job of pretending to be normal at work.

Life updates... I had a shoot with a random model two weeks ago and I'm unable to get the way their hand felt on my bicep out of my head. I felt like a teenager all over again when they did. I'm not a teen anymore, and it's been a hot minute since I have been. Is this the curse of working with attractive people as a model? It was my first time seeing them, and the director didn't even refer to them by name, so my assumption is they don't do that many shoots. Maybe I'll be lucky and never see them again? Big day for losers in love (me). I'm kidding. I'm moving too fast. This'll be over in a couple of days. It's not like they're as hot as Ada— but they're pretty damn close. Got any advice for a loser who's just fallen in love at first sight?

Other than that run-in with the model, I got a couple of days off last week which I was supposed to enjoy, only to get absolutely obliterated by okaokra's newest chapter on glhf <3. Why am I an Ada stan who likes angst. Why am I cursed to love the way okra writes? I am not immune to the Ada brainrot or whatever the youth are saying these days. Every time I think of Ada I feel a little more like those twitter artist reaction memes of them biting wood.

The good thing about being only semi-well-known in the industry though is the fact that I can still sneak around at local events as a fan. It's nice that masks are so accessible nowadays. I'll be stopping by at the Ada-themed cupsleeve event in Raccoon in a couple of days, so I'll probably mail you a little something from that. So, if my letter finds you late, my apologies.

Oh, right, since we're on that topic. Merry Christmas, and happy new year.

See you around? Christmas

The cupsleeve event is relatively easy to sneak into for Leon. He puts on old glasses from college and a jacket that makes him look a lot younger than he really is, and he orders an Ada drink, grinning at the table on the side when he spots a familiar face.

"You're an Ada fan?"

You blink up at him, visibly surprised, and he takes a step back.

"Sorry, I thought you looked familiar—"

"No! I'm the same person. Yeah, I'm a big Ada fan. I'm running the event this time, actually. I model for spare money to host events like this." You scratch your cheek. "Wanna enter the lottery?"

"And what would I get?"

"A limited edition, signed, Ada photocard."

"What is this, Kpop? —take my ten." He hands you a bill nearly immediately, and the two girls at the table with you jump in their skin.

"Wow, you're down horrendous, huh?" You hand the ten to the girls, patting his shoulder. "How should I get the stuff to you? You have to leave a social or something."

"Mm..." He clicks in his twitter handle, and you blink slowly.

"Can I bid for it?"

"That was not the plan, but I mean—"

"You'd have to out-bid them." One of the girls get up to put their hands on your shoulders, and you scratch your cheek.

"How much did you pay for it?"

"The base price is two hundred dollars." You grin.

"Mm... and if I give you three hundred?"

"It's signed, so no."

"Shame." Leon clicks his tongue. "I would've paid good money for that photocard."

Leon turns his head at the sound of the door opening, eyes widening as Ada herself steps through the doors to her cupsleeve event. The people in the coffee shop yell as she does, too many people crowding around her to beg for a signed autograph on their cupsleeve.

"Guys, give her a little space." You call from the table.

The people ignore you, and you scoff.

"Do you need—" Leon's cut off by your actions instead.

You grab the megaphone on the table and nod at the workers, most of them covering their ears as you yell.

"CAN YOU GUYS GIVE HER SOME SPACE, PLEASE?"

The megaphone renders everyone quiet, and Ada laughs.

"I'll sign one by one at the table. Please let me sit first. I just finished a shoot." She waves thank you to everyone as she takes your seat, and you ask her if she needs anything to drink. Leon finds that it's almost as if you planned it, and as Ada meets eyes with him at the table, his heart flips.

She's literally so hot. He's going to pass out.

"Well, since you're here. Do you want a signed cupsleeve too?"

"Yes, please." Leon fumbles as he hands her his cup, looking for a pen, and Ada hums.

"It's good. I brought a sharpie."

"Can you sign my arm— wait, that would violate my contract." Leon purses his lips.

"Do you model?" She asks almost naturally, signature smooth on his plastic cup as she hands it back to him.

"I started just a little ago."

"Any major goals?"

Leon steps to the side to let the other fans get something signed. "I'd like to have a shoot with you one day."

"I look forward to seeing you at a shoot one day, then." She hums. "Who knows? Maybe we'll meet at a runway too. What's your name?"

"Leon. Leon Scott Kennedy."

Leon's heart flips into this throat, and his cheeks turn red.

God, he's going to pass out.

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[your-averagewriter]

“Fuck off America’s sweetheart.”

Summary: After trekking through the rainforest the Suicide Squad stumble upon a camp and after a brief massacre they discover Rick Flag, uninjured and not captured.

Word count: 1.0K

Warnings: Violence, swearing, blood, gore, Suicide Squad violence and warnings

-

-

After a day of walking through a rainforest, moisture attaching itself to my skin I try to shrug off the feeling of dirtiness. We reach a makeshift camp and are instantly told to execute anyone and everyone within.

A brutal but sadly common order in the Suicide Squad. DuBois and Peacemaker have an obvious rivalry not leaving many to the rest of us but I’m not complaining. I’ve never been someone to enjoy killing, only when ordered to or when it’s necessary, that’s not to say I’m bad at it, don’t misunderstand.

I approach the camp, following behind the two in competition, not something I wanna get involved with. Slowly, I pull out a few bullets from my bag, toss one in the air, catch it then throw it, propelling it straight into a man’s head. Sunlight shines through from the other side, illuminating the cascading blood from the wound. I repeat the process with a second bullet, lodging it in someone’s skull before moving on through the camp.

Watching the two ‘vigilantes’ act like children is entertaining for a few minutes but gets old quickly as they fight over the last victim. Quickly, I pull out two bullets from my bag and propel them at the same time towards the last man standing. Falling over, you can see the two holes the bullets paved through his eyes, perfect shot, I think allowing a small smile at the precision and accuracy.

Both of them turn to me, glaring ever so slightly annoyed that I took away their tie breaker but we have a mission to do and competition with each other will only get each other killed.

“Damn it.” I hear both of them say, frustrated, watching as the man falls, flat on the ground, the remains of his eyes splattered nearby.

Staying silent, I follow closely behind the leader and another who has also deemed himself a leader (Peacemaker). His ego seems to have no bounds, from his pretentious name to stupid hat.

Heading towards a tent, DuBois pulls open the entrance to reveal a short woman in some sort of uniform and a patched up Rick Flag. They turn to us in confusion which is mimicked by our faces.

“(y/n)?” He asks and I furrow my brows looking at him, sitting laughing in a tent whilst we were out fighting and trying to protect the island.

I step back, out of the tent slowly as too many emotions flood my system making me not be able to think straight. I just need to get out of here.

I don’t walk far and I don’t know what to do so I walk through the camp following the trails of my murders tracing my bullets. They’re not really that special but I don’t know what to do right now.

Feeling a tear carve a path down my face, my hand flies up immediately to swipe it away and I refuse to cry or to let anyone see me cry. I grab at the bullets, forcing my fingernails into my palms almost drawing blood but the pain stops the tears from falling. Reversed logic but when did emotions ever make sense. Stuffing the bullets back into my bag I walk over to a fallen tree where I perch my head in my hands, not crying, not angry, just overwhelmed. Although, an overwhelmed assassin can be a dangerous thing.

This whole experience only lasts seconds in reality but it feels like it’s going on forever.

Waller convinced me to go on this mission stating that Rick had been captured, that he was being used by the enemy, she didn’t outright say he was being tortured but it was heavily implied.But here he is laughing in a tent with some random people, certainly not looking captured.

I know it’s not his fault that he's unharmed, not captured by the enemy, I’m not mad at him, it’s Waller as usual - manipulating me using my emotions and using the one person I care about to force me on this mission.

Rick emerges from the tent a few moments afterwards, likely done with a short debrief for DuBois and the others. He scans the forest, tracing the treeline, looking for me and eventually he clocks me sitting on the tree.

“(y/n)-” I interrupt.

“Why are you here? I don’t understand.” I say, my hands threaded in my hair.

“Trust me, I’m about to ask you the same thing.”

“Waller called me in, she told me you had been captured and were probably being tortured. That’s why I’m here. Why aren’t you being tortured?” He chuckles quietly. “I know that sounds weird.” I say, resting my head on his shoulder.

“Waller lied to you.” I sigh. What I thought has now been confirmed.

“I can’t believe she would do that… Well, I can.” I frown.

“I’m so sorry.” He says, wrapping his arm around my waist, resting his head on top of mine. “I don’t want you to be here because of me.”

“It’s not your fault. We’ve just gotta make sure we both get out of it now so we can deal with Waller later on.”

“Yeah. Then you can show Waller what you’re made of.” 

“She won’t know what hit her.” I manage a small smile. There’s a comfortable silence that falls over us before I stand up holding onto his hand, cherishing the warmth he provides me with. “We should get back to the others…” I say.

He agrees quietly, following after me. We walk back over to the tent where the others are standing and talking with the people in uniform.

“DuBois?” I say and he turns around upon hearing his name. “Did you know?” I ask.

“Know what?”

“That Flag wasn’t captured, wasn’t tortured.”

“I didn’t know Flag was here.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” Peacemaker asks. “Why is he so important?”

“Fuck off America’s sweetheart.” I say, the anger of Waller lying being emphasised by Peacemaker’s idiocy. I feel Rick squeeze my hand, an attempt to calm me. I don’t have anger issues but there are some specific things that rile me up.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Robert stands in the middle of us putting his hands up, preventing escalation. “He’s just a dick.” DuBois says quietly.

“Hey, I can hear you!” Peacemaker shouts.

“Fuck off!” I yell back.

-

AN: I hope you enjoyed reading!

I'm so boring with my title recently, I've just been putting quotes from the fics, I'm sorry haha.

I thought you'd want to be tagged @mandy-eminem-moxley77 (I have a much better Rick Flag fic that I'm gonna post tomorrow or the day after that's 'spicy' so...)

[nordickies]

Could we have a little more Estonia and Finland? I just love the way you draw them ^v^

Finland and Estonia's relationship is something so special, and any interaction they have makes me full of joy. But maybe it's one of those things only Finns and Estonians understand - these two connect so much more with each other than they do with the rest of the Nordics or Baltics

Some of my random views on their relationship are under the cut

Finland and Estonia have known each other for as long as they can remember. These two cultures have always interacted and traded; after all, they only have 80 km (~50 miles) of sea between them. And I am not opposed to the idea that they're actually related! They have a lifelong bond and have been with each other through some of their worst moments. Sometimes Finland and Estonia feel like only they truly understand one another, and everyone else is an outsider in their world. There is a lot of love, validation, and support between them!

Estonia should be older than Finland, and he has a lot more life experience than him. In their youth, Estonia was the protective one with great skills, who didn't fear other nations around them, while Finland was too young to understand what was happening. I would argue Estonia can be even more intimidating than Finland if he really wanted to be. Even Sweden didn't dare to mess with him (at first). Estonia was a wild one back in the day, never letting go without putting up a fight, but since then, he has become more calculative. Simply put, Estonia is the brain, while Finland is the brawn. You can see it in the way they approach things, too; Estonia is more knowledgeable but careful due to his experiences, making sure to plan things way up ahead and taking a long time to trust others. Meanwhile, Finland is more trusting and stays neutral in many matters. Because of his people-pleasing personality, Fin just doesn't want to be enemies with anyone. Estonia, however, finds it impossible to sustain. These two have been under the same rule twice, but their experiences have been very different

Finland values their relationship highly and spends a lot of time with Estonia, though Estonia sometimes sees Finland as a little too dependent on him. Finland can be tiresome at times and doesn't always understand Estonia's worries, but Estonia knows Finland loves him deeply and would do anything for Estonia, even against orders. There have been times when their leaders haven't approved of their cooperation, yet they have always found sneaky ways to support each other

They're poets, just like the rest of the Baltic Finnic people, and music plays a huge part in their life, especially for Estonia. Estonia has an amazing singing voice and produces music in his free time, but Finland is more skilled with lyrical writing and instruments. Their "alien" status among other Europeans and dying roots have driven them to cooperate more together to preserve their heritage and traditions

They share similar lifestyles and common interests, to the point that they can almost read each other's minds. They both have a great sense of humor and a lot of insider jokes. Estonia and Finland are both silly and curious, constantly getting stupid ideas they just have to try out. Estonia is very clever and a bit of an inventor. These guys have come up with the wildest usages for old vehicles and electric scooters. Speaking of cars, these two are crazy (but skilled) drivers. Both countries are known for their cold-nerved WRC champions, so it's a hobby that they share. They're daredevils who want to go fast on rural forest roads or frozen lakes. To them, it's a ton of fun - for others, it's a nightmare. Estonia and Finland can turn anything into a challenge, like throwing various items, seeing who can stay in the sauna for the longest, or competing about wife-carrying. They have a lot of competitiveness but in a healthy way. Fin and Eesti are happy to compliment and cheer each other on. All they wanna do is have fun! (While Norway and Sweden will argue and diss one another mercilessly over the smallest of wins)

They're both party-loving people who have get-togethers all the time, usually involving alcohol and sauna. When they're intoxicated, they can begin to understand one another, which is freaky. When they hang out together, they speak a weird mixture of each other's languages, switching between Finnish and Estonian and, in some cases mixing some other language in there too. And no one else has any idea what is going on. Finland especially finds Estonia's language hilarious, and they get into some awkward misunderstandings from time to time

THEY'RE INSEPARABLE BEST FRIENDS, END OF DISCUSSION. THE IDEAL AND PURE MASCULINE FRIENDSHIP! Plus, FinEst literally says "finest"! If you ship them, all my love to you <3 But in my opinion, Estonia deserves someone less draining than Finland, hah. And male friendships can be so pure, and I want to see more of them!!

[dailycass-cain]

Birds of Prey #7-8 is a neat little two-issue arc that had a lot of cute Cass stuff sprinkled throughout. So here are my thoughts (at last for #7) on the two issues.

I gotta say one surprising improvement is well, everyone gets more moments sprinkled throughout the two issues.

Then say one per issue. That and we get the members who came back with this issue bonding/training Sin/Megaera. That's where Cass comes in...

I love that the introduction for Cass is side by side with Barda (since their growing bond has been a major fun selling point of the series).

This is the (outside of Batman: Wayne Family Adventures and Batgirls) that Cass does normal things like going laser questing.

It's obvious everyone is having fun here, but also trying to gauge Sin's skills both as a combatant and in her new powerset.

I do like that writer Kelly Thompson brings back Cass being a fighting teacher.

It's something Batgirls gave us (though not the first with Cass teaching Steph), but then the little Nightwing backup again gave us it with Cass training with Dick.

I always love this aspect of Cass helping her comrades get better and her being a teacher. Just makes that moment in Scott Snyder/James Tynion IV JL run all the sweeter. That folks SHOULD come to Cass for help in their fighting prowess.

If there's any nitpick, I kind of want for Thompson to bring up Sin being raised to be the next Shiva. Like, technically it's an aspect somewhat overlooked in the run so far surprisingly (save in Cass joining the cause).

But I get "the why" Thompson hasn't dug into it yet. This is a two-issue arc, and it's gotta introduce our newest members, Vixen and Babs. And it's just that a "nit-pick".

I just hope Thompson is given the chance to eventually dig into that aspect.

Though in a way, she already is as all three ladies were born to be weapons but chose a different path. The fact they're just having fun but also being mentors to Sin is neat.

But yeah the other section for Cass this issue leads us to the moment me and others have been using and gushing over the last month. Mari gives Cass choices on wearing lingerie (if you're very very quiet you can hear Stephanie Brown still crying not appearing here and instead in another book.).

This moment really feels like Thompson course-correcting an aged badly moment from Batgirl Vol. 1 #39 with Babs accidentally making Cass wear a one-piece and she feels bad.

I think the fault isn't on Horrocks more per se the "product of the time" and WHO was slowly coming into power at DC around then.

Plus the actual end message in Batgirl #41 works quite well. With Cass figuring things out thanks to Kon (and aliens).

The moment over in BoP is just a page but artist Javier Pina captures SOOO much in the exchanges between Mari and Cass.

Just between the glances, you can tell Mari fully understands more and is more open to figuring out the common ground link that'll work for Cass.

I mean just look at these reactions. They say so many things and are just perfect moments for Cass (which is why I will be using these like crazy).

And of course, the piece Mari picks for Cass is just absolutely stunning and yeah perfectly works for the character.

I would love a creator's commentary on this how they chose each look for each Bird.

So yeah #7 was a great continuation of the plot with #8 wrapping the arc up, but setting it up for the next big thing for our Birds.

#8 began with bringing back someone I thought we'd never see with Batgirls ending last June, Detective Brooks.

I mean he isn't fully name-dropped but those who read Batgirls are in "the know" and it's nice continuity by Thompson in Brooks continuing his partnership with Oracle.

Even though I didn't notice him really doing much after the intro.

So let's get to the crux of this issue with it pertains to Cass.

Cass somehow flying around throwing batarangs (I'm not even gonna wanna answer where she was storing those) and fighting in high heels (just again doing a better job of it than in Batgirl #45).

I know everyone's eyes were on Barda in the fight, but you know where mine were. So yeah it was an interesting detail of Cass doing that, along with being the only Bird keeping her mask on.

Again this is a nice little touch because it shows Cass maturing and actually keeping a dual identity. Something that was quite a problem for her in Batgirl Vol. 1 at times (and some can say Tynion's Tec Knights run too).

If there's any negative (but I digress again minor nitpick) is how quickly Babs is ensnared by the mysterious force trying to end her (but #7 did showcase how easily Mari was swayed).

Anyhoot this was a fun little two-part arc and I'm really curious where the comic goes from here. Each Bird got a good moment and really the only downside was my minor nitpicks.

Birds of Prey continues to be a REAL fun series and I really do enjoy Thompson's Cass. I'm really curious given what we'll get with the character in the upcoming issues given the premise seems to be in the mind of each Bird.

[dontlookheswatching]

I wanna randomly ramble about my main au regarding ships real quick.

TRIGGER WARNING, PLEASE NOTE THAT I MENTION THINGS LIKE ABUSE, RAPE, ALCOHOL AND DRUG ABUSE!! Please don't read if these things upset you! I want everyone to be safe, so if any of this is triggering, this is to tell you to scroll by!

I'm a multishipper, I've stated this on my blog before, I ship practically everything if I see it a certain way. But lore wise when it comes to my blog, relationships are specific. I might post a relationship chart one day, but basically, I have main ships, and then I have like a billion little side ships I enjoy but they wont make a big appearance on this blog unless they're random doodles unrelated to the lore, or part of a ramble or reblog. Im gonna list examples of each so people know what to expect in future posts where some of these ships are featured. If you want to unfollow me for some of these, I'm not stopping you, I'd highly encourage doing so if any of these ships make you uncomfortable, because I don't want anyone to stay on my blog if it brings discomfort.

Several main ships I have that'll be featured perhaps the most are ones like Jeff x Ben, which if not already obvious is the main relationship that'll be focused on. Another is Tim x Toby, they're both adults in my au, I do not support pedophilia whatsoever and if need be I have aged up characters to avoid this. Lastly, I have Liu x Eyeless Jack. I honestly dont know why I started shipping it but its really cute to me and it stuck and they're very dear to me. These three are perhaps the ships that'll be featured the most, but I'm having a brain fart like always and I'm already forgetting my own ships-😭

These are ships that'll be in the blog as well but they aren't as big and focused on. A example to start off with is Jane x Clockwork. I know, canonly, Jane is married to Mary, and I love that, but this is my own personal au so things are different, although in my heart Jane and Mary are definitely on top, and I might do doodles of them from time to time. Another example is Nina x everyone. No, not literally. She just has crushes that come and go ALL the time, and she flirts with everyone, so often to where no one questions it anymore. She had a Jeff arc and got over him and now she's living her life how SHE wants to. A few more include Nurse Ann x Judge Angels, Hobo Heart x Cody/X-Virus, Lost Silver x Glitchy Red, Jason the Toymaker x The Puppeteer, and Kate x Rogue. I have many more, but for now, I'm gonna explain the ones already listed since a few might seem really random. For Angels and Ann, Im just gonna admit, I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers or people who act like they hate each other but they secretly love each other deep down. For Hobo and Cody, in my au, they're both huge loners, and we're paired in a mission once. It was very awkward but the more they talked the more they realized they had a lot in common. I love them. Theres more lore to the reason I've paired Silver and Red together, but to sum it up, Silver had a massive crush on Ben, but Ben has his eyes set on Jeff and didn't return the feelings, and I didn't want Silver to be sad and alone his whole life, plus, they're dynamic is adorable. Sad pessimistic person x person who has seen whats under the sadness and admires them anyways. For Jason and Puppeteer, i saw a cosplay with them on tiktok and I couldn't help myself, I caved immediately. And lastly for Kate and Rogue I realized their characters have several things in common and I realized they'd probably get along pretty well.

Now, for side ships, I won't give an explanation, this ramble is already longer than planned. Im just gonna throw them out there with no context. EJ x Ben, Ben x Lost Silver, Nina x Kate, Tim x Brian, Tim x Jay, Jay x Alex(Yes some other marble hornet characters may be featured in the blog or in doodles), Jessica x Amy, Toby x EJ, Liu x Ben, and many MANY more, too many to state here.

Now that its out there, I wanna real quick talk about something I've reblogged a few days ago. Just because they're bad people who have done bad things, it doesn't mean they dont deserve love or happiness. Plus, the majority of these creeps were people who were wronged time and time again until they were pushed over the edge, it probably definitely wasn't something they had planned out since they were like 3. Now, despite this, some of them definitely aren't the best lovers to have, like Jeff, because again, these are murders and deranged killers. This is a super dark confession but theres A LOT of lore between Ben and Jeff in my au where things were AWFUL for them because Jeff couldn't get a grip on himself for the longest time. He's not like that anymore, and things are MUCH better for the both of them, but they definitely had an era in their relationship where things were beyond toxic. Beyond toxic as in Jeff was incredibly abusive, physically and mentally, and had a MAJOR alcohol addiction, and even proceeded to get Ben addicted to drugs at some point, sometimes going as far as raping him when he did not give consent. I won't give away too many details, but I will say, again, this is in the past and they've both healed over their traumas and managed to get through it together, and are in a much better state(A lot of breaking up and getting back together happened throughout this 'toxic era' though, and even after healing, theres still minor problems that I will not elaborate, they will be found out throughout the blog and maybe hints in some doodles.) But this is a good example of what a realistic relationship in this fandom with Jeff might look like. But just because people are deranged and definitely not mentally stable, it doesn't mean they can't try to change, and it definitely doesn't mean they dont deserve love unless they're as bad as Jeff was but with no intentions to change.

Im always happy to further explain any of this, but I will not tolerate harassment for the things I like. But anyways yeah thats my whole thing on ships im gonna go cry over my broken apple pencil now

-Max❤

[milimeters-morales]

okay under the readmore is part 1 of a oneshot i wrote about an autistic miles morales for fun, but overlapped pretty conveniently with disability pride month at the time. Really self-indulgent, and i got some nice reviews on it and wanted to test sharing my writing on here for autism acceptance month ^.^

Content Warning: Miles does self harm a good amount in both parts without realizing, and thinks some pretty ableist thoughts (at least I think they would be considered that) about himself every now and then.

Word Count: 5k+

Pairings: Minor Milesganke, everything else is platonic!

Miles lets his feet dangle off the side of the building, his heel hitting the brick wall to a rhythm in his head. One two, swing out, one two, swing out, one two, shake-swing out, and start all over. He layed back on the roof, soaking up the last of the warmth from the sun and heated concrete. It was a common thing he did, this rhythm and movement, it helped him calm down or keep him from getting too bored. Too bored was bad, too bored was almost physically painful, but it’s not like he’d tell anybody that. Well, anybody besides Ganke. The other boy understood that perfectly well, it’s one of the many reasons they’re best friends.

He wasn’t sure why he actually did this though. But he didn’t like to think too hard about it, and he’s always got a lot of other stuff to do anyway!

Speaking of, Miles sits up, still letting his feet hit the wall and bounce off, when there’s a pained shout from below. Seeing a man in a dirty chef’s apron bending over with a hand on his back and a pained expression, Miles jumps down from the roof and lands quietly on the street in front of him.

“Do you want some help?” He asks him. The man nods his head to the paint buckets on the ground next to him, and Miles easily picks them up, barely registering the weight. The man walks stiffly and a bit hunched inside his shop, telling Miles to set the paints down on an empty table.

The inside was a mess. Napkins littered the floors and tables, sauces on the seats and counter, and a whole uneaten meal sat alone on the far end of the counter. Miles glances again at the man. He’s sweaty, exhausted looking, all alone in here going by how Miles can hear only his heartbeat, and he just hurt his back. There’s no way Miles would leave this man to deal with this mess himself.

“I’m gonna clean up these napkins so we don’t slip,” Miles tells him, already picking up the pieces. He wouldn’t slip of course, but the man definitely would if he wasn’t careful. “So, Mr…”

“Call me Bob,” the man says after putting the paints away somewhere in the back of the kitchen.

“Mr. Bob, how’d this even happen?”

Mr. Bob sighs and runs a hand through his short hair. “My kids invited their friends over, made a huge mess, left before I saw it, you know how it is.”

“Yeah,” Miles agrees, not knowing how it is at all. He throws all the napkins in the trash and was about to ask where a towel was so he could clean up some of the sauce mess, but Mr. Bob places his hands on his back again.

“Hey Mr. Spider-Man, how about you run along? My back is killing me, and I don’t wanna make you clean up alone,” he says, eyebags somehow becoming more prominent by the second. Miles winced under the mask and hoped it didn’t translate through. 

“That’s nice of you, but are you sure? I really don’t mind,” Miles offers, making a sweeping gesture to the rest of the mess still in the store.

“Nah nah nah, it’s fine. It’s my kids who should be cleaning it up anyway. I’ll make them do it when they get home,” Mr. Bob explains. 

Ah, okay. That’s better than the man just working in pain. 

“Alright. Bye sir!” Miles leaves Mr. Bob inside the shop, and swings away to another rooftop. He wishes he knew more about treating bad backs though, he might have been able to help more! Maybe he could ask his mom? But wait, would that be an overly familiar thing to do for a stranger? Surely not, helping someone in pain is what he does nearly everyday anyway…but some people get real upset if he has to help them, and he just doesn’t know why. Ugh, so complicated, and for what?

Doing a few extremely low swings that end up sending him high into the air, he lets the wind press against him with each rise and fall. It’s like being smushed, or hugged just tight enough to make you so relaxed that you feel weightless. He gets dizzy sometimes, but in a good way, he promises. He wishes Ganke could feel this. He wishes a lot of people could feel this, actually. They’d be much happier, he’s sure of it!

___

It’s not like he’s… embarrassed, he guesses is the right word, to have to keep shaking his hands at his sides. It’s just that he gets weird looks sometimes when he does it. It’s not often at all, it’s actually pretty rare, but when it does happen, it makes a weird feeling curl in his stomach and around his throat, making it hard to speak, which is embarrassing. It makes him stutter, pronounce words wrong, makes him unable to focus on whatever’s happening, it even made him tear up one time. It’s different, when he just doesn’t speak for a while, because at those times there’s nobody pressuring him to talk or for an answer on why he’s “being weird”.

“Well?” the officer asks. She pointed out his shaking hands, and asked him why he was doing that. And Miles was going to answer her, he was! It’s just… the way she said it. It was like when he got caught drawing on his worksheets and the teacher made him throw the entire paper away and start over. Or his parents caught him sneaking small animals under his clothes into their apartment. Or when the kids at school would try and see what he was drawing by looming over his shoulder. 

His chest felt kind of tight. Why did he even let her approach him? He tries to avoid as much interaction with the cops as much as he can besides calling them to places

“I… uh…” was all he could manage to utter. It felt like everyone was staring at him, even when he knew that it wasn’t true.

“Spidey’s still around?” Oh god, of course his dad is here. And approaching rapidly. 

“Yeah, was trying to ask about the hand shaky thing, but he just froze up,” the officer explains, turning away briefly- Miles can feel the tightness just a little- shrugging with a raised eyebrow. She tucks her hands in her pockets and turns to look back at Miles. Great. The feeling was back.

“Oh, this?” His dad asks, copying the moment, making it much harder for Miles to not shake his hands. Thanks a lot! “My son does that, lots of kids do that. You don’t do that?” 

Miles wants to run, so he does. Not like he needed to be there anymore anyway. He’ll go somewhere that calms him down so much to the point where he doesn’t even need to shake his hands.

___

Pavitr tightens his hold on him, arms a comfortable pressure on his waist. He nuzzles into the crook of Miles’s neck, humming when Miles lets out a happy sigh. 

They do this, sometimes, when the stress is becoming too much. Just hold each other. It works out great, because Pavitr loves giving hugs, and Miles likes getting hugs, and they have no problem being this close to each other. 

Miles traces a figure eight onto Pavitr’s back, fingers feather-light on him. He doesn’t like pressure the way Miles does, says it makes him feel trapped and anxious, but Miles couldn’t disagree more if he tried. Besides the obvious bad-pressure, like a building and debris falling on you, there’s good-pressure, and that pressure is what Miles craves almost daily. It makes him feel much closer to whatever’s going on around him without making him hypersensitive to it- he can focus better, basically. The weight on his body is like a firm reassurance that he’ll be fine, that he’ll be safe, and that he’s… real. Not some mistake and about to float away into non-existence, or whatever. 

He’s heard of weighted blankets, and has been wanting one for a few years now, but he’s always chickened out when it came to asking his parents. And it’s not like he can ask any of the other spiders, then he’d have to lie to his parents how he got it, and he’s trying to keep the “lying to your loved ones” part of being Spider-Man to a minimum. Plus, he just doesn’t think it’s that serious. It’s not like he’ll die without it.

Miles stops drawing the figure in Pavitr’s back and simply rests his hand on the back of his neck. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Pavitr mumbles into his neck.

Miles wishes they weren’t wearing their suits. He’d much rather feel the vibration directly on his skin.

“Nothing,” Miles answers automatically. The two are silent for a bit before Miles continues, “Oh, there was this cop. She kept asking me about this thing I do with my hands-”

“The stimming?”

Miles ignores the interruption and continues, “-where I shake my hands when there’s too much energy somewhere and I get all antsy.”

“Should’ve brought Hobie. He would’ve dealt with her,” Pavitr says, shoulders shaking lightly with silent laughter.

Miles rolls his eyes and raises his chin to rest it on Pavitr’s head. His hair was so soft, it was another thing Miles liked about these cuddle sessions, he guesses he’d call them. Pavitr was a good mix of soft and firm, like a foam cube in a gym or children’s play area.

“Wasn’t really her fault, I just got nervous. Thought she would call me weird or something,” Miles mumbles.

“Don’t they already do that? In the uh- the uhh… The news company with the musical instrument.”

“The Tuba?”

“Yes! That is the one, haha,” Pavitr giggles, “remember when they called you a clone of Peter?”

God, does Miles remember. Not only was it completely out of nowhere, it just didn’t make sense for so many reasons. One, how could a clone be a different race? Two, why would a clone be way younger and have no idea what he’s doing? Wouldn’t you want your clone to be just as smart as you and the same age, so when you died, it’s like nobody would notice? They even sounded different! People called him down just to try and rip his suit to see his face for days, causing fights to break out between civilians when someone tried to defend him. He couldn’t just fight back like usual, so all he could do was lightly slap their hands away or shove them off and swing away, and then just deal with his lowering reputation that came with “self-defense.” He was glad that there were a good few people, his parents included, ready to defend Spidey if they saw that happen in front of him, but it didn’t really matter. He really hated, still hates, the Tuba for that.

He can’t see the humor in it, but a lot of other people found it funny, so maybe it was just a him thing like it sometimes is… yeah, he's probably just missing something. Miles closes his eyes and says, “Yeah,” and relaxes again when Pavitr’s sensed his hold had gotten too loose and tightened it around Miles again. 

He’d have to leave eventually, but he’ll enjoy this time while it lasts.

___

“Miles, stop that, you’re gonna get a cramp in your legs,” his mom scolds him lightly as he passes by her.

Miles looks down, and hurries to flatten his feet from walking on his tip-toes. That was always embarrassing to have pointed out, but at least he wasn’t in public doing that. 

___

It was all too much. He thought coming to Gwen’s dimension would calm him down, it was much prettier than his and a huge inspiration when it came to art, so he thought he could come here after a particularly bad fight to just enjoy the sights and maybe draw them. But now, he can’t stand the sight of most things. He can’t even stand the feeling of anything. He was huddled on a roof, a dirty, disgusting roof, there’s probably dirt all over him now and his stupid suit- it’s too on him, he can feel it and the sweat scratching at him and trying to seep into his pores. The creases causing awkward pockets where the suit isn’t actually touching him, but he can still feel it, the thought of all the germs and dirt and god , the trash, the wet trash --

how would that feel?

--his body jerks violently and he falls to his knees.

He wants to yell. But even that would feel wrong. He’d feel his voice in his teeth for god’s sake.

He takes off his gloves, but he isn’t even able to enjoy the cool breeze hitting his now exposed hands because his nails, his fucking nails , they hit the concrete and scrape lightly. The feeling sends shivers down his entire body and makes him rip his hands away as if he had been burned, and bite down hard on his fingers. He can’t fucking stand it. He- it’s too much. It’s all too much. 

nails on chalkboard 

silverware scraping

that man coughing down the street

the smell of approaching rain

metal on your teeth

blood under your nails

flesh squelching in the rubble

sickening crunch 

his breath on your face

digging in your skin

too heavy too close he’ll kill you he’ll kill you

His thoughts spiral, he can’t control it. One bad feeling, and he can’t stop thinking about the other bad feelings just like it, and it keeps going until his brain reaches the end of its list. 

He hates this. He hates that his brain even does this, that it even thinks it’s the right course of action. Nobody else’s brain does this, he bets. Why is his so dumb that it can’t even realize it’s only making things worse? 

Miles keeps biting on his fingers and starts biting on the rest of his hands when the feelings aren’t going away. He tries to him to his favorite song to calm down, but it doesn’t work- nothing is working-

Gwen is here, he vaguely registers in his mind when a black and white blur lands in front of him. She’s here, and she’s grabbing his wrists and pulling his hands out of his mouth, and she’s trying to hold him. He scrambles back, but she catches him and lifts him bridal style. Miles tries to kick out and shoves his hand in her face to make her drop him, but she holds on as tightly as possible. The pressure from her fingers digging into him is- good. Bad. It’s just more touch - he doesn’t want touch right now, he wants pressure-

holding you down you’re a mistake breaking your neck is so easy keep fighting keep fighting 

“I know,” he hears faintly. Was that him, or Gwen?

He keeps thrashing in Gwen’s hold, almost escaping once when he bit her shoulder and started to scratch, as she hopped from rooftop to rooftop. It was all a blur, he could only focus on how her heartbeat was too loud, and the feeling of her fingers and just her being so close was confusing his stupid fucking brain, it was all good, but it was actually all bad because he didn’t want that now, it made it worse actually.

“I’m sorry, I know,” he hears Gwen apologize to him. 

God. Someone end it. Someone cut him out of his skin. He can’t be here. He tries to wiggle out of her grasp one last time before he gives up and brings his hands back up to his mouth to bite down, to have any sort of control over anything he’s feeling.

“It’ll be okay,” Gwen whispers- still too loud.

He doesn’t really remember much else.

___

Miles rouses slowly. His eyes don’t open immediately when he tries, the crust is uncomfortable on his skin, and his limbs feel like they were made of stone. He turns his head to the side, only to be met with webbing. He moves his body slightly, feeling himself swing. So he’s in a hammock then. That’s fine, it’s better than waking up on the floor. Or that rooftop.

Wait, the roof, Gwen, he bit Gwen-

He sits up and looks out of the hammock as best as he can, quickly spotting the girl gently rubbing her now bandaged shoulder with a solemn expression. Quickly scrambling out and crawling down to be next to her, apologizing before he even hits the ground.

“Gwen, I am so sorry, I have no idea what came over me, I don’t know why I did that to you, I’m so sorry-”

Gwen stops him, “Miles, calm down, I’m fine, see?” She gestures to her shoulder, and his eyes trail down and catch her bandaged hand.

He doesn’t even remember that one, and that makes him feel even worse. Shame curls in his gut, makes his fingers twitch, he feels disgusting.

“Listen, you aren’t disgusting,” Gwen says gently, “you were scared and in pain, you might have been overstimulated. I know it gets really hard to control what you do. I’ve done, like, the same thing.” 

Miles nods, not believing her.

“Seriously Miles. I’m not mad or anything.”

Yeah right. Who wouldn’t be mad after being bit and just… being forced to deal with whatever that was. Even he’s mad about it, because it never lasts. It always ends eventually, he doesn’t know why he was being so dramatic and violent when he could have just stayed still and dealt with it until it passed.

It’s whatever. It’s over now, and Gwen is clearly trying to move on from it. He shouldn’t make her more upset. Talking with her is already like walking a tightrope, lately.

“I uh, I wrapped you up in that hammock. Did that help? You said- well, not really said, it was more like… mumbling, that you just wanted pressure. So did that help at all?” Gwen stumbles through asking, fiddling with her hands and furrowing her brow.

Her question takes him out of his thoughts for a second. “I guess it did,” Miles says after a moment of consideration. He honestly wasn’t sure how he was feeling, but he certainly wasn’t feeling bad, so that’s definitely an improvement. He’d have to keep this hammock idea in mind, how did he never think of that?

And like the strings controlling her had been cut, her shoulders drooping and lenses closing as she breathes out a sigh of relief (look at what you did to her, Miles), Gwen reaches out to him. She stops right before they make contact, allowing Miles to move forward and finish the hug. Gwen hugs tighter, but in weird waves, like she doesn’t actually know how long a hug is supposed to last and keeps trying to part when she thinks she should. Miles loves it anyway, because it’s Gwen, and the last time she hugged him this tight was when… oh, nevermind that. He doesn’t want to think about that right now.

Gwen’s hug tightens again, and he feels the tension in his body slipping away.

___

The one thug that’s still conscious decides to try his luck at talking with him. 

“So I noticed something…”

Congratulations , Miles doesn’t say. He doesn’t have the energy to speak to anybody for the night, and while people didn’t really like that because it also tended to mean Peter was ready to beat someone to a pulp, they’ve learned that sometimes the new Spider-Man was just… didn’t speak.

“Why are you organizing us by shoe size? And you got Har- um, gray tennis shoes wrong. He wears a size 11.”

A good save on the name reveal AND a correction so his order is perfect? Well mister, looks like you’re walking away scott-free tonight!

Just kidding . Miles smiles to himself as he picks up “Gray Tennis Shoes” and places him in between Blue Nikes (size 10)  and Black Boots (size 12 and a half). He turns back towards the talking thug, pointing to his shoes, who sighs before answering, “Size 7. And a half.”

Miles smiles wider as he drags the cocooned man to the right spot, and begins walking away to investigate the den.

“Wait, you didn’t answer my question! Why are you organizing us like this?” The man calls out to him, trying to sit up but failing. 

Because he overheard cops on duty making fun of the way he organized people by their hair color last time. He had to go for something a bit less noticeable. Obviously. 

But Miles doesn’t say any of this, because he just doesn’t want to. Not like he had to answer that guy anyway.

___

Now, don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t have complete control over when he wants to speak or not, as much as he’d like to pretend he does to save himself some embarrassment from admitting it. And it seems to be both random and stress-induced, which is already bad when you’re Spider-Man. Most of your days are extremely stressful with worrying about the best outcomes, the best and most effective ways to save people in danger, time management because of school or a job interview or a party your parents threw that you cannot be late for again, the usual. The simple moments to help around are like a mini-break where he can take his time to breathe and get a second wind, so they’re greatly appreciated. Don’t even get him started on the power-naps he can sometimes sneak in if it’s a calm enough day with just the right temperature and breeze…

Off track. Basically, he can’t always control if he goes silent or not.

Right now, during the cleanup after a fight, where all the debris is moved to small piles for him and others to clean up, and any civilians injured are given medical attention immediately or taken away to hospitals, he can’t speak. The villain- which looked surprisingly too high definition- only stopped attacking after it heard a little girl screaming, and it was pulled through a portal by a red, blue, and white hand. Miles didn’t even care about a Rhino from a different dimension somehow turning up here, and what that could mean about the (worsening) stability of his dimension, he just wanted to curl up somewhere nice and dark, and sleep for fifteen hours.

But Spider-Man has a duty to the people.

He removes the last bit of rubble from on top of a woman’s car, tears in her eyes as he guides her away from the smashed vehicle. She’s certainly going to have to replace it, but she definitely has bigger things to worry about, like the glass sticking out of her arm from jumping through the storefront window to avoid the Rhino’s rampage. 

That was pretty badass of you, he can’t say. He frowns. He wanted to make her feel a bit better. That’s one of the many drawbacks of this unwilling silence, it prevented him from comforting people in the way he knows best: talking their ear off until they’re too absorbed in (or annoyed by) his ramblings to freak out.

He sits with her in an ambulance that’s treating the people with more minor injuries. The paramedics are stretched thin, so he’s here taking the smallest pieces out of her arm while the paramedic is on her other side and checking for a concussion. 

The woman winces.

Sorry, he can’t say, but he looks up with a sad expression to meet her own exhausted and tear-streaked face, and knows the message isn’t getting across.

He goes back to pulling the glass out. He can’t even apologize for all the pain he’s causing her.

Focus, Miles.

“Spider-Man, you’re alright?” The paramedic asks after the woman is cleared and sent off. The hospitals have been at their highest capacity since… ugh. He doesn’t want to think about it when he has something to focus on now. “Not a talking day?”

Miles shakes his head, already making his way to help other people.

The entire time he’s pulling more glass shards out, holding more hands through painful processes and anxious checkups, hugging more children and holding more babies as the parents are found and reunited, simply sitting with those too shocked to even understand what had just happened, not once does the barrier come down. The people look to him for words of encouragement, assurances that it’ll be okay, they cling tighter to him and hope he’ll say something kind to ease their fear, that the person on the stretcher will survive and heal just fine. 

And it breaks his heart when people see he won’t say anything, it makes him feel so useless, what is he even sticking around for? He sees the hope leave their eyes, sees it replaced by grief, by horror, by nothingness. Nothingness is the worst, if you ask him. They’ve given up because he can’t even muster up enough strength to say a few simple words. It shouldn’t be this hard for him, Spider-Man, to say “you’re okay” or “take a breath” for god’s sake! If he could, he would yell until his throat was raw about how he was sorry for all this pain he’s only made worse. How everyone would be fine, just don’t look at the bodies! How they just needed to follow his breathing, and to follow him to the ambulance! Don’t worry about your destroyed car! How he’ll do better, he won’t let something like this happen again, how didn’t want this, didn’t choose this, he wants to tell them so bad-

But he can’t. So he doesn’t.

The probably-now-orphaned girl clings to his legs as they stand in front of a pile of rubble Miles hadn’t moved yet. He knew there were bodies (or what used to be bodies, anyway) under there, heard the heartbeats instantly stop while the Rhino threw the hunk of concrete so he could hold Miles down and slam his fist into his entire body. He thinks she was the one who screamed and stopped that Rhino for enough seconds to be taken away. There was blood splattered on the bottom of her frilly green dress, and all over her legs and shoes, and Miles just hopes she has family somewhere that’ll take her in. 

He really should move her away from this. At least cover her eyes.

You’re a hero, he can’t say. And I know it doesn’t mean anything right now, but you’ve saved a lot of people, he hopes his look to her gets across. You saved me.

The girl looks up at him with angry eyes and a dirty face, clean lines created by her tears going down her cheeks. Some good that did, she’s saying.

Miles says nothing, because of course he doesn’t, and holds her hand as they walk to an ambulance. She needs that blood cleaned off her.

___

Miles sobs into Ganke’s pillow, wishing the boy would return from the nurse’s office quicker. It’s been a week since then, and now he’s finally able to talk. So of course the first thing his brain makes him do is cry so hard he can’t even breathe properly. Ganke was appropriately freaked out by his sudden crying spell, and went to go get an ice pack for him for the headache that was sure to follow. 

The hiccups are bordering on painful now, his teeth and jaw aching from grinding his teeth so he doesn’t cry too loud when he needs to take a break from practically suffocating himself in the pillow. He can still see the blood on the ground, on the rubble, and on the little girl’s dress. 

He closes his eyes and covers his ears, for a reason he doesn’t understand, curling up and sobbing some more into the pillow. He tries to dig his toenails into his other foot’s skin, the pain doing nothing but making him flinch. Maybe it just wasn’t the right spot to get rid of it, these thoughts. If he found the right spot, maybe even combination, his brain would focus on the pain instead of these horrible memories. 

He removes his face from the pillow and bites down on his hand and scratches at the side of his face, his thighs, his neck, any skin he can reach. He finally feels the switch from “slightly painful and annoying” to “very painful, we’re in danger” like a gentle wave, and releases his hand from his jaw, letting out a weak cough of relief as he falls limply back onto the bed. His breathing makes it sound like he just ran a marathon, and It aches and burns like he just did too. A lot. His mind is blessedly empty and numb, he realizes, as his eyes struggle to stay open. What’s he fighting it for again?

Ganke. Right. Ganke was coming back with an ice pack for the headache that hasn’t hit yet. Stay awake for Ganke.

He inhales his friend’s faint scent from the pillow and sheets, and feels the dip in the mattress from where Ganke sleeps, a bit off center. Miles always tells him to flip his mattress, but he never does.

He faintly hears the door opening over the blood rushing in his ears, and feels a hand grab his own. The touch is gentle, but is gone before he has the chance to lean into it. There’s a welcomed cold sensation on his forehead, making him shudder and sigh.

And he’s waking up, the alarm screeching into his ear and making him groan in annoyance. He goes to smash the alarm clock, but a hand catches his before it could do any damage.

“Not this time man,” Ganke’s sleepy voice scolded from above, “we aren’t replacing that thing again.”

Above?

Miles opened his eyes, realizing he was in Ganke’s bunk. Oops. An apology was already on his lips as he peeked out from under the bunk, but it died on the tip of his tongue at the sight of Ganke’s bed-head, squinted eyes, and scrunched up nose. 

“You good? Because I had to take care of your hand last night,” the boy asks with a yawn.

Miles looks down at his hands and his eyes widen in shock. His right hand was bandaged up in a white gauze, albeit a little sloppily, like Ganke was in a rush or something when he did it.

“Yeah, sorry if it looks bad. It’s just that I wasn’t really expecting you to break skin,” the boy tells him, “have you seen my glasses?”

“They’re on your forehead,” Miles tells him in a fond tone, “and thanks man. I know it’s weird-”

“Uh uhn, don’t start that now. It’s too early in the morning for me to talk with you about if anything’s weird or not.”

Miles shrugs and rolls his eyes. “It’s always too early in the morning for you,” he says as he tries to find his clothes to get ready for the day.

___

Dear Diary,

Haven’t been the best lately. It’s like i’ve only been hurting people and myself. I bit Gwen a few weeks ago, then i couldn’t speak and help people when that Rhino dude came, and last night i bit my own hand. I know it’s bad and gross, but it feels like it’s the only thing i can do sometimes even when i can’t really control it. And it works for me most of the time so it’s real confusing. It’s like i don’t have control, and then next thing i know i’m biting myself, and i’m calmer. Ganke says it’s not weird, just worrying, but i’ve never seen anyone else do it. Guess i never really bothered to look it up either because i know it’s bad. wanted to end this entry on a good note but i can’t think of anything. tomorrow is another day though so there’s that.

Part 2 >>>