#every time i make one of these comics it makes my partner laugh in joy and thats how i know im doin SOMETHING right ufnfnfjfj

[pigdemonart]

Part 2 of 3

read part 1 here!

Read part 3 here!

This one took a little longer than usual since I’m moving this week, so there is a lot to pack. Fun pages though, every poor expression on Luigi makes me smile. Wet chihuahua of a man.

Like my art? Please consider tipping!

Wanna support? Please check out this zine!

[oncomingnight]

yandere! Scientist

Hello everyone, thank you so much for all of your support on my previous stories. I was extremely excited about writing this specific piece because it's sort of based on movie that's set to come out real soon. I hope you enjoy and feel free to send requests/speak to me in my ask box.

You met Seán while you were both freshmen in highschool. you noticed he was relatively quieter than everybody else in the classroom. He was the most knowledgeable student in that damned classroom, he was just stealthy about it. The two of you really got to know each other when you were selected as partners, selected based on the similarity of your scores, percentages and your ability to learn certain subjects.

Even after the project was finished and graded, the two of you still kept speaking to each other. The reason for that was because he was absolutely and undeniably in love with you. It took awhile for it to click into your head that he was attracted to you, but when you finally realized, you couldn't be more ecstatic.

He confessed to you at the beginning of your sophomore year. Whilst you were putting some of your belongings into your locker, he showed up behind you with blood red roses in his hand, along with a comically large basket of gifts. A tea-stained letter was nestled into the folds of one of the roses, inside of it was him expressing just how happy you've made him for the past year. How he wants your love reserved for him and him alone.

"Hello, Y/n, I'm sorry to have caught you off guard. You don't have to say anything until after I'm done talking but I have to tell you now because it'll do no good to either of us to just have this rot within me. You've been the subject of my love and utter adoration for...oh, dear...it's been so long I've now forgotten. But, I'll have you believe that I have never and will never forget how sublime you make me feel. Every time I think of you, I can't help but smile and think of our potential future together. Y/n, I wish so desperately to take care of you, touch you, kiss you, to hear my name on your lips for the rest of time, only if you'll let me. Now I'm ready, what do you think?"

You were absolutely stunned to hear such profound declarations of love fall from his lips, even more so when the declarations were about you.

You stood there with your bouquet of prickly roses, woven basket full of all you took joy in. You opened your dry mouth and said, "I can't believe you said all that about me. All of this is so beautiful, Seán. So, what do I think? I'm not sure what I think but I know I want to be your girlfriend."

After high school, he immediately got down on one knee to ask you if you'd be forever his woman. His wife. Of course, your answer was a tearful 'yes' as you blubbered about how much you loved him and about how so happy you were.

Highschool sweethearts!

You've always known about his appreciation for science and his interest to pursue a career in that topic. You can only imagine just how thrilled he was when he got a position in a government facility with the job he's always fought for. He picked you up and swirled you around, causing you to become temporarily dizzy as you giggled at his enthusiasm. Seán doused your hot and flustered cheeks with kisses as he smiled at your precious laugh.

He was so glad he'd managed to get a PhD and job in something that would make him enough money to take care of the both of you, but, mostly you. He was so appreciative to you for staying with him for all these years, always his perfect girl, always so supportive, always giving him beyond helpful ideas + advice. You were perfect.

Eventually, the world was struck with a variety of struggles, mainly caused by powerful political figures that simply did not agree with each other. Many people were caught in the crossfire, protests began being organized, riots ensuing right outside of government buildings. What followed all of these events? Well, the only reasonable answer. War.

Because of this, your husband was called into office and put into a group of other physics scientists. They claimed they needed a defense weapon in case of everyone being put into a harmful and treacherous situation. Seán was made the head man of the project.

This worried you to the fullest extent, maybe you were being dramatic but your husband's position in the project could make him a direct target. When you shared your thoughts with him he couldn't help but give you a small endearing smile.

"you've always been a worrisome woman, haven't you? Nothing will happen to you or to us. I'll make sure of it, I'm benefiting them by building this damned thing, they wouldn't dare let anything disrupt our life, m'kay?"

"Seán, I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about you. Yes, you're benefiting them which is exactly why you'd be in danger."

"I can take care of myself, mo mhuirnín dílis. You've witnessed it, no? Don't worry yourself any longer."

Now, you may be wondering what he's talkin' about. Well, don't worry I'll tell you.

Seán had taken you with him to visit the small fishing town he had grown up in. After eating a delicious meal with your in-laws, Seán was invited by some old friends to go out and drink at an old and creaky pub. They have been asking to meet you and this was a chance for him to show you off to everyone in town, so, he accepted.

The night remained still and calm, despite the occasional roar of laughter that would occur at the table. It was fun, you were so glad Seán took you out to see where he was gifted with life.

But then

As you headed towards the friendly barmaid to make an order of crisps for everyone seated at the table. As you waited to be handed your order, a ragged young man that looked incredibly haggard for his age due to all of the alcohol approached you. You were sure he was just going to request assistance in catching a cab as he looked far too intoxicated to do it on his own. But no. He just wanted some action.

He pushed himself onto you with his flirtatious words but after you rejected him, you had angered him to an extreme point. He gripped your arm hard enough to bruise and spoke into your face with a horrid stench on his tongue.

"Now why won't you just shut your little mouth and please a man, hm?" He grinned maliciously.

Suddenly, you saw a quick flash of a fist show in your vision, not expecting it to be Seán punching the man with all the force he had in his slim yet firm body. All it took was one hit for the man to be on the ground, passed out. Yet, Seán didn't stop there and he wouldn't have stopped if his friend hadn't yanked him off the man. He was slamming his knuckles onto the man's pale face until it was almost fully covered in a crimson red.

You'd never seen him act in such a rabid way but you weren't angry at him. He was just protecting you. In an extremely visceral and self incriminating way. He didn't care, he's done far worse in defense of you but those were things he'd done in secret.

You were already far aware of how protective he could get and how emotional he was when it came to you. Someone could say something harmful about you and he'd mutter under his breath in anger, digging his nails into the palm of his hands, and eventually kiss your forehead before leaving the house to go do what he knew needed to be done.

When the two of you were intimate he'd cry at times while expressing his incredibly deep affection for you. He loved seeing you like this, furrowed brows, flushed cheeks, your huffs and puffs when he teased you. "I'd kill for you, y-you know that, yeah? Oh, A mhuirnín, I'd do anything for you. Absolutely anything."

There comes a lot of stress with his job, at times he'd return from work and burrow his head into your tummy, wrapping his firm arms around your waist. No matter how many times he messages you during work, no matter how many times he re-reads the letter you left him in his lunch, no matter how many times he calls you, he'll always yearn for your touch.

You lift his face from your stomach and remove his glasses, ruffling his dark curls after doing so. Your thumb gently swipes over his cheek, before leaning in and giving him a deep kiss. He melts into your touch and gives you a love-drunk smile.

His perfect girl.

The both of you would go on the loveliest getaway trips when he was able to take a break from work. You'd go to a restaurant and he'd hold your chin as he gently fed you pieces from the pasta you'd ordered, giving you time to chew and swallow.

When in clothing stores, he'd wait outside of the changing room on a cushioned seat, waiting to see his wife's lovely face and figure. He would never let you look at the price tags as that would discourage you from buying what you'd like, he didn't want that.

Seán has a habit of overworking himself to sketch out the building plans for the project he was assigned, he needed it to be perfect. This could change the future and if there even was a possibility that there'd be a future. You'd walk into his office, seeing his hooked nose being beautifully lit by the candle on his desk. He took a sip of his Bushmills whiskey before turning to look at you with eyes full of admiration. "You have to eat something, surely you know that. Plus, I made it so you have to eat it or else I'll get upset."

He's obviously very well known in the science world, I mean, his creation will determine the outcome of society. He's bound to get some recognition. People have come to be obsessed with the relationship the two of you have and the story of your love. Every photograph people see of the two of you, Seán is turned towards you with the most love sick look of them all. In photographs where he's alone, he may as well be the most stoic man in the world.

People would post slideshows of the two of you together and caption it with something along the lines of:

'me and him'

Others in the comments would practically point and laugh at the person with responses of:

'you wish.' 'y'all aren't that important ' 'try again' 'interesting 🧐.' 'Can you be serious...?'

This man is the most serious man in the entire universe when he's at work and surrounded with his partners. But, when he's alone with you? He's nuzzling his cheek into your chest, kissing all over you, kissing your hand, hugging you from behind, THE WHOLE NINE YARDS.

Seán is the type of husband to pick up your coffee + bakery order to wake you up with, leaves you gifts and notes to find around the house, takes you to the most wonderful places anyone could ever go to.

He's so glad he made someone like you his wife.

Forever :).

[nanawritesit]

Red Velvet: Having a “Golden Retriver” S/O

Anonymous said: “hi lovely!!!! can you do red velvet reactions to having a s/o who has a very sunshiney "golden retriever" personality,, and who admires them/shows affection all the time ^_^💘💘”

i love this concept sm 🥺 i hope i do it justice :)

Irene:

She would 100% vibe with your bubbly personality. She loves how you make everything exciting and always seem to be happy about everything. Your relentless spirit actually inspires her to keep going whenever she’s feeling down. Especially when she’s stressed out from work, her joy is coming home to you because you instantly cheer her up. You’ll give her all the cuddles and kisses she needs, and tell her all the wonderful things about her that she should be proud of. You take such good care of her, making sure she eats well and gets enough sleep. She would do the same for you if you ever needed it!

“If I have you by my side, I feel like I can do anything, Y/N. You’re my vitamin!”

Seulgi:

If you’re the golden retriever partner, then she’s the “black cat girlfriend.” Your opposing aesthetics capture the eye of everyone around you! She thinks it’s so admirable how positive and social you are, and you actually become her crutch in social situations. Her social battery will drain out and she’ll tug on your sleeve, giving you a look that you know means she wants to leave. You of course handle the situation beautifully and tell everyone that something came up and that you and your girlfriend had to head out. She loves how well you read her, and is so grateful to have you as a partner.

“Thank you so much for getting us out of there. You’re the best partner ever Y/N.”

Wendy:

She finds you absolutely adorable, and can’t hold back her affections whenever you’re being energetic and positive. She would squeal and take you in her arms, kissing your cheek and telling you how cute you were. Wendy didn’t care that all her members made fun of her. She actually didn’t know what a “golden retriever personality” was until Yeri explained it to her. She’d give you the nickname one morning when you had excitedly woken her up and told her about all the plans you had for the two of you.

“Y/N you’re so fun and energetic, you’re my golden retriever partner! Yeri told me it’s like a meme nowadays! Isn’t it funny how well it suits you?”

Joy:

She would absolutely love having a golden retriever partner. You’re so kind and you treat her like an absolute princess, and she can’t get enough of it. You’re always tying her shoes for her, buying her little gifts, helping her get ready…. and she loves all the compliments you give her. She would make it her mission to fluster you back, buying you flowers and telling you how pretty you are.

“Awh, I didn’t mean to make you blush so hard Y/N! I just wanted to treat you as well as you deserve. You’re an amazing person, and I love you so much!”

Yeri:

She is also a golden retriever girlfriend! The other girls always laughed at you while you were running around, saying you were like two little puppies playing together. Yerim fed off of your positivity and you did the same to her, always finding the simplest things the most exciting and following her anywhere she wanted to go. She loved the bond you two had, and how you both had no personal space. Every night you would fall asleep holding each other super tight, and you shared practically everything. Yerim almost found it comical how alike the two of you were. She was comforted by the fact that you were basically the same person.

“You know Y/N, they may say we’re two golden retrievers, but I like it. Running around with you makes me happy.”

[quirkthieves]

KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER.

REPOST DO NOT REBLOG !!

NAME: viverra ! but ive also been called vixen, dogma, gabe, etc. any works

PRONOUNS : he/him

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : big big fan of discord. tumblr ims are hard for me to read </3

NAME OF MUSE(s) : monoma neito, ibara shiozaki, chitose kizuki/curious, kaina tsutsumi/lady nagant, setsuna tokage, ryo inui/hound dog, natsuo todoroki, kendou itsuka, hinata haruka, nobimaru, inari yoko, marik ishtar, ishizu ishtar, rishid ishtar, atem, and lacramioara strigoi.

jesus christ who let me do this

BEST EXPERIENCE : ummm gee okay i cant just name one it turns out life is actually about the accumulation of small joys and not just a few big ones but every time i get in the car and listen to my music and go OH! THIS REMINDS ME OF THIS PERSONS MUSE AND OUR DYNAMIC! or when talking to people inspires me to draw little comics (esp while im at work let me live) it really just makes me so so happy

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS : im pretty chill for the most part i think like ive definitely mellowed out a lot over the past few years but. i gotta say it:

formatting. the over-formatting of everything is killing me. i cant read most peoples carrds. i dont even know how they read it, because of how insanely tiny the text is. eye strain colors, hard to see icons, weird fonts... i dont mind a little bit of formatting, naturally, like go girl give us everything, but its getting to the point of being genuinely frustrating that almost every new blog i encounter has me fighting for my life just trying to learn the important info. i have visual and neurological issues please lord im only seven

MUSE PREFERENCES: seconding cam on if the "when someones pulled a muse apart like the spaghettification of a star and then put them back together". its fascinating. i think the fun part about rp is that i get just as invested in my partners character and what they get out of each thread as much as i do mine, so when people sit there and talk about their ideas and meta and really dig into that thing like . WHOOO NOW WE'RE COOKING

PLOTS OR MEMES : I like both! I think memes are good to kick things off regardless, and I dont mind building off of it. I like to plot a lot ooc but more in a loosey-goosey kind of way; i really like to get to know other muns and their characters and also talking is just sort of how i think through things so its very helpful to me. i also just get a lot of ideas because these things live rent free in my head but to me a natural progression is more important than like, sticking to a script.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : i write insanely long replies because i have things wrong with me. theres NEVER any pressure to length match-- a lot of the time im just doing it to establish exposition or setting so the other person finds it easier to work with. just give me something i can work with and we are a ok :D

BEST TIME TO WRITE : it really depends... i typically end up writing in the evening/afternoon because of my schedule. i think the biggest thing is that i work on weekends, so you may only hear from me ooc on those days. im also really trying to fix my sleep schedule.........to varying levels of success. sometimes the thread is too good

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : just talking about monoma here... i've also got a pretty snappy mouth and natural love of finding loopholes, but i just went into paralegal instead of making it class A's problem. i also love to laugh, but id like to think im a lot less meanspirited about it

tagged: @dynmghts

tagging: @veroxins @cloistress @killerhubby @enignoema @eclipsemuses @yeonban @starshinc @ofluminance @paracide @ohcruel

[thetribblelorian]

Yuletide Letter 2023

Dear Yuletide Writer, 

Hello! I’m TheTribblelorian! This is my first year participating in Yuletide, and I’m so excited. I’ve never done this type of thing before. 

Thank you so much for being willing to write a story in one of my favorite small fandoms. I wasn’t quite sure what to include in this letter, but I hope that I can at least give you a better idea of where to start. 

Like and Dislike:

I like to think I’m fairly easy to please. My main DNW is anything involving graphic, non-con or underage sex. I’m fine reading pretty vanilla sex, if you felt called to write one of those. I’d also prefer a happy ending.

I’m a big fan of angst, hurt and comfort, humor and romance. I also like miscommunication, badass women, dancing, soulmates, hanahaki and bodyswap fics. 

Prompts and Info on my fandoms:

I’m not sure if it’s necessary, but I figured I’d provide some more information about each of my fandoms in case it helps. I included some possible prompts to hopefully help you in writing a story, but feel free to write whatever brings you joy. If you enjoy writing it, I’ll probably enjoy reading it. 

Enchanted Forest Chronicles:

Requested Character: Telemain

I love this series. I love all the characters in this series. I grew up reading this series, and nothing brings me more joy than the fact that my favorite novel of all time (Shards of Honor by Lois Mcmaster Bujold) is dedicated to the author of this series. 

I have always felt that it was a shame that, while every other main character seemed to get their own book, Telemain never had his story told. I love reading (and writing) Telemain content. That being said, one of my favorite things is seeing everyone’s different interpretations of Telemain. Please don’t be afraid to write him however you want.

If you are looking for story ideas, I have some quick suggestions for you. Perhaps Morwen gets hurt or enchanted, and Telemain has to help. How would he react? How would she? Or maybe Telemain and Mendenbar go on a life-changing adventure! (Kinda like Zuko and his friends from ATLA!)

Ladyhawke (1985)

Requested Characters: Etienne Navarre, Isabeau d'Anjou, Philippe Gaston (one or more)

This movie rocks! Every time I rewatch it, I think “I want to know more about these characters”. 

I love found families, so if you are looking for some possible ideas, maybe you could write a soulmate fanfic. Or something about Philippe learning the meaning of family. That being said, I’m game for just about anything. Write what makes you happy. 

Lock In - John Scalzi

Requested Characters: Any

This novel was SO GOOD, as was the sequel. I doubt that Scalzi will be writing more of these after the pandemic, which makes me sad. I feel like we have questions that are still unanswered. 

I personally have been enjoying the lack of identifying features Scalzi has given characters in his most recent novels. For example, we don’t know Chris’s race or gender (although I suppose we could make guesses based on their parents). I personally imagine Chris as male (probably due to listening to Will Weaton’s audible narration), but would be happy to see them written as non-binary or female. 

Some story ideas I have if you are looking for prompts include Leslie finally telling Chris what happened to her old partner. Or maybe Leslie and Chris have to integrate for some reason?

Batman: Wayne Family Adventures (Webcomic)

Requested Characters: Three Incompetent Kidnappers

This comic reminds me of Silver age Batman, arguably the best Batman! My Thursday mornings have been a lot brighter since this comic began. 

I particularly like the recurring kidnappers. They make me laugh. I would love to read a funny story about these characters. That being said, if you wanted to write something more angsty, I’d be all for it. 

Some ideas for this story could include Jason getting kidnapped for a change, and Tim having to rescue him. Or maybe Jason teaches the three incompetent kidnappers how to be better. (better kidnappers? better individuals? Up to you!) Does that backfire on him? On them? 

It’s funny how science fiction universes… | Humans are Space Orcs - bogleech (Tumblr Post)

Requested Characters: Any

I thought this tumblr post was so funny. I’m a big science fiction fan (Star Trek, Star Wars, Firefly, Babylon 5, you name it!). I’d love to hear some more scenarios revolving around Humans being viewed as Space orcs. Maybe we could learn about how the aliens view human medicine? Human engineering? Humans in command?!

This ended up being much lengthier than I intended, but I hope it is helpful. Have a very happy Yule and I wish you the best of luck! Thank you again so, so much.

PS: I don't mind treats if someone is feeling inspired.

[pigeonp0st]

Hi I love your fics!❤️

Can I request a WandaxReader where Wanda is still new to the Avengers and so people are still pretty afraid and a little hostile towards her but Reader(a trainee or whatever) is one of the few people who aren’t scared of Wanda and the two end up getting close. Idk if that’s too much or not 😅🤷🏽

Wanda Maximoff x Reader #1

Words: 1,561

Warnings: Food, burn

Notes:

Thank you <3 and thanks for my first Wanda ask! I hope you enjoy. Sorry for all spelling/grammar mistakes ;)

(Imma head to bed now...if I can anyways. I’m super hyper for some reason)

———

There’s a new girl walking around the tower when you come back from your mission. You have to ask Tony to explain everything to you so you can understand why.

Apparently she was their enemy...and then their partner, and now a new avenger. You’re happy to have someone else on the team but everyone else seems...skeptical of her.

They get silent when she walks into a room. They don’t make much of an effort to talk to her, and they’re just all around...petty.

The new girl doesn’t seem to mind though. She just sits still and looks like she’d rather be anywhere else with her eyes darting around the room.

—-

Steve confronts you the day after you try to talk to Wanda during dinner. He warns you that she’s dangerous, and that he doesn’t trust her yet. He says not to become too close to her. The rest of the Avengers agree with him.

You just stare at them in mild disbelief. “Steve,” you tell him, incredibly disappointed in him, and the rest of the avengers, “she has lost everything. She looks lonely and depressed most of the time...how could you—how could you find evil in that?”

Him and the rest of the avengers don’t try and stop you from talking to her after that.

—-

“Train with me, Wanda.”

Wanda looks up from the book she’s been studying with narrowed eyes. “What?”

You grin at her cheekily and hold out a hand, “I wanna kick your ass. You can use your powers.”

Her eyebrow quirks then, surprised and apprehensive, and rightfully so. No one else even considers training with her. “I knew everyone here disliked me but I didn’t think they’d want to…’kick my ass’”

Your eyes widen comically. “I—what—no, no, no, I don’t want to—it’s an expression Wanda I swear, god, of course I don’t want to—I mean I do, but like in a friendly way—”

This, this moment right here is the first time you see her smile. It’s the first time you stop and notice how beautiful Wanda is. It’s the first time making someone else’s smile fills you with such a great sense of accomplishment.

It leaves you unexplainably breathless for a moment.

“I was kidding,” Wanda informs you, taking a hold of your hand and shaking it to seal the deal. It’s the first time you two touch. “I’m going to be the one kicking your ass, Y/N.”

She knows your name. Wanda knows your name. “I’d like to see you try.”

———

Wanda does end up kicking your ass, but she does it gently...if that’s possible. You challenge her again and again after that, only to end up losing each time.

Wanda keeps accepting, even though she looks more and more hesitant each time you ask, like she thinks that maybe this time will be the moment you realize she isn’t worth it. That she’s a monster.

You don’t. You don’t get bitter like she imagined either. You just get up each time with playfulness and a tiny bit of awe and fight again, but you never look at her with fear.

To Wanda, this moment means more than you will ever know. To Wanda, this is the moment she realizes that she wants to keep spending time with you, and that maybe this place won’t be that bad. Maybe she doesn’t have to be miserable any more.

To you, this is where you decide to keep surprising Wanda. Each time you get up again, each time you laugh, every compliment you give to her powers, she lights up just that bit more. You want to be someone Wanda can enjoy.

——

It’s about the fifteenth ass kicking that you decide, breathlessly, that you two try to fight without Wanda using her powers.

Wanda agrees cockily, which is why it’s such a surprise when you manage to knock her flat after the first five seconds.

You laugh loudly at her pout, so hard that your body shakes with it, but you manage to get out, between fits of laughter; “why the fuck were you so confident?”

Wanda rolls her eyes at you and kicks your feet out from under you but you couldn’t care less. You’re too busy laughing, and she joins in after a moment.

When the two of you calm down you turn your head to look at her. Her cheeks are flushed from laughing, and her hair is messy on the ground, but to you; she has never looked more beautiful. She has never looked so happy.

“I’ll train you,” you promise her, offering a smile that’s gentler than you intended.

Wanda nods, suddenly sheepish. “And i’ll train you.”

You remind her softly that you can’t use powers like her, but she smirks at you deviously like she’s already very much aware.

“I was not talking about your fighting skills,” Wanda huffs. “I tried one of the cookies you made the other day...and let’s just say they were not very good.”

The glare you send her way isn’t like the ones the avengers have been giving her—it’s completely playful. “I doubt that you’re baking skills are much better.”

“You will see.”

—-

Wanda is awful at baking you learn. The lesson she tried to give you ended with the kitchen almost burned down and the entire avenger squad rushing into the smoke filled kitchen.

What they come to see is Wanda, covered in flour, glaring at black bundles of ash that were meant to be cookies, and you doubled over in laughter in no less of a state of messiness.

Wanda swats at the back of your head, not noticing the avengers, and you try to hug her consoling despite your laughter.

Thus, the avengers realize with no small amount of amusement, that maybe Wanda can be trusted.

No villain can look that upset over burnt cookies, and no villain can look at someone with that amount of softness.

—-

The avengers warm up to Wanda quickly once they actually start talking to her, but she always clearly prefers to spend her training with you, and she never stops your baking session, even despite how awfully they always go.

You’ve also developed... feelings... for Wanda. It must be obvious to the rest of the avengers but it doesn’t seem to be as obvious to Wanda herself.

At least, you don’t think it is. You don’t think she likes you like that anyways...

Well, not until about your tenth baking lesson with her.

—

She’s grinning at you with the amount of joy you’ve finally become accustomed to seeing on her, and holding out (with her adorable mittens) the first set of non-burnt cookies that you two have ever made.

She looks so accomplished and so smug that you can’t help it. You kiss her. Right there in the compounds kitchen, with flour all around, and sugar in your hairs.

You kiss her and she kisses you back, tasting like your favorite dinner, and hot chocolate on a winter day. Kissing her is like coming home after a long day out, kissing her is like coming up for air after being underwater for much too long, kissing her is like—

“Ow!” You yell, pulling away abruptly and looking down at the red burn mark on your hand.

Wanda stands there blinking for a couple of moments, first at your lips, then at your burn mark, and then at the still hot ban still in her grasp.

When she’s able to snap out of her daze she sets the pan down and hugs you, with your burned hand between your bodies. “Sorry,” Wanda whispers.

“It wasn’t your fault.” It wasn’t. You were just too overwhelmed kissing her to remember the pan she was holding. Speaking of… “would you like—to you know...do that again sometime?”

Wanda releases you from her hug to give you an amused smile. “I’ll do you one better,” she says, cupping your cheek. “Be my girlfriend?”

You certainly weren’t expecting that. “Shouldn’t we at least go on a date first?”

Wanda tilts her head, confused and hesitant. “Haven’t we gone on ten now?”

You gape at her, bewildered. “I—um...I didn’t know...you know what, never mind. Let’s just...you’re my girlfriend now. Okay?”

This was not how you were expecting your day to go, but you're not even close to disappointed because Wanda gives you a beaming smile and nods her head repeatedly before drawing you back in for another kiss.

She pulls away after a moment. “I know they weren’t dates, but they might as well have been now, right?”

You wonder if everything you say to each other is going to be a question, and whether or not she’s doing this on purpose.

“Right.”

“Cool.”

“Cool,” you agree, rolling your eyes playfully. “Wanna treat my hand for me now that this is all settled, and since you're the one who burned me?”

“You said that wasn’t my fault!” Wanda huffs.

“Yes, well now that I want something from you it is.”

“Ah, I see. That’s how it works.”

“Yep.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

You flick her gently between the brows with your non-injured hand. “Stop it.”

Wanda smirks. “Or what, you’ll fight me about it? Do you think it’ll be your first win?”

“Dickhead.”

“Very professional, Y/N. Very professional.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

Omg thank you so much for writing my request for tom :) Can I ask for a part two where you try not to read the comments, but end up doing so, and most are good, so it's fine. Until you post a picture of you on your account, and tom's fans start calling you names, and tom's so tired of all that happening that he posts on his account a whole paragraph about how his personal life it's no one's business?

Posted

This is part two, find the first part here

Summary | previously Tom had accidentally posted a picture of the two of you, exposing your relationship. And so, you decide to purposely do the same on your Instagram, though the response is much different than what his post had received.

Warnings | hate comments, some angst, swear and demeaning words

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Tom was asleep beside you, his head tucked into the crook of your neck, you were able to feel his gentle, slumbering breathing against your skin, and it caused goose bumps to prickle upon the outer layer of your flesh.

The two of you had vastly fallen asleep upon the couch, and your phone was on the coffee table, and to say that you were itchy to reach for it was an understatement. There would be comments on the picture that Tom accidentally put online, and you were hungry to see them, whilst simultaneously nervous.

Tom was a big actor, known for his presence in the marvel cinematic universe upon many other projects, and some of his fans, whilst proven during Comic-Con panels, were borderline crazy. They’d snap if they even so much as saw something that they didn’t like, and this time, you would be on the receiving end of it.

Being motionlessly captured, with your face on show, was certain to bring much attention. You too were within the acting department, but there had been no correlation between the pair of you until now, most of the world weren’t even aware that you knew each other. And not to mention, your span of reaching an audience was smaller, although, certainly not non existent.

You had reprised fame during your appearance on Modern Family, as the friendly neighbour of Phil and Claire, and a classmate of their eldest daughter, and not to mention Luke was crushing hard on the character you played, though, with that said, your character laughed his efforts off due to the age difference, yet still found his pining weird and often uncomfortable.

Another role that you were becoming known for was your character in Netflix’s Irregulars, where you met Harrison Osterfield, Tom’s best friend. Through filming the show, you were introduced to the Spider-Man actor, and the pair of you had hit it off almost instantly, if you didn’t include Tom keeping his amorous distance, wary just in case there was something going on between you and your mutual friend. To his relief, there wasn’t.

And thus, when he received that confirmation, he was far more forward, yet respectful at the same time with his intentions. That was how you had ended up here, as he half used you as a pillow, his arms wrapped around his ribs, and his soft peaceful snores filling the void in the air.

Stretching your arm at its furthest length, your fingertips wrestled with the side of your phone, padding it closer to yourself, so that you could slide it across the small living room table, and closer to yourself. You were victorious in your efforts, and so on you unlocked your screen, going to your camera app, and leaning sideways so that you could snap a few pictures of your predicament with your loving and sweet boyfriend.

Looking at the images that you had captured, a smile arose upon your face; you truly did love this man, and you wanted the whole world to know how much you adored him. You wanted them to see that you cared about him, and that he was in good hands with you, to cool off any of his fans that were processing their hurt feelings for seeing Tom with another woman, show him that he was getting the love that he deserved.

Extreme courage coursed through your veins, focusing within your fingertips as you opened insta, gulping as you readied to post the image. There was no editing required, it was perfect just like him. And so, the caption was something to think about, you didn’t want to make it too obvious that you were dating as the online community already assumed, the priority was to show them that you cared about him.

‘He’s taking a nap, and crushing my hip a little, but I don’t mind 😌’ you typed, your finger hovering over the post button as you chewed your lip. It was easy to press your digit down, and so, taking a breath, you did just that, encouraged by the previous and kind comments on Tom’s earlier post.

Within a matter of minutes, your phone was blowing up, and you were too tempted not to glance at the growing comment section. There were various accounts, some supporting your confidence to show such a domestic version of yourself with Tom, you assumed that they were your followers, and the ones that weren’t so light hearted were those that intently watched anything on the media that involved Tom.

‘He’s too good looking for her, she should be dating someone within her league. Tom is clearly taking pity on this hoe.’

‘Aw look at him, and ew, look at the state of her. He could do sm better 😔’

‘Why doesn’t she look like his exes, they were hot af, and now he’s with some rando that is after his fame and money. Maybe she should just take better roles if she wants to get noticed so bad.’

Your eyes kept reeling through the intentionally hateful words that continued to come through beneath the image. Tears began to fall from your eyes as you tried to stifle the movements and the sound of your gentle sobbing, as to not wake Tom. Quickly, your fingers raced through the social media, and you, knowing that there would still be presence of the image somewhere online, you deleted it, muting notifications and shuffled back into Tom.

The man stirred, tugging you closer by your waist, pressing a kiss to your locks as he awoke. He noticed however the way that you refused to face him, and so he rolled you over with a gentle grip on your shoulder, frowning when he saw the recognisable redness beneath your eyes, and the sad expression floating within your eyes.

“Princess, what’s going on?” He wiped his thumb beneath your bottom lashes, collecting your tears as he worriedly looked down at you. His brown eyes searched every inch of your face for an idea, but found nothing but your broken hearted expression.

“It’s nothing Tommy.” You tried and failed to convince the man, wincing half heartedly as he sat back on his thighs, gripping your hips so that he could pull you up with him, giving him a clearer view of your face. It was clear that he did not believe you, and he hummed, trying to make you give in. Eventually, after much concerned staring, you gave in, slumping your shoulders as you tucked your arms around the back of his neck. “I posted a picture of us, the response wasn’t great.”

Instantly, Tom’s brows uplifted, surprised by your action, though he had a strong inkling of a feeling that the reaction that you had earned was not complimentary. These were not tears of joy, instead they were stricken rivers of anguish and insecurity running down the length of your face.

“Let me see.” He spoke, softly to you, but his intents towards defending you strong. You shook your head lightly, tracing circles upon his knees as you gulped, flickering your guilty gaze up to his watchful eyes.

“I deleted it. I just couldn’t deal with knowing that the longer that it was up, the more hate would be directed at me. I’m sorry.” Tom grasped your face by your tense jaw, his fingers stroking your chin as he sadly stared at you.

“Never be sorry. Now send me the picture you used so that I can give everyone a piece of my mind.” Reaching for your phone, you sent the image to him, and in a second his device pinged, revealing that it had successfully sent to him.

“Cute.” He described the picture, his hands furiously typing away on his phone, his constant unsettling of his rabidly moving fingers drawing anxiousness from you. “And some.” Tom finally breathed, closing his phone as you went to his account, checking what he had posted publicly.

‘This may concern some people, who keep sticking their noses in where it does not involve them. I appreciate you all, the support, the love, everything. But one thing that I do not stand for is people coming at my girlfriend just because they don’t approve of our relationship. If you check mate, I never asked for your opinion, I love y/n, and some online hate, that needs to stop otherwise you are not someone I want to be calling themselves a fan of me, needs to stop. It makes no one happy or feel healthy with spreading such toxicity around the internet, if you don’t like something, then keep your blood mouths shut, this has nothing to do with you, it is just me and my girlfriend. I’d think you’d want me to be happy, because I want the same for all of you, so can people please give my partner some respect, she’s done nothing wrong but bravely chose to reach out to you all, and she had that spat back in her face. It’s not on, and I want this to stop now.’

“Tom...” you were shocked by the paragraph, it came across as aggressive, and very over protective. His action, that could affect how he was cried by people that put him on a pedestal, and that made you feel guilty that he had reached out to them in such a way.

“It’s okay baby, I’d do anything for you, and you know that. No one messes with my girl.” He put his arm around your shoulders as he pulled you close placing a kiss upon your forehead. Not only was he your boyfriend, but he was your protector, your knight on a shining cell phone.

[kodzumie-archived]

hi! sorry, i think my request was too specific so lemme rephrase: poly! nagito x reader x kokichi, with a loving and considerate reader -💙

❝SWEETHEART’S CONVEYANCE❞

Synopsis; What are the the antongnistic duo like in a polyamorous relationship with a loving partner?

Featuring; Kokichi Oma x GN! Reader x Nagito Komaeda

Warning(s); Polyamorous, romantic relationship, self-degradation (Nagito), and suppression of vulnerability (Kokichi).

Kodzumie’s Note; Ahh, the original request wasn’t too specific, don’t worry, dear! But thank you for being so considerate! And also, thank you for being my first polyamory request! This request makes me so happy, I felt obligated to do it as soon as possible, hehe. And of course you can be our beloved 💙 anon! I’m so happy to have you with us! <3

➤ KOKICHI OMA & NAGITO KOMAEDA

⤷ Contrary to bystander belief, this relationship would be as boisterous as it is philanthropic; built upon a foundation of veiled compassion.

⤷ Whilst your boyfriends contradict traditional conveyance of affection, there’s no doubt they truly do appreciate you. But neither could compare to the benevolence you’ve granted the duo.

⤷ Albeit in rather old-school conveyance, you persistently seek forms of portrayal for your affections. Whether it be the occasional handwritten notes left beside the plates of breakfast you’d left behind for the two, each expressing your fondness and wishing them a wonderful rest of their day.

⤷ Or even the splurge of gifts for the two, purchasing trinkets you believe they’d enjoy. And, for every dollar spent, it’ll all be worth the million-dollar gleam that brushes upon their eyes.

⤷ Nagito infatuated with the idea that someone would dare spend money on scum like him, much less buy him something they insisted he’d be interested in. It’s a foreign sense, an exotic appreciation in which you’d taken the time out of your schedule to even think of him.

⤷ And as he’s about to spout his gratitude and disbelief upon such devotion to trash such as himself, he’s cut off by the infamous trickster himself.

⤷ “Save that crap. What about me? Where’s my gift? Huh, huh?” Kokichi’s petite stature leaning to the right as he attempts to catch a glimpse of what you could possibly have in store for him.

⤷ Paying no heed to the interruption of his valuation, Nagito smiles fondly as he eyes the amethyst-haired male eagerly bounces on the balls of his heels, awaiting his gift, though impatiently.

⤷ One would assume you’d get fed up at his persistent antics but, in all honesty, it was one of the many things you―along with Nagito―had appreciated.

⤷ Even amidst moments in which the air is stilled, tension doused in the form of metaphoric clouds above your heads, he’s bustling with a rowdiness that shows no hintings of dissipation.

⤷ And as you reveal the gadget hidden behind your back, presenting it to your practically vibrating-in-anticipation boyfriend, you swore not even the stars could capture the illumination of glee that brushed upon his lilac eyes. His hands reaching forward with such fervor that he was seemingly a blur within that very moment.

⤷ “You didn’t!” He professed in disbelief, lips split into a grand smirk as he eyes the gift you’d presented him; a water gun.

⤷ Albeit an inkling of concern swirled within your gut upon his sinister cackle as he testingly aims at Nagito, in which the taller male’s eyes widen in surprise as he raises his hands in surrender―his own gift within his left hand.

⤷ Upon Nagito’s reaction, Kokichi’s cackles morphed into wicked chuckles as he feigns to reload his water gun with imaginative ammo.

⤷ “That’s right, put ‘em up.” He jests. All the while, you rolled your eyes with an amused visage of your own at the sight of your shorter boyfriend’s antics.

⤷ A Pavlovian reaction from the younger male, eagerly jumping the gun—quite literally—and pestering Nagito to engage in his games, claiming he’d be the perfect companion. (Though, by this, it usually meant the perfect individual to carry him piggyback due to his tall stature.)

⤷ Nonetheless, the sight of your boyfriends joining forces against you with the gift you’d bought is undeniably one you cherish. Even as you sprint full speed through the household, dodging the blasts of water aimed towards you.

⤷ Despite Nagito’s persistent insistence that you’d be better suited to entertain Kokichi than a mere nobody like him, the aforementioned amethyst-haired male that assures him he’s the only one capable.

⤷ It isn’t the common occurrence to be of witness to Kokichi’s considerate moments; withdrawing himself from his playful nature to build another’s esteem.

⤷ And thus, it’s even more satisfying to bask in Nagito’s united laughter with Kokichi’s manic cackles as you narrowly avoid a blast of water. The former carrying the ladder on his back—rather easily due to how light Kokichi is—and dashing after you.

⤷ It’s a laugh so carefree—so riddled in unhindered joy—you almost couldn’t believe this was the same, unabashed laugh of your self-degrading boyfriend.

⤷ Not even Kokichi was immune to the flurry of butterflies within the encompass of your stomachs as he, too, smiled giddily upon the melodic laughter, a roseate decorating his pallid cheeks in momentary euphoria.

⤷ In the beginnings of your gifts, Nagito struggled immensly to accept them. Even as he blushed a hue so fiercely—face burning with awe as sweat began to dampen his rosette skin—he insisted he couldn’t accept any gift from someone of your ethereality.

⤷ He swore up and down that he was already taking far too much of you and Kokichi by intruding on the relationship, much less, garner your affections.

⤷ Though, with time, he steadily learned to see past the hindrance of his self-loathing, it was still rather difficult to bear witness to the one who’d claimed both of your hearts to avoid your conveyances due to their poor views of themself.

⤷ Much to your delight, he’s now discovering value within himself as he peers through the lens of you and Kokichi’s combined love. It’s a gradual process but one that you’re more than willing to wait for to see the treasure of Nagito truly loving—if not love—than tolerating himself.

⤷ With every conveyance of your affections, you hope that your love can be transferred to the two, and assist them in melting through the walls of their hindrances; their shields in which they’d desperately hid their vulnerabilities from the world.

⤷ Whether it be through the gifts in which your taller boyfriend would insist that he was undeserving of and promise to return the favor with a gift of his own whilst the shorter would use your gifts against you, similarly to the water gun incident, comically; love letters; domestic care; reassuring consolation; service.

⤷ Anything that could possibly provide insight of the affectiom you’d withheld for the two, you’d committed to with a fiery passion. Not a trace of hesitancy or delay.

⤷ Typically, within the day-to-day, you and Nagito would withhold a majority of the materate responsibilities. Though Nagito eagerly offers to take the workload upon himself entirely, there’s no denying the softening of his eyes as you reject his offer and, rather, offer to take the workload off of him.

⤷ He appreciates your insistence, especially the way you’d put his wellbeing within the realm of priority. A hierarchy he’d never considered himself within, so to think that you could do so much as care for his state is more than he could ever ask for.

⤷ Truth be told, one of Nagito’s favorite domestic activities to complete alongisde you is laundry. The intimacy of being able to sit alongside you and fold the articles of clothing whilst chatting, blissfully distracted, is serene.

⤷ More so, the lighthearted, momentary comedic relief of revealing that your underwear was within his clutches is always a treat. Especially when you’d rapidly swipe the garment with the inklings of embarrassment within your grin.

⤷ Though he does have quite a habit of sniffing the fresh clothing. The extent to which he does so is—by bystander perspective—questionable, but he promises that he merely adores the cleanliness of the warm clothing. (And that even after the garments trip through the washing machine, there still is the lingering of both his lovers’ scents.)

⤷ Kokichi has offered to help at times—though usually with an intentional entirely other than to actually do laundry. The petite, amethyst-haired trickster sedentary between you and Nagito as he sloppily folds the clothes.

⤷ It’s blatant that his mind is elsewhere as he appears less than pleased whilst assisting. Even offering to “spice things up” and tosses a pair of socks at you and Nagito with a wicked giggle.

⤷ Sometimes he’ll even steal some of your—you and Nagito’s—clothes and wear them while working, claiming they make his Ultimate Supreme Leader senses at top-notch. To which Nagito agrees with, mindlessly, as he mumbles something about wanting to appease the wishes of a leader.

⤷ But, of all the domestic activities Kokichi has taken part in—not much but still—he claims that cooking together has to be his favorite.

⤷ Not only because he adores being the taste-tester—of course, as the Ultimate Supreme Leader, he must test it first to assure that it’s adequate for his beloveds—but because he’s enamored with the teamwork; the collaboration.

⤷ Not within a lifetime will Kokichi ever explicitly confess such, but he admires the notion of teamwork. To make a collaborative effort and genuinely place dependence upon one another to reach an end goal... he finds the idea to be so far from the encompass of his will that he adores the conception of it.

⤷ He, himself, struggles with depending on others. Opting for completing everything on his own and taking charge in the form of claiming stake upon the workload.

⤷ So being able to ask of you to grab something and to be able to complete the order asked of him—he’s usually the mixer—it’s euphoric for him. And, along with this, he truly does enjoy cooking.

⤷ Though his skills are rather questionable due to only being able to properly create a selective variety of dishes. But when he does succeed, it’s an absolute delight to be able to taste it. Nagito sometimes claims the dishes to be something akin to that of an Ultimate Chef.

⤷ A love delievered through the swan-sunken eyes of sensuality, fingers brushed upon one another as you go about your daily lives, is a love in which your two lovers value above all. To be cared for even when there are other priorities, it’s empowering.

⤷ However, amidst the serenity of the closest of affections, nothing can counter their equally preferred time of day; the nighttime cuddles.

⤷ Laying atop the mattress that could just about fit the three of you, entangled limbs drawing each of you closer as the warmth of the blanket barely rivals that of your bodies. Each of your breaths rhythmic of one another.

⤷ Kokichi’s form—by his drowsy request—between your bodies as he rests his back against Nagito’s chest, gazing up at you with a rare yet genuine grin riddled with the inklings of slumber.

⤷ The aforementioned male coiling his arms around the waist of your boyfriend, too, has his arm extenting outwards towards you, pulling you into the spooning as well. Much to Kokichi’s delight, the ladder instantaneously latching his legs around your hips, pulling you into his arms.

⤷ Yet the most blissful of these moments in which true adorations lie is the most miniscule of all. It’s so peaceful; such tranquility to be within each other’s arms as each of you is gradually lulled to sleep.

⤷ And yet, it’s as uneventful as it is impactful. Perhaps it was the nights in which each of your boyfriends felt sleep come easier? Perhaps it was the warmth of your collective bodies that brought upon the savory bliss?

⤷ Or perhaps it was the way that as each of them gazed upon—meeting your eyes with each of their infatuated own—there was a fire alit. One in which, after the periods in which you’ve all spent together; learned together; changed together, had never seemed to fade.

⤷ Not even as they, too, know they’re pushing your limits, irritating you to no bounds. Not even as they find their moment sin which they’re far too sluggish to be of decent assistance. Not even during the meltdowns in which they’d shut you out of their heart and recline to their suppressive defense.

⤷ There was never a moment in which the flames of had dwindled; an eternal ember of compassion. Not even throughout the sabotage of their demeanor. And not even as you flutter your eyes shut, enveloping slumber within your embrace.

⤷ The searing of love within your eyes had never faltered and that, on its own, is enough to reign over each of their hearts—assuring them that they, truly, are lovable without condition—and lull them to sleep as well.

[hostess-of-horror]

🎃 Tales of Terror 🎃

[M.B. is my Cadetsona OC, M.J. belongs to @sleepy-heads-blog, Sean and Nyarly belong to @drusb]

---

[Sitting inside a large, makeshift tent, decorated with twinkling lights and soft blankets, M.B., Geek, and M.J. are taking turns telling scary stories for a Halloween-themed sleepover party.]

M.J.: "... and then, when the candles flickered out, there in the darkness appeared the skinless man, crying out, 'Flesh! My flesh! Give me my flesh!'"

[Ending his story, M.J. pauses in his dramatic pose. Geek and M.B. applaud and he bows.]

M.B.: "Wow, lil' dude, I'm impressed! Did you make that up all by yourself?"

M.J.: "Eh... sorta."

Geek: "Of course he didn't. He got that from one of his comics."

[M.J. sticks his tongue out mockingly at Geek. Geek does the same back.]

M.B.: "Either way, it was pretty good."

M.J.: "Your illusions helped make it even scarier. It's like watching our own movies!"

[M.B. swirls her hands, playing with the magical aura that surrounds them.]

M.B.: "I figured it would be a lot of interesting. Plus, I'm a bit of a visual person myself."

Geek: "Alright, M.J.'s had his turn. Now, it's yours, M.B."

M.J.: "Oooh, I know she's got something truly awesome to tell!"

M.B.: "Alright, the story I'm going to tell you is actually one of my own works. I wrote it years ago, but I don't know a lot of it. So, I'll be making stuff up as I go. Okay, here it goes."

[M.B. gathers her hands together and raises them up, projecting another "screen" for Geek and M.J. to watch. M.B. begins her tale.]

M.B.: "A long time ago, there was once a beautiful maiden who lived in a far away country. She was not only beautiful, but she was the most gorgeous woman in her town. People would flaunt to her - friends, family, travelers - to visit her. As much as she adored the attention, it was the suitors she could not handle. Every time a man would meet her, she would dismiss them, for she believed that no one could ever deserve her. The maiden was vain and prideful, not just for her looks but also her upper class status. She would mock the suitors, insult them in every way. To her, she deserves the creme de la creme of life's luxuries and privileges, including partners. One day, the country was swept up by a sudden plague and many lives were taken. The people pleaded for aid to the maiden, but she refused, for she realized that six of her suitors were the ones who were suffering. And so, one by one, they all met a grotesque and grisly fate. When the plague passed, a foreign visitor came into the country. The visitor was a very handsome gentleman, dressed in black, from the same upper class as the maiden was. He was a musician - an opera singer - and the maiden immediately became enamored. Soon, the maiden and the musician grew fond of each other and, at long last, a romance had blossomed. They were so in love with each other that they soon got married. But the maiden's joy was short-lived. After their wedding day, the musician had a surprise for his new wife. He told her to wait for him by their wedding bed, for he had planned something very special for her. She complies, and when she does, darkness suddenly surrounded her. Frightened, she went to open the door, but it was locked! She then went to open the balcony door to escape the dark. Instead of an escape, she is met by a tall, white skeleton, serenading a haunting melody. Surrounding him were six, plague-ridden suitors, all staring down at her with empty eye sockets. She soon realized that she had married Death himself. Death, dressed in black, announced to her that he had come to avenge the souls she had left behind. He places her on the wedding bed and allowed each tortured suitor to take what they find most beautiful. The first took her hands, for he loved how they would gracefully weave and play the harp. The second took her scalp and hair, for he loved how golden it would become under the sunlight. The third took her legs, for he loved seeing her dance. The fourth took her flesh, for he loved how soft and flawless it looked. The fifth took her eyes, for he loved how they would glisten like precious diamonds. The sixth took her heart, for he loved to one day cherish her as his bride for all his days. When morning came, all was left was a mutilated corpse, put on display on the balcony for the whole country to see."

[M.B. ends her story with a ghastly image of the maiden's corpse on the projected screen. She lets it stay still for a moment. Geek and M.J. watch silently. Then the corpse jumps at them, letting out an agonizing, blood-curdling scream. Geek and M.J. jolt back with a yelp. Then the lights suddenly go out! Everyone panics until the lights flicker back on. Laughter erupts from outside their tent. M.J. unfolds the entrance to find Sean and Nyarly laughing at them.]

M.J.: *slightly annoyed* "Uncle Sean! Uncle Nyarly!"

Sean: *mockingly* "Ha ha, gotcha!"

Nyarly: "It was his idea!"

Geek: "How long were you two out there?"

Nyarly: "Oh, for a good few minutes."

Sean: "Yeah, we were just listening in on the story. A woman who gets her body parts taken by the dead? That's kinda sick."

M.B.: "It's an old story of mine. Did kinda change a lot of stuff though."

Geek: "How do you come up with stuff like that?"

M.B.: "Mortal Kombat, slasher films, Crypt TV, and also some history lessons. You know, that kind of stuff."

Nyarly: "Well, I hope you guys are finished, because we just made some Rice Krispy S'mores! Don't wanna waste any of them, so help yourselves."

[Geek and M.J. climb out of the tent and M.B. follows behind to the kitchen.]

M.J.: "Hey, Miss M.B.? I don't know if this is intentional, but I've noticed a bit of a theme to your stories."

M.B.: "Hm?"

M.J.: "Well, they're very romantic. Despite having some scary stuff in them, they all have this very... um... well, romantic vibe to them."

M.B.: "Well, admittedly, it is kinda on brand with what I'm into. I mean, hell, I like to watch Dracula films, listening to love songs written by London After Midnight and The Mission, and my favorite fairy tale is Beauty and the Beast."

Geek: "Wow, how very Goth of you, M.B. Does this also mean you like blood red roses too?"

M.B.: "Come on, Geek, I'm not that predictab-- oh fine, yes, I do." *jokingly* "To add to that, I also like long walks in the graveyard."

Geek: "Mm-hm, I thought so."

M.J.: "Sure, it's predictable, but it's pretty cool! It's not every day we get to meet someone like you. And that's coming from someone who has an eldritch being as an uncle."

M.B.: *chuckles and pats his head* "Thanks, lil dude."

[zuzuslastbraincell]

mai & the rest of the gaang:

mai & aang: a bit awkward, at first? not on aang's end of course, he's totally unflustered and in fact quite keen to get to know zuko's girlfriend and I actually think mai doesn't know what to do with this attitude, given she spent six months or so trying to hunt him down, and that's very present in her mind. hanging out with aang is a very pleasant culture shock in how he casually diaregards half the norms she was raised to strictly follow, speaking with warm enthusiasm and genuine curiosity to all, be they dish washers or tea servers or the Fire Lord's girlfriend, disregarding barriers of social class that are so carefully upheld in the Fire Nation. It's refreshing as it is bewildering. I think mai does develop a fondness for aang - although she can find him and his antics a bit much at times - and deeply respects and cares for him if only for how valued his friendship with zuko is. she claims to tolerate his goofy antics but she enjoys them far more than she lets on (his flying marble trick does elicit a rare smile, although it only appears for 0.02 seconds before returning to the most deadpan expression). I think mai respects him most politically actually - aang grows up to be an excellent diplomat, an excellent mediator who does not lose sight of the importance of various different perspectives, especially those who are forgotten or maligned, even when in circles of power.

mai & sokka: as discussed, they have a rocky start. sokka, my darling beloved sokka, has a tendency to be a bit abrasive, if we're honest, in that his humour and his puns are a little in-your-face, he has a bit of an ego aboht being the funniest/smartest person in the room, and he can take it personally when people don't like it. mai doesn't have much time for that. mai doesn't care much for sokka's jokes if only because they're attached to this ego, but also and finds the puns a bit flat (whereas she finds aang's mischief making genuinely funny, though she tries to hide it), and sokka takes this deeply personally and tries really hard to elicit a laugh from her. this just ends up with him aggravating her more. I think mai has little time for sensitive male ego games and that's partially why her and sokka clash- she won't blunt herself for him, even if he is one of zuko's closest friends. I think sokka, to his credit, doesn't dismiss her as a 'bitch' and keeps trying - in fact, the reason he comes on so strong is because he actually really wants her to like her - and i think that's because of boiling rock, and because of that alone sokka deeply respects mai on many levels (and was extremely surprised by how all that played out, and knows from that alone that mai is a layered and complex person who contains multitudes). I think what might cause mai to warm to him is politics - sokka's a pragmatist, who is skeptical of idealism without material backing and is refreshingly realistic for one of aang's friends. he keeps the fire nation on its toes at the negotiating table but he's also the first to point out when a potential proposition - when anyone's potential proposition - has more logical holes than a piece of honeycomb. i think mai appreciates that perspective. and i think they could slowly and gradually go from personality clashing to building this begrudging friendship where mai will never openly admit that she likes him, where sokka will still grate but in a way that becomes almost familiar and comfortable because of that, and where - especially in a situation where they have to work on a project together - they're a formidable team. a difficult friendship but eventually could be a dear one.

mai & katara: another personality clash that becomes a really fascinating friendship. katara wasn't there for boiling rock and is perhaps a bit cool towards mai even understanding what she did there, and the grounds where they most often meet is politics, and they largely are at odds there too. they're interesting parallels, in terms of role - both partners of powerful world leaders, but while mai positions herself as a vital support and power behind zuko's regime, furthering that goal, katara loathes to be associated with aang simply because of their romantic relationship, and does not envision their relationship to be a political one: aang and katara stand independent, but with shared values and goals (and perhaps katara simply does not understand why mai takes the position she does regarding politics and relationships). their actual political approach wildly differs, with katara being an impassioned idealist who is the most radical out of the gaang, whereas mai is a pragmatist - much more concerned about the feasibility of the radical ideas proposed and sees herself occupying the role of a much needed skeptic who asks 'okay, but how are we going to do this?' in a group of radicals. this does lead to some fierce clashes actually - some of katara's proposals appear outlandish to mai, and katara interprets this as fire nation indoctrination and ideological conditioning limiting her perspective (and honestly neither are completely wrong - mai can be on occasion perhaps too conservative and cynical and that is often because her upbringing has limited her scope, and katara sometimes isn't fully aware of how feasible her ideas are and leaves practical concerns to others). I think despite this they have such a deep respect for each other - and that's in part why their arguments are so impassioned, because they both fundamentally know the other comes from a good place. mai saved katara's brother's life at boiling rock, and katara saved mai's partner during the final agni kai - they have both proven to each other the extent of their commitment and cared for another they care about deeply. they're the biggest idealism vs. cynicism clash but honestly over time i think the respect only grows over time despite periods of hot and cold. I'd like to think if katara ever has relationship difficulties with aang, after her gran's, it's mai whose advice she might respect the most - after all, it's mai who understands what it's like to date someone who is a world leader, and mai absolutely believes in having firm, healthy boundaries and little tolerance for sufferring for men in relationships. I think given their positions they're often in dialogue and in conversation and end up building the most unexpected but also rock solid friendship. they *would* take a bullet for each other, i am sure of it.

mai & toph: i love these two. an incredible friendship. mai takes to toph the quickest out of aang's friends. it makes sense - toph comes from a similar class and upbringing as mai, albeit has taken a different life path and expresses herself completely differently, and i think while surprised and thrown at first by toph's bluntness, mai sees that and not only respects but honestly just loves how toph is a little crass, and doesn't hold decorum as the be all and end all. I think the age difference here actually makes a difference - mai very much sees toph as a younger peer (and eventually, much like zuko, a younger sibling), and while it can be sad to see someone from a younger generation express themselves freely in a way that mai feel she can't, i think her joy at seeing that takes precedence here over any mixed feelings. mai pretends not to be amused at toph's antics (but quietly delights at them) and absolutely is the person who will get the authorities that be in the fire nation to look away from whatever misdemeanours she's committing at any given time (indeed, mai as often been a partner in crime - actually, speaking of, she's been surprised before to see katara also partake with toph, and it was an ice-breaking moment for them, probably one engineered by toph). that said, mai absolutely does not patronise toph, gives it to her straight, will also tell toph when she's going too far or pushing the limit, something toph deeply respects and values. mai can see toph's wisdom and her strong intuitive understanding of how others feel, and admires that, as well as the kindness toph shows (i would not be surprised if mai looks at toph and wants to be a little more like her). I also think mai's sardonic and biting sense of humour is best appreciated by toph out of aang's friends (sokka also finds it very funny, but sokka is also trying hard to get mai to like him, as aforementioned). mai and toph vibe together *so hard* and *so well* (something i think zuko is quietly deeply grateful for, since mai hasn't clicked as well with the rest of the gaang, but also because he views toph like a little sister too).

mai & suki: right! so this one is complicated. mai does not see suki as often as the rest of the gaang - she sees katara and aang often for political reasons, at summits and keets and so on, sokka keeps in touch often and is constantly sending letters, and toph will just turn up unannounced and will stay for several weeks to "relandscape" the fire nation gardens (so she claims) every year or so. I am sticking to show canon here but reject the comics canon - there is no way in hell suki ends up as a bodyguard for zuko, the kyoshi warriors have better things to be doing. so! while mai absolutely saved the teal at boiling rock and suki knows this, the fact that they see each other relatively little mean things are a bit... cool between them? Not quite cold, but there's a degree of awkwardness that mai works past with the others that takes longer with suki. I honestly don't know if suki knows how she should feel about mai? like ty lee not only helped at boiling rock but then went on to work with the warriors and suki very much sees someone who wants to prove herself and right those wrongs in ty lee (as well as someone who is running away but. that's another post). mai completed step 1 and 2 with boiling rock, but hasn't... done anything after that. and on paper they're cool and she knows it but... idk if she knows how to feel? it's a bit weird. a bit awkward and weird. it's possible suki holds more of a grudge than she's willing to admit (she's been most directly wronged by mai and ty lee after all) and the fact that mai has returned to the fire nation, and been, according to katara, disappointingly conservative at times, makes her question what boiling rock meant. suki is cordial and professional around mai but doesn't really know her that well and doesn't trust her as much as the others. mai doesn't particularly care either way and will take or leave friendship with suki (though mai, to be clear, does respect suki immensely as a warrior). the key factor here is ty lee, honestly. i think the two of them could have an excellent relationship if so inclined but it would apmost definitely be due to ty lee trying to prod them into getting along and hanging out and getting to know each other - because i think they're both practical minded, no-nonsense girls who are exceptionally skilled in martial arts and if nothing else they could bond theough sparring sessions, but i think they'd also just get along splendidly if they had the chance. suki just doesn't quite trust mai and mai making those personal amends isn't a priority when she's trying to stop zuko running the fire nation into the ground.

[miraculousluvbug]

WINGLESS | Ch. 5

***New to Wingless? Start at Chapter 1!

CH. SUMMARY: Plagg panics because Lila's the devil incarnate and Lila learns that Gabriel Agreste is far stupider than he seems.

Adrien fondly flicked through the pages of The Pun-thagorean Theorem (Making Math Funny!) textbook. Plumes of dust wafted up his nostrils, causing his eyes to squint and his mouth to contort into the longest face known to man to avoid a hacking fit, but he smiled afterward nonetheless. The book was withered beyond measure, sure, but within its decaying jacket, it held the fleeting whispers of a previous life. A life before his mother went missing. When she enjoyed teaching him math with puns and pieces of candy while his father clung to the confines of closed doors. When her jokes graced the halls and her smiles left behind a fog of golden joy in her wake.

Adrien’s heart thudded with longing.

But he was determined to push back the feelings he had kept buried deep, deep, deep within his heart. So deep that he often forgot they were even there until they reared their ugly heads like a Hydra from the deepest recesses of the sea. Every time he thought he dealt with it, thought he had cut off its head and could breathe for just a second, two heads sprouted in its stead, determined to grip him by the ankles with their jagged teeth and force him to drown in his debilitating lack of self-worth.

He shook his head violently, as if that could shed him of his intrusive thoughts.

Hopefully, this book would help Lila. And then she’d leave. And then he could skip the anime and just take a fat nap. Keeping the Hydra at bay was exhausting.

Correcting his posture, Adrien approached his classmate, noticing straight away she had moved to his desk chair. Odd. But he was willing to roll with it.

Ha. Get it? Desk chair. Roll with it.

He pursed his lips, trying to hold back his laughter at himself.

Kagami had called him a clown, but Ladybug, as it turned out, appreciated his sense of humor. And if Lady-friggin’-bug--Commander of Wit and Creative Mastermind--thought he was funny, he must have been a damn comedic prodigy.

Plagg recognized that love-struck look on Adrien’s face and had to physically restrain himself from making barf noises.

“Are you ready to start, Lila?” Adrien said. Oblivious to Adrien’s whereabouts, Lila started and spun to greet him. (Was he always that quiet on his feet?)

“Adrien! You found the book.”

“Yep! Why don’t you take a look at it before we start?” Adrien smiled as he passed the book to her.

Lila returned the smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Adrien idly wondered if she had ever meant a smile in her life. She pinched the book between her thumb and forefinger as if it were a moldy sock. “Wow, Adrien, this book is so . . .”

A silence lingered as Lila racked her vocabulary for a word less insulting than crusty.

“Old?” Adrien offered, tilting his head.

Lila tittered unenthusiastically. “Yes, old.” She draped the book onto Adrien’s desk and poked at it. “How long have you, um, had it?”

“It’s been in the family a while.” Adrien hesitated. He didn’t really want to mention his mother to Lila. Lila was poisonous. She spun every piece of information she caught into a sticky web of lies like it was second nature. He didn’t know if he could stomach hearing lies about his mother.

So he bit down on the story of his mom before it could tumble from his lips. Even though he so badly wanted to tell anyone who would listen. His father never afforded him the opportunity to speak about her. His friends at school avoided the topic like the plague.

Come to think of it, Marinette was the only one of his friends who tried to help him see her movie that fateful day the press tried to pass her as his girlfriend. (Which he wouldn’t have minded, honestly, but she always seemed hellbent on them being just friends, so he accepted it.)

Ladybug, the other important person in his life, saw his mother on his desktop during that one akuma attack and commented on her smile. Those two girls (er--women? Which term was more respectful?) were the only people he truly felt safe around. Safe enough to turn his back on the Hydra he always kept a watchful, tired eye on and just enjoy the breeze of the ocean as it caressed his cheeks and messed up his perfect hair.

No, the subject of his mother wouldn’t scare them away. They could handle it.

But Lila was no Ladybug, and she definitely was no Marinette.

Behind them, Plagg was practically pulling his antennae out. It had been at least eight, maybe ten minutes since the akuma alert and his kid was none the wiser. And it really didn’t help that he just saw Ladybug and Rena Rouge pass by Adrien’s gigantic glass wall in a blur of red and orange.

But it was hopeless! He couldn’t get the message to Adrien without being seen!

Or . . .

Or could he?

“‘What’s Pythagoras’ favorite instrument?’” Lila read aloud. Her eyes darted over to the blonde leaning against the desk beside her. He bit his lip and his eyes were doing something weird. She had never seen that emotion on him.

“Go on,” Adrien pushed, his eyes practically sparkling. Huh. Was that emotion . . . eagerness?

She cleared her throat and turned the book upside down to read the answer awaiting her at the bottom of the page.

“‘A triangle.’”

Adrien giggled. What he wanted to do was slap his knee and let the whole world know he found it funny with a booming laughter that rivaled Tom Dupain-Cheng’s, but he knew that was un-gentlemanly.

Lila quirked an eyebrow.

Adrien sobered immediately. “You know,” he tried. “Since a triangle is an instrument and the theorem is about right triangles.”

Lila’s stare was unrelenting.

Adrien coughed. “So the triangle is his . . . favorite instrument.”

Lila stared for a bit longer than necessary before letting out a glaringly obvious fake laugh. Adrien was more offended that she thought that laugh was believable than that she didn’t find the pun funny at all. “Ha. That’s, like, so funny, Adrien. I can tell already that this book is going to be a big help.”

Adrien’s shoulders drooped a little. He hadn’t expected her to fall to the ground in ceaseless mirth, but he hadn’t thought her to be such a brick wall either. “Right. Well, why don’t we start with number one? Do you have your notebook or do you need a spare piece of pap--?”

The sound of the television coming to life cut Adrien’s question short. Lila’s eyes bulged out of her head and the sight would have been comical had it not also meant that Plagg was being a nuisance. Again.

But honestly, when was he not?

Lila burst from her seat and sprinted to the television. “Were you standing on the remote or something?” Lila queried, her voice high-pitched and grating to Adrien’s ears.

Adrien scratched the back of his neck. Think, think, think . . .

“Um, my room is haunted?”

Lila gawked at him wordlessly, gripping the back of his sofa. “You posted something about that on Instagram, but I thought you were, I don’t know? Making it up?”

Because you would be an expert on that, right, Lila?

Adrien plucked the remote from the coffee table and pointed it at the television, his thumb barely brushing the power button when the words from the newscaster reached his ears and sent chills down his spine.

“New akuma . . .”

“Ladybug and Rena Rouge on the scene . . .”

“Chat Noir yet to be spotted . . .”

Adrien’s heart skipped a beat. Furrowing his brow, he ran to his phone and ogled its empty notification list. Why hadn’t he received an akuma alert? Was the Ladyblog acting buggy?

Adrien had to come up with an alibi and fast. Lie like the wind, Bullseye.

He scooped up his cherished pun textbook and shepherded Lila to his bedroom door despite her protests. “I’m so sorry, Lila! I, uh, just remembered I have to practice piano for an extra hour today.” The television droned on about the deadly, unstoppable, mind-controlling, threateningly large, new akuma behind him. The hair on Adrien’s neck stood up with every added adjective.

“You’re not seriously sending me out into the city where the akuma is?” Lila exclaimed.

Oh. The thought hadn’t occurred to him.

“Um, sorry, Lila, but I’m sure you’ll be fine! You’re Ladybug’s best friend, right? She’d never let anything happen to you.” Adrien smirked inwardly at that. Lila was failing miserably at hiding her disgust for his spotted partner when he shut the door--politely--in her face.

Quickly, he propped up his phone on the piano and navigated to his voice memo app.

“I deserve extra cheese,” Plagg drawled, hovering to the side of Adrien.

“For nearly exposing yourself to Lila?” Adrien remarked bitterly.

Plagg narrowed his eyes. “No, for figuring out how to get your attention when Lila was clearly undermining you!”

Adrien stopped dead in his tracks. His finger hovered above his latest piano recording while his mind raced. “What do you mean, Plagg? I didn’t get an akuma alert. That’s not her fault.”

Plagg scoffed. “Uh, you did get an akuma alert. That--that menace got rid of it!” Plagg folded his arms across his chest, clearly much angrier than he would ever admit. “She got rid of the notification so you wouldn’t see. Even when she doesn’t know she’s doing it, she’s sabotaging Ladybug! You can’t let her in your room anymore, Adrien.”

Adrien stiffened. So Lila was far worse than he gave her credit for. He wouldn’t underestimate her again. Harmless snooping, he could live with. Interfering with him protecting his lady? Unforgivable. She did that when he was Chat Noir and he thought he had learned his lesson.

Apparently not.

“We’ll talk about this more later, Plagg,” Adrien finally decided. A moment later, the soft melody of a piano piece danced around the room. His eyes wandered to the whiteboard on his wall that had twelve tally marks souring its otherwise pristine surface. Plagg followed his gaze and looked back at his kid with a frown and drooping brows, tail and antennae betraying his melancholy.

Adrien pointedly ignored Plagg’s Pity™ look. “Ladybug’s already cleansed an akuma twelve times without needing my help. Let’s not let there be a thirteenth. Claws out!”

Meanwhile, from the other side of Adrien’s door, Lila simmered, jaw clenched, mouth dry. She didn’t have an inkling why Adrien had concocted such a ridiculous excuse, but she was ninety percent sure it had something to do with Ladybug.

It always came back to that impudent roach.

Lila dragged her feet all the way to the main staircase with every intention to vacate the Agreste premises, but a quick sweep of the mainroom revealed the bodyguard was nowhere to be seen. And interestingly enough, neither was that dreadfully stoic assistant Adrien was so fond of. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen her when she first entered.

Empty. The room was deliciously empty.

And Lila had never seen the inside of Gabriel’s office.

Smirking, she decided she would have to correct that.

Just in case she got caught, Lila inconspicuously flitted around the room in an attempt to appear like she wasn’t on a mission. She fawned over trinkets and leisurely “admired” the boring paintings accosting the walls before her twitching fingers rested on the door handle.

She waited with an ear pressed against the wood. Silence had never tasted sweeter.

The room was . . . well, it left something to be desired.

Wasn’t Gabriel supposed to be a fashion icon?

His interior design made her want to gouge out her eyes with a plastic spork.

Lila gingerly let the door fall into place behind her, the hinges creaking only slightly (a billionaire or whatever he was could afford to professionally oil his door, she assumed) before her feet carried her to a mustard yellow tapestry. The woman adorning it she recognized was Adrien’s mother. The photos of Adrien to her right were all edited from photoshoots. Perfect. Unblemished.

Lila supposed she could overlook Adrien’s pitiful sense of humor. Adrien was still great eye candy, and his reputation made him an even tastier prize.

The scent of cologne and disinfectant mingled, battling each other for dominance and the result was only a bit nauseating. Orange light seeped in from the windows, the tendrils of luminance touching everything in the room but the wall with the tapestry. It was golden hour apparently.

Unable to help herself, Lila brushed her fingers along the edges of Gabriel’s touchscreen, searching, searching. Ah. There. A ridge. A power button, perhaps? With the tip of her fingernail, she pressed it and . . .

Of course, the thing would be password protected.

Maybe Adrien’s birthday?

Wait. Did she even know Adrien’s birthday?

Lila shrugged and turned on her heel. She was curious, but odds were she would never be able to guess Monsieur Agreste’s password. Unless . . .

Slowly pivoting to face the screen again, she tried typing something crazy and, albeit, a little stupid.

There was just no way. It was a waste of time to even try.

She tapped a green enter button.

The waiting screen consisted of the outline of a butterfly slowly being filled in and then repeating. Interesting. She wouldn’t have pegged Gabriel to be a butterfly guy. But if she thought about it really, reeeeally hard, she could just barely recall a few designs Adrien had modeled that sported a butterfly-like logo.

But whatever. This butterfly waiting screen meant nothing. There was still no way.

There was absolutely no way the password to the great fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste’s personal computer was “password.”

Was there?

She idly tapped her nails on the screen, the clack-clack-clack echoing around her in the frustratingly barren room. The anticipation ate away at her until . . .

Bingo. The screen unlocked, and the light shining on Lila transitioned from the black of the waiting screen to the blue of a schematic.

Lila snorted. “Seriously? I’m no Max but even I know that’s the most brainless password known to man.”

Closer inspection led to a fascinating revelation. The schematic wasn’t actually for a building or even a design. There were photos of her classmates and their . . .

Their hero personas? Interesting. Could he have been planning a Superhero line? How did he even find out their identities?

Wow, there was Nino as Carapace and that one girl Kagami as Ryuko. Max as some horse-looking hero she honestly had never seen in her life. Kim as a monkey. Unsurprising. Some guy with blue highlights who she’d only seen around Marinette. And Alya . . . as Rena Rouge.

Lila clenched her fists. Her nails left indentations in her palms.

She didn’t have time to stew over this infuriating morsel of information, however, before the floor beneath her began to tremble. Wasting no time, she sprinted to the middle of the room and was surprised to find the floor now still. Had she imagined the earth quaking?

What sounded like mechanical whirring had her spinning on her heel to face the painting. Her jaw dropped to the floor at the sight of a hole in the previously-unmarred tile. From the dark pit rose one bonafide, Barney-colored supervillain, his back facing her.

“Nooroo, dark wings fall.”

Instantly, a waterfall of purple and white glitter illuminated the room. The light was so intense, Lila had to lift her arms and shield her retinas. Her heart thudded wildly against her ribcage.

Any sane person would have run away at the sight of a supervillain in their classmate’s mansion.

But not Lila.

Lila quite liked Hawk Moth. She more than shared his distaste for the superhero duo and was overjoyed whenever he graced her with the opportunity to fight them as an akuma.

She was even more overjoyed to find out her boss and Hawk Moth were not just cut from the same cloth . . .

They were the same cloth.

The man otherwise known as Gabriel Agreste stood before her, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

His shoulders were hunched up to his ears as he grumbled, “Blasted children. I’ll get your Miraculous one of these days--”

“Um, Master?” a tiny voice interrupted.

Lila had never seen such a thing. Was that a bug? A fairy?

“What is it, Nooroo?”

Upon Nooroo’s silence, Gabriel turned around and was incapable of hiding the shock on his face when he found Lila Rossi trespassing in his office.

“How much did you see?” he demanded, scowling.

Lila tittered behind her hand. “Even if I hadn’t seen everything, Hawk Moth, I’d still be asking you what on Earth that thing is.” She jabbed a manicured finger at Nooroo.

Upon seeing his computer on and unlocked, Gabriel lifted his chin and sneered at the fifteen year old girl who had evidently outsmarted him.

Understanding, Lila shook her head. “You really are a boomer,” she mused. “‘Password’ is the least intelligent password you could have picked.”

“I thought it was clever, Master,” Nooroo meekly added.

Desperate to get control of the situation, Gabriel folded his hands behind his back and stood until he was at his full height. “So now you know.” He dared not move from higher ground. “I can’t imagine you thought it’d be smart to confront an adult man who’s shown he has nothing to lose.”

Lila raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have, like, a son?”

Gabriel’s gaze was unrelenting.

Lila almost pitied the oblivious blonde boy. “Whatever. I just wanted to snoop around your office. I couldn’t have possibly dreamed a juicier secret. Paris’s beloved and esteemed fashion designer doubling as its masked terrorist?”

Gabriel bristled.

Feigning nonchalance, Lila perched upon one of Gabriel’s long purple benches and crossed one leg over the other before leaning an elbow on her knee and resting her cheek in her palm. Mischief twinkled in her eyes. “Scandalous.”

“I could make your life a living hell, young lady,” Gabriel began, but Lila held up a hand, halting him in his tracks.

“No need to get defensive, Monsieur. You have nothing to fear from me.” Lila stood then and crossed the room to stand on equal footing with Gabriel. While the top of her head was far beneath the man she addressed, her confidence made her a formidable contender. She leaned forward and peered up at him. “In fact, I want to help.”

Gabriel’s fingers twitched. He knew she liked getting akumatized, but this was unexpected. His initial reaction was to shut it down. This should have never happened. He had to ensure her silence but keep her far from involved.

His curiosity, however, got the better of him. He was a businessman at heart, after all.

“Help how?” he pressed.

Lila smiled crookedly.

Hook.

“You’ve akumatized me before and we’ve caused great chaos together.” Lila fiddled with one of her foxtails as she circled Gabriel. “Can you imagine if we actually strategized an akuma?”

“Are you implying my previous akuma were unplanned?”

Line.

“Not at all!” Lila mended, already sensing that Gabriel’s pride was a sore spot. “But you catch your victims when they’re unhinged, laden with their own emotions. How many times has an akuma put their own needs before yours?”

Lila turned her back on Gabriel then and moseyed toward the benches once more. She let her hand trail along the fabric of the cushions, waiting for him to take the bait . . .

“I’m listening.”

Sinker.

“What if your akuma’s goals were aligned with yours? Everything would be calculated. Predisposed. And--” Lila couldn’t prevent the smile from bleeding into her voice “--I’ve never had a sentimonster assist me before.” Lila stopped moving but remained facing the window. The sun was nearly set now.

Heels clacked against the tile. Approaching. Lila steeled herself.

“I don’t suppose you’ll join my assistant and I out in the gardens, Mademoiselle Rossi?”

Lila grinned from ear to ear. Oh, she could just imagine the taste of Ladybug’s fear when she loomed over her, fingers pinching her earrings and just ripping them from her lobes. Would the joy blooming in her heart be overwhelming, like a banana overpowering the flavors in a smoothie? Or would it slide down her throat like her mother’s hot chocolate? Rich, creamy, satisfying, and scalding all at the same time . . . but faintly nipping at her vocal cords from the traces of cinnamon?

Was it unbecoming to hope Ladybug’s ears would bleed?

“I would love to.”

Unbecoming or not, it was her greatest desire, from both the deepest and shallowest crevices of her soul.

-----

I just released Chapter 7 over on AO3, so if you're itching for more, go check it out here and leave me some love in the comments. Comments are jet fuel for my creativity 🥰 Follow me for updates and check out my Instagram where I post art!

(5/?) Previous | Next

[blueposthings]

Tell The World (Reader x Peter Parker)

Warnings: Language

Word count: 1.1k+

Being an Avenger at your young age pretty much came in a package with being Peter Parker’s best friend. When you moved from your parents’ house in DC to the Avengers Compound in New York, Tony and Steve convinced you to be Peter’s patrol buddy whenever you were free. They said it was so you could bond, but you already went to the same school with Peter and hung out with him and his friends. It was obvious to you and Peter it was really so you could babysit each other; make sure no one ends up dead. At first, you were opposed to the idea but after a few weeks, you’ve learnt that Peter was actually a joy to be around and that’s how you two ended up where you are now.

Sitting on the ledge of an apartment building with a croissant on your hands and a sandwich on Peter’s, you listened to Peter ramble about the Lego set he just purchased.

“-and it’s life sized! It’s even longer than my whole arm. I think I might take it to the lab, tweak it a little bit, see if I can make it light up like an actual lightsaber.” The bottom half of his face was uncovered and between his chewing and talking, Peter didn’t let his mouth rest. “Ned is going to be so jealous. Wait until he knows about-”

Just then, the police scanner sitting in between you and the boy let out a familiar static buzz.

“We’ve got a 211A on the corner of South and Main. At least three suspects, all armed-”

“Damn,” you grumbled as you picked up your mask, “I’m not even finished with my croissant yet.”

Peter chuckled as he himself tossed his sandwich aside and fixed the position of his own face covering. “Maybe you should tell the burglars to be more mindful of your dinner schedule next time.”

“Haha, very funny.” You adjusted the gloves on your hands as you got up from your seat, waiting for your friend to finish getting ready. 

You were about to jump off the roof when Peter gasped, catching your attention. “Hold on! Wait!”

“What?”

He fished out his phone from the black backpack sitting beside the ledge you were on. “I promised my fans I’m going to do a livestream tonight.”

Most of your face was covered but you were sure your incredulous expression was perfectly conveyed. “Your fans?”

“Yeah! I have an Instagram account now, remember?” He shrugged as he typed on his phone.

“For Spiderman?”

Peter hummed in confirmation.

You shook your head in disbelief and amusement. “You really are something else, Parker.”

“Okay,” he shot you a look. “Remember to not call me by my actual name?”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his needless concern. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Just hurry it up, would ya?”

You heard a chuckle from the boy before he finally put his phone against his torso, just below where his Spiderman emblem is embedded on his suit, attaching the device with his webs.

“Wow. Seriously?” You remarked again.

“What? Improvise, adapt, overcome.” He said with a tint of smirk on his tone. “I’m not gonna hold my phone while I swing, that’s like texting while driving!” With that he pushed himself off the ledge, catching his own body midair as he put his web shooters to use.

You could only shake your head at your friend’s antics before following suit, your powers keeping you from falling to the ground below.

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

It was a pretty quick save, the burglars were amateurs and nervous. You and Peter took your sweet time in taking them down though, it was always fun to mess with some criminals every now and then (because between me and you, the Avengers are not always the best people to play pranks on).

By the time the police arrived, the culprits were already safely apprehended and all that was left to do for them was take the men to custody. Your partner was talking to one of the officers as you finished giving your own statement to another and you decided to check your phone -thank Stark for giving you pockets on your suit. 

Your eyebrows creased in confusion when you saw 12 missed calls from MJ, 7 from Ned, and almost fifty text messages from the both of them. 

Ne(r)d: please tell me ure w peter

Ne(r)d: oh my god this cant be happening

Ne(r)d: Y/N ANSWER MY CALLS PLEASE

MJ♕: beat peter’s ass for me

MJ♕: how is it possible for one to be so stupid

MJ♕: y/n 

MJ♕: y/n i dont like phone calls u know that

MJ♕: but please just once, answer me bitch

You were about to call MJ back when you finally saw a notification that wasn’t from either of your friends.

Instagram

[y/n__] pparker108 started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

“Oh shit.” You muttered under your breath, staring at your screen.

“What? What is it?” You heard a familiar voice approaching you. “Everything alright?”

You felt like your eyes were about to pop out when you turned. Your gaze immediately going to the cellphone still plastered to Peter’s suit, feeling the stare of the camera on you. Your arm shot up in a pointless attempt of covering the camera and ending the stream.

Peter opened his mouth to question you but you beat him to it by coming close to his figure and whispering in his ear harshly, “you went live on the wrong account, stupid.”

The mechanical eyes of his suit’s mask widen almost comically. He ripped off the phone on his chest and ended the livestream with a quick press of a button. At this point, his hands were trembling and you could see his jaw was slack opened beneath the mask.

“I- wh- h-” Peter stuttered, his brain was going into overdrive and you don’t know whether to feel bad or laugh your ass off.

You still haven’t decided either when the phone on Peter’s hand buzzed to life. The screen showed a picture of possibly the last person Peter would want to talk to at the moment. You didn’t think it was possible but his eyes went even wider as his head shot up to look at you, silently begging for your help.

You cringed in sympathy before slowly backing away. “Good luck?” 

“I- wha- you can’t leave me to deal with this alone!” The phone was still intensely buzzing against the skin of his palm. 

You ignored him and instead turned your body around, making the boy groan in exasperation.

He finally slid the answer button of his phone. With a nervous waver in his voice he answered “hi, Mr. Stark-”

You snickered. Gathering your powers to lift you off the ground, you left your friend on the sidewalk of the grocery store hoping that the abomination people call pigeons haven’t finished your dinner yet.

[blushing-starker]

don't expect that line I previously mentioned because I'm chaotic and forgot about @starkerfestivals amazing omegaverse week since it goes hand in hand with finals and my brain only fit one of these events in my mental planner

Today's theme is heat/rut and it's slightly nff, has some sexual teasing but nothing too explicit. I'd rate this teen, is all I'm saying. I apologize for any writing mistakes, I'm finishing this at 11pm before collapsing in my bed.

Tagging @vaguekiwi cuz I mentioned this to her today

Needy little alpha

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

Tony wakes up to a purring alpha throwing himself on top of his defenseless body with the force of a freight train driven by a drunk man on drugs. Peter's been told a thousand times before how yes, he may be as heavy as a goddamn feather, but it still aches when that super strength plops down and refuses to let the victim's lungs function adequately. But his boyfriend is a sadist who loves cuddles and making Tony suffer.

"No."

"You love my cuddles," it's true, they bring him pain and purple bruises everywhere but there's nothing quite as soothing as a content alpha kneading like a kitten at his chest, " and you know it. "

"Uh, that's false. Never said I love cuddles. I tolerate your octopus habits, there's a difference." Peter leans back with a pout and teary eyes, wobbles that God forsaken bottom lip like he always does whenever Tony denies the kid something and presents a challenge.

Nimble fingers slide up into, unfortunately, silver hair and nonononono that's unfair. He snarls, tries to infuse the air with as many displeased pheromones as possible so Peter can take a hint when nails scratch right above his nape and Tony's done. Unravels at this hobgoblin's feet and he's half way sure his soul goes out in a huff as little circles are pressed into the exact spot that causes him so much neck pain.

Peter unashamedly preens when Tony melts into their bed and starts pawing at him for more cuddles. "Say you love my cuddles and I won't leave the bed for an hour. Throw in a kiss and I'll rub your back."

He hates(loves) this kid. Hates(loves) how he sing songs as soon as the situation doesn't favour the actually responsible adult in the relationship. Hates(loves) the way Peter never misses the places that leave him sinking into fluffy pillows. Hates how, oh that's nice.

There are tiny kisses littered on a chest glowing blue, small indentations from teasing lips pressed into spread arms and cold hands.

"Ruts gotten you needy, huh, little alpha?" Not that this one was any different from all the other ruts they've shared since dating. Tony secretly adores Peter like this, extra affectionate the minute his shyness and fear of outside criticism is washed away, replaced with the need to shower his omega in love and attention. Yes, Peter has his heart 365 days of the year. Yes, he'd die for his tiny spiderling no matter what.

But this is just really nice, ok? Previous lovers were rarely alphas so this ritual of gluing their bodies together when rut came was an added benefit to being with Peter. That and the hormones he let out while happy soothed Tony to no end.

Peter nips at his finger, still a bit too early on for him to accept the nicknames. He blushes though, a pale pink highlighting a face much more lovely than the cherubs painted on the cathedrals of Rome. Jesus, he's whipped and all they've done is cuddle.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

"I love your cuddles. Cherish them. Want them every day for the rest of my life. But I love you, my needy little alpha with a fantastic," there's a pillow smashed against his face.

"If you say dick, I'm climbing down to wrestle Bucky and I won't let Karen record it for your spank bank. " Oh, that's a low blow.

He relaxes, let's Peter sink into him with a startled yelp, rolls them over, sits on the kid's lap and clamps his knees around a trim waist. Peter may be Spider-Man, but he's Tony Stark and Tony Stark doesn't lose in bed.

Well. Not unless he wants to.

"You do that and you can say hello to your toy, the one I know is stashed in your old room under the bed in a comic book box, because that'll be the only thing helping you out when the rut really hits." Will Tony suffer immensely if that happens? Yes. He's a sucker for a needy Peter being ridiculously horny and possessive. Thing is, you don't threaten a man's spank bank. No sir. Everything else is fair play. His carefully organized folders of viewing material are not to be messed with.

Peter's blush is on full blast, spreads over a long neck and absolutely delicious, no. Be strong, Tony.

"You know about the toy?" It's a squeak, normal voice rocketing upwards thanks to the position Tony's ass is in and the knowledge that his secret is out. Which wasn't even a secret to begin with anyway because Tony is in love with the only genius not smart enough to erase his browser history in the lab's computer. Which Tony uses. Routinely. Every day.

"Know about it? I've seen it. You left it out once, all used up on your bed while you were showering. You remember that, don't you? We had sex in the bathroom that day. Bruised my back and everything?"

Peter furrows his brow, works a plush lip and no, look away, Tony, look away. The kid is sin and indulgence and heaven and no.

"Oh. Oh." Whenever he thinks his boy can't go any redder, Peter busts out a new shade of pink.

"Yup. So. I'm pretty sure this is what you wanted in the first place. Maybe it wasn't your intention," he stresses when Peter's already launching up and nearly throwing him off in an attempt to reassure Tony that wasn't his purpose with the cuddles, "but you certainly wouldn't have minded this outcome. And by this outcome I mean my incredible ass on top of that fantastic dick."

Peter tries to suffocate with a pillow held over his face.

"You've got two choices, kid. You threatened the spank bank. The teasing is fine, you know I love when my pretty kitty shows his claws," a hand slaps his arm, makes him grin, " But threatening such an integral part of my mental stability? Wrong move, Queens. You aren't getting any until tonight, not even so much as a French kiss will be given. Unless you let me bite a mark on that amazing neck and don't push me away when I nuzzle you in front of the team. "

Well. Now he's definitely being thrown off of Peter's lap.

He lands on the other side of the bed with a groan, is assaulted by a whining Peter intent on receiving something to further postpone the urge for sex that's sure to hit him soon enough.

An alpha, Tony's learned, will usually be very cuddly and affectionate the first few days of a rut week. Then the possessive, protective side will slowly emerge. Nests of pillows, couch cushions, blankets and favorite pieces of clothing appear on the fourth sunrise. The next morning comes with the need for relief, for intimacy and a marathon of sex that'll leave any supersoldier exhausted by the end of it. The resulting days offer comfort, an aftercare of sorts, where the alpha and their partner show a soft affection similar to the beginning. Nests are utilized and bodies soothed. It lasts, at most, a week and the majority of the population only has to take slightly increased portions of food.

That's for people without the metabolism of four grown men.

Peter needs sex, as much as possible, so the itch for urgent intimacy doesn't result in Tony tackled to the floor of the lab in the middle of an experiment every day of the week. It's like giving him nicotine patches instead of a cigarette.

So now he's whimpering, tugging on Tony's clothes just a little too hard if the ripping sound is any indication.

"...sorry, Tony..."

"It's fine, I've got more. I'm not letting this go though. The teams' seen us fuck against a wall, their opinion and respect, your worth, didn't change. So come on. Just one little mark. One. And Bucky nuzzles Steve and Sam all the time. Hell, Pepper sometimes nuzzles me when I'm stressed out. Please, baby? "

There it was; Tony's secret weapon. Peter blushed like a virgin on a wedding night whenever he used pet names, but the genius knows his boyfriend enjoys the familiarity and subtle intimacy. Felt reassured that they were a romantic couple and not a mentor fucking his protege.

The kid nibbles at his neck, wraps gangly limbs around a body that's always been his to take comfort in. "Just one mark? And light, I mean it, Tony, light nuzzling in front of the team. For today. Then I can get what I want?"

He snorts, can't fully comprehend how the universe paired him up with someone so intent on making Tony's joints ache and creak. "Yeah, we can have sex later, Mr Charming. Subtle as brick, that Spider-Man. Let's go get you cleaned up, make sure that rut has a hard time getting my boy under the weather."

He goes to get up. He leans forward. He cannot, in fact, leave the bed.

Peter bites with a bit more pressure, drops his hips down harder and Jesus Christ, they're never seeing the light of the kitchen if his boyfriend can't wait til it's dark.

"Or..."

"I'm an old man, I need protein before you go jumping tired bones that have to spend two hours updating your suit." Ok, so maybe he's slightly bitter and annoyed at not having enough stamina (or refractory period, for that matter) to keep up with a repressed teenage superhuman. It's not his fault Pepper keeps bringing Krispy Kreme donuts to the office meetings.

It'd be rude not to eat with the others anyway.

"You don't have to do anything." Ah, it's one of those ruts.

Tony softens, smoothes a hand down a back that could hold a plank under a five story building with ease, kisses a heated cheek.

"Needy little alpha." It's his turn to whisper and nuzzle against soft skin.

"Kind, not so little omega?" Tony laughs, presses their lips together so Peter can see what's it like to taste a smile radiating with joy and love. Slowly clicks the button on the nearest nightstand; unless someone is dying , it'll just be the two of them in the room.

(There was an incident once. Groot may have been traumatized by a situation involving superstrength, webs and the Ironette costume Tony only adored when it adorned Peter's body.)

"I do so love my needy little alpha needing me, don't I?"

His boyfriend blinks, grins at Tony as if he's just hung the moon and stars for his spiderling and ok, a little sex early in the morning isn't that bad.

"You love my cuddles too."

"Shut up and kiss me, Queens. I'm not getting any-"

They don't talk about anything too important after that.

----------

A little sex early in the morning actually is that bad when you miss a meeting with the U.N and show up smelling like sex, infatuation and, oddly enough, strawberry.

Rocket doesn't stop teasing for months.

[weasleyslag]

i could probably hit your baby mama

summary: Fred's death has been really hard on everyone, especially his pregnant fiancée. George creeps into her room in the middle of the night to retrieve something, and due to darkness combined with her grief, she mistakes George for Fred.

pairing(s): Fred Weasley/ f! Reader (past), George Weasley/Angelina Johnson

wc: 1573

warning(s): pregnancy, grief/mourning

a/n: Oh my god the tone of this story so does not match the title, but I couldn't help myself. I can’t believe I let a TikTok song about sex inspire me to write a grief fic.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30626528

     You had been having a really hard time lately. Anyone could have guessed that. It was to be expected. Being in your third trimester of pregnancy was hard enough; it was infinitely harder when your partner had passed away. You didn’t have time to pause and mourn, your life was so hectic now. You had doctor’s appointments, maternity shoots, brunches and parties to accept your pregnancy. The doctor’s appointments were obviously a must, you would never dream of missing them, but the photos and parties? There was nothing you wanted to do less. You didn’t want to celebrate. Fred was gone. If it was up to you, there’d never be another party in the whole world ever again. But the Weasleys and all your friends wanted to celebrate and they were mourning too, so you didn’t want to let them down.

     The only person that had the same mentality of not wanting to move on and bring happiness back into their life was George. Sure, the others had lost a friend, a brother, a son, and that was devastating. But George and you had a bond with him that far surpassed that. George had immediately closed Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes (you had to convince him to not sell the space altogether) and locked himself in his room all day, only opening the door to talk to you or Angelina. Hell, Angelina practically had to force feed him in order to get him to eat. You felt like acting the same but it seemed for some reason, most likely your pregnancy, the others expected you to act differently. They wanted you to be the carrier of a beam of light at the end of the tunnel. And you supposed they were right, the twins you carried in your womb (you had never realized before you got pregnant how big the jump in percentage of carrying a twin pregnancy would be when twins ran in the family) were the one joy in a tragic situation. But that was them, not you. You wanted to stay in bed and cry all day. That luxury, however, was not provided for you. Therefore, most of your crying was done late into the night.

     It was close to 2am when George ventured out of his room one night. He didn’t like to be up when other people were around, lest they see the mess that he had devolved into. He creeped into Charlie’s old room that he had let you have. He was bored out of his mind, having read every book and comic in his room, so he was hoping that Charlie’s would have left some interesting books to read. Something about dragons, maybe, or really anything besides a silly romance novel.

     George tried his best to be silent, but as he tiptoed around your room, the floorboards creaked. George cursed under his breath and looked over to you. Sure enough, you were stirring.

“Sorry, I’ll be gone in a second. ‘M looking for a book.” He whispered, hoping that you would go back to sleep and that would be the end of the conversation.

You sat up, bleary eyed. “Fred?” You had always been the best at telling the twins apart but between the darkness in the room and the desperation to see your fiancée again, you mistook George for Fred.

George didn’t say anything. His heart broke for you. He knew he should say that no, it was him, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so.

“Am I dreaming? Do you need to tell me something, is that why you’re in my dreams?” Your words dripped with hope and desperation.

George hesitated before affirming, “Ye-yes. That’s right.” He felt extremely awkward but you sounded so excited to be able to communicate with Fred again that he couldn’t bring himself to let you down.

“I missed you.” Tears ran down your face. “Only a few more weeks and then our babies will be born. The doctor said it’s a boy and a girl. I would have named the boy after you but I know George and Angelina want that to be their first son so I’m letting them have it. He’s really torn up, you should visit him too."

“I, um, yeah, I’ll talk to him.” It felt strange talking about himself like that. It was heartwarming, though, that even in this moment, you were thinking about him.

“Good. Just so you know, I remember what you said in our sixth year about not wanting me to move on if anything ever happened to you. And I’m not gonna.”

“That was just a joke, you don’t have to do that. I want you to be happy.” George tried to answer the way that Fred would.

“I would have only been happy with you. I love you. I wish you hadn’t left me to go help Harry and them. I know it’s selfish but I don’t care.” You shook as you sobbed. George walked over to your bedside and put his hand on your back.

“I had to do what I had to do. They needed me there.” George found himself getting choked up on his own words. He felt the same way as you, he wished Fred had never come down to Hogwarts that day.

“I know you would say that. What did you want to come here to tell me?”

“Just that I love you. And you’re gonna be a great mom.”

“Oh, Freddie. I know you wanted a big family and now we’ll never have that. She leaned her head onto George’s chest. “Every day is so hard” You admitted.

“I know, I know.”

“Come to bed with me.” You reached for George’s hand.

“To like, have sex?” George looked around the room frantically, not meeting his eyes with yours. Fred would have certainly jumped at the chance if he was there, but he was not Fred. George wanted you to be given peace but he could most definitely not go that far. Fred would probably find a way to strangle him from the afterlife and Angelina would cut his dick off.

“If you want,” you giggled “Or we could cuddle. Then you can feel my belly. It’s huge now, way bigger than when you last saw me. Hopefully you still think I’m pretty.”

“Of course you’re pretty. Here I-scoot over.” You made room for him.

     He laid down and placed his hands over your baby bump. “They’re already kicking!” He said, in genuine surprise.

“Yeah, body movements during the day lull them to sleep. At night is when they’re most active. It’s a pain in the ass, really. But I’m just glad they’re healthy.”

     George nodded. He looked at the ceiling, waiting for you to go to sleep. Then he could finally go back to his room.

Unfortunately, you were full of questions and affection. You wanted to get Fred up the speed with what had been going on with the people close to him. You babbled on and on about how tore up everyone was. How Charlie couldn't bring himself to leave the country again and slept on the couch every night, how Ginny slept with an old flannel of Fred's every night now, how Percy felt utterly responsible for his death and tried everything he could do to redeem himself, putting out new flowers at his grave each day and going to every single doctor's appointment with you (and read every pregnancy book under the sun, making it his mission to give you all the unsolicited advice he could think off, which annoyed you to no end). It took about an hour before you finally fell asleep, and as soon as you did, George gently removed his hands from you and got up out of the bed, before scurrying back to his room. He slammed the door behind him and faced his sleeping girlfriend.

“Angelina, you will NOT believe what just happened.”

                                                             ***

     At sunrise the next morning, George made another rare appearance. Molly was so excited to see him, even though he hadn’t showered for days and looked ragged. She ran over to give him a hug, which he gingerly accepted. He explained he wasn’t up to make small talk, he was going outside to visit the makeshift grave that their family had made for Fred. He wasn’t actually buried there, but the whole family felt better having the symbol of him at the Burrow and hoped that his spirit had followed. Molly was disappointed that her son didn’t want to stay up with her and talk, but she understood he was in pain and let him go.

Upon reaching Fred’s grave, George laughed nervously.

“So…” George began. He felt silly, what if Fred’s spirit couldn’t hear him? What if he was talking to nothingness. “I almost hit your baby mama last night.” He tried to make a lighthearted joke. A light drizzle started almost simultaneously with his words. He didn’t think that it was supposed to rain today.

    George laughed, taking the rain as a response from Fred. “I’m sorry, mate. Just trying to make a joke. You know I wouldn’t.”

“She really misses you. Hell, we all miss you. I wish you had become a ghost instead of moving into the afterlife. But it’s okay. Although if you still change your mind and do that, go right ahead.” George’s voice cracked and a tear ran down his cheek. “Please.”

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Empires on the Horizon Epilogue

Jason is a CEO: Epilogue

When i started this fic (around 9 months ago-- holy hell we could have had a whole human in that time) i didn’t expect it to go in the directions it did or to produce the characters and story it did. While it’s not one of my more action-packed fics it is still very special to me because 1. it’s my first jason centered fic (of which we don’t have much of); 2. it’s my first really long multi-chap (the longest before this was 10 parts); 3. i got to explore so many of my crackships and dynamics of friendship i may not have been able to if we (for example) stuck to canon; 4. most importantly i love this fic because it started out (the very first chapter) as an original story that just was not going anywhere but when i decided to make it a fanfic, suddenly ideas were pouring from my fingers like wine from a split barrel. these characters feel as much mine as they are Rick’s (which is a dangerous path to go down and i’m not actually claiming they’re mine-- gods please don’t sue me). in short i love this fic dearly, i’m so proud of how far all these little babies have come (especially jason) and i hope you feel even a smidge the joy i feel over this, as you go on to read the very soft conclusion to Jason Grace as CEO.

masterlist; my links

[image has alt text]

There was something almost magical in the gleaming silhouette of the Manhattan skyline. There was something hopeful about it too. 

Jason Grace stepped out of his car, relishing in the sound of the gravel crunching under his feet and the babble of people all around him. His suit—  a deep blue, dark enough to look black, and glittering with tiny silver diamantes that looked like stars— clung to his shoulders and hugged his legs. The theme of the evening was “Starry Night”. He figured coming as the actual night was accurate enough. Drew and Silena had done a beautiful job on his outfit, to no-one’s surprise. He would see them here tonight, along with their husband, and the rest of his friends. And tomorrow, oh tomorrow, he would be off to Rome, with the man that filled his life with overwhelming light.

“Jase,”  Someone called out from the darkness, “Are you hiding from us because you put two different shoes on again and are too embarrassed to say?”

“Shut up Annabeth,” He laughed, “I’m coming.”

He walked towards the group of silhouettes, making out Leo and Annabeth, and Nico and Will, and coming from behind them were the dressmakers and their Charles. Hazel and Frank would be making an appearance later in the night.

“You all look beautiful.” He smiled, hugging them, kissing cheeks and foreheads, relishing in their closeness and their comfort, as he has always done. And they did in fact look beautiful. Annabeth in a dress of blue swirling around her and pooling at her feet— the colours matched the sapphire on her ring finger; Leo in a matching floor-length skirt and a sheer polo-neck that showed off every clean brown line of his skin; Nico and Will, in contrast, were complete opposites, the former in a black suit with silver jewellery, and the latter in an off white with gold accents; Silena, Drew and Charlie all had on suits with various parts of the galaxy embroidered in gold, threading a spectacular tapestry through the emerald green. All in all, his friends were really hot.

“Y’all ready?” Will drawled, tilting his head to the entrance of the hotel a little way away.

“Let’s go celebrate!” He winked in response.

And then they’re walking towards the bright lights, launching into conversations and updates and work and jokes. It was familiar in the way driving home after a long time away was, or catching a waft of the specific smell of your elementary school art room, or seeing someone from your childhood and slipping into a comfortable back-and-forth.

“Jase,” Charlie scooted next to him, breaking away from his conversation with Nico, “How’s the construction for the new section of the outdoor center going? I heard you hit a snag last week with the design?”

“Yea there was a few centimeters off with one of the structures and it caused the whole area to be off balance,” He scrunched his nose, remembering the horror from last week. “I’m just grateful we caught it in time.”

“I can’t believe it’s been a year since that center went up,” His friend marvelled, eyes wide with the disbelief of time. He knew the feeling well.

“It’s crazy. I came back from my holiday and then everything was just on fast forward.” He shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m happy though, with the progress and how far we’ve come.”

“You’ve just burst and grown and brightened,” There’s that soft smile, the one that made all of Jason’s insides turn to mush. The one that told him he was loved in every capacity.

“I know.” He felt the blush creeping up his skin, pale after the long winter months. “I don’t owe it to myself though. All of you guys have—” 

“No way mister,” Annabeth chimed in, “You absolutely owe it to yourself. You got yourself there, we just cheered you on.”

“Yea,” Leo nudged his arm, a gentleness shimmering in his brown eyes. “You were the hero of your own story.”

He muttered thank you’s and tried to embrace the blush but their love and joy and pride still drowned him. Before anyone else could pile on the sincerity they were walking into the lobby and being ushered to the large, elegant ballroom three doors down.

There was a collective gasp from their group, audible even above the low hum of chatter, and the soft jazz drifting through the speakers. The entire room had been made to look like they were standing inside the middle of “Starry Night”. Like they were the townsfolk parked outside their houses witnessing the strange and magical sky above them. Swirls of blue in the draping curtains and circles of yellow in the chandeliers and wisps of the cypress trees growing from the walls as if the very room had been built around a tree.

“This is—” He didn’t even have the words to fully express his awe. If he were an art major he would have died from the beauty of it all. As it stood he could barely keep himself up.

“I know,” A voice said quietly from behind him. “It’s almost divine.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t even turn around to see who it was. He simply stepped back and let arms envelope him. He didn’t need to check, because he knew, he would always know. In the heat of their skin, and the hum of their voice, and the love that radiated between them like scorching summer sun.

“Moró mou,” He sighed, tipping his head back to rest against a shoulder. From this angle he could see blazing green eyes and jet-black curls, and impossibly high cheekbones, and a jaw sculpted by Michaelangelo.

“Hello my love,” Percy Jackson smiled. “How are you?”

“Happy.” He muttered, lips brushing against his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Good,” The man nodded, squeezing his waist where his arms still wrapped around. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”

“I will not just survive through it,” His eyes crinkled at the corner as pure joy washed through him, “I will live through it, and I will enjoy every minute of it.” He knew the reason for the question, for the concern. But tonight it was not needed. He was nothing but excited and elated for the hours, and then days, weeks, years to come.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

A glass tinkled somewhere to their right, grabbing their attention. And then Zoe and Reyna were stepping together and drawing people towards them as if they were gravity, magnets, the center. They looked it certainly: Zoe in a stark white dress, hugging her figure, shimmering like stardust every time she moved; and Reyna in a watery blue, gauzy and flowing in time with her body, where she goes it will ripple behind her.

“Thank you,” His lawyer started, giving them a dazzling smile. “For being here. All of you.” She looked them each in the eye, her own filled with love and… were those tears? From his no nonsense, boss lady lawyer? Oh he was so going to give her a hug and then tease her endlessly about it. 

“We have a thousand people to thank for all of this,” She gestured to the room, “And a thousand more to thank just for being here, but that will come in the form of surprise take-me-homes at the end of the night.”

“However,” Zoe’s voice, still as strong and quiet as ever, rang out across the room. “There are two people we would like to thank right here, right now.” Her smile lit up the world as her eyes landed on them. “In typical us fashion, it’s a little out of the ordinary but please can both our ex-boyfriend’s come up here.” 

The crowd burst into laughter, him and Percy with them, as they detangled themselves from each other and walked hand in hand to the front of the room.

“As you can see,” Reyna grinned. Jason held in the groan he knew would accompany her next words. “We did a Partner Swap.”

The laughter only loudened, people whistling, and clapping in time with their amusement.

“I will spare you the sordid details,” Zoe’s own giggling softened to a smile, “But two years ago, after Jason and I had broken up, I called him in a panic asking for help. And despite being on a much needed holiday where he happened to meet a certain someone,” She winked at them, eyebrows waggling comically, “He listened to me, then made use of his contacts and connected me with Reyna.”

“And after I charmed the suit off of her, and won her lawsuit,” Reyna stepped in, grinning wildly, “She agreed to pop open a bottle of champagne and celebrate our win.”

“I’m not quite sure about the charming part, angel.” Zoe quirked an eyebrow, “But yes one champagne bottle and the rest was history.”

“In conclusion to this whole ordeal,” His lawyer turned to them, “Jase, Percy, we have a present for you, to thank you for loving us, and for loving us enough to let us go, and furthermore for bringing us together.”

Zoe handed them an envelope but before they bothered to open it they pulled the women in for a hug, thanking and congratulating them. He would not change what they had for the world. He will be grateful forever. He will love them even longer.

Percy ripped open the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. He leaned over his boyfriend’s shoulder and read with him.

The universe has a funny way of pulling stars together but we know with certainty that the four of us are born from the same constellation. Thank you for everything. We know we can never really repay you but please accept this as a start. 

Tucked into the last fold of the paper were two plane tickets to Japan. The holiday they had discussed once, a Saturday game night that ended with the four of them huddled around the fire in Zoe’s apartment, chattering softly about this and that. Printed in small font at the bottom of the page was a cherry blossom branch and more text that read,

Get married losers, we want joint holidays so we can get the couples packages.

He bubbled with laughter at that, and looked up at his friends, tears pooling in his own eyes.

“Alright everyone!” Reyna clapped her hands, gathering the attention of the humming crowd. “Let’s get this engagement party started.”

And then music filled the room and people dragged each other to the middle of the space and there were cheers as the song came into focus and truly Jason understood the meaning of life that night.

After they had thanked Reyna and Zoe again, and chatted with their other friends Percy pulled him to the dance floor.

“Jase,” His boyfriend cupped the back of his neck, arranging their bodies into a work of art. “We have wonderful friends.”

“The very best,” He agreed, swaying their hips in time with the beat. “We have built an empire with them by our side.”

“Will you be the emperor then?”

“There is no monarchy in this kingdom,” He smiled, blue eyes glittering and bright. “It is just us, and our love, and everything beautiful the world has ever had to offer.” He saw oceans reflecting back at him, wonder soaking in his words, happiness pressing against his lips.

His boyfriend pressed their foreheads together, bodies still moving to music far away. “And if we look further?” Percy breathed, “Past the empire, to the horizon beyond?”

“It is all home,” Jason Grace smiled. “We are home, my love.”

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

Okay there are so many people to thank and you best believe i’m going to thank them all because this fic would literally not exist without them.

@nishlicious-01​​ my favourite person, my biggest supporter and the only person who gets to shout at me when im writing fanfic at 1am because i’m not sleeping but also because ‘why am i not reading it ciara????’

@queen-of-demons-and-hell​​ for every comment, every like, every complaint you took when the writing demon was on strike. you have my heart. id be lost and a little lonely without you.

@leyontheway​​ your comments on this fic were golden and i often came back to them just for that extra burst of motivation and serotonin. i found a friend in you and now i can’t imagine my life without you.

@msdrpreist​​ Sky, mi cielo, you are one in a billion and i cannot believe i found you (and you me) across all this space and time. thank you for your unwavering support and your wonderful thoughts.

@larrikin-is-a-himbo​​ when we started this fic i believe you were @/queenbrunnhilde (or something to that effect) but although your username has changed your loveliness and endless support hasn’t. Thank you for sticking along for the ride

@spoopylucy​​​ Lucy... what do i even say to the person who singlehandedly changed my day, week, mood every time i saw a reblog from them? your tags were the start and the end. they made every upload an exciting task. and i knew no matter what happened in the fic or how long it took as soon as i got a notif from you i couldn’t be anything but happy. thank you my Luce, you’re an angel!

@not-hiesenberg​ for being my ‘ciara what the fuck even does this say? do you know how to spell?’ checker when i was too tired (more like too lazy) to do it myself.

@lesbian-peanuts​​ thank you for the love! you were one of the first people interested in this little universe and i can never thank you enough for that​

@legendary-cupcake​​ your spam when reading this was such a happy moment in my life and im ecstatic that you stayed for the ride! thank you​

to all the people on my tag list, who have liked this fic, and especially those who have commented: i see you, i love you, and i thank you with a heart full of happiness. you changed my world.

[senterya]

It's been an absolute joy reading people's takes on the OC interview that has been floating around recently.

The idea of a Pale Rose interview (read: Fyarh and Nym dragging ex-courtier Reln into this) sounded so oddly entertaining that I wrote it for myself for fun but it turned out... surprisingly okay? So I'm gonna leave it here.

OC Interview: Pale Rose edition

(Draw (or use an old drawing, don’t worry!) or take a screen of your character in an interview setting and make them answer the following questions!)

1. Can you introduce yourself?

Fyarh: Sure. I’m Fyarh, founder and – formally – leader of Pale Rose. I’m also the head of the Dreamers’ division in our guild. (turns to the other two) And they are Nymeleia and Reln, head of the Soundless and Courtiers, respectively.

Nymeleia: (with a wide smile) Glad to be here!

Reln: (remains silent – just nods a little)

2. What is your gender identity, orientation, and relationship status?

Fyarh: (after a few seconds of thinking) I’m male, maybe prefer others who identify as that too? Didn’t think too much about it before.

Nymeleia: I’m looking both ways. I’m female and taken, you could say.

Reln: Why is this even– (exhales) ...I’m male, I don’t care what my partner identifies as. And my relationships are not for the public to chew on.

3. Where and when were you born?

Nymeleia: Back in the Grove, all of us. I awoke at Dawn and the boys are both Night blooms.

4. What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

Fyarh: I’m best at stealth and surprise – daggers work just fine with that. If it’s an open confrontation, I prefer a light sword that doesn’t hinder my agility. But I’m trained and still training in hand-to-hand combat too.

Nymeleia: I was trained at the Vigil to be the shield, not the spearhead of the attack. I stay behind and make sure nothing hits that shouldn’t. I utilize shades and magic so technically I don’t need a weapon – a staff or scepter can help, though. I also carry a dagger on me, just in case.

Reln: I’m best with a bow. Two-handed sword if it comes to that. But whatever does the job, really.

5. Lastly, are you happy?

Fyarh: (smiles and glances at the others) I am. I’m on the path my Wyld Hunt laid out to me and I got great allies and friends that are with me every step I take. I’m truly grateful for that.

Nymeleia: (with a soft smile) I feel like I found my calling here. I’m working on a cause and with people that are amazing. I’m pretty happy with that, yes.

(both look over to Reln)

Reln: (after a few seconds of silence, with a cynical smile) Are we just supposed to say yes or no to that? Like happiness is that easy to define. (he glances to the side for a second.) But it’s been better here. Take that as a yes.

FAMILY AND FRIENDS

1. What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

Fyarh: The guild is the closest I have to a family in a sense you ask. I think? I’m on good terms with everyone – luckily, I mean... (he laughs a little nervously) ...it’s as it should be.

Nymeleia: I’m with Fyarh on this one. The sylvari in Rose are the closest people to me.

Reln: It really is pointless to ask sylvari about “family” – we’re all technically related, but are strangers at the same time.

Nymeleia: (with a smile she barely tries to hide) You are dodging the question.

Reln: I’m not dodging anything, I’m being reasonable. I have close friends, and allies – call that a family, if you want to.

2. Have you ever run away from home?

Nymeleia: We’re all sort of runaways, aren’t we? (she laughs) I’m Soundless, I left the Grove quite early, then joined the Vigil. Does that count?

Fyarh: It counts. But just so that you don’t feel left out. (Nymeleia gasps and mimics trying to kick him in the shin, they both laugh. Takes them a few more seconds to get back on track.)

Fyarh: I used to sneak away a lot when I was supposed to be in lectures. I loved discovering Caledon, I knew every corner of it so well when I was a sapling. Maybe I’d still remember if I walked around.

Reln (after everyone looks at him): ...I’m from the Court. I think that’s self-explanatory.

Fyarh: But didn’t you also wander away a lot?

Reln: You could say. I preferred being alone. Hunting was a good excuse.

3. Would you consider marriage or having children?

Fyarh: In the far future, maybe? I’m still very young though, and my hands are full with my guild and my Hunt. It’s definitely not something I think about a lot.

Nymeleia: Marriage sounds cute – I like the idea of honoring commitment with a little ceremony.

Reln: Neither of those seems to be for me.

Nymeleia: (quietly) Ah, my heart.

(Reln glances at her, but doesn’t respond.)

4. Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

Fyarh and Nymeleia: No...?

Reln: (slightly annoyed) Is it even a friend if you hate them? Next question.

5. Which friend knows everything about you?

Fyarh: Maybe Daleien? We've known each other for the longest, and he was with me through thick and thin. Nowadays I share a lot with Nym and Reln too. I used to be very secretive about myself but I’m working on it.

Nymeleia: We chat and gossip a lot with Dia – she’s another Soundless from the guild. She’s lovely and so supportive, I’m really glad I have her.

Reln: I’m not the one to share everything about myself. But my second-in-command knows the most.

Nymeleia: Oh don’t listen to him. He and Lavan technically read each other’s minds – no words, just half a gesture, and they know all they need to know.

ASKED BY FANS

1. Are you literate? Have you been to school?

Fyarh: I’m literate, and I’ve been mentored as much – well, maybe a little less – than any other sylvari.

Nymeleia: I actually struggled with reading and writing for a while – I could, just not well, as I never really had to. Paperwork has been a nightmare for the first months in Rose, but by now I got the hang of it. I’ve been reading a lot of novels recently, too.

Reln: I’m literate, and was mentored like all other saplings. The latter didn’t reach its purpose, though.

2. The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

(They all look at each other, but neither of them seems to have an answer or anything they’d be willing to share.)

3. What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

Fyarh: Oh. I somehow never really talked about my Wyld Hunt in.... sufficient detail to my mentors? Not before the Wardens arrested me for hiding thorn pups in a forsaken outpost. It was a real journey talking my way out from there. One of the most embarrassingly funny things that happened to me, in retrospect.

Nymeleia: I was always too caught upon not handling the concept of pain, and death, very well. I don’t regret working on it and toughening up, I just wish I had realized sooner that I should hone my strengths instead of desperately trying to “correct” what I perceive as a weakness.

Reln: ...I guess I haven’t realized soon enough what real understanding means. (he seems mildly uncomfortable by the question, and does not elaborate)

4. Do you have mental health or physical issues?

Fyarh: Fighting takes a toll on everyone, I’d say. But nothing other than that.

Nymeleia: (nodding along – her eyes wander off to the distance)

Reln: A few scars here and there. Had a lot to deal with after coming back from the heart of the jungle, but I have worked through most of those by now.

5. What is your current main goal?

Fyarh: I’m dedicating all my time to the guild. It’s been coming along so much better than what I prepared myself for, and I’m not about to waste the opportunity.

Nymeleia: I’m not satisfied with my level of skills on the field yet – I’m spending as much time on training as I can, next to Rose. There are some other necromancers in the guild with who we share our knowledge, and I have gotten some general good advice and lectures from Firstborn Trahearne himself. It’s crazy how far Fyarh’s connections go.

Reln: I’m busy training and supervising my own division. Most of us are reliable and trusting, but there are and will always be a few loose cannons I need to keep an eye out for.

CHOICES

1. Drink or food?

Fyarh: A drink, maybe? I tend to forget to eat. It’s getting on Nym’s nerves at times.

Nymeleia: Ah don’t even mention it. I’m picking food – nothing tops a good, warm meal after a long day.

Reln: Food, if I have to pick.

2. Cats or dogs?

Fyarh: I love cats. I wouldn't mind adopting one, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to take good care of them.

Nymeleia: Can we pick both, maybe?

Reln: (glancing at the thorn wolf lying next to him) I’m more of a dog person. But cats are good too.

3. Early bird or night owl?

Fyarh: I’m a night owl. Waking up with the rest of the guild at early hours is a nightmare for me. I tend to oversleep so much, it’s almost comical.

Nymeleia: That’s not a problem for me though. I’m up before everyone else. And so is Reln.

Reln: (nodding)

4. Optimist or pessimist?

Fyarh: Optimist.

Nymeleia: Same, some will even say naive for sure.

Reln: Middle ground. I’m more of a realist than any of the two.

5. Sassy or sarcastic?

Fyarh: Maybe... sassy? With close friends. I don’t feel like either most of the time, honestly.

Nymeleia: Would you say I’m more sassy or sarcastic?

Reln: (to her) Is that really a question?

Nymeleia: Oh entertain me.

Reln: (gestures towards her; she laughs)

HAVE YOU EVER

1. Been caught sneaking out?

Fyarh: Once, when I was sneaking out of a Court camp with two stolen thorn pups. Barely got away. Didn’t dare to show myself around there for a while.

Nymeleia: Several times. Did a lot of bathroom cleaning in the Vigil for it too.

Reln: If I was, I doubt I would be here today.

2. Broken a bone?

Fyarh: Miraculously, no. I don’t even know myself how’s that possible.

Nymeleia: My left arm. Open wound, too – wasn’t a good experience.

Reln: Nothing that a field medic couldn’t fix.

3. Received flowers?

Fyarh: If you mean it like, in a romantic way? No, not yet.

Nymeleia: I received a few, but in my experience Vigil soldiers are more of the blunt than the romantic type.

Reln: No.

Nymeleia: How dare you. I gave you potted herbs a while ago!

Fyarh: (leaning forward) Potted herbs?

Nymeleia: It’s because he takes his food back to his room all the time. And then he complains about the seasoning. Go figure!

4. Ghosted someone?

Fyarh: I did... use to run away from confrontations a lot. But people say I’ve gotten better with that too.

Nymeleia: I prefer to just tell people if I’m not interested in talking to them. As kindly as possible, of course. But I think it’s ruder to leave them hanging.

Reln: I did leave from places – the Grove, the Court – suddenly, but then again, I didn’t have many connections to either in the first place.

5. Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

Fyarh: That happens. Easier than trying to go back to it and figure it out, takes away the flow of the conversation.

Nymeleia: Everyone does that from time to time, no?

Reln: I don’t. If someone’s not funny enough, that’s not my problem.