#at least he stayed in the dive ball...

[cockyroaches]

my age is starting to show with the name i pick for these guys huh.

man i really wish i could've hosted his raid, but my internet decided to kill itself RIGHT then. worked perfectly until i had to share something cool huh, cunt

also jesus christ.

[kakusu-shipping]

Redraw of my very self indulgent baby Self Insert for FNaF Security breach just because how I draw Sun in the original reference makes me want to scream

[ravenslvt]

why does your best friend's older brother have to be so hot?? :(((

☆ suna rintarou x fem!reader (pt.1) ☆

cw: smuut! p in v, v fingering, fluffy, lowk sweet, implied virgin reader, unprotected sex.

pt. 2 pt.3 pt.4

you sigh at the empty water bottle on the nightstand. you look over at your best friend, ami. she was fast asleep. you smiled, glad you were able to visit her on your break from university. you were grateful her parents let you stay over while they were out of the country for some sort of work meeting.

back to the important matter, your thirst. you slowly get up, trying not to wake your dark haired bestfriend. grabbing the tin water bottle and tiptoeing downstairs, making sure to close the door to her bedroom quietly on the way out.

you walk through the familiar halls of the house you’ve known since you were young. all the lights were off except the kitchen light.

walking in, you notice your bestfriend’s hot ass older brother, rintarou, leaning against the kitchen island on his phone. he was wearing his usual loose sweatpants, and a tight fitting t-shirt from your old highschool. it used to be loose on him, it was clear he’s been working out more and gained more muscle. his head perks up, he pauses whatever he was watching and speaks.

“hey, didn’t think anyone was still awake.” his voice is low and a little hushed.

you don’t notice the way his eyes go to your attire, small little sleep shorts and a tank top.

you notice he’s heating something up in the microwave as you reach the fridge, unscrewing the cap to your water bottle to refill it. you watch as the bottle slowly fills, talking to him.

“ami fell asleep and i was thirsty. she always passes out so fast” you softly chuckle. she was always the first to fall asleep at sleepovers, even in your childhood. girl was a deep sleeper.

“mmm” he simply hums, returning back to looking at his phone.

you turn back to face him, taking a refreshing sip of water.

“whatcha watchin?” you lean on your elbows against the counter, peering over at him.

your relationship with suna rintarou was…. friendly to say the least. he was only a year older than you and ami, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a (fat) crush on him since middle school.

you remembered the exact moment your crush on him had started. you and ami were twelve and rintarou was thirteen. you were at the suna’s family beach house for summer break.

you and ami relaxed in the sun, reading your assigned reading books together and laughing over how dumb you guys thought the plot was.

“seriously, this guy is so lame. he just mopes around and smokes cigarettes all day. dude’s gonna have lung problems” ami rolled her eyes at a certain line of the book.

you giggled and opened your mouth to say something to agree. until a volleyball came flying at you full speed. your eyes widened and you just froze. you two were aware rintarou and some of his friends were playing a game of beach volleyball a few feet away.

you flinched and put your arms up quickly in defense, but never felt impact. you look up to see a teenage rintarou who dived to grab the ball before it hit you.

“you good?” he called your name to get your attention. you just nodded, hiding the flushed state of you face with your book. he made a comment on how he read it in english class last year and if you needed any help on the work, he had your back.

“go away, rin. she doesn’t need your c- average help” his sister retorted as he walked back to his friends. he turned his head to give a small chuckle. you never forgot his smile since then.

back in the present, he takes his eyes off his video for a moment to look back at you.

“my game replays. hey, come watch this and tell me if you think furuhashi fucked us over with this serve” he did a ‘come here’ motion. you were at his side within a moment.

you peered at the phone screen over his shoulder. his phone looked so small compared to his large hands. he replayed the video for you to watch. you focused on the teamate he pointed to and it looked like he did a purposefully bad set, aiming right at the opponents head.

“ouch. seemed like he had personal beef with number eight….” your face scrunched in the way the opponent immediently fell to the floor from such a powerful blow.

“yeah, dude let his emotions get the best of him and got the rest of us in trouble with the ref for it” he shuts his phone off, sighing.

“you have another game next week, right? ami wanted me to go check you guys out.” you grab your bottle from the counter.

taking another sip of water, a small droplet spills past your mouth, down your neck, and disapears into the curve of your breasts. you notice the way his eyes follow the bead of water.

his eyes meet yours. and before he can open his mouth, the microwave beeps loudly. he quickly gets up to take the food out with a quick curse, hoping the obnoxious beeping didn’t wake anyone up.

he takes the steaming plate out of the appliance. you notice he heated up some cold pizza you guys ordered earlier in the night.

your eyes go back to his broad shoulders and arms, down to his large veiny hands. he’d matured a lot more since you’d seen him last.

you caught yourself staring, starting to feel a little awkward. you suddenly start to get a little hot, despite what little clothes you wore. you step away to leave the kitchen. your thoughts ran rampet of his hands. you pictured them touching your hair, your arms, your-

“where are you going?” his eyes are only on you now, his arms leaning against the counter to look at you.

“i- um should probably get back to ami” you gulp.

“why? isn’t she asleep? come hangout with your real favorite suna” he smirks, taking a peice of the hot pizza into his mouth.

you roll your eyes and fake scoff.

“don’t let your sister hear you say that, she might believe it” you cross your arms, eyeing him.

he swallowed, wiping his mouth with a napkin and smiling.

“i mean, it’s the truth. isn’t it?” god he was so cocky today. but you loved it.

“and what makes you think that, rin?” you played along. you step a little closer, this time you lean your elbows on the counter facing him. accidentally giving him a front row view of your cleavage through your thin top.

you see the way his eyes drop to your tits. oh you had him.

“cause, you think i’m cuter” his eyes flicker back to your own. he shrugs casually, a smug smirk on his face. his food now forgotten in his mind. only thing he wanted now was you.

“sure, whatever you want to think.” you sarcastically remark back.

he laughs, circling the kitchen island so now you had nothing between you except about a foot of space.

“oh i don’t have to think it, pretty. i know it” shit, he was getting closer and your heart was only beating faster.

“you’re delusional, rintarou.” you aren’t laughing anymore, smile fading to a more serious demeanor. you were nervous and he could tell.

he smiles, running a calloused finger down your arm. it left a trail of fire down your skin and your breath hitched.

“is that why you’re always staring at me. you think i don’t notice?” his voice is lower now, quieter.

fuck. he knew.

“as if you don’t oogle at me whenever i’m in a swimsuit.” you refuse to look away from his gaze.

he lets out a small chuckle. it was hypnotizing.

“i ‘oogle’ you no matter what you wear” he admits, almost proudly.

you eyes widen for a moment. you try your best to hold it together. his hand played with the ends of your hair. you two had never stood this close before.

you felt the flimsy fabric of your panties start to dampen.

“what’s got you all quiet?” his hand moves from your soft locks to hold your chin, forcing you to look right at him.

“screw you, rin” you retort, flustered. he snorts.

“you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” his face only got closer to yours.

you guys were so close, you had forgotten you weren’t the only two in the house.

“in your dreams-“ you start.

“knock that shit off. admit you want this as bad as i do” he says your name. your faces were now inches apart. his eyebrows furrowed and he just looked so attractive. he was studying your expressions, his eyes never leaving your face.

“rin i-“ you start again. this time his lips hover over yours, ghosting over your own.

“tell me to stop and i’ll go back up to my room and we will never speak of this again.” his hand moves to cup your cheek, his forhead resting on your, giving you a chance to pull away.

but you didn’t want to pull away and he didn’t either.

finally, after what seemed like years of tension, you snapped. going up on your tipy toes to crash your lips on his.

his hands immediately draw to your waist, holding you as close as possible while your hands wrap in his soft dark brown locks.

years of unresolved feelings and tension all poured into one heated kiss.

his hands gripping your waist moves down to your hips, he turns you so your rear is against the counter. how convinient his hips are the perfect height for the kitchen island.

you let out a soft gasp as he bites your bottom lip, he smirks and gently prods his tounge into your mouth, seeking permission first. you lean your head back to let him kiss you deeper.

he was fully addicted to your lips.

he pats your hip and you take it as a sign to hop on the marble counter, he helps you jump up. he slots himself inbetween your thighs, your lips never pulling apart.

“fuck. i can’t believe i haven’t tasted you sooner” he says in between kisses. you giggle at the way he refuses to pull apart from you.

he just grips your waist tighter, his cold hands slipping under the fabric of your tank top. you gasp as he reaches for your bare tits, lifting the fabric to rest above your breasts. you never wore a bra around him. and of course he always noticed.

he gave your perky tits a firm squeeze, you mewl into his mouth as he gently pinches your hardened nipples. his cold fingers adding an extra chill.

rintarou’s hips press gently into yours. you could feel his erection through his pants. you grip his hair tighter at the feeling of his clothed member rubbing against your clothed clit.

you unlatch a hand from his hair and bring it straight to his hardness. he hisses as you rub him through the pants. he could feel a small wet patch forming in his boxers.

“shit, take these off” he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your sleep shorts, you lift you hips for him to shimmy them down your legs, you didn’t even notice where he put them. you didn’t really care.

you were left in your little lace panties. he gave a lopsided smile at how prepared you were. it was like you knew he was gonna fuck you tonight. or maybe you wore these all the time around him, just waiting.

“this wet already?” he sucks in a breath, running a finger over the growing wet patch on your panties. you just nod and focus your gaze on his long fingers. you wanted them so bad.

“rin, please” you grab at his hand that was teasingly brushing over your clothed clit.

“stop teasing” you pout at him. he looks up at you and gives you another kiss.

“you’re too cute not to tease.” he pulls away and pulls your underwear to the side, spreading your legs more. he curses at the sight of your glistening pussy, knowing it was all for him.

he runs a long finger down your folds, causing your grip on his wrist to tighten.

“so worked up, aren’t you? no one ever touch you like this before?” he asks, continuing his motions up and down.

“n-no rin, just you.” you breathily admit, a bit emberassed. it was the truth though, he was the only one you really wanted over the years.

he lets out another curse at the thought of being the first guy to touch you in this way. he was straining against his boxers, his loose sweatpants suddenly feeling so tight on his hips.

“tell me if it hurts and i’ll stop, okay?” he looks you in the eye, serious. you just nod.

“wanna hear you say it, baby” he pulls his hand away from your cunt.

“yes rin, i swear” you assure, shimmying to the edge of the counter to be closer to him.

he smiles, giving you a peck on the forehead before prodding his middle finger into your tight hole, spreading your wetness to make sure you were ready.

he slowly enters you and you grip onto his shoulders for dear life. he gives a few slow experimental pumps of his finger before you were asking for more.

“this ok?” he whispers in you ear, kissing your neck.

“god yes. more please” you plead in a quiet tone, trying your best to keep silent.

he chuckles and adds his ring finger. just two was enough to stretch you out. it was a delicious pain of his large digits splitting you open. you couldn’t even imagine how good his cock would feel.

you bite your knuckles to muffle the sounds of pleasure you were making. but nothing could cover the wet noises coming from him finger fucking your pussy.

his wrist started to ache, but it was worth it to see the way you were taking it so well. he curled his fingers, doing a ‘come here’ motion inside of you. you let out a muffled curse as your legs started to shake.

he kept pumping and curling his fingers over and over. his long thick fingers reached places your little hands just couldn’t.

“i think i’m-“ you cut yourself off with a soft moan, still trying to be quiet.

he just kisses you through your orgasm, groaning into your own mouth. your pussy squeezes around his fingers and he swallows up all your noises. he imagines how you’d feel squeezing his cock like this, while his other hand groping your tit, pinching your nipple. you arch into him and pull away from his lips to breathe.

you pant and look at him, face completley flushed, he slowly removes his fingers. his hand was coated in your cum. he gives your chest a few small kisses, accidentally leaving faint marks on the skin. not an accident at all.

he was panting too. you looked at him, curiously. your eyes go down to his pants. there was an obvious wet stain in the front.

“did you….” your eyes go wide as he flushes with emberassment.

“m’sorry you were just so fucking hot i couldn’t-“ he starts, but you cut him off with your lips. you were immediately aroused again, but this time the only thing that could satisfy you was his cock.

you paw at his sweats, shaky fingers clumsily trying to untie the drawstring. he grips the back of your neck with one hand while the other helps take off his pants. he starts to stroke himself until he’s hard again, still recovering from blowing his load in his pants.

you swat his hand and give his cock long strokes. you finally get a good view of it. he wasn’t small by any means, but not obnoxiously large. it was a delicious size that made your mouth go dry. there was a certain blue vein that ran down from his tip, your finger running over it, making him hiss.

he noticed you staring and encourages you to continue, his thumbs rubbing your thighs in comfort.

you swipe your thumb over his slit making him shiver like a small dog. his tip was so sensitive. you move to try and hop off the counter to get on your knees, but he stopped you, gripping your hips.

“if you do that i won’t be able to last.” he pets your hip sensually. you pout.

“don’t give me that look. next time, i promise” he pecks your lips and your heart flutters. so there will be a next time.

his head rests on your shoulder as you continue to stroke up, switching from pumping it to teasing his tip. he stopped you once his hips started to sputter. he was like putty in your hands at this point.

“p-please” he says your name, panting.

“i need to be inside you. i need to feel you so bad, baby please” he begs, kissing your neck, leaving darker marks in his wake.

you whine at his words, using your legs to wrap around his hips, his cock sitting right above your needy cunt.

“fuck me already, rin” you give his cock a few more pumps before lining him up with your wanting hole.

he does as yous say, slowly pushing in, his mouth gaping wide and his head falls back once he’s fully inside of you.

now your head rests on his chest as you encourage him to move. he slowly pulls out then back in with a powerful thrust. you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming out. surley leaving a mark.

“ohmygod rin” you can’t help but chant out his name as his thrusts quicken. you were praying ami was still asleep or she would totally hear the sounds of his hips slapping into yours.

“shh. gotta be quiet, kay? don’t want your friend to hear you getting fucked by her big brother do you?” he clasped a hand over your mouth, you unconsciously squeezed him tighter. your eyes screwed shut tight.

“fuck. you’d probably like that wouldn’t you? want everyone to see how badly you want my dick?” he groans in a hushed tone, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper. he was loosing control.

he gripped onto your hips to stabilize his pace. you guys never broke eye contact as your mouth hung open silently, trying so hard to keep quiet. he smiles at how fucked out you already looked.

“rinnn” you whine.

“m’right here, pretty” he kisses you once again. one of your hands takes purchase in his (now) messy hair, the other one gripping onto his strong arm. you were sure you were clawing into him with your nails, but he didn’t seem to mind.

you were getting close already. he moaned into your mouth as you tightened around his cock. he fed you simple praises from his pretty mouth, encouraging you to cum.

your thighs tightened around his hips, wanting him to be even closer, if that was even possible.

“i got you, baby. let go” he whispers inbetween kisses.

he bites your lip as you cum on his cock, squeezing him in every possible way. you whine into his mouth, the kiss now turned so messy a bit of drool fell from your mouth.

he fucked you through your orgasm as you shake in his hold, he was holding back his own until you were satisfied. you started to mewl from the overstimulation of his veiny cock pounding into you.

he pulls out, pumping himself until he finishes on your thigh, letting out a hushed moan of your name from his lips, making you squeeze around nothing. both of you breathing heavily.

after you both cool down from your highs, he looks at you, full of admiration.

“you did amazing” he kisses your cheek.

once your mind fog clears, the realization hits you. you just fucked your childhood crush, your bestfriends brother. a part of you feels a little guilty, but the other part of you wants nothing more than to do it again.

he notices your hesitation, placing a gentle hand on your hair so soothe it down.

“hey, you okay?” he asks. you didn’t even notice when he had pulled his pants back up, or when he put your top back in place over your tits.

you give him a soft smile.

“i’m okay” you assure him.

“good” he smiles back, he grabs a nearby kitchen cloth and wipes off his spend from your thigh.

“gross, rin. people use that towel” you scold.

he just shrugs “i’ll throw it in the wash”

you both knew in your heads you couldn’t tell anyone about this.

it was your little secret.

suddenly, rintarou’s phone lights up from across the counter. he puts your panties back in place, grabbing your sleep shorts and putting your legs through them so you could put them back on. he snatches his phone for you both to see.

‘WEATHER WARNING: all schools in the area shut down for another two weeks’ the notification read.

your eyes widen. looks like you’d be staying at the suna’s house for a lot longer than you thought.

the next morning

“ouch, looks like your girl maimed you” ami laughs over her waffles. you sit next to her, pouring the syrup over your own. rin almost chokes on his food and your head snaps up.

“what?” he says with a mouthful of bacon. ami points to the scratches on his arm and the literal bite mark on his shoulder. your eyes go wide. you made sure to wear a hoodie to cover your own marks.

“aww rin hooked up with a wolf!” you add, trying not to raise suspicion. he squints his eyes at you, swallowing his food.

at least he had the decency to wipe down the counter before we ate.

“something like that” you eye eachother before turning back to your breakfast.

this was gonna be a long stay.

masterlist

a/n: i kinda wanna make this a mini series lollll lmk of you’d like a pt.2 (this is highkey ooc but idc!!! its fanfiction!!!! i love my fake man fr)

[loveinhawkins]

During the tail end of November 1984, the stars align in cruel and unusual ways: Eddie ends up sharing a compulsory Phys Ed. class with both Steve Harrington and Billy Hargrove.

Eddie groans when he find out, slams his forehead against his locker when no-one’s looking.

And the thing is, Steve isn’t the problem, not really. In fact, if he had been sharing the class with Steve alone, Eddie might’ve even considered it proof of some benevolent God existing. He’d probably have a few stressful occasions of trying not to make a complete fool out of himself—team sports are truly the worst, although he’s secretly not that bad of a soccer player—but at least he’d have a… nice view.

But no. Instead, the almighty schedulers of the Hawkins High timetable have decided to light the proverbial fuse.

Because sure, Steve’s known for being competitive, even borderline pissy if things don’t go his way on the basketball court. One would probably be subject to his baleful eyes for, like, five minutes at most before he got over it.

Hargrove, on the other hand, is another kettle of fish. In fact, he’s in a completely different fucking ocean.

He stalks through the school like a bloodthirsty gladiator, treats the gym like it’s his personal Coliseum.

Eddie honestly doesn’t know what the deal is, but he only has to witness Hargrove stare at Steve once from across the cafeteria to know that he loathes him. And from the quietly venomous look Steve gave in return, the feeling is definitely mutual.

So now he’s got to suffer through an entire period of playing baseball outside with the pair of them glaring daggers at each other. In a hilariously misguided attempt at easing the obvious tension, the teacher’s put Steve and Hargrove on the same team: Hargrove’s a center fielder and Steve’s the pitcher.

It’s neck and neck. Eddie is the last up to bat.

He steps forward with sweaty palms.

He’s got absolutely zero interest in being witness to the Hargrove v Harrington dick-measuring contest for any longer than he has to.

Please just let the ball be caught immediately, Eddie silently prays. Make my execution swift and painless.

“Hey, batter, batter,” Hargrove calls with his usual menacing sleaze.

Fucking juvenile.

Annoyingly, when Hargrove predictably yells, “Swing!”, it still makes Eddie jolt, swinging the bat on impulse.

But Steve’s not thrown the ball yet; he’s still tossing it up into the air, like he’s got all the time in the world.

Okay, I know you’re pissed, but quit the mind games, Harrington.

Steve catches Eddie’s eye, gaze lingering too long for it to be a coincidence. Then he drops the ball.

Billy chuckles. “Still clumsy, huh, King Steve?”

Steve rolls his eyes. He bends down to pick up the ball.

Even from this distance, the fading bruise on his cheekbone is easy to spot.

Eddie doesn’t like to think about it too often, especially when paired with the nasty gleam in Hargrove’s eyes. It makes his stomach sink.

Steve picks up the ball with one hand, but he stays low, one knee to the ground.

And then…

When he speaks, his lips barely move. “Hey, Munson. Left-handed, right?”

Bewildered, Eddie nods.

Steve stands up.

Eddie’s expecting to be caught off guard, for the ball to suddenly spin towards him.

Steve shrugs one shoulder back, looks Eddie right in the eye.

He mouths, Ready?

… What the fuck?

Eddie nods again.

Steve throws the ball, and it feels as if it’s being drawn, like an irresistible magnet, right to Eddie’s bat.

Eddie swings.

Crack.

The ball soars.

Eddie sees Hargrove’s jaw drop, hears him swear as he dives for the ball. He misses, sprints after it as it speeds through the grass—

Steve laughs. “Dude, what are you waiting for? Run!”

Eddie does.

He hits a home run before Hargrove can even attempt to throw the ball near him.

Breathless and grinning, Eddie lies down with his back on the ground, as his teammates cheer.

But someone else is by far the loudest.

Eddie sits up to see Steve yelling in triumph, hands cupped around his mouth.

Then he winks.

And Eddie thinks he’s never seen Steve Harrington look more delighted to lose.

[ghost-bxrd]

I beg of you, more selkie Jason please 🥺. You hc about lil pup Jason saving dick was adorable. I need more, respectfully.

Gladly 💚💚

Jason retreats to the cave pools whenever he’s sacred/insecure and doesn’t resurface (apart for the occasional breath) for a long while. The first time it happens post finding out about his selkie heritage, Bruce thinks Jason must be sick and calls several vets and Leslie to cover the range of both human and seal diseases

Dick loves cuddling with Jason when he’s in his seal form (pretty sure I mentioned this before but it bears repeating ksksks)

One time when Dick is sad Jason looks like he bit on a lemon before draping his seal skin across Dick’s shoulders. Dick is too stunned and touched by the show of trust to stay sad much longer (mission accomplished)

Bruce has hours of footage of seal!Jason doing happy little spins in the cave pools and making little pup squeals. Every single video has at least three backups on different servers.

Bruce offers to have an actual pool installed for Jason to swim in (somewhere that’s not the caves) but Jason declines because the cave pools are perfect to hide.

At least one of the family take Jason to the ocean once a month minimum. Jason is too overwhelmed by the expanse of water he refuses to leave the car at all during the first trip. Dick takes him back a couple days later and just sits down with him in the shallows for an hour before Jason allows himself to shift. Later that day Bruce gets a short video to his phone that shows grainy footage of a grinning Dick diving through the waters with a wide eyed seal pup at his side. Alfred thinks Bruce is having a stroke because the man’s never worn such a big smile on his face before.

Alfred discreetly asks Leslie to test Jason’s blood for any deficiencies. Not much is known about Selkie physiology, so a lack of fresh seafood might be detrimental to his health. Thankfully that is not the case.

Dick tries getting Jason to do tricks with a ball exactly once. Jason insists he didnt know how strong his tail flip would kick the ball back in Dick’s face, but Dick can see the little shit laughing from where he’s nursing a bleeding nose.

The first time Bruce sees Jason waddling over the rough cave floor with his soft seal skin he panics so much he actually starts yelling for Alfred to “get down here right now!” and scoops the bewildered seal pup up in his arms to deposit him smack dab on the first flat and smooth surface he can find to inspect Jason for scrape wounds.

Jason eventually apologizes for the trick ball incident and proposes a peace offering by showing Dick some choreographies of swimmers performing together with the seals. Him and Dick end up learning an entire show and perform it for Bruce and Alfred for Dick’s birthday. (Dick misses the circus, and while this is very different from what he had once, this… this comes close. And nobody is in danger of falling)

Jason is hyper aware of his family’s inability to hold their breath for long and keeps close watch on them in the water, nudging them back to the surface when he considers it too long 🦭

[courtforshort15]

Green is the Color

Pairing: Matt Murdock x FemReader

Word Count: 7,200

Summary: Karen Page looks flawless next to Matt in a way that you don’t. Insecurities and jealousies were bound to pop up at some point.

Trigger warnings: None. Just some angst with a happy ending.

Masterlist

You're jealous of Karen.

Beautiful, smart, sweet Karen who has never been anything but kind to you. Leggy, slender, blonde Karen who catches eyes effortlessly wherever she goes. Determined, self-sacrificing, truth-seeking Karen who seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, who seems honestly happy to see you whenever you join them out as a group.

And though you're the one who sleeps in Matt's bed more often than not, though you're the one he whispers soft, sweet things to while he holds your hand as you walk home, though you're the one he calls when he's hurt or happy or needing you with him, you can't help but be jealous of her.

They look flawless together. She's light where he is dark. She is petite in everything but height, and he is made of muscle and broad shoulders. She is sweet and open where he is charming and dangerous when you truly look at him. 

They are beautiful, standing together laughing loudly, and you are not the only one who notices.

"God, some people have all the luck, don't they?" A woman next to you at the bar says to her friend. It’s your turn to buy the drinks for the group, and you're waiting patiently as Josie helps another patron. The conversation catches your ear, and you're not exactly surprised when you notice they're talking about Matt and Karen. It's not the first time you've heard something of this sort.

"They'd have such beautiful babies," the other woman replies, and the sound of her voice and the words being said pierces into your skin. "They look so good together it almost hurts. I hate them."

The women gather their drinks with shared laughter and walk away, leaving you to yourself while you wait on Josie. Your cheeks burn in something akin to shame and sadness, the realization that you'll never look as good next to him as Karen does. And though Matt has told you time and time again how much he loves you, it's not the first shred of doubt you've felt. 

Hearing someone else echo the things that have lived inside your heart for so long drives a sharp blade into your chest, and you struggle as you work to maintain your breathing, knowing Matt will pick up on the irregularity. You're in a crowded bar and Matt is a few drinks in, so you think you're safe at your current distance away, but the second you join the group, he'll be able to tell that something is off if you don't force yourself to calm down.

With a fake grin that pulls sharply at the corners of your suddenly dry mouth, you thank Josie when she sets your drinks in front of you, and you slowly make your way back over to them where they're playing a game of pool. You set the drinks on the table next to them, and Foggy immediately dives into the beer you've brought over. 

Karen thanks you for her drink with a smile, and Matt squeezes your hand in appreciation before he plays the part of an ordinary blind man and pretends to be awful at the game. It's all in good fun for him, though you all know he could whip everyone's ass, and he gasps in fake shock whenever he sinks a ball intentionally that he pretends is unintentional for the benefit of whatever bystander may be nearby. 

Matt says something that makes Karen laugh, and she places a hand on his shoulder as he smiles. Matt is your boyfriend, the man you'd gladly spend the rest of your life with, but you suddenly feel like an intruder in your own relationship. 

With a grimace you hope no one notices, you toss your drink back, setting the glass loudly back on to the table. 

"I think I'm going to call it a night," you tell the group, already turning to grab your purse. Immediately they all protest, asking you to stay for another game, or at least another round of drinks. You try to make the smile on your face look as warm and friendly as it always is, but you know you fail on some level. But in everyone's inebriated state, they all take it as completely genuine. 

"Alright, sweetheart," Matt says easily, placing his cue stick in the rack, turning to grab his suit jacket from where it's been tossed over one of the chairs. "We can leave. Are you staying with me tonight? Or do you want me to come over to your place?"

"No, it's totally fine," you object instantly, already taking a few steps away in an effort to distance yourself. "You should stay and have fun."

He waves your protest away with a smile. "We’ve been here for a while already. We can head out.”

You let out a laugh that surprisingly doesn’t sound nearly as fake as it feels. “You guys won a big case today. You deserve to stay out and celebrate.”

“She’s right, Matt!” Foggy calls out from the other side of the table before he takes a long sip of his beer. “We deserve all the alcohol that Josie can provide us with tonight. That case was a nightmare.”

Your laugh is a little more genuine this time, eyeing the way Foggy sways when he puts his beer down. Karen isn’t faring much better, if the flush on her cheeks is anything to go by. “Stay, Matt. I’ll be okay getting home.”

The easy smile has left his face, and he makes his way over to you. You stay rooted to the spot, knowing that rejecting his advancements would tip him off to the fact that something is wrong. There's also the factor that you hate denying him any sort of affection he needs to give or take from you, so you stand still and wait for him. When he’s in front of you, he reaches a hand up and pushes a piece of hair behind your ear, rubbing a finger over your cheekbone with the movement.

“Are you alright?” He asks quietly, his voice meant for only your ears. “I can at least walk you home if you want.”

You turn your head to press a light kiss to the inside of his wrist, unable to deny yourself the warmth that his closeness brings you. “I’m just tired, and I think my stomach is a little off.” This close to you, he should be able to tell a lie from the truth, but the words that leave your mouth are honest enough. You’re tired of feeling inadequate, and your stomach is reeling with the thought of other people seeing what you see when you look at Matt and Karen.

The excuse you’ve given him is completely true, he just doesn’t know the reasons behind them.

“Then I should definitely–”

Smiling slightly, you shake your head. “I’ll take a cab home. I want you to stay with your friends and have a good time. You earned it."

Matt sighs and reluctantly agrees to let you leave without him, but not before pulling you in close and placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I’ll call you later, alright? If you’re still up, I’ll come over when I’m done tonight.”

“That works,” you say with a small shrug. A small smile slides across his face, and he pulls you in one more time to press his mouth to yours, before he takes a step back and turns to face his friends. You send Foggy and Karen a quick wave and another false smile, before making your way to the door.

You don’t miss the way the two women from before not-so subtly eye you up and down with their eyebrows raised, no doubt finding you lacking for a beautiful man such as Matt, especially when compared to the gorgeous woman that is one Karen Page.

Your cheeks burn again, but you push past the women without a word.

When you’re all settled in bed, you curl your knees up to your chest, yanking your heavy blankets over you in an effort to keep yourself in and the rest of the world out. A few tears cloud your vision, but you squeeze your eyes tightly shut to keep them from slipping out. If Matt were to stop by, he’d smell the salt of the tears, and nothing would stop him from getting an answer out of you for why you were upset.

He’d know if you were lying, no longer distracted by his friends and the loud noise of the bar, and you’d be unable to persuade him to let it go. Feelings would tumble from your mouth unchecked, and he’d either be angry or hurt at your accusations. 

…or worse, he’d admit that he feels the way about Karen that the rest of the world has decided he should.

In order to keep that from happening, you turn your phone on do not disturb in an effort to make sure you’re not woken up by his call, hopefully keeping him away for the night if he decides not to disturb your sleep.

You ignore the way your heart twists painfully in your chest.

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

“That looks awful, Foggy,” you tell him as you step into the office of Nelson, Murdock & Page a month later, eyeing the way his face is peeling from an awful sunburn he’d gotten on a trip to Florida to visit his parents. “Do you need me to go and get some aloe for you?”

Foggy laughs, but immediately winces as the expression on his face pulls at the skin that already looks extremely painful. “I’ve got some in my drawer,” he says, motioning to the bottom part of his desk. “I’ve been told to reapply several times during the day. Thank God I don’t have any clients coming in today. I'll just be here all day working through some case items with Matt.”

“That’s good at least,” you say, walking forward and placing a sandwich on Foggy’s desk before taking a seat in one of their lobby chairs, waiting for Matt to arrive so that you can have lunch with him in his office. You’d picked up sandwiches from his favorite deli, including one for Foggy, knowing Matt won’t have time to go out and meet up with you somewhere today.

“Thanks for bringing this, by the way,” Foggy says with the biggest smile he can offer with the way the skin has tightened on his face. “Though, I’m not quite sure how I’m going to open my mouth wide enough to eat this.”

You send him a sympathetic look. “I can’t imagine. It looks super uncomfortable.”

Foggy snorts. “If I can deal with watching Matt kiss Karen in the hospital that one time, I can deal with this. Now that was uncomfortable.”

Your blood runs cold. 

“Matt…kissed Karen?” You ask, heart hammering uncomfortably in your chest, the increased speed sharp and painful as it pounds relentlessly. “When was that?”

Foggy must not hear the way your voice has changed, too busy trying to take a bit of his sandwich. “During the Punisher case. I like…turned to look at them, and bam. A full smack of his lips against hers, and it looked just as uncomfortable for me as it was for them.”

“So this…was a while ago?” 

Foggy freezes, finally glancing back up at you, a confused frown on his face. “Matt didn’t tell you?”

You shift in your seat, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, but you're not quite sure if you pull it off. “Tell me what?”

He shakes his head. “I mean, it’s no big deal, really. They only dated for a small period of time, and it’s barely even worth mentioning, to be honest. It was right as Elektra came back into the picture.”

Ah, Elektra.

The woman whose scars you’ve been steadily trying to heal ever since you met him.

“Do you think it would have gone anywhere if Elektra hadn’t come back?” You ask hesitantly, fingernails biting into the palm of your hand. Foggy looks thoughtful.

“I’m not sure,” he says, appearing to think about it. “They definitely liked each other. It could have been something, had either one of them been truthful with each other. To be honest, I kind of thought they would try again after everything with Fisk, but they’ve remained just friends.”

You glance down at your hands, struggling to take a deep breath. When you glance back up, Foggy is frowning heavily.

“Are you okay?”

Forcing a smile on your face, you nod, trying to get rid of the images of beautiful Karen and handsome Matt, standing next to each other and smiling, like they had that night at Josie’s. The picture of them together flashes through your head almost brutally. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. I just didn’t know is all,” you tell him with a shrug of your shoulders. “And I’m super hungry, so I think I’m a little out of it.”

Foggy looks at you, eyes narrowing in consideration, before his face brightens again. “I totally feel that. Like…my life is perpetually split into two sections; eating, or thinking about when I’m going to eat again. My stomach is forever calling out for food.”

You laugh, and while you find what he’s said amusing, it’s not enough to drown out the roaring in your ears. The new knowledge has sent you spiraling, and it’s like every thought you’ve had about the two of them is standing in front of you, taunting you. Matt and Karen had at one point been together. Maybe only for a short period of time, according to Foggy, but feelings had been there, and you can’t help but think that you were possibly the thing that was standing in the way of the universe correcting itself.

Foggy has thankfully turned back to his sandwich, and you pray for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

Your phone rings, and you pull it out of your purse, grateful for the first time in your life to see your boss’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” her voice greets you, “I know you’re taking your lunch, but is there any way you can come back early? Someone in accounting messed up the data you’ve collected, and I could really use some help getting it sorted back out. It needs to be resubmitted by the end of the day.”

Perfect. 

“Yes, I can be there in ten. I’ll see you soon.”

Your boss hangs up, and you’re shoving your phone into your purse as you rise up from your chair. “I have to go, work emergency,” you tell Foggy in explanation as he looks at you questioningly. “Will you give Matt his lunch and tell him I’m sorry I missed him?”

He nods with a small grin, gingerly wiping his mouth with a napkin as he swallows, careful to not rub too hard. His skin really does look painful. “I’ll tell him to give you a call later. He’ll be sad that he didn’t get to spend lunch with you.”

Your heart aches painfully in your chest. You’re sad, too, but right now the relief far outweighs the disappointment. You’re not sure you’d be able to handle sitting across from him right now, insecurities and negative thoughts spreading through your entire body like an uncontrollable wildfire. 

Matt has always made your heart pound relentlessly in your chest, the mere thought of him sending you into overdrive. His wide smile. His cocky smirk. His beautiful eyes he only lets a select few see. His soft skin.

But now your heart is pounding for a whole different reason, the anxiety ensnaring you so completely in such a small period of time, and you don’t want him around to witness the fallout that’s bound to happen.

You send one last smile to Foggy, and if he notices the panic and misery in it, he doesn’t say anything.

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

The final nail in the coffin happens at a fundraiser Nelson, Murdock & Page had been invited to. The fundraiser was raising money to help underprivileged individuals afford legal counsel when charged with petty crimes, and the firm is happy to attend and donate what they can to the cause. 

Matt had asked you to accompany him, wide smile on his face while he told you about the mission and purpose, and you readily accepted his invitation to join. He seemed so eager and excited, and you couldn't have thought of an excuse to justify not going if you tried.

You’d picked out a beautiful dress for the evening. Red and black, an echo of the black he wears out at night, and the red of his sharp lenses, two different personas he puts on for the world. You prefer Matt in sweat pants and a hoodie with large fuzzy socks pulled up mid-shin, but you love all pieces of him, and this dress reminds you of the person he chooses to be for his city.

He’s running late, which is unsurprising, given the long day he’d had in court. He warned you earlier that his work day may run over, but that he’d join the group as quickly as possible. 

You enter the fundraiser with Foggy, Karen, and Marci instead, taking in the way the lobby of the museum has transformed into a beautiful layout filled with cocktail tables that are covered with sleek black cloths and lit-up centerpieces. The lighting is low and almost romantic, a soft jazz band is playing on a stage directly ahead, and there are various decorations and balloons in hues of blues and purples.

It’s not necessarily a black-tie event, but people are dressed beautifully as they talk amongst themselves, weaving in and out of the crowd as they greet and strike up new conversations with people who have just walked in. It’s not exactly surprising when an older woman walks up to the group with a smile on her face, arms outstretched for a hug. Your group of lawyers is bound to run into people they know.

“Foggy,” she greets warmly, pulling him in, squeezing him to her. Foggy leans in immediately, beaming at the woman.

“Emily,” he says with a kiss to her cheek. “Always wonderful to see you.” He turns to the rest of the group, arm still around her shoulders. “Everyone, this is Emily Davidson. She is an old friend of the family.”

She smiles broadly at the group, before lifting her face back towards Foggy

“Where’s Matt?” Emily questions, arm still wrapped around his waist after a brief chorus of hellos are said. “I thought he was coming.”

“He’ll be here soon,” Foggy answers easily. He takes a flute of champagne that a waiter hands to him. “This is–”

“Oh, you must be his girlfriend,” she says with a large smile, interrupting Foggy and finally stepping away from him. Her eyes are absolutely lit up with warmth and excitement. “Matt said you’d be here with him.”

But Emily isn’t looking at you. She’s looking at Karen.

Your heart drops. 

Of course it’s Karen. It’s always Karen.

“Aren’t you just beautiful,” she gushes, grabbing Karen’s hands in what can only be described as pure joy. “That boy always sure knew how to pick them.”

“I’m not—”

“He says you’ve been together for over a year, right?” She continues, voice carrying over Karen’s immediate objection. Karen gives you a look that is extremely apologetic, cheeks turning red. “None of the other women he’s brought around have stuck. I’m so happy to know someone as sweet looking as you has decided to–”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Karen finally manages to interrupt, looking deeply uncomfortable as she shifts on her feet. The woman frowns, but Karen removes her hands from hers and gestures towards you with a smile that is kind, but also increasingly awkward.

Emily stares at you for a second, mouth dropping infinitesimally, but she recovers quickly, a wide smile once again lighting up her face. Though she is subtle about it you don’t miss the way her eyes briefly glance up and down, as if sizing you up. 

“Oh. It’s so nice to meet you, dear,” she says, taking a step towards you. Her gaze upon you is kind, but more reserved and closed off than it had been with Karen. She seems to be yet another person who expects Matt to have someone as beautiful as Karen on his arm, and the thought causes your throat to go dry and your heart to drop. “You look lovely, too. That dress is stunning.”

You force a smile, and you hate the way it’s appeared on your face more and more these past few weeks. It was once a smile that was meant for the occasional awkward conversation, but lately it’s almost found a permanent home on your face.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” you tell her, hugging her awkwardly when she pulls you in. Your body is full of tension, and your movements feel stiff. She pulls away, taking a step back. She eyes the group once more, the four of you in a semi-circle around her, before mentioning that she has some friends she needs to catch up with. Emily walks away, unaware of the turmoil that is brewing in you.

The air is sweltering around the four of you, and your hand is holding on to your clutch in a grip that would be bruising if it was someone's hand instead.

Karen abruptly turns to you, an hesitant smile on her face, “I–”

“Does anyone know where the bathroom is?” You cut her off, making a show of looking around you, trying to spot one. Your eyes land on one finally, and it’s like a lifeline that’s calling to you. “Oh, there it is. I’ll be back in a few.” Without another word, you turn on your heel and make your way towards the bathroom, shoes clacking loudly on the floor. 

You're in a stall before you know it, the bathroom shockingly but thankfully unoccupied. You lock the stall door with shaking hands, begging yourself not to cry as your face crumbles. The last thing you want is to go back out to your friends with red eyes and smeared mascara, so you bite your tongue until it bleeds.

You have to get out of here.

An idea springs up inside your head, and you yank your phone out of your purse, immediately pulling up your message chain with your younger sister. 

Text Sent 7:32pm: I need you to call me in fifteen minutes with an emergency.

You hold your breath, praying that your sister responds shortly. It’s always been a code when one of you needs an excuse to get out of something, and you’ve never relied on it the way you’re relying on it now.

Text Received 7:33pm: Is everything okay?

Sighing in relief that she’s answered so quickly, tears still pricking at your eyes, you type out a quick reply.

Text Sent 7:33pm: Not really, but I’ll explain later. Can you call me in a few?

Text Received 7:34pm: Absolutely.

You rejoin your friends with another fake smile, and make an effort to seem as put together as possible. Temporarily shoving your misery aside, you crack a few jokes, laugh at Foggy’s commentary of the people around him, and tap your champagne flute against Karen’s in a funny, random toast, ignoring the way she’s looking at you in concern. You make a show of wondering where Matt is, casually mentioning that he had said he would be arriving soon, craning your neck to glance around the room as if in search for him.

In reality, you’re hoping he’s nowhere near the event, so that you can slip out without a word.

You know you’re being borderline childish with how you’re reacting. It had been an easy mistake on Emily’s part, but it’s once again reinforcing the idea that Matt should be with someone who looks like Karen, at least by society’s standards.

A beautiful man with a beautiful woman. It doesn't matter that he's blind and can't possibly know what his partner looks like; there's still an unfortunate, unspoken rule that says beautiful people belong with other beautiful people.

You're cute, in your own way. But other people don't seem to think it's enough. And while you’d normally be the type of person to flip society the bird, you can only hear the same message so many times before it starts to sink in like a poison with no antidote.

True to her word, your sister calls at the fifteen minute mark, and you feel the way your phone is vibrating in your purse. You pull it out, sending a quick apologetic look to the trio as you take a small step to the side, and answer it.

“Hello?”

“Are you coming over to talk about whatever is going on?” Your sister says in greeting, her dry tone still managing to sound a bit concerned.

“Oh no, are you okay?” You ask in reply, placing a heavy frown on your face. The group is watching you closely, even while they make small talk amongst themselves.

“Did Matt do something?”

“I’m at an event right now,” you say, somehow managing to sound regretful, letting a wince slide across your face. Foggy looks at you, his brow furrowed, as if trying to figure out what's going on. When he wants to be, he's more perceptive than anyone ever gives him credit for. “Can I come by after?”

“Tell whoever’s there that I need stitches or something,” your sister suggests helpfully.

You sigh loudly, shifting your eyes upward in what you hope conveys a small amount of annoyance. “Okay, I’m coming.” You hang up shortly after, turning to the group with an unhappy look across your face. At least that part isn’t necessarily a lie. 

“Do you really have to leave?” Karen asks, and while she sounds sympathetic to whatever may have happened on the phone, there’s also a tiny spark of suspicion in her eyes. You ignore it.

“My sister sliced her hand open and probably needs stitches,” you say as an explanation, grimacing. “She asked me to meet her at the hospital. She’s awful with needles and is freaking out. I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”

Marci gives you a sad smile, and it looks a little too knowing for your taste. She’s the one who knows you the least, and while she’s a part of the friend group by way of Foggy, you don’t know her nearly enough to be overly concerned about whether or not she believes the act.

Foggy and Karen, on the other hand, seem to be a little more cautious with the explanation you’ve given, and you know that if you stay with them much longer, they’ll see right through the agony that’s tearing its way through you, no matter how hard you’re trying to keep it at bay.

“Tell Matt that I’m sorry to have to leave so early,” you say to Foggy as you lean in to give him a hug. Karen hugs you, too, and you try not to flinch from the touch. 

Beautiful, lovely Karen. It’s not her fault, you know. But it doesn’t stop the sting.

“You could call him yourself,” Foggy suggests as you move to leave the group. You don’t answer, adrenaline and panic finally sliding through the cracks, and you can’t be there one second more. 

You’re crying on your sister’s couch in a set of pajamas she’s leant you forty-five minutes later, bottle of whiskey on the table in front of you, your cell phone once again on do not disturb with a growing collection of missed calls and voicemails.

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

You stumble back into your apartment the next morning, still dressed in your sister’s pajamas, evening dress bunched over your arm. Your expensive heels hang almost pathetically from your fingers, a reminder of a failed night out, having been replaced by a pair of old flip flops.

“Hey,” a voice says, and you’re not necessarily surprised to see him standing in your kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee. He looks tired, more tired than you’ve seen in a long time, and you wince, knowing a large part of it is due to you.

“Hey,” you whisper in reply. You set your shoes and dress on your kitchen table, rubbing your eyes tiredly. “What are you doing here?”

Matt’s eyebrows shoot up in slight surprise, mouth parting. “Am I…unwelcome here? Am I intruding?”

“No, of course not,” you say in a rush, disliking the way his beautiful face flashes with something that looks like hurt. “I just…wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

“You would have known if you bothered to answer my calls or listen to any of the several voicemails I left last night.”

You hang your head in shame and guilt. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I had no idea what was going on,” he tells you, placing his coffee cup on the counter and taking a slow step forward. There's a look of concern on his face, though it's buried under a level of irritation and exasperation that seems to be slowly settling in. “You were just…gone.”

“I told Foggy and Karen that my sister–”

“You’re a horrible liar, sweetheart,” Matt says with a laugh that almost sounds bitter. “They knew something was up, and unfortunately I was still too far away to know something had happened to actually do anything.”

“Nothing hap–”

“Did you miss the part where I just said you are a horrible liar?”

Your jaw snaps shut. 

“Your sister finally called me back last night after you went to bed, or else I would have had no idea where you were,” Matt says, and he sounds extremely frustrated. “You can’t…you can’t just disappear on me like that.”

You know the way people have just up and left him in the past without a word, you know the way it has continued to leave scars on him, and it makes you feel incredibly guilty. But it doesn't stop the way you begin to also feel defensive, a direct result of the weeks of hurt still flowing through you. 

“I’m not a child, Matt,” you tell him in something that could almost be construed as a snap. “You don’t need to know my whereabouts all hours of the day.”

He looks like he’s been slapped and you wince, already regretting the words. “That’s not–you think that’s what this is? Me being clingy? Or–or me trying to control what you do?”

“No–”

“Foggy said you ran out of there last night looking like you were about to burst into tears and all I could do was call and call and call and pray that you were okay. You went to your sister’s place in Jersey because you knew I wouldn’t be able to track you the further away you got, right? That I would have no idea where you were unless someone told me?"

You flinch, you can't help it. “That wasn’t the only rea–”

“And all because a woman mistook Karen as my girlfriend instead of you?” He asks incredulously. “How childish is that?”

It’s your turn to feel like you’ve been slapped. Your cheeks flood in shame, embarrassment, pain. You’re not quite sure how to respond to it, because a part of you knows how childish it had been. But the insecurity is not based on one event, but a series of them, and the chorus of voices in your head that tells you you're not good enough for him has been growing steadily louder since that night at the bar.

Matt’s words have effectively stunned you into silence, and while you open your mouth several times to speak, nothing comes out. Your shoulders sag, and you all but curl into yourself, hugging your arms around your waist in an effort to appear as small as possible.

To take up as little space as possible. 

The way Matt is still tense tells you that he had been ready for you to fire something back at him, some sort of rebuttal that he’d easily tear down as he would in court, and when you don’t, he seems confused. His brow furrows as you all but wilt in front of him. 

You watch as a flicker of realization passes over his face, and you cringe. He's caught on, and you don't like it.

“It actually…it actually hurt you,” he says, and his voice is startlingly quiet, a sharp contrast to the way he had sounded so heated and frustrated just moments before. “Didn’t it?”

You give a noncommittal shrug, shoulders rising and falling ever so slightly, but otherwise don’t have any sort of reaction. 

Matt licks his lips, and your eyes can’t help but follow the motion even in your misery. “Why…why did that upset you so much?” You shrug your shoulders again, but he shakes his head, as if refusing your lack of a response. “No-no, don’t do that. You can’t have a reaction like that and expect me to just not say anything about it, to not want to know what’s wrong or what I can do to fix it. Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes are welling with tears before you can even try to stop them, and with a quiet whine, you cover your face in your hands. 

You hear Matt swear, and before you can even take your first shuddering breath, he is wrapped around you. Your head is tucked under his chin, a hand cradling the back of your skull to keep you pressed into him, the other wrapped around your back. You leave your hands covering your face, unwilling to tear down the barrier at the moment. You’re barely holding things in as it is, and the thought of exposing yourself to him completely right now is terrifying.

He’s whispering soothing words into your ear, the same things he always tells you when he knows you’re upset, and while the words take the edge off, they’re not a match for the misery that’s got you shredded by its claws.

Eventually he takes a step back, though his body is still pressed lightly against yours. With slow movements, he removes his arms from around you, and gently tries to pry your hands from your face. You struggle against him for a moment, tears still soaking your hands, but you give in, as you so often do, when it comes to the gentle force that is Matt Murdock.

He tilts your face up and places a soft kiss onto your forehead, palms cupping your face as he gently wipes the tears that have dripped down your cheeks. His eyes dance blindly across your face, and though he can’t see the way your sadness has literally poured from you, he can feel the way the heat of the tears have scalded you on their way down.

“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” he whispers against your skin, still cradling your face in his scarred, calloused hands. “What happened?”

You take a deep breath, one that sounds more like a gasp than anything, and keep your eyes squeezed shut. “Everyone always…everyone always assumes you’re with her.”

“With Karen?”

You nod, fingers twisting themselves into the t-shirt he’s wearing. 

“It’s happened more than once?”

“It happens all the time,” you tell him with something that sounds suspiciously like another sob. His frown deepens. “And maybe…maybe I just hear it more now because I've become so sensitive to it, but it’s happened quite a few times. And I know how stupid it is because I shouldn’t listen to what other people say, but it still just sucks to hear it over and over again.”

“What do people say?”

You try to twist out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let you. He presses another kiss to your forehead and asks the question again, softer this time. “They say…they say how beautiful you are together. How you’ll have beautiful children together. And when they–when they see that you’re with me instead, it’s almost like it’s offensive to them.”

Matt makes a mournful sound in the back of his throat, thumb catching a new wave of tears that trail down your cheeks at the admission. “None of that matters to me. You know that. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met, and I don't need to be able to see you to know that.”

“I know,” you whimper, and the sound makes you feel borderline pathetic. “But it matters to me.”

“Why, sweetheart?”

“Because it’s like everyone is saying I’m not good enough for you,” you say, still keeping your eyes closed as you expel the root of the insecurity. You feel like you're tearing yourself apart for him, the wounds every bit as real as the ones you spend night after night patching up on him. 

“She is beautiful and kind and all the wonderful things you can think about a person. And I love Karen, she is such a wonderful person, and I'm incredibly lucky to call her a friend." You open your eyes briefly, taking in the way Matt looks just as pained at the words spilling from your mouth. "But it’s hard when everyone is basically telling me that she’s the person you should be with. And it’s–it’s not like I haven’t thought the same thing before. But hearing it come from other people just makes it worse.”

“Why would you–”

“And then Foggy told me–”

“Foggy?”

“--that you and Karen used to date,” you continue, as if the words can’t be stopped now. “He told me that you were together briefly, and that maybe it would have continued had Elektra not come into the picture. He said he had half-expected you two to perhaps get back together, or to try again. And I couldn’t help but think that maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. That maybe I’m just some placeholder until–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he says, and though he hasn’t raised his voice, the tone is stern and it finally manages to cut you off. You lower your head, but he lifts it back up. “Open your eyes.” With a deep breath, you do so, his face coming into view above yours. His mouth is parted in something that both resembles shock and slight frustration. “I am with you because I love you. Not because I can’t have Karen. Not because it didn’t work out with her. I am not with her because I don’t want her. I want you, only you.” 

“But–”

“We went on one date, and I knew pretty early on that even though it felt nice for a moment, it was never going to be something that was sustainable, or worth fighting for because she wasn’t right for me. There is nothing between us, and there hasn’t been in years, and there won’t ever be again, because I am with the person I want to be with,” he tells you fiercely, pressing his forehead into yours, thumb tracing your bottom lip. “I am yours in every single way. And whatever you need from me to help you believe that, say the word and it’s yours.”

His tone is once again quiet and gentle by the time he’s finished speaking, and the words are a balm that rushes through your skin, putting out and soothing the heat and anxiety that has been coursing through your veins since the night before. You take shuddering breath after shuddering breath, attempting to bring your heart rate back down to normal, and at last you succeed.

“Sweetheart?” he asks gently when you’re quiet for too long. He pulls his head back, head tilted down towards you in the way you’re so familiar with. “Tell me what you need from me.”

You shake your head, contemplating the right words. “I can’t think of anything that you don’t already do, Matt,” you admit softly. “You…you already know what I need before I even know how to articulate it.”

He's quiet for a moment before he opens his mouth. "Do we need to…keep a little distance from her for a bit?" He looks deeply unsettled by the idea, and it's equally disorienting to you, too.

"God, no," you say with a gasp, jerking back as far as his hold on you will let you. "None of this is on her, at all. And I don't want her to feel like she did anything, because she didn't."

Matt looks relieved. "I didn't think it would be something you'd go for, but I wanted to throw it on the table, in case you did need some space."

You shake your head. "No, I don't need anything like that. I promise. Foggy and Karen are my friends, too, you know," you tell him, mouth tilted ever slightly at the corner as you think about all the memories you've shared over the past year. "Sure, I met them through you, but I love them. You're a package deal, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

He tucks a stand of hair behind your ear. "They feel the same way about you."

You can't help the way your smile widens slightly. "Good…I'm glad."

Matt places another kiss on your forehead, pausing again before he speaks. “I like to think I'm good at reading you,” he says softly, eyes landing on your shoulder, the color almost green in the sunlight that's pouring in from your kitchen window. “And I like to think that not a lot gets by me. But this did. And it seems like it’s been there for a while.”

You shrug, as always trying to downplay the way you’re feeling, but per usual, Matt doesn’t let you get away with it. 

“It was a miss on my part,” he continues with a sigh. “I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on the fact that something was off.”

“Nothing about this is your fault, so please don’t apologize.” He opens his mouth to object, but you shush him with a soft finger on his lips. “I could have said something. I know how to use my words. I… purposefully avoided you when I was feeling like this because I knew you’d pull it out of me eventually. So that’s on me, I think.”

He looks contemplative for a second, before a small smile graces his face. You trace his mouth with the finger that’s already resting there, and he takes the opportunity to press a kiss to it. “I’ll make an effort to listen more for when something might be upsetting you, and you’ll make an effort to talk to me about it. Deal?”

Nodding, you mirror the small grin. “Deal.”

“And if I feel the need to pull you close and put my hands on you in public so that everyone knows you're mine, you'll be okay with that, right?"

You can't help but huff a laugh. "Matt–"

"Or if you prefer, you can do the same to me, whenever the need arises," he says innocently.

Your eyebrows raise. "Why do I feel like you're asking me to claim you in public?"

"It's a mutual claiming, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes fondly. "I guess when you put it that way, how can I say no?"

Matt smirks as he lowers his mouth towards yours, hand slipping into your hair so that you are angled perfectly beneath him. "Seal it with a kiss?”

“Absol–”

His lips are on yours before you’re done speaking the word.

[avocado-writing]

crawling in as per your bg3 request..

astarion with a tav/reader that’s just constantly cold, like shivering a little bit all the time and their hands & feet are just. ice cold

rating: T

pairing: astarion x reader

“Good gods, you’re freezing!” Astarion complains as his hand accidentally brushes yours before it jolts back in shock. You groan. 

“I know.”

“Even more than me, and I’m practically a corpse.”

“Yes, thank you, Astarion,” you mutter through your gritted jaw. You’re having to clench your teeth together in order to prevent them from chattering, although unfortunately you’re having little success. As if in apology your paramour shifts in his cocoon of an embrace around you, bringing you against him tighter.

This is a new level of cold, even for you.

You always run on the chilly side. You can often be found scooted up close to the fire when you make camp, or tucked in the corner of your tent with extra blankets on top of your bedroll. It’s always been bearable, a bit funny, even - something to joke about with your travelling party - but that was until you got to the Shadow Lands. 

You haven’t been able to feel your fingers or toes for days. It’s torture. The sun doesn’t shine in this place so of course there’s no warmth. You can get a good night of sleep at Last Light Inn where Isobel’s magic keeps it at bay, but on the road? Well, there’s no hope. You’re reduced to a shivering wreck. 

Though Astarion complains, he has been trying to help you where he can. Right now he’s holding you in his arms, attempting to warm you up with his nonexistent body heat. Acting as if the pair of you are just normal lovers and not two weirdos thrown together by fate while attempting to stop a mindflayer invasion. 

A scant few weeks ago he’d have been offering to warm you up in a rather more physical way; with him buried inside of you, lips ghosting your neck, hands on whatever willing flesh he could find. But your relationship has changed, now. Evolved. Become something more, something solid and real. He’s not so eager to dive beneath the covers - at least like that - and you wouldn’t ask him to. You’ll give him all the time he needs. 

It’s nice, what’s happening between the two of you. But at the moment you’re turning every cuddle into a mass of shivering limbs. 

Astarion sighs again. But then he speaks and it’s gentle. 

“You know, you could ask Karlach to come and act as your hot water bottle. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. Or maybe that druid, Halsin - he’s been looking at you like he wouldn’t mind cuddling up…”

Though he tries to joke you can tell there’s an undercurrent of self-doubt in there. You harrumph and settle deeper into his arms, opting for a simple retort:

“I don’t want them, I want you.”

You feel him still against you at that unexpected flash of affection. Process it. Then he slowly extricates himself from your grasp. 

A little whine slips from your throat and he pats the top of your head. 

“Now, now. Stay put, pet, and I’ll be right back.”

You grumble but do as you’re bid. He steps out of your tent and you have no choice but to remain as a frozen little ball, foetus-curled and chilled to the bone. It’s a relief when he returns with more blankets and a pot of tea, likely brewed over the fire pit outside. 

“Where did you get—?” you begin to ask, as he tucks the extra bedding around you.

“Well, Gale is fast asleep, he won’t notice he’s missing them until the morning,” Astarion reasons. You laugh, not sure if he’s joking or not, but not really wanting to know the truth - you’re holding onto this even if it was pilfered off the camp’s resident wizard. 

You watch as Astarion pours you both a cup from the little metal teapot. Steam rises soothingly from it, warming up the tent interior. It makes sense he has one for you, of course, but…

“I thought you didn’t like drinking tea,” you say. What you mean is, I thought you didn’t like drinking anything that wasn’t blood. 

“I don’t,” Astarion sighs, but brings the cup to his lips and chugs it down anyway. It must be far too hot to be comfortable, and you’re about to ask what he’s doing - but then he reaches out to untangle your hands from where you have them vice-gripping the edges of your blankets. He folds them in his own, softly and sweetly, then brings them to his mouth where he breathes out a long, slow stream of tea-warmed breath into your palms. 

“Oh, Astarion…” you whisper, finally able to feel your fingers for the first time in days. You feel him smile against your hands. 

“Mmm, I wouldn’t get used to it,” he tells you in a way which suggests he wouldn’t really mind you getting used to it at all. 

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget

[smolvenger]

Hot for Teacher (Professor! Tom Hiddleston x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: After being private about your relationship, your professor boyfriend, Tom Hiddleston, introduces you to his students.

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Some thirsty comments and cursing, but no smut. Established relationship and lots of fluffy moments. Grammar and spelling mistakes that slipped past me. Reader not being a student and being an Adult Adult (tm). A big fancy ball because I decided not some hum drum party was gonna do. (I'm the writer, I can do what I want). I rip off YouTube comments and Ana Huang and stuff I see on Tiktok and Instagram.

A/N: For @holdmytesseract's request! I am sorry this took a while due to stuff happening, but here it is!!!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

You always visited the campus coffee shop on Mondays at 10 am to overhear students being thirsty for your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at their comments. They were leaving their English Literature Survey class. Only they weren’t discussing books.  

“Sooo nice of him to lower the word count for the essay, he knows it’s a lot.”

“Holy crap, did you see how tight his shirt was today? I could practically see his titties.”

“He needs to quote Shakespeare again. I think I’m developing a kink.”

“If I caught my girl in bed with Professor Hiddleston, I’d tuck him in.”

“If I was at the club and Professor Hiddleston was hitting on my girl, I’d start to cry…because he didn’t choose me.”

“I’m a hardcore lesbian, but Professor Hiddleston is on my cheat card.”

“I’m a hardcore asexual, but Professor Hiddleston is so hot that if I had to get pregnant I’d want him to do the honors.”

You sipped up your drink, sitting in a far corner. Smiling bright as you heard them. Stifling a laugh so hard you could feel your drink always threatened to snort out of your nose. You would cup your face, ensuring they didn’t take note of you. Even get out the notes app on your phone to type them down. Not that you’d ever show him. 

He was their hot Professor. But to you, he was just Tom.

Just Tom. A boyfriend who cared for you respected you, and listened to you. Who did the bare minimum and so much more. They didn’t know his flaws, living with each other's smells and body odors and functions and insecurities. And the little, beautiful moments that made you all the more in love with him. How you would both go to bookstores and geek out after certain works, make a mess in the kitchen trying a new recipe, or stay in your pajamas until 1 pm watching something on the TV. Did they know how loud he snored at night? Or how sensitive his neck was? Or that he was fidgety if he sat too long? 

Then one of them said “His girlfriend is one lucky ass bitch. I wonder what she’s like?”

“Oh…he hasn’t said anything about a girlfriend, do you think…he’s single?!” one asked.

They all shot up like meerkats with big smiles.

You froze, only staring quietly at your drink. 

Tom didn’t talk about you in class. Nothing. Nada. Goose eggs.  They didn't know you existed.

So far you were sure they were not little homewreckers- not successfully, at least. You trusted Tom and he trusted you and his students respected his boundaries. But he blocked them on social media so they wouldn’t dig anything about him. Tom was a private person and he wanted that to be respected by his students. 

When you both met to hang out and make dinner later that evening- his special Spaghetti bolognese recipe, he gave you a hug and kiss on your head.

“Oh, you missed a spot!” you teased.

His eyes crinkled beneath his glasses.

“Oh- uh,” he voiced out.

You dived in to kiss him on the lips, his beard scratching your chin.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Oh, just fine. Your students were…wondering about me today. I saw them at the shop.”

“They didn’t recognize you?”

“No- they don’t know what I look like. Or about me, period…we’ve kept it that way…”

Both of you got into the kitchen, rolling up your sleeves and preparing the pasta and sauce. It smelled of garlic, onion, and olive oil, making your stomach rumble. How easily smelling that in a kitchen could solve all of your problems!

He smiled at you. Then, as the pasta was set to boil in the pot, he turned to you. His sleeves rolled up (making you giddy inside) and his face was a little flushed from the heat of the steam from cooking.

“My angel, I don’t want to keep you in hiding- and you shouldn’t.”

“Tom, what do you mean?” you asked. You stirred the sauce, then tapped the spoon and set it on a jar for attempted cleanliness.

 I love you. And this is a part of my life…would you like to meet them? I promise you, they won’t hurt you. I won’t let them!” 

He went up to hug you from behind and you watched the simmering food.

You paused, taking in a breath. What were you afraid of? Were you ashamed of Tom or being with him? No, not a bit.

 You turned around to face him.

“They’re college kids. They’re basically puppies…I think I’d like to meet them.” you agreed

--:::------::------------------->◇<--------------------::------:::---

You both decided what event it should be that you would meet them. There were events called Bookish Balls that were all the rage now. It was a prom for adults. Proms where everyone dressed like fantasy characters and showed off costumes and even cosplays. It was everything from complex armor to a dress with some elf ears on. 

You knew he had a Shakespearean-era outfit from a play he did that he kept you just had to find the right look. It would be more exciting and less creepy then if you jumped on them at the mall like a pair of stalkers. 

And the ball looked like fun.

You and Tom both arrived. He was in his Shakespearean garb and crown. You had your own outfit- you adored it. You couldn’t help but look at each large mirror you walked by as you walked down the dim hallways with carpeted floors.

All the students were talking about it- tickets were 60 percent off for students. Since they were all raving about these hot new fantasy books between their required reading of Dickens. They all rattled their iced coffees like maracas and gossiped and shared pics of their outfits on their phones every day before class according to Tom. Most of them would all be there.

Little did they know their Professor was going to be there, as well as his girlfriend.

You both arrived at the fine, fancy hotel. Tom was dressed in his leather doublet and pants with a large cape and a grand crown. Ever the king. You had splurged on the fancy outfit you wanted badly- and you felt as if you were a heroine in a story as you walked through.

“You look stunning- they’re going to adore you,” Tom assured you.

You hoped so. If they met you and humiliated you in some way tonight or after, you would move to Antarctica and learn to speak penguin. 

Taking his arm and feeling like royalty, you both went down the fine large building. You saw people gathered. There were some stage lights and the large gala room had trees with flowers everywhere as well as thrones, little game booths photo booths, and a banquet. And, of course, a packed dance floor. A live band played. Many people wore crowns and wings and elf ears and were dancing away with zeal. Women twirled their ballgown skirts with smiles so big it lit them up. Many flicked their capes dramatically or wrapped around them like blankets. There were fairy lights and glitter everywhere and there were photo ops and even a costume contest. It was in full sway.

 Including a crowd that included Tom’s students. They jumped up in time to the song, breathlessly singing along to every word.

Tom held out your hand, both of you feeling like the king and queen looking over their jubilant subjects. You both walked down. Hoping your outfit looked as nice on you as you hoped it would.

The song was entering its last chorus. The student's backs were turned and their capes and wings were bouncing as they danced. They hadn’t noticed you yet.

He went to his group of students and cleared his throat. At once they turned their heads.

They looked at him and then you and their jaws dropped.

Tom said.“hello, here is  Y/N, my beautiful, amazing girlfriend.” He then leaned you in and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

All of their eyes bugged out of their skulls and jaws dropped like broken nutcrackers among them.

You were worried the girls in the group would glare at you like they were going to rip out your stomach intestines.

But instead, all of them collapsed into a collective “AAaaaaawwwwwww, hello!” and “What?! WHAT?!” Their eyes flitted toward Tom in tight leather (who wouldn’t?) and you in your presence. 

You went up like in any social situation. You gave them a smile- warm, genuine, polite, and friendly.

“Hi there, it’s nice to meet you- I heard all about you guys!”

You shook their hands. You got to meet them and learn names- Kelly, Hailey, Jessie, Emily, Daniel, Isaiah, Chase, Cameron, Kat, Miranda, Edgar, and so many more your head spun. But you eventually got it with practice.

But they let you dance with them. Be relaxed and have fun. It moved from a band to a playlist of all the classic dance songs. The band blasted Single Ladies and the girls invited you, dragging you in. You tried to copy the moves from the music video, but couldn’t quite and they all burst into laughter anyway.

It then slowed down- it was a ballad, the Cody Fry song about falling in love being like a symphony.

“Well…could I have a dance with my lady?” Tom asked, holding out his hand.

They gasped and looked at you.

“Oh, what a gentleman! I’d be delighted!” you said, accepting his hand.

They let you and Tom have a slow dance- how handsome he looked in the light, beaming at you. They smiled as if they were watching a rom-com at the end. There were no angry glares- at most, some looked a little reflective and sad. But none dared interrupt the moment with you and Tom.

Would they hate you after seeing the affection?

If so, they shut their mouths and minded their beeswax about it.

There were loads of pictures- you were willing to take some (they were seeing you as the surrogate Adult Adult more than their adults) and they included you in some, including some selfies.

Tom excused himself and returned with even brought you a little plate of food. a plate full of little sandwiches, cheeses, and fruits. You both rested your feet and shared some, feeling their eyes on you. For dessert, there were some gooey brownies that melted in your mouth. Tom eagerly grabbed some, his large hands packing as many brownies as he could. 

But you realized his beard had streaks of chocolate brownies on it, you burst into laughter and you heard some giggling from the students too.

“Oh, let me take care of that!” you offered.

You got out a handkerchief and wiped it off of him. You definitely heard “awwwws” in the distance. Looking at it, his beard was now clean.

“There you go! But dashing as always!” you said.

He held your hand and kissed it. The “AWWWWWS” got louder in the back and you both had to suppress your laughter.

Rejoining the students, you saw them less as little judges or would-be homewreckers. You got to talk to them. Maybe you judged them harshly- you remembered being in college when you were that young too. Of course, they grumbled about the coursework sometimes and you gave your own insight. 

“Oh- you’re seriously reading Persuasion? Oh, just wait! Austen takes some time to get used to when you read her stuff- read them slowly and you will catch onto what’s happening! The yearning in that one is beautiful” you encouraged a distraught Hailey. 

You even discussed what fantasy books they were into and got some more recommendations for your ever-growing TBR. And at the end, every last person in the crowd gathered and danced. You and Tom joined the students with big grins and aching feet, but you wouldn’t stop until that last song ended its phrase. No drama. No pettiness. And no hiding. No fear. Just people at a party. Young and happy and alive.

--:::------::------------------->◇<--------------------::------:::---

The other morning, you were back at the coffee shop. Waiting on them. Soon enough, they arrived in their band, though you remained in the corner. 

“I couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend!” Daniel gasped.

“Really?! I’m not! A man that fine can have his pick,” Kelly commented.

They began to all get iced coffees and gather around.

“She is gorgeous- didn’t you see her at that ball!? And she’s super nice!”

“Yeah…I want them to be happy and he seems so happy-”

“Oh, he is cheesing after her- you saw how he smiled?! And how he got the plate for her? Like, he’s a walking green flag!”

‘She’s so lucky!

“Listen, I am glad they’re happy…I just wish it were me…”

They all sighed and agreed,. You waited for that whole vibe of that phrase to blow away.

Then, quietly you walked over.

“Hello everyone,” you said.

They gasped and turned heads.

“YN! YN, hi!” one boy, what was his name- oh yes, Cameron!-said.

“Oh, I just wanted to pop by,” you added.

Then, Emily stood up. She got out a chair from one table and moved it over to where everyone sat .

“Do you have anywhere to be? You can…you can join us! You’re welcome to!”

You smiled at them and took a seat.

[valiantphantomangel]

The best Christmas ever.

"Reindeer Games!! the lights have to be at least six inches away from each other!" Tony shrieked as he nearly ran into Steve who was carrying in another christmas tree with Bucky.

The sixth christmas tree in the freaking living room!

"Calm down man of iron" Loki grumbled as he pulled the lights further apart with the help of Natasha.

"Do you not know how to hang ornaments"?! Iron man freaked as he turned the small ball a few degrees the other way "go you disgust me"! He yelled at Sam before chasing after him with his small note book.

"Yep he's definitely gone insane" Natasha said with a nod as she and Loki climbed down from the ceiling where the lights hang.

"I have to agree with Lady Natasha" Thor mused while he made sure the lights were secured tightly.

"Who even put him in charge?" Rogers asked as he pushed the christmas tree upright.

"you did Cap" Clint said with a laugh from the vents where he was keeping watch so you wouldn't walk in on them decorating yet.

"...Right"

just then Peter literally fell from the ceiling with a shriek leaving Loki to catch him and put him back on his feet "Y/N is in the elevator to this floor"!!

Since it was a surprise that they were decorating the tower to give you the best Christmas ever, Loki quickly cast a spell to make all the decorations go invisible and they all dived into a hiding spot.

Somehow Sam managed to dive almost on top of Bucky who let out a groan and shoved him off "Damm it Samuel"!

Everyone shushed him and stayed hidden just as the elevator doors opened, you walked out with your headphones on listening to music and walked into the kitchen to grab some left over pizza.

"we need to distract her until we are done" Nat whispered to Loki as they sat crouched behind a couch.

"I'll distract her, you guys finish decorating" He whispered back with a grin, being the God of mischief and lies gave him quite the advantage on knowing your ticklish little secret and he was more then happy to finally use it.

Loki stood up and walked up behind you, tapping you on the shoulder and successfully making you jump in fright.

"Jesus Christ Loki! You scared the living daylights out of me" You said with a hand on your heart as you took off your headphones.

"My apologies, i simply wanted to ask if I could retrieve my book from your room?" He said hiding his grin.

"Yeah of course, I'll show you where it is" you said with a nod and walked off with your plate of pizza after kicking the fridge door shut.

Loki trailed behind you as you both stepped into your room, but before you could utter 'abracadabra' he tackled into your bed and pinned you underneath him.

"Loki what the hell" you said confused which quickly turned into a surprised giggle when he traced your ribs.

"Sorry for the scare darling, it's just that I heard some interesting information about you" He said with a mischief smirk as he continued to trace your ribs and tummy.

"And what would that behihihi?" you giggle nervously.

"Sargeant Barnes told me about your little ticklish secret" Loki mused as he ghost tickled your tummy which sent chills all over since you were incredibly sensitive.

Your eyes widen before bursting out in giggles as you trashed around, he dug into your ribs and softly traced your tummy at the same time, driving you into madness.

"NOT THEREHIHIHIHIHI" you screamed in laughter as you arched your back to escape him which only gave him more access to your sides.

"Then I'll just switch places love" Loki grinned as he scratched lightly over your neck before suddenly blowing a raspberry on your tummy.

"GHAHHAHAHHAHA" you laughed loudly until your laugh turned silent and he let up, pulling you up to lay your head on his chest.

"Shall we watch some movies for the rest of the afternoon love?" He asked as he played with your hair.

You hummed in agreement as you settled against him, curling up content.

And that's how the afternoon went, every time you tried to get up to grab something from the kitchen Loki latched onto your sides and reduced you into a giggly mess to keep you in your room.

When it got dark Steve and Tony walked in, smiling when they saw you two.

"Come on kid, we have a surprise" Tony said as he pulled you to your feet and guided you out of the room with his hands over your eyes, the other two quickly following to make sure you didn't fall.

After an interesting walk downstairs (Tony almost walked you straight into a wall and got his head smacked for it) you arrived in what you believed was the living room.

Tony took his hands from your eyes and you gasped.

The entire room was full with lights of all colours and in every corner stood a christmas tree, which was decorated to perfection with presents underneath it, you looked up and saw even more fairy lights around the ceiling. It was absolutely stunning.

A smile made its way to your lips as happy tears gathered in your eyes, you felt a pair of arms around you and soon you were engulfed by the team.

"You guys did all this?" You asked as you wiped your tears away.

"Of course we did, we wanted to make this your best ever christmas" Nat smiled as she threw her arm around your shoulders.

"Why?"

"Because we wanted to make you feel at home, loved and happy, we knew how much christmas means to you" Clint said as he appeared next to you.

"Well you guys certainly made that happen" you chuckle as you still looked around in wonder.

"Merry Christmas Y/N" Bucky said with a soft smile.

"Merry Christmas, you guys are the best family I could've asked for" You smiled brightly and you were once again engulfed by the team.

It was safe to say that this was the BEST christmas ever!!

[whyareyouhere66]

Call Me A Snitch - Benny Rodriguez/The Sandlot x GN Reader

“Could it be something like benny rodriguez x gn!reader and its they are on philips team and playing against the sandlot boys and the philips convinces the reader to cheat by using like this sticky rosin stuff…”

Here we go @yourgirljen4life - hope you enjoy and I hope this is what you were looking for 

[mind you I don’t know a lot about rosin or anything- also Phillips doesn’t have a listed full name, so I used the actors first name.]

CW: slightly rushed I haven’t written in a hot minute, not heavy on any relationships, Wil Phillips

Benny Rodriguez x GN!Tiger’s player Reader

x

It’s the middle of the day, sun hot and sticky beating down on the trees and dirt that cover the ground, temperature at least 80 degrees, when I realize I should’ve stayed home.

I used to say I’d never miss a good game of baseball, especially not with someone as invested as Benny Rodriguez or Wil Phillips. But then again, I’ve never played such an un-fun one in my life. Which is actually pretty impressive.

The ball swings across the field as Benny’s team hits it spot on again, and I see as our outfielder scurries to get it. I can’t remember who’s out there, probably Eric. Guess that wasn’t a great idea. Bertram, looking accomplished, smoothly jogs across the base. 

They’re getting real cocky, now. It’s funny, I think, I’d crack a grin when I hear Ham’s next remark but with the vein nearly popping out of Phillips’ forehead I decide to bite it back. 

“How are we doing so shit?” I hear him ask, but I don’t think he wants a real answer. The expensive jerseys can only cover so much, an idea he seems very much unaware of.

I look down at my wrinkled jersey, the white fabric tinted with dirt after I took a dive for home base in the last inning. I dust some of it off, hearing another crack of the wooden bat across the way. To follow, a curse mumbled from Phillips lips. 

I sigh slightly, and glance back at the score board. We’re down by 2, which isn’t horrible, but I know we’d all prefer not being down at all. My cleats scuff against the sand as I stand up from our bench, and stand next to the blonde boy. His gaze is strong and fixed on the new batter, Benny. 

‘Oh boy.’ 

Droplets of sweat trickle down his forehead, over his nose, and he stares intently at our pitcher. He’s in jeans in a t-shirt, to no one’s surprise, and I look over him as he gets into position. His eyes narrow, blocking the sun the best they can. 

From the dugout, I watch with crossed arms. I still remember the first game against the sandlot boys- when Phillips tried to stand off on their own field. I think that’s when I first realized, baseball would be a lot more fun if there weren’t the pressure of winning constantly on my shoulders. 

He’s so focused, swaying the bat over his shoulder and adjusting his feet across home base. Beside me, Phillips’ scoffs, I can basically hear how his teeth clench in his jaw.

Benny hits it mere feet away from the fence, our outfielder sprinting for it and suddenly Phillips’ hand grabs a firm hold on my shoulder, snatching my thoughts from the game.

“This is bullshit,” he complains, and uses the grip on my shoulder to turn me towards the bench behind us, “come on.”

My arms remain crossed even as he tugs me towards his bag, and he leans down to grab something from inside. Red flag, I think, he’s up to something.

“You’re up next,” when he comes back up, he’s holding a small tub in his hand, “use this.” 

I look down at the tub in his hands, and skim over the word “Rosin” bolded on the lid. 

He’s gotta be kidding.

I glance up at him, he’s looking at me expectantly, as if I’m supposed to immediately understand. When I don’t enthusiastically go along with it, he rattles his hand impatiently.

“No.” I tell him, and he groans.

“Y/n come on-“ he whines, “we’ve gotta get a leg up.”

“This is pathetic, Phillips.”

He groans again, dramatically throwing his head back, and I feel his fingers tightening against the bone of my shoulder. 

“Dude- it’s not a big deal, just do it so we don’t lose against these…” he looks back to the field, where Benny has already made it to 2nd base and players from our team and his are spread across the dirt and grass. Ham chuckles smugly, rolling up to base, and immediately just from one look at the field Phillips’ face scrunches into one of disgust. 

“…losers.”

He finishes, I scoff.

“Dude.”

He doesn’t listen to my protest at all, instead shoving the tub of rosin into my hand. Tan fingers slip away from my shoulder, finally, and he reaches back into his bag and pulls out another baseball, placing it into my free hand. 

“Do it, or I swear to god L/n.”  He looks at me like he’s giving a threat, which he is, but it’s not a strong one. I sigh, and he steps away from me back to the edge of the dugout to watch the game. I’m left alone by the cluttered bench.

Looking down at the ball and the tub, I sigh once more. But nonetheless, I unscrew the tub. 

It’s a bad idea, pathetic as I said, I should’ve known the second we went down a point Phillips would resort to a cheat. 

.

But hey, it worked. 

My fingers are still sticky with rosin as the game ends- the scoreboard has changed, now in our favor with 3 points above the sandlot group. 

Curses echo from them as ham kicks the dirt below his feet, and I watch as Benny throws his hat to the ground in a fit. It clashes well with the smug cheers from my team- but at the sight of the others so defeated, I feel guilty.

“Told you.” Phillips’ smirks into my ear, patting my shoulder much harder than needed before strutting off with the rest of the team. I dont join him, though.

It wasn’t our win to get. 

“Some pop and fries at the diner sound good to you guys?” Phillips asks, raising his voice knowing the sandlot boys will hear him across the dugout. Of course he needs to rub it in, sometimes i think he’s a better actor than he is a baseball player.

As my team saunters off, I listen in on the grumbles from Benny’s team.

“Damn tigers…” ham mumbles, glaring at the ground. 

“Yeah yeah- we had ‘em in the first half too. Like, what the hell?”

With all the mumbling, Benny shakes his head with a glare. I can tell by the clench of his fist he’s frustrated, he turns around to his friends.

“Just shut up about it guys- we lost, it’s whatever.” His voice contradicts him easily, but it quiets his friends grumbling a fair amount. He spins back around, about to match off to their dugout, and last second my mouth opens.

“Wait!”

They all turn around, faces still dark as ever when they see me approaching them, trying to catch up with a light jog. I don’t know why I’m doing this, I’ve never been much more than acquaintances with them, but it’s obvious they’re better friends than my team will ever get to be. Maybe that’s what motivates me to continue.

“Hold on, it’s,” I pause, breathing out and coming to a stop right in front of them, “hold on.”

“What do you want?” Squints obnoxiously adjusts his glasses at me. The only ones not glaring me down seem to be Smalls and the twins. Though, when i catch Benny’s eyes again there isn’t any anger directed at me behind his gaze. 

“I,” I glance behind me, my team is gone, and I turn back with a hesitant look, “you didn’t lose.”

This seems to confuse them, Bertram scoffs.

“Right, funny.” He says bitterly.

“Yeah yeah, hilarious.” Yeah yeah pipes up, but Squints holds up a finger to both of them, staring at me with vague interest.

Benny is lost, closing his eyes in thought. 

“What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t technically lose,” I rephrase, “not legally, I mean.”

When they’re about to question me further, I look down at my hand and squeeze my fingers, the rosin sticking to my skin. They catch on quickly, by the time I look back up squints has already marched over to me.

“What’s this?” He questions, grabbing my hand and examining the skin. I awkwardly watch on as he recognizes the sticky shit on my hand, glaring at me in disbelief. Spinning around to the others, he grabs my wrist.

“They used sticky rosin!” He exclaims, holding up my hand for the others like a clue. His friend’s eyes widen, and I take my hand back to quickly explain.

“They cheated?” Smalls let the question sit in the air, because no one really answered him.

“It was Phillips’ idea,” none of them are surprised, as Benny mutters with rolling eyes, “he got pressed when you started winning, he’d kept some in his bag.” 

Groans rumble from the group, I notice as Benny pulls off his hat once more, leaving his sweaty hair to the breeze. 

“I mean- are we surprised?” His voice is thick in sarcasm, standing out over the grumbles from Ham and Yeah Yeah.

“No- of course that blonde Bambi would cheat, pussy move.” Bertram curses, and despite their glares I feel a grin form at the words “blonde Bambi.”

“Sorry- I should’ve told him to quit, but…”

The hot sun is baking my skin, the baseball cap sitting on my head only giving so much. 

“So why didn’t you?” Ham quips- I almost bite my tongue, but Benny whacks him with his hat. 

“Shut up,” he clicks his tongue, before his gaze returns to me, and I’m not really sure what to do with it. “Thanks for uh- for telling us.” He gives the slightest hint at a smile, his teeth sticking through his lips. I smile back at him, the guilt from before falling further into the back of my mind. 

“Yeah- I mean,” I dip my head, “you guys were having a lot more fun out there than I’ve had in a minute.”

Smalls furrows his eyebrows. “Then you should play with us!”

Everyone turns to look at him.

I’m surprised by his offer, though not at the many, many quips thrown his way afterwards. I’ve never thought about it, never having been invited before, but now that the idea is fresh in front of me I consider it.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Benny jumps in- and that’s what really surprises me. 

“For real?” I ask, and Benny steps forward, blocking off the rest of the boys from giving their loud input. Face to face, I finally notice more of his grin. 

“Yeah- might be fun, plus, would drive Phillips crazy.” 

I grin. 

He holds out a hand to me, and I have to remember to switch to the not sticky one to return the gesture.

“We’ll play tomorrow- the sandlot at noon. If you’re in, join us.”

His hold is firm, yet his hands are softer than I think I expected.  Despite the blisters that cross his palm, his touch is warm. I look up at him through the shade of my hat. For a second, he looks hopeful. And after a moment of thinking, pushing away the migraine for Phillips to face the second he finds out, I nod.

“I’ll be there.”

He’s the last the leave as the others walk away, Smalls walking by his side at the back of the group as Benny throws me one last shiny grin.

Not as uninteresting as I thought it would be anymore- I walk home with the Tiger’s jersey now in lost value on my shoulders. 

[choke-me-joey]

Hello! 32 with Eddie please. Thank you!

I hope I did this justice!!!

32. Guess I'll just have to do it myself

Eddie Munson x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, unprotected p in v, Eddie is a lil mean but nothing we can't handle, overstimulation, daddy kink, squirting, creampie

Hoe-vember masterlist

"Aww, what's the matter baby? You tired?" Eddie shoots you a feral grin from beneath you, cock buried to the hilt inside your poor, abused and wrecked pussy. He thrusts his hips up and the head of his cock smacks into your cervix, making you let out a weak cry of mixed pain and pleasure. "I'm not done with you yet, princess, come on, put that pussy to work."

"Eddie..." You whine, your body threatening to keel over. "I can't, s'too much-"

"Babe, you know every time you say that I make it happen. Come on-" he smacks your already bright red ass cheek, adding to the handprint already blooming across your skin. "-ride Daddy's cock."

You mewl and pathetically attempt to rock your hips against his. You had been going for hours now, Eddie pulling orgasm after orgasm from you and you were pretty sure after the 8th one it was physically impossible for you to come anymore, but Eddie was insistent.

"8? Fucking 8?! We've definitely gotten at least 9 out of you before princess, come on, let's go for 10, huh?" he'd goaded before diving face first back into your pussy and within minutes sending you hurling into your 9th orgasm, which almost made you pass out. He'd then plopped you in his lap and slid inside you again, making himself comfy on the pillows as he watched you writhe and whimper on top of him. "Come on, baby, let's get that number 10, okay?"

Now your body was pretty much shutting down on you; you had never been so exhausted. Your ass was sore, you were drenched in sweat and your body was aching from being folded into this position and that position by your boyfriend who had the stamina of the fucking Energizer bunny, apparently.

"Eds, please," you beg, your eyes brimming with tears as his thumb comes up to rub your poor overworked clit. He seems to take pity on you.

"Alright baby. Guess I'll just have to do it myself."

You let out a yelp of suprise as suddenly Eddie practically throws you off of him, face down ass up on the mattress. He doesn't give you a minute to fucking breathe before he's slamming into you once more, fucking you at a bruising pace. You scream, gripping at the stained sheets as every thrust of his thick, perfect cock nudges your g-spot and you can feel the tell tale signs of another orgasm approaching especially as he reaches under you to rub at your clit quickly, wanting you to get there before he unloads in you. Poor boy's balls must surely be aching by now.

"EDDIE!" You scream, your eyes rolling back in your skull as you cum, clear streams of fluid soaking your thighs and the sheets before you gracefully collapse on them, your entire body convulsing and trembling.

"Fuck yeah! That's 10, baby!" Eddie whoops behind you, fucking you through the aftershocks. "Getting close, princess, you gonna let me fill this poor pussy up, hmm?"

"Gimme your cum, Eds," you whimper, barely able to stay awake but also desperate to feel your boyfriend cum inside you. Eddie grunts and thrusts one, two, three more times before he stills inside you. His cock flexes and twitches as you feel the warmth of his seed flood you. You mewl contentedly, making your pussy clench weakly around him.

"Fuuuuck, Jesus, you keep doing that babe and you're gonna get me hard again." Eddie chuckles breathlessly, pulling out and admiring the milky white fluid as it trickles out of your hole. "Shit, I gotta get a picture of that one day."

You swat at him and he laughs. He quickly runs to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth, darting back to clean you up as gently as he possibly could. Then, ever the sweetheart, he rolls you so he can remove the soiled bedsheets and then dresses you in one of his old Sabbath shirts and some boxers. "Come on princess, let's get you into bed. You did so, so good for me."

With a bit of awkward manoeuvring, Eddie gets you tucked up into bed, lying next to you with his arms wrapped around you. He plays with your hair as your eyes droop with sleep.

"...Next time, we're going for 11."

[badcaseofcasey]

Steddie Soulmate/Met as Kids AU - Part 5 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

a/n: there should only be one more part (of Steve's pov, at least), so we're almost to the end! I promise they will actually interact in the next installment, lol. Thanks for sticking with me, hope you enjoy it!

Usually, it was pretty easy for Steve to get by without showing off his words. The only ones who really saw them these days were the few girls he actually ended up hooking up with, which Robin would tell you were pretty few and far between.

But he’d rather deal with the potential awkwardness of having Eddie see his words for the first time than try to swim to the bottom of Lover’s Lake with his sweatshirt dragging him down.

He tried to do it as quickly as possible, but he certainly didn’t miss the glance Eddie threw his way as he caught the yellow sweatshirt. Steve’s entire body had been buzzing with that once-familiar electricity since Eddie had thrown him up against the wall in the boathouse. It was easier to dive into the murky waters, even knowing what he might find down there, than stay on the boat and deal with the weight of Eddie’s eyes on him.

From that point on, there was very little time to think of anything but the plan. Looking back on it, he would blame ranting about six kids and a winnebago on the blood loss, coupled with being so close to his soulmate for the first time in years. Between that and being in the Upside Down, his brain felt like a ball of mush. Even when he and Eddie had actually spoken for the first time since they were kids, it just ended with Eddie encouraging him to go after Nancy and left Steve more confused than ever.

When it came time to split up, Steve couldn’t help but worry. The idea of Eddie or Dustin getting hurt was almost too much to think about. The plan kept them as far away from harm as physically possible, but even still, he felt a pit in his stomach. There was something in Eddie’s eyes as he got ready to leave that made him pause, but against his better judgment, he’d stuck to the plan.

He had told Eddie specifically - don’t be the hero. So why was he now sitting in a hospital room watching his soulmate breathe through a ventilator?

Eddie and Max had both been in the hospital when they went after Vecna for what was actually the last time. Steve made it through their last battle on pure adrenaline, really. Any time he’d stopped for more than a second, all he could see was Dustin clinging to Eddie’s lifeless body, reliving the few minutes where he thought he had lost his soulmate before he’d even gotten to have him.

Now that the gates were all closed and Vecna was gone (El had made absolutely sure this time), Steve allowed himself to slow down for the first time in weeks. He’d spent every day since then (after a quick shower and a night spent in his own bed, at Robin and Joyce’s insistence) at the hospital, either in Max’s room or Eddie’s.

It was hard to explain to the others why Steve was spending so much time at Eddie’s bedside. He could tell they were curious, but luckily, they held themselves back from actually asking. Other than Dustin, Steve was the one to have spent the most time in Eddie’s room. Eventually, Dustin had to start going back to school, despite the cracks in the ground all over Hawkins. So Steve was now the one to keep vigil at Eddie’s bedside, eating food from the hospital cafeteria or brought in by Joyce and showering in the attached bedroom (one of the perks of being a wanted fugitive with a shady government organization working on clearing your name was a private room).

Robin came to sit with Steve whenever she had the spare time. She was still working at Family Video, which had somehow miraculously survived the “earthquake,” so she could only come between shifts, and dates with Vickie.

One day, she finally got up the courage to ask, “Steve? …Why Eddie?”

Steve looked up from where he had been reading aloud from The Hobbit (one of Dustin’s conditions of going back to school was that Steve picked up where he left off). “What do you mean?”

“I mean, Max’s room is right down the hall,” Robin clarified. “I know she has her mom, El, and Lucas, but you could be down there, too. I didn’t even think you liked Eddie, and now you’re here all the time. I guess, I’m just wondering… why?”

“Honestly, Robs,” Steve sighed, putting the bookmark in and shutting the book. “I’m impressed you made it this long without asking.”

Robin nudged him lightly with her shoulder. “You should be proud. But you’re not getting out of answering the question.”

Steve paused, considering. “You know how I told you that I didn’t remember getting my words?”

Robin nodded. The night that Steve and Robin had ended up drugged in the Starcourt bathroom, Robin had confessed that she’d gotten her words earlier that year, from Vickie of all people. Steve had managed not to tell her his own story - but only barely.

“I lied,” Steve admitted. “I got them when I was eight. I was at the playground and this kid came up, wanting to fight dragons with me. We played together all afternoon and I had the most fun I can ever remember having, to be honest.”

Robin’s eyebrows had shot up as soon as Steve started talking. “What happened to the kid?”

“I never saw him again - or well, I didn’t for a while,” Steve said. “He was in town… visiting his uncle.”

Steve let his eyes slide over to Eddie’s face, dark hair fanned out against the white hospital pillowcase.

Robin gasped lightly. “Oh, Steve.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, feeling his throat tighten up. “I didn’t see him again until high school and by then, I’d already fallen in with the popular crowd and I was so scared at what it would mean for me to give that all up for - well, for someone I really hardly knew.”

Steve turned back to face Robin and saw her eyes were wet. Steve knew his were as well.

“I ignored him, Rob,” Steve confessed. “I knew he was my soulmate, but I decided that popularity and making people like me was more important. And now-“

“Hey,” Robin cut him off, wrapping her arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Now nothing. The doctors are saying he’s going to make it. Now, you get a second chance.”

Steve’s shoulders shook as he finally let himself cry for the first time since seeing Eddie bleeding in the Upside Down. All of the hurt and pain and guilt he’d felt at not being able to protect his soulmate came flowing out of him at once. Robin, for her part, just held him, even though Steve knew that people crying made her uncomfortable.

After a while, his sobs quieted and he was able to pull his face away from Robin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I should’ve, that night at Starcourt.”

“Hey, if you should be sorry for anything, it’s getting snot all over my favorite sweater, dingus.”

Steve laughed and rested his head on her shoulder, eyes back on Eddie.

“I almost lost him, Rob.”

“Well,” she said. “Make sure you don’t, this time around.”

Part 6

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[floridaboiler]

What a Young Man Should Know, 1933. A checklist for becoming a proper man.

This was published in the March 1933 issue of Harper’s Magazine.

The writer, Robert Littell, details the abilities, skills, accomplishments, and extra-curricular proficiencies that every man should have if they are to become a self-sufficient and well-rounded human being, ready for life, and eventually, marriage and raising their own children. The learning starts from a very young age.

Here is the (short) list:

1. He should know how to swim at least a mile, dive creditably, and not feel panicky under water. He should be able also to revive those less skilful than himself by rolling them on a barrel and pumping their helpless arms.

2. He should be able to drive an automobile well. And he should not be altogether helpless when a car breaks down. He must know how to change a tire and offer some sort of diagnosis when the engine sputters and dies.

3. He ought to know how to clean, load, and shoot a revolver or a rifle.

4. As for self-defense, a man should certainly be able to take care of himself in a scrap. He need not learn jujitsu — old-fashioned boxing will be enough.

5. He ought to know the rudiments of camping, how to build a fire, how to chop wood, how to take a cinder out of his eye, how to deal with a severed artery, how to doctor himself for ordinary ailments.

6. He should also be able to take care of other people in emergencies, to apply first aid, set a broken bone, revive a drunk or a victim of gas, deal with a fainting fit, administer the right emetic or antidote for a case of poisoning.

7. And he should be able to feed himself, to cook, not only because some day he may need to, but because cooking is one of the fine arts, and a source of infinite pleasure. He should be able to scramble eggs, brew coffee, broil a steak, dress a salad, carve a chicken, and produce, on occasion, one first-class dish, such as onion soup. The more he can do, in these days of the delicatessen store and the kitchenette, the better. It is not effeminate, it is not beyond him, and the best chefs are all men.

8. He should know how to use paint brushes, a saw, a hammer, and other common tools.

9. He should also have a beautiful and distinguished handwriting. But the bulk of his writing, particularly if he is a professional man who has much of it to do, should be done on a typewriter, capable of turning out three thousand words an hour.

10. He should play one outdoor game well, and have a workable smattering of several more. An American who cannot throw and catch a ball seems pathetic and grotesque.

11. The bicycle has gone, yet every young man should know how to ride one.

12. He should also be able to skate, sail a boat, and handle a canoe passably.

13. Fishing is a specialty, like chess.

14. Walking is a noble but neglected sport. Americans “hike” once in a long while but seldom walk.

15. He should know a great deal about animals and how to take care of them.

16. He should know how to ride a horse.

17. He should learn how to stay in a saddle with pleasure to himself and a minimum of annoyance to his mount.

18. He should learn how to dance.

19. He should know to play at least one card game.

20. He must have knowledge of how to tip naturally, justly, without fear and without reproach.

21. On the matter of alcohol, he should learn his capacity and stick within its limits; he should know something about the different kinds of drink, and which drinks produce chaos within him when mixed.

22. Where s:x is concerned, nature clearly intended us to make many mistakes in her hope that some of them would be productive.

23. He should know the rudiments of gambling. But gambling might be placed on the same plane as drink — the less use one has for it the better.

24. Higher than almost any other accomplishment on the list is knowing music. There is no reason why any young man who is not absolutely tone-deaf should not learn how to play one musical instrument well enough for it to be a self-resource and a tolerable pleasure to others.

25. A civilized man should know how to read. The ability to read, or rather the habit of reading, is very rare even among intelligent people, and has to be taught and kept up if it is not to become rusty.

26. He should have knowledge of at least one foreign language. French or German preferably both. German children learn an amazingly good brand of English without ever crossing their borders. Why can’t we? For one thing, we don’t really want to. Yet we should. An American who knows only English is blind in one eye.

27. He should know to travel well, efficiently, without fuss or complaint.

28. A young man should be able to express himself clearly before a crowd of strangers, without shyness, muddle, or a pathetic resort to “so much has been said and well said” or “I did not expect to be called on.”

29. The British adult can get to his feet, propose a toast, introduce a stranger, voice a civic protest, heckle a windbag politician, and give utterance to an unembarrassed thought.

30. A a man should command the elementary tool of written language, and be able to put simple things on paper in clear words.

31. He should have a good workable understanding of the structure of business, investments, and banks.

32. Let every educated man, as a necessary part of his education, be thrown into the muddy stream of American industry and see what it is like to swim alone on daily wages.

33. He should before reaching twenty-two have done something because he wanted to, whether other people wanted him to do it or not.

34. He should not acquire property unless he needs it. Insensitiveness to his personal property, unless of course it is extraordinarily beautiful, is a desirable skill for any man to have; It must be learned and worked at.

35. Unusual though this young man may be, he should not seem so. Is not a parent’s basic ambition for his child that he be very different from other people, yet manage to seem almost exactly like them?

[whxre-bxby]

Fanfiction further down! Scroll!

Recom Mansk x Recom f. Y/N 

Masterlist

"Greeting Death With A Smile"

Summary: Mansk is present on the boat for the last fight against Sully and Neytiri. He gets wounded and thinks he’s going to die alone. Luckily you find him in time, but you don’t know if it’s already too late.

WARNINGS: uhm TEARS, ANGST, Death, Blood, Violence tiniest bit of sad fluff, I’M BALLING MY EYES OUT WHILE WRITING THIS I THINK THAT SAYS ENOUGH

(Like, read at your own risk cuz I’m in pain I miss him sm)

Word Count: 4102

If u wanna feel even sadder i recommend you listen to (When it‘s cold I‘d like to die alone) it helped me cry my eyes out to the point that the tears burned my skin :)

Quaritch was giving instructions while, Lyle, Z-Dog, Prager, Mansk, and I stood close and listened. We were the only recom’s that I knew were alive. All the others had since been killed but since new things always kept happening, we couldn’t let our guard down and there was no time to mourn. 

I had to run past Ja who lay lifeless on deck and it made me feel sick. I felt the urge to at least pull his body somewhere else but I knew we didn’t have time. 

We had two of Jake’s kids hostage here with us and the Colonel was trying to get him to turn himself in for his daughters. 

I sighed, not knowing whether I would live to see another day. I wasn’t even sure why I was doing this or whether I thought it was right. But as a marine, you’re taught to listen to orders, even if you don’t agree with them. Listen and obey. That’s how you become a good soldier. And definitely never doubt your superior because they know what they’re doing. 

Deep down, I did doubt it though. Not just Quaritch’s plan but this whole mission. Our existence. It was all still a big mess to me. 

“Hold fire!” Quaritch orders as we watch him and Spider dive back into the water. 

“He’s comin’.” he added, turning to me and another human soldier. 

I pin my ears back and hold back a shiver from the cold. My clothes were wet but ignored the feeling and focused on holding my weapon ready. 

“Let’s get this guy.” Quaritch said like it were the easiest thing in the world. My ears perk up. I listen even though I doubt. Even though I don’t understand, I listen. 

“It’s what we came here for.” the Colonel keeps talking, looking at everyone around him. 

I notice how all of us are no longer fully with him. Prager and I exchange looks but with no expression because we are both in denial of our doubts and worries. Pretending they aren’t real. 

Even Lyle doesn’t nod along to his superior's words like he usually would. He would always back up everything Quaritch said but now he just stared at the ground, holding his gun and letting the Colonel’s words go in one ear and out the other.

Mansk looks at us and I can tell he has the same problem. We aren’t convinced but what option do we have? We’ve already done so much harm here. Once again. There’s no turning back because we’re marked down as the enemy for every single Na’vi on this planet. 

We aren’t wanted here so we must listen. 

To be completely honest, when I look at Quaritch one may think he knows what he’s doing. But I also occasionally catch a glimpse of doubt in his eyes. As if he weren’t sure why he would want to do this. Maybe he isn’t. I know damn well most of us hate the humans we used to be but we can’t do anything about it. 

He claps his hands together and his confident expression returns. He tells us to take our places and I look at the ground before going to cover my area of ground. 

We waited in silence for Sully to arrive and within the next few minutes, something exploded on the top deck. Prager and Z-Dog ran up the steps while I stayed on the lower deck with the rest of the team which is also where our hostages were. 

My ears flick in multiple directions as I hear screams and I see Neytiri land on her Ikran. Her presence here meant death to many. Perhaps it would be me too. 

Bodies start falling and I run over to pull a few soldiers out of the fire. Quaritch retreated to take cover close to where the two kids were while Lyle and Mansk continued to cover their ground. 

Someone shouted ‘Eyes up’ and I saw Jake and Neytiri land on the lower deck now. That meant they wiped out the entire top deck already.

I see Lyle and Mansk still standing and am about to go to them when I hear a scream of agony behind me. An injured soldier covered in flames. Without thinking, I run to him, pulling him away from the oil-covered metal pole and helping him put out the fire on his leg. He’s missing his other one. 

He lets his body fall back and sighs a little in relief, seeming to not feel the pain of his missing leg due to shock. I know he won’t make it through this. There is no one here to help. Everyone is trying to live. 

Quickly, I turn around and that’s when I see Lyle get pushed over the rail by Jake who turns in the opposite direction of me. Mansk is no longer in sight. 

I leave the wounded man behind because he passed out and I wouldn’t be able to help him anyway. I also just happened to care slightly more for Mansk and Lyle. 

I jog over to a large red metal pole, keeping my gun raised an looking around. Maybe a recom was injured and needed aid or perhaps I could spot either Jake or Neytiri and get at least one of them down. 

I press myself against the side of the column, looking over my shoulder at the rail which Lyle fell down. His body looked limp as it fell, making my gut wrench. Probably nothing I could save. 

Suddenly I hear a distant shout. 

“Y/N!” the voice of the Colonel echoes through the blood-stained walls of the ship. 

I flinch and just as I go to turn around, my knee is kicked in and I’m hit in the head with the base of a gun. 

I fall forwards and my body summersaults over a rail. My movements stop for a split second until my weight rolls to one side and suddenly I’m falling again. I land on the hard ground with a big thud which sends immense waves of pain through my body. 

In a state of shock, I look up at the hole I was pushed in but no one is standing there anymore. 

Slowly I get up, holding my side. I can’t move properly. I think I broke or at least cracked a rib. The lights in here are broken and since only a few work, it’s very dim. 

I look up and notice I’m not alone. 

Mansk couldn’t comprehend what happened fast enough. His heart dropped when Jake pointed the gun at him but luckily he ran out of ammo. In the next second, he lost his balance and hit his head on a metal pole next to him, falling over it. He saw Jake take his gun and launch it away before his upper body started tilting back. 

His upper body was resting over what seemed to be a dent in the ground but as he slowly turned in pain, he realised it went further down. Mansk felt as though he was slowly falling through the ground but he couldn’t prevent it because his eyes kept blacking out. He saw how he slowly fell into darkness and his feet lifted into the air, falling with him into the void.

The sound of gunshots and shouts was distant now and he lay at the bottom of the hole he didn’t see before. Light reflected inside from the fire above but it wasn’t strong enough to help him see. 

He groaned in pain, slowly lifting his injured body off the ground and pushing himself against a wall so that he was sitting upright. Mansk saw his shades on the ground next to him and noticed they were broken. 

He once made a joke that he would die with them when Lyle teased him about constantly wearing them. Maybe it was time. 

His head would drop in the direction the ship tilted as he lay limp against the cold metal. 

Mansk shouted for help, calling out the names of the people he thought might still be around but there was no answer. No one heard him.

His vision became blurry and when he looked down he saw his abdomen was covered in a small puddle of blood. Whether it was his he didn’t know. 

But he wasn’t afraid he would die. This is how he imagined it. He knew very well that one doesn’t mourn death in the military on Pandora. Mansk was ready to close his eyes for the last time and die alone, in peace. After all, it was his fate. Even though he hadn’t accomplished his mission, this is what always awaited him. 

He lost track of time and seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness every few minutes. What woke him up was a scream which came from right above him and a thud of a body which landed a few feet from Mansk. His eyes managed to open and he saw a blue figure. Blood pumped through his veins as the feeling of fear returned again but once he noticed the U.S uniform, he dropped his head back in relief. It wasn’t Jake or Neytiri. 

I whine out in agony as I straighten my posture and see Mansk sitting and leaning against a wall. My face brightens and for a second I forget about the pain. 

“Mansk!” I shout, leaning back down on all fours and hugging my waist while looking up at him. He lifts his head and his eyes widen when he sees me. 

“Y/N?” he asks, but his voice sounds weak. I smile, feeling relieved he’s alive and that I’m not alone. 

“Oh thank god, I thought everyone was-” I say, crawling over to him before my hand comes in contact with a small puddle of fluid. I want to shake if off my skin but when I glance down I notice its colour. It’s not water, it’s blood. And it’s not mine but his.

My heart sinks when my eyes move higher up Mansk’s body, noticing how his blood has drenched the clothes on his stomach. When I look up at him he’s gazing at me with half-lidded eyes. Just above them, a new trail of blood is forming and slowly drizzling down the side of his face. 

“Oh, Mansk…” I whisper, ignoring my own pain and kneeling next to him. His eyes follow me as I move around him and he looks weak and exhausted. I don’t think he can move much more than his head. 

“Where are you hurt?” I ask, gently lifting his arm to check whether the blood is coming from his side.

“I don’t know…” he whispers, barely moving his lips or jaw. His eyes occasionally close while I apply pressure to check where the pain is coming from.

I hear him hiss through clenched teeth and I gently return it to its previous position. “Sorry,” I whisper.

He breathes heavily through his nose, looking down at himself. I notice how the blood doesn’t seem to stop. 

“Come on, we need to get you back.” I softly say, lifting his arm over my shoulder. But I didn’t know how to get out of here, I was just hoping that the darkness would lead to a door which could lead us outside.

“No.” he breathes out and his body tenses. I freeze my movements and look at him. 

“You can’t stay here Mansk.” I say, trying to motivate him to see if he can get up. 

“I can’t move.” he whispers, biting down on his teeth as he tries to pull his arm from my shoulder. 

“Y/N, I can’t feel my legs…” His jaw trembles and his voice breaks a little. His words go straight to my heart, seeming to tear it in two.

I look away, furrowing my eyebrows together while I convince myself that there must be another way. Quickly, in hopes of helping him, I lean over his body and apply pressure on his big wound to try and stop the bleeding. 

I feel the corners of my eyes sting and my nose itch. The common sign that showed me I was about to tear up. 

Mansk sighed and when I looked up at him he was softly smiling at me. It wasn’t a happy smile, but an appreciative one. 

Mansk knew that what you were doing wouldn’t save him, but your attempt made him smile. Knowing you cared enough about him not to leave him behind warmed his heart as it slowed its beating. 

“Stop looking at me like that, I’m gonna get you out of here.” I say, having to look away because otherwise, I might just break down. But my words didn’t seem to convince Mansk at all. They just refreshed his fading smile. 

Even if we would somehow make it out of this room, our chances of dying were probably worse on deck because Jake and Neytiri were still there. And if they weren’t, there was no way we could get off this ship. We were both too wounded to fly our Ikrans. It wouldn’t work.

With the next inhale he tensed up and coughed while I steadied him and kept him sitting upright. His legs were motionlessly laying on the floor in front of him while his chest heaved. I noticed him cough out a few drops of blood which is what did it for me. Mansk wasn’t doing well and my hopes of him surviving were dying out. 

“Thank you…” he whispered as his cough finally retreated. I look up at him through glossy eyes, wondering what he meant. I wasn’t going to let him see me cry, because crying would be acknowledging that he wasn't going to make it. As long as I held them back, there was still hope in me. 

“I thought I’d-” he said, being cut off by gasping for air. “...die alone.” 

A smile formed on his lips again as his eyes remained fixed on my face. 

Mansk knew all recom’s were something close to friends but he didn’t think he ever had anyone close enough to him to stay with him through his last moments. He expected to be left behind somewhere, injured and no longer deemed as useful. 

“Come on Mansk, don’t give up on me.” I say, my forced calm voice breaking as I feel my bottom lip begin to quiver. 

“I’m glad you’re here…” he struggled to say, forcing the words out of his pained chest while keeping his faint smile. It was slowly fading again.

I gasp, pressing my lips together to not lose it. I reach for his limp and blood-stained hand and hold it between both of mine. Feeling how cold it is has me fighting back tears. 

I shiver from shock and pain. My broken rib was poking me and it hurt like hell.

"I can't save us." I whisper to myself, my voice trembling.

Suddenly, I feel how my legs are wetted and I look down, dreading to see blood but this time it is water. The room was slowly tilting to one side and the water was flowing in from the other side of the room. Mansk had noticed it too. 

“You-” he said before coughing up more blood and I lost it. “You need to go.” he said, his voice sounding pained and forced. I knew he was suffering but I couldn’t let him die here. 

“I’m not leaving you, Mansk.” I whisper, pressing his palm against my cheek. The tears blur my vision before spilling down my cheek, burning my skin a little. 

“You can- live.” he says, swallowing back a cough while he struggles to breathe. 

I clench my eyes closed, not wanting him to leave me as well. I knew Mansk for a long time and even though we were never really close, he had been a part of my life since I arrived on Pandora. We rarely talked but we knew we had each other's back and it didn’t cross my mind that I could lose him during this war. Now that I was face to face with the aftermath of violence, I was crumbling down. He meant too much to me, I couldn’t let him go. 

“Don’t worry about me.” I whisper, forcing a trembling smile onto my face. I point to the opening of the hole we fell through. “I’ll get out there.” I say and his eyes slowly drift from my face to the opening in the ceiling and then back to me. He doesn’t seem sure of it but he doesn’t question it any further. His movements become so faint that I notice his presence slowly fading away. Mansk’s eyes slowly unfocus from my face and I reach out and cup his cheek while tears continue to spill from my eyes. 

“Mansk-” I sob, trying to stay composed in front of him. He blinked, opening his slowly closing eyes a bit more and looking at me again. 

“... stay with me, come on.” 

My fingers gently tap his cheek while the water on the floor mixes with his blood. 

Mansk opens his mouth to say something but he can’t push out a single word and instead, he slowly struggles to inhale before closing his mouth again. 

I hold his palm against my chest, roughly where my heart is as I try to keep his attention on me. 

“Please, don’t do this to me…” I sob, clutching his hand. He stares at me and his eyes look sad but he can’t say or do anything. 

“Mansk, please you’re all I have left.” I cry out, dropping my head down before looking up at him. 

“Thank you…” he repeats and ever so faintly whispers. He was grateful I was by his side because in truth Mansk did want to live. Mansk wanted to wake up to the morning the next day and be with everyone else. But that wasn’t possible. Not only because he was slowly dying, but because everyone has had since probably died.

I rub my thumb over his cheek, trying to comfort him. He’s looking into my eyes and furrows his eyebrows together a little as if he were confused about whether my tears are actually for him. Like he didn’t think he was worth my pain. 

Mansk looked at me almost apologetically and his lips parted while he tried to get more air into his lungs. I couldn’t see his chest heaving anymore but I felt so mild air fanning from his mouth with small exhales. 

I bit down on my lip, watching him and needing proof of life every few seconds. 

He’s staring at me, grateful he wasn’t left alone and I notice how his eyes start to unfocus again. I gently tap his cheek, waiting for his eyes to readjust like they did last time but this time Mansk’s head is slowly falling to the side and into my palm. His eyes fade out and stare into nothing as they move from my face to the empty space behind me. His soft breath stopped fanning against my hand and his face was no longer contorted in pain or sorrow. It was blank and relaxed. 

Mansk’s hand slowly drifted off my chest and loosely fell on his lap.

I wanted to scream and call his name but all words got stuck in my throat and I held onto him while my mouth gaped open. Tears fell from my face onto his now lifeless and numb body. 

His blood continued to colour the rising water around me red. It had already overflowed his legs and reached up to his waist. 

I held on to his body, pressing my face against his shoulder and crying my eyes out. 

At this point, I had lost absolutely everyone and everything. We couldn’t return to family on Earth because we were Na’vi and now we had all lost each other. 

Z-Dog lay on the top deck with a bow in her hip and one in her face while the ship started to slowly sink. 

Prager lay on his side, motionless with a spear through his chest. 

Lopez’s body had now sunk to the bottom of the ocean after he was shot by an arrow. 

Walker, Zhang and Fike both had been shot down by arrows too.

Warren and Brown got an axe in their body.

Ja I had left behind after he was killed by the Tulkun. 

Lyle was floating in the water, struggling to stay above the surface.

I didn’t know where Quaritch was but I knew he couldn’t help me. 

And Mansk… lay bleeding out in front of me, lifeless and cold. His head was tilted to the side and I knew that he was gone. I could never talk to him again. I would never see him again. I know even if I survived, they wouldn’t retrieve his body and he would stay here and sink with the ship. 

The water was filling the room more rapidly now but I still clung on to Mansk, crying his name. 

I noticed his broken shades floating in the water and picked them up. 

Remembering how much he liked to wear them I steadied his head and carefully put them on him after closing his eyelids. He would have thanked me if he could have for this.

My body was shaking but I knew I was going to die here too if I didn’t leave soon. I get up and the water reached up to Mansk’s neck already. It was gushing in from a half-open door on the other side of the dark room. 

I look up, making sure the exit is still there but suddenly I see the water start flowing in from the top. The entire room is slowly turning over and the water flowing on deck has managed to push over the door which now completely closed off the hole we were in. 

The room gets a lot darker and the water is leaking in from the side and from the top. 

I groan out in pain through my sobs. I have tears staining my cheeks and my nose became runny and stuffed. This isn’t how I wanted things to end. We were finally starting to enjoy being alive on Pandora and now we died because our past selves made us finish something they couldn’t. 

I look back at Mansk and see that he is fully submerged in the water now. I cry out, hating how helpless he is and how helpless I feel now. My side aches even more and I clutch my broken rib, trying to bite back the pain. I wouldn’t be able to swim in this anyway. 

Within minutes, my feet are no longer touching the ground and my head is bumping against the ceiling. I’m crying out for help in pain but no one can hear anything over the noise of the flowing water. I wonder if anyone is still alive but I highly doubt it. There is a crack in the wall which is letting the oxygen in the room be replaced with water. I struggle to swim and keep my head above the surface. 

(Art)

But then I ask myself, why I’m fighting? There was no use to it. Everyone was gone and I was stuck and injured. 

I deeply inhale one last time before the entire room is submerged in water. My eyes open and I peer down at Mansk, who is lifelessly half laying at the bottom. 

Since I’m going to die I might as well join him there so neither of us has to be alone. 

I swim down with the last of my strength, watching how the last few bubbles of air escape his slightly parted lips. My hand once again reaches for his and I hold on to it for some form of comfort before I face upwards and let all the air I have to escape my lungs. 

I start choking and look at Mansk. The light specks on our skin were slightly illuminating the water but his were more faded. I looked closer and watched how the light slowly vanished from him, one dot at a time. 

It wasn’t long before I started drowning and a few minutes later, my lifeless, artificial blue body sunk down and joined Mansk on the floor of the ship.

Our bodies would stay here, most likely forever since all the death here was just a failed mission. 

The lights from my body had now disappeared too and we were dragged down to the bottom of the ocean along with the ship. All because some humans wanted us to finish what they couldn’t.

So there I lay, greeting death with a smile once again, in hopes of meeting Mansk someday and somewhere far from here.

(I'm going to try and make some art to this)

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @number1gal

[lukesaprince]

NEW PICS OF RICHHARRY DROPPED 🤭

https://www.tumblr.com/twostepstyless/750088444260368384/barking-like-a-dog

YEAH BABY THEY SURE FUCKING DID

I can just imagine him coming home from a Pleasing meeting and maybe y/n didn’t see him before he left because she was working or out with friends. When he gets back she’s practically pouncing on him because she missed him and at first she doesn’t really register what the shirt says because she’s kissing him and asking him questions about the meeting and then she finally reads it and is like…

“What’s this?” You blinked, pushing his plush coat apart to read the letters. “You like to watch, huh?” You mused, looking up at him.

Harry smirked, smoothing his hands over your hips. “Mhm”

“And what exactly do you like to watch?”

“Oh… y’know. All sorts of things.” His grin was wicked, eyes beginning to darken as you started to walk backwards towards his front formal lounge.

“Oh really? Like what?” Your eyes were starting to blaze that heat he loved to gain from you, like the craved warmth you get laying in the sun on holiday. You turned your bodies so his back was towards his nice leather sofa and started to guide him towards it. “Like me?… you wanna watch me?”

“Always.” He murmured, already getting worked up at the idea of where this is going. “Why? Do you want me to watch you, darling?”

“Yeah… real bad, Daddy” you smiled, leaning up to kiss him before pressing your palm to his chest. He groaned and kissed you back eagerly, only to be pushed down onto the couch so you were standing over him. “Stay here.”

“I fucking love when you’re like this…” Harry groaned, rubbing his palms over his thighs as he watched you walk towards one of the armchairs opposite him.

“Even when you can’t touch me?” You tucked your thumbs into your pyjama shorts and underwear, pushing them down onto the floor in one go. At this point the only clothes you wore at Harry’s house was one of his t shirts and a pair of bottoms. Most of the time it was underwear and nothing else.

“Mhm. But I’ll only entertain this so far, baby. Y’know you can’t make yourself cum when I’m around.” Harry murmured, rubbing his hand over his stubble. Watching you perch yourself on his nice arm chair and spread your legs apart to show how wet you already were… fucking hell he just wanted to dive across the room face first and land between your pretty thighs.

Harry didn’t care whether you touched yourself when you two were apart, it was only normal and he thought it was an important part of connecting with your own body and mind. You two didn’t have that sort of relationship anyway, at least not 24/7. Harry most certainly had more control in the bedroom. Plus, with how often he thought of you, if he didn’t have a daily wank he’d be walking around with a perpetual hard on and he didn’t really want constant blue balls.

There was an exception though, a rule Harry put in place that you were more than happy to follow, and use to try and get him to punish you if you wanted him a little meaner than usual. If you two knew you’d be seeing each other that day, or were spending the weekend together you weren’t allowed to masturbate unless he instructed it.

The thought of you being in his house with your hands between your pretty thighs without him… God he couldn’t fucking stand it. He wanted to be the one to make you cum and he wanted you desperate and needy for him when you saw him.

“No? Not even by accident? Not even when you’re watching me?” You cooed, sliding your hands over your inner thighs and upwards to where your clit was already aching with need.

“There is no ‘by accident’, baby and you know it.” Harry smirked, shifting his thighs wider apart on the couch. He was already hard and straining against his pants, but he didn’t want to relieve himself just yet. Not when the show hadn’t even begun. He spread his arms apart behind him, staring right at you while playing with his bottom lip.

“Now go on, darling. Give Daddy something to watch…”

[son1c]

conclusion to the falling stars bonus chapter (yeehaw edition)

falling stars fic masterpost

Shadow glared at the cowboy ghost. It was difficult to keep his eyes on him while also keeping track of the possessed horse statues, but somehow, Shadow was managing. He saw them whinny and kick their feet out of the corner of his eye, their metal hooves scraping against the dirt.

“We’re no one’s dinner,” Shadow growled, his grip tightening around Sonic.

“Watch yourself, boy,” the ghost warned, his ferocious grin widening. “You ain’t the first folks to have made it this far. I’ll round you up like I’ve rounded up the rest, and you’ll be mine again before sundown.”

The horses reared their heads back in agreement. Shadow glared at them too.

“I saw through your ruse once,” Shadow said. “It won’t work on me a second time. You’re a fool if you think otherwise!”

That made the ghost laugh. “You’ve got the spirit of a stallion, hedgehog.” Leaning forward, the ghost then said, “But there’s one thing you ought'a know: even the toughest spirit can be broken.”

The sound of metal on metal suddenly tore through the air. The noise was loud, and horrible, but it wasn’t nearly as horrible as the sight of the horse statues charging at Sonic and Shadow. Their twisted steel bodies shuddered with every pump of their spindly legs, and their heads jerked this way and that as if they were puppets on tangled strings, their creepiness factor working on overdrive.

Shadow dodged the first horse by diving to the right, but the second horse adjusted course quickly, and was on top of him before he had a chance to get out of the way. When the metal monster stomped down on him, Shadow was forced to drop to the ground and block the attack with his foot, since he still had Sonic in his arms. The horse’s bestial strength was apparent from the gust of wind that blew through Sonic’s quills when its hoof connected with Shadow’s shoe.

With wide eyes, Sonic stared at the killer hoof. It was less than an inch from his nose, and still fighting to get closer.

Shadow set his jaw. He wasn’t willing to become roadkill. With a great heave, he pushed the metal horse back, and jumped to his feet. A bead of sweat rolled down his face, but he was far from beat. “I won’t break,” he snarled as he shot a loathsome glare at the cowboy ghost. “If you don’t back down, your pets will be the only ones left in pieces.”

The look in the ghost’s eyes was hungry. “Quit yappin’, and show me your fire!”

Sonic tugged on Shadow’s shoulder. “Stripes,” he said tensely, “you gotta put me down.”

Shadow didn’t break eye contact with the ghost. “No. You’re in no condition to fight.”

Sonic balled his hands into fists. “I can handle myself. ‘Sides, it’s no good if I’m slowin’ you down.”

The two hedgehogs were surrounded. Six metal horses stood in a circle around them, leaving no room to escape. The ghost town offered no spectators, but the fog created the illusion of figures if the sun hit it at the right angle. It felt like they were in the middle of a grand event, a showdown at the town square, except they weren’t fighting for the title of sheriff; they were fighting for their lives.

Shadow briefly turned his attention away from the ghost in favor of looking down at Sonic. When he spoke, he did so with annoyance in his tone. “This isn’t up for debate. You–”

The dark hedgehog was cut off by the sudden appearance of a third horse. Its huge steel head was plowing forward, ready to bash Shadow’s skull to bits. Sonic yanked Shadow backwards, and the two hedgehogs rolled under the horse’s attack, missing it by a hair.

Now on the ground, Sonic pushed himself out of Shadow’s grasp and said, “I got us into this mess, alright? The least I can do is stay outta your way while you clean it up.”

Shadow looked like he wanted to argue, but when the cowboy ghost sent another horse his way, he decided to prioritize the threat. Now that he had both hands free, he was able to grab the horse when it charged at him, and with that same unnatural strength as before, he flipped it over his head and slammed it down into the dirt. The horse shrieked in surprise, but because it was a haunted statue and not a real horse, it couldn’t really feel pain.

Shadow would need to completely destroy it in order to take it out of the fight.

Sonic, meanwhile, was thinking about what he could do to help. He didn’t want to be a dead weight–anymore than he already was. Surely, there must be something he could do to aid Shadow in the fight. His broken leg complicated things, but he’d sooner break another bone than just stand there and do nothing. So, he looked between all of the horses, at their tall metallic bodies that cut into the sky like cursed blades. And he noticed something.

The horse statue that the cowboy ghost was sitting on moved seamlessly, its motions almost indistinguishable from a living, breathing horse. The ones on the other side of the square, however, moved more erratically, their bodies twitching like they were running out of power.

Maybe, if…

“Stripes!” Sonic shouted, his eyes big from the realization. “You gotta throw it, man!”

Shadow, who had been trying and failing to punch the life out of the undead horse statue, shouted back, “What?!” He narrowly avoided the statue’s dagger-like teeth when it snapped at him.

“As far as you can,” Sonic answered. “Just do it!”

Grunting, Shadow figured he might as well give it a shot. He ducked under the horse’s hooves, whipped back around, and grabbed its spindly legs with both of his hands. Then, he spun it around, faster and faster, until finally he let it go, and the statue sailed through the air, crashing into a house two blocks down the street. It did not get back up.

Shadow’s eyes lit up. Five more to go.

Moving fast, Shadow managed to toss all but the last horse out of the fight. When it came to that last one, however, he had to stop, because it was the one the cowboy ghost had chosen as a steed. And the cowboy ghost now had Sonic clutched in his ghastly fist. The blue hedgehog was clawing angrily at the white hand wrapped around his middle, but if the ghost could feel it, he didn’t seem to care.

“I’ll cut you a deal,” the ghost purred, his swirling eyes glowing bright purple as they bored into Shadow. “Surrender, and I’ll let him go. Your Chaos Energy’s all I’m hankerin’ for, anyhow. Ain’t no need to be greedy!”

“No! Stripes, don’t–”

The ghost tightened his grip around Sonic, choking him. His freaky eyes never wavered from Shadow’s face. “Refuse, and I’ll kill him.” Grinning, the ghost said to Shadow, “The choice is yours.”

Shadow watched as Sonic’s face started to turn blue. His chest frothed with rage at the cowboy ghost, the feeling swirling inside of him like a snowstorm, prickling his skin and fur and threatening to burst out in a storm of icicle spears. He looked the ghost dead in the eye, his expression frigid. His voice was equally as cold when he replied, “I refuse.”

The ghost blinked in surprise. However, he quickly recovered, and his expression darkened. “Stubborn hog,” he sneered. “As if I’d let a good meal go to waste!”

Then, the ghost loosened his grip around Sonic, and Sonic gasped. But before the blue hedgehog could recover, the ghost pressed his big thumb against Sonic’s little forehead, and said evilly, “Do me a favor, won’t you, darlin’? Wrangle that friend a'yours for me.”

Sonic’s efforts to break free from the ghost’s grasp died down when his green eyes started to fill with purple. And when he looked down at Shadow from his place atop the horse statue’s head, it was with the same swirling gaze as the cowboy ghost.

Great. Now Shadow would have to–

Blinking, Shadow stared at the top of the horse statue’s head, but Sonic wasn’t there anymore. His ear twitched, and he snapped his head to the side just in time to see Sonic’s fist coming towards him way faster than he ever would have thought was possible. Shadow caught it, but only just barely, and his palm stung from the impact.

The two hedgehogs skidded across the dirt, the speed of Sonic’s attack carrying them forward even after it had been stopped.

It was the sweat lining Sonic’s brow that caused Shadow to look down. Under the leg brace, Shadow could see the bandages begin to turn red as fresh blood seeped through. He gritted his teeth. While Sonic’s speed certainly came as a surprise, it was being forced out of him, and if Shadow didn’t stop it soon, the consequences could be dire.

Sonic threw another punch, although this one seemed slower than the first. His fist still streaked through the air like a speeding bullet, however, and Shadow had to be quick to catch it. Then, the dark hedgehog’s chest squeezed with rage at the cowboy ghost when he heard Sonic’s breath hitch from the next step he took.

No more playing around.

Shadow dropped Sonic’s fists and ran towards the cowboy ghost and his steed at top speed, his icy anger igniting and turning into a burning flame inside his heart. He refused to let this spirit keep them trapped here any longer, and when he curled into a ball, all of his rage joined him, his body set alight with red hot Chaos Energy.

The ghost did not dodge. His hunger consumed him–when he saw Shadow’s overflow of Chaos Energy, he simply waited in anticipation.

Less than a second later, Shadow’s hit connected with the horse statue’s skull, and the haunted art piece burst into flames, overwhelmed by the power of Shadow’s attack. The cowboy ghost was next, as Shadow bounced off the statue’s head and slammed directly into the ghost’s face, still on fire with that crackling red energy.

It proved to be too much for the voracious ghost. He, too, burst into flames. His spirit burned away quickly, destroyed by the unrestrained power of Shadow’s Chaos Energy.

Shadow landed on his feet. He watched as the last of the cowboy ghost’s wispy form disappeared into the sky with a dark expression. Good riddance, he thought. Then, he rushed over to the other side of the square, where Sonic was standing, wobbling on his feet.

“Sh… Sheesh! What hit me?” Sonic laughed, though it was strained. “F-Feels like I just went through the spin cycle! Haha!”

Shadow inspected Sonic’s eyes, but could find no trace of the ghostly purple that had previously been infecting them. Did he not remember going fast?

“Let’s get out of here,” Shadow said tersely, casting a glance over his shoulder. The hospital building had disappeared, but that creepy fog remained hanging over everything. “Before anything else shows up.”

“Huh?” Sonic blinked, still a little dazed. “Oh, yeah. And let’s hunt down a cafeteria while we’re at it–one without an ectoplasm problem!”

Shadow suddenly felt a searing pain in his head. It burned him, like the Chaos Energy he had just unleashed onto the cowboy ghost. He squeezed his eyes shut to curb his spinning vision, but it did little to help the sudden nausea that was now gripping at his throat.

Sonic noticed the sudden change and immediately shook off the last of the funk clouding his brain. He reached out to Shadow, holding him steady by gripping the dark hedgehog’s upper arm. “You doin’ okay, bud?”

Grimacing, Shadow pried his eyes open. “It’s nothing. Just–”

Whatever he was about to say died in his throat, as his body completely shut down on him. Sonic, alarmed, caught him before he could become a pile in the dirt.

Thankfully, he could feel Shadow’s breath against his shoulder, so he knew he wasn’t dead, just asleep. Still, Sonic was concerned.

“Take it easy,” Sonic said, even though Shadow couldn’t hear him.

Sonic’s leg–which he had been pointedly ignoring up until this point–screamed at him to sit down, but there was no way he could stop and rest in this messed up ghost town. The buildings loomed at him through the fog, the specters of the horse statues lurking just out of sight.

Sonic slung Shadow’s arm over his shoulders. He didn’t have the leg strength necessary to carry him like a Disney princess, so hopefully the dark hedgehog wouldn’t mind being half-dragged through the mud while Sonic limped up the hill and out of town. He didn’t stop until the haunted town vanished behind the hills at his back, and when it did, he carefully laid Shadow down in a bed of flowers before flopping down next to him, exhausted.

Staring up at the stars, Sonic listened to the soft sound of the wind blowing through the grass. To no one in particular, he asked, “Has my life always been this exciting?”