#i cried on his shoulder when a dog i loved died

[bones-n-bookles]

Why did my coworker call me handsome twice today

[highvern]

Aphrodite

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: smut, friends to lovers, established relationship, fluff at the beginning

Warnings: bathroom sex, kissing, groping, fingering, dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics but they’re both actually switches (Mingyu is a service top), cumshot, Mingyu is still obsessed with titties, hair pulling, choking (hand around throat but no breath play), doggy style, unprotected sex (not endorsed by author), praise kink and strength kink go burrrrrr, there's a little bit of fluff/angst at the beginning (care/comfort) because she had a hard day at work, porn with feelings

Length: ~3k

Note: Drunk Goggles couple's bathroom scene mentioned in Discovery! the first third is so cute i actually had to close my laptop and step away while editing it so please enjoy my brain rot lol. its implied reader is on birth control and Mingyu knows it but still wrap it before you tap it guys. This was drafted as "Champagne Confetti" but i couldn't post it with that title with a straight face

ALSO stream Mamamoo Wheein's new album In the Mood! Aphrodite was a huge inspiration for the sweeter parts of this fic

read more here

The knob of your bathroom cabinet is digging into Mingyu’s shoulder uncomfortably and his ass freezing on the hard tile, but neither register in his mind much. His sole focus is on listening to you vent about how shitty work was as you wash up behind the flimsy curtain only a few feet away.

“Oh and then she had the audacity to say I should have been more prepared for the meeting! As if she didn’t send me the info an hour before!” You babble, head popping out to look at him. 

Mingyu tries and fails to stifle the laughter bubbling at the sight of your shampoo Mohawk.

“What a bitch!”

“Right?!” You move back into the spray and out of sight.

“She’s just mad because you’re better at her job than she is.”

“I wouldn’t be if she actually did her job.” You sigh.

“I’m sorry baby.”

“‘s not your fault Gyu.”

“Do you want me to beat her up?”

“Yeah, because sending my gigantic ass boy toy after her is gonna get her off my back.” You call, closing your eyes as foam rinses from your hair down your skin.

“The correct term is boyfriend.”

“The correct term is baby daddy.”

“You’re fucking nasty.”

“You love me.”

God, I do.

But it’s too early to say those words with the level of earnestness he feels so Mingyu bites his tongue.

Steam and lavender soap tickle his senses as you wash away the evidence of your previous distress. Your manager is number one on Mingyu’s incredibly short shit list.

Mingyu had barely waltzed through the door of your apartment after work, excited to spend the evening cuddled on the couch with a movie like you do every Thursday. He nearly shit himself when he found you sitting at the kitchen counter, tears staining your face and eyes rimmed red. You dove into his chest and cried for an over hour, unable to speak as wretched sobs escaped your throat. He’s never felt so helpless as he sat there, stroking your back as he held you, whispering gentle affirmations into your hair. It was his idea for you to hop in the shower once you calmed down enough to assure him you weren’t injured and “no, no one died.” 

The entire time, Mingyu sat close by listening intently, chiming in occasionally with agreements. He hadn’t follow you into the stall, void of the desire to worsen your mood. Shared showers were not a favorite in this household. Either it ended after two minutes to move to the bed or one of you hopped out, annoyed that the other was hogging the hot water and leaving them in the cold. Mingyu wanted you to relax but the only way he could relax was to make sure you’re actually okay. Which is why he is planted on the ground near the door like a guard dog, keeping an eye on you in case the tears returned; numb butt and sore shoulder be damned.

The squeak of the faucet signals the end of your bathing, echoed by the ruffle of the curtain as you push it aside to exit the tub. He keeps his eyes trained on your face, a smile spreading at the glow radiating from the apples of your cheeks void of the earlier splotchy dullness. You already look a million times better than when he entered your home.

Mingyu is trying very hard to be a supportive boyfriend while you continue to rant; but it’s challenging when the actual woman of his dreams is standing only feet away, completely nude and soaking wet, skin flushed from scrubbing and glistening in the warm glow of the light above the mirror. It takes all his might to ignore the swell of your breast and gentle the sway of your hips, or the curve of your thighs as you stretch for your towel on the rack above the toilet. The movement sends droplets falling in staccato from your hair plastered against your head onto your shoulder before trailing down your front, tracing dizzying patterns across your skin. His very own Aphrodite, exiting the sea to fill his heart.

“I hope she gets fired soon. I know I didn’t look like an idiot in that meeting, it was all her.” 

“No one thinks you’re an idiot.” He looks down at his hands playing with the cuff of his sweatshirt to distract himself from how you start twisting to towel off, body bending and stretching suggestively as you concentrate.

“She definitely does but who cares.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, actually.” You smile, towel wrapped around you snugly as you step away from the tub and towards him. “But I could still really use a hug.”

“I can do that.” 

Mingyu jumps up from his place on the floor, beaming at the soft look on your face as he tangles you in his arms. He plants peck after peck across the crown of your wet hair, nose filling with the scent of your shampoo as he squeezes you against him tightly. The remaining moisture on your body is wicked away by the soft fabric of his sweater, covering him in wet spots along his front and down his arms.

“You’re the best.” You sign into his chest as he leaves a kiss on your hairline.

To distract himself from what he really wants to say, Mingyu blows a wet raspberry against your forehead.

“Nope! Never mind!” You squeal, trying in vain to break out of his strong grip. “Get away from me!”

“But baby you just said I was the best!” He counters, arms tighten to prevent you from wiggling lose.

“No, you’re gross and I hate you!”

“GASP.”

You can only roll your eyes at your boyfriend's dramatics.

“You hate me? I wipe your tears, clean up your snot, order us take out, and you hate me?” Voice rising in pitch, he gapes at you.

“You ordered take out?”

“Focus on me! I’m hurt. Devastated!”

“Oh no, what will I do?” You deadpan, but the twitch of your mouth betrays your amusement.

It’s a dangerous game given you’re still locked in his arms and his penchant for being over the top.

“I’m deeply deeply wounded missy. So there’s only one way I’ll forgive you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Kiss?” He says with puppy dog eyes and puckered lips that makes him look like a fish.

“Oh my god!” You cackle at his ridiculousness.

“Oh, there she goes again! Do you not care about me at all?”

His question is punctuated by him collapsing against you and fake crying. Laughter bubbles in your chest like champagne. Mingyu makes you feel better without even trying.

“Alright, come here you big baby. Let me give you a kiss.”

Matching smiles meet in a sweet kiss. In your relationship, one kiss frequently becomes ten or twenty so there's no shock when you keep planting pecks against his lips before moving to tickle them across his cheek, brow, and tip of his nose. Mingyu is all smiles and giggles under your lips as you move back to his mouth.

The short kisses become heated swiftly. You wipe the smile off his face easily enough, thanking the universe it takes almost nothing to get Mingyu started (not that you’re any better). You’re impressed he didn’t jump you when you stepped out of the shower in all your naked glory. Honestly, you’re a little disappointed he didn’t. But now with your towel unraveling from your tussle, pressed against his solid frame as you nip his lips, you know it’s a matter of seconds before Mingyu crowds against you and makes you feel a lot better.

Like clockwork, a simple hum in the back of your throat paired with your nails trailing down his chest sets Mingyu off. He turns with you still in his hold, lifting you up and depositing you on the cool marble of the countertop, pushing your legs apart to make room for himself. Clumsy hands push your towel away, giving him access to play with your chest. When the nail of his thumb scratches your nipple, you arch against him with a sigh. The shift breaks your lips apart and Mingyu wasted no time diving for your throat.

Apparently tonight is one of the few nights Mingyu wants to be a little more demanding with you. The hand not plucking your chest moves the tangle itself amongst the wet hair at the crown of your skull, giving a firm tug that has your spine arching, stretching your neck with a whine to give more space to bite along your throat. Teeth scratch against the cords of muscle, but his tongue soothes the abused skin immediately after; even when he’s rough, he treats you like a princess. You feel yourself clenching around nothing at the maddening combination of sensations.

“Please, Gyu”

“Please, what?” He asks, not budging an inch from where he latches to your collarbone.

“Touch me.” You whimper.

His mouth replaces the hand pinching your chest, sucking your abused nipple into his blistering mouth. The hand that was on your chest, skates down between your thighs, pushing your legs further apart, letting your foot find purchase on the handle of the cabinet next to you to spread you wide.

He starts slowly, middle finger parting your downy lips to trace from your entrance to your mound. The calloused pad of his finger nothing more than a gossamer touch against your heat, maddening as it teases you. Curling your hips upwards, you give him more space to circle your entrance before he dips his middle and ring finger inside, thumb stretching to caress your swollen clit.

“So wet already.”

“If you had a boyfriend that treats you how you treat me, then you’d understand why.” You pant into his hair.

“Think I understand plenty.” He replies, moving your hand to caress his dick where it sits tented in his shorts.

The bathroom is filled with shameless whines and puffs of breath as you work each other up. You’ve successfully gotten a hand into his underwear, fisting the head of his cock in a tight rhythm just how he likes. The other busies itself scratching down his back as he preps you for what's to come by twisting two fingers inside you, heel of his hand grinding against your clit with every thrust.

“Need you inside.” You whisper into his mouth.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you?”

“Mhmm,” your tone is verging on pathetic but his reaction washes away any embarrassment.

“Then be a good girl and turn around.”

Mingyu steps back, giving you space to quickly jump off the counter to turn your back to him. He busies himself with removing his sweater while you settle on your elbows, ass pushed out in front of him teasingly. It gives him pause, easily distracted by the arch of your spine and the subtle jiggle of flesh as you rock from one foot to another. You watch in the mirror as he blinks lazily, using one hand to push down his pants while the other cups a cheek, squeezing it in his palm. When his shorts are finally pooled around his ankles, he steps closer to let his length rest on your ass.

You can feel his leaking tip brush your tailbone, leaving a faint trace of dampness across your skin as you roll on to the balls of your feet to grind back on him. The rigid velvet of his shaft has arousal dripping down your thighs crudely.

You watch his face with rapt attention in the mirror. He’s hypnotized by how his cock looks pressed snug against your rear, resting hot and heavy in the valley of your cheeks. His throat bobs with a harsh swallow; hands wrapping around your sides, lazily tracing the curve between the bottom of your ribs to your hip bones. Mingyu’s hips move of their own volition, rutting across your ass as his cock continues to drool on your skin.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“Come on baby, I had a hard day. Need you to make me feel better.”

Mingyu's eyes find yours in the mirror. You know the pout on your lips will get you everything you want. Mingyu knows it too.

“Condom,” he prompts. 

There’s a stash in the drawer to your left but Mingyu is fully aware he lacks the will power to reach over and grab one when his hands are filled with something so much more enticing right now.

As you shake your head with a mischievous quirk of lips, he’s pretty sure you’re playing a cruel joke on hum.

“Shit,” He curses. “Are you serious?”

“Fuck me, Gyu.”

Palming his cock, Mingyu recites a silent prayer that he doesn’t blow his load immediately. This is the first time he gets to fuck you raw and goddamit if it’s short lived. Tracing his tip through the mess between your legs, he collects your arousal to lube him up. He can feel how soaking you are at the idea of him fucking you without the barrier of latex, inner thighs smeared with your essence. Hopefully you’ll come as quickly as he probably will.

“You’re so dirty, letting me stuff you with my cock like this. Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you gasp when he nudges your clit. “Your dirty girl.”

“That’s right, my dirty girl.” He growls as he pushes inside you.

The first inch has you both closing your eyes, vision filled with stars. As nice as he feels bare inside you, it’s the mental is getting you off more than the physical. Every time Mingyu stretches you out on his cock is a treat, but the knowledge that the flared head of his cock pressing deep inside is leaving traces of his seed along your walls has you breathless. You’ve never let anyone else fuck you like this and a part shielded in your chest hopes he’s that last to.

Mingyu is more or less losing his shit behind you. The scorching wet clamp of your silky inner muscles that he’s only felt on his tongue or fingers is better than he could ever imagine. Your pussy gushing to coat his cock as he splits you open has him on the verge of tears. When he’s settled in, your ass pressed firmly to his pelvis, you wiggle against him.

Mingyu responds by pressing forward, pinning your hips to the counter harshly to prevent you from moving again. You’re clenching around him so hard, it takes all of his self control not to cum. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You mewl.

You’re really not helping.

“Calm down.” He grits out, both to himself and you.

“Need it.”

“Oh you need it?” He chides, delivering a bruising thrust.

You reward him with a sharp whine.

“Calm down baby, I'll give it to you. Always do, don't I?”

One hand circles the base of your throat, not squeezing; just resting the curve against his palm as his thumb trails along the side of your neck. It stops your breath anyway. But then Mingyu leans down to press his chest with your back, face coming into view right over your shoulder to whisper in your ear while looking you in the eye through the mirror.

“But you gotta be a good girl and spread it for me.”

You heave at his words, afraid you might pass out. Hands scramble to grab your own ass cheeks, pulling the flesh apart so he has a clear view of your pussy sucking him in as he starts curling his hips inside you.

The way he’s fucking you is vulgar. Hand wrapped around your throat as the other moves back into your hair, your own brushing the tops of his thighs as he cants against your ass, balls slapping against your pussy with each thrust. Mingyu leans back to watch himself disappear into your cunt, pulling you up into an arch. The feel without a condom is melting his brain but the visual absence of latex is doing incredible damage to his psyche too.

You both are a mess of sweet whines and rough groans, bathroom echoing with the clapping of skin and wet squelch of your full pussy. Breaking his focus on the way your entrance stretches to accommodate his thick cock splitting you open, Mingyu looks in the mirror to watch the way your tits bounce in time with his hips; your mouth open in a silent scream, eyes misty with delirium as you watch him watching you.

“Feel so fucking good like this, shit.” He pants. “Hear how wet you are? Fucking love it don’t you?”

Your head falls forward pathetically, only stopped by the palm still resting around your throat. When Mingyu gives a tentative squeeze, you whimper a quiet agreement. He watches as you force a hand between your thighs, fingers rubbing your clit in tight circles to push you closer to the edge.

“Gonna come,” you whine.

“Yeah?” Mingyu asks, excitement clear as day. He tilts his hips to fuck deeper, stretching you just a little bit wider on his cock to send you home.

“Fuck!” You sob, tensing as your orgasm washes over you. 

Every muscle in your body ignites, squeezing impossibly tighter as electricity snaps through your nerves, licking your veins and exploding your field of vision in a blinding white. Like a taunt bow string being released, you curl in on your chest as you clench around your boyfriend’s cock, gushing down shaky thighs. Your free hand grips the edge of the sink, holding on for dear life as you twitch in his hold.

“Where do you want it?” Mingyu cries, two seconds behind you and using his last functioning brain cell to not piss you off by assuming he can finish inside despite wanting nothing more. “Gotta tell me where you want, Y/N.”

“On me, wanna feel you on me!” You cry, still playing with your clit as you pry open teary eyes to watch Mingyu from the mirror.

A bright red blush spreads across his chest and up his neck, glistening with beads of sweat and condensation from the steam clogging the air. His bottom lip swollen from where it's locked between clenched teeth, neck straining and biceps bulging from his harsh grip on your body. He has enough sense of reality to slip the hand around your throat into your hair, gathering the strands in a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of the way of the mess he’s about to make.

He pulls out with seconds to spare against a tsunami of pleasure that begins to surge through his body, beginning in his balls and crashing outward to swamp his nerves. It ripples across his skull, raising goosebumps in its wake as it ebbs through his blood stream. Mingyu’s abdomen flexes as he fists his cock still slick with your combined arousal over your ass; thick streaks of his seed rushing forward. You feel a hefty rope land between your shoulder blades, the sticky heat intoxicating as it trickles down your back. A few drops sputter on the dip of your spine and your hand still spreading you wide, decorating you in his own diamonds.

Mingyu can’t help the way he stares at your hole, obsessed with how you clench around nothing like you’re missing something. He wishes he was watching you squeeze around his dick, his cum dripping out of you with each pulse of muscle. Maybe someday he’ll get to.

As your orgasms subside, weariness circles on the edge of your senses. Two sets of eyes flutter shut, chests heaving and hearts beating in time. Unwinding his hand from your hair, Mingyu lets it gently rest next to your hip on the counter, preventing him from collapsing against you and into the sticky residue he’s left. He can’t feel his legs, head empty of coherent thought. Unconsciously, his thumb traces the dimple at the base of your spine, the gentle caress grounding him to his body. 

The quiet of the bathroom is only disturbed by the hum of the overhead fan. You both are spent, muscles weak and nerves fried. Occasionally a deep breath interrupts but it's peaceful as you bask in each other's presence. 

“Oh my god,” you pant, breaking his trance. 

“Hmm?”

“How did you get cum on the mirror?”

[cherrifire]

Fragment headcanons <3

For those who don't know, these are fragments:

Art credit: me ;)

They are caused by Watchers eating up a player's negative emotions and visualize as these cracks in the body.

Note: I'm going to slap all Double Life fragments onto the heart. It just makes sense. So this headcanon list will be for 3rd/Last/Limited unless there is a special difference (Grian + Pearl + Jimmy + Ren). Just so I don't have to write over the heart several times.

Grian

The only fragment he has stretches across the back of his hands from where he had to beat Scar to death in 3rd Life.

He keeps the Watchers off him for the rest of the series by bringing a silly and goofy vibe to the games though. They hate him so bad so they haven't given him any more fragments. They would rather just ignore him.

Scott

3rd Life fragment wraps around his head like a flower crown.

Last Life fragment hits him in the shoulder then another on the bottom of his foot, spreading inside his body like lightning. (Think Aang's scar from Avatar the Last Airbender)

Limited Life fragment on the left side of his back, giving him a fragment on both sides of his heart. This is due to how hard his heart would have been pounding every time he was hunted for sport.

Pearl

Last Life, Pearl is granted 6 lives and has a habit of using/giving those lives to help Scott, her closest ally. The fragment is small and over the heart.

Pearl's experience in Double Life with heartbreak was so intense, and since she already had a fragment over the heart, her fragment for that season ended up huge. The cracks over her heart are wide and bright. But the Watchers loved her so much they sent her back in even though she wasn't ready. Meaning she held onto her emotions for Tilly and had to be swapped out with Lizzie for an episode.

Limited Life fragment is placed between her eyes and above on her forehead. Like a third eye for being a nosey neighbour and watching.

Martyn (We actually get to see his fragments at the end of Lim Life.)

3rd Life fragment spreads down the cheek like tears for when he cried losing Ren.

Last Life, on the back. The backstabber was backstabbed. He was completely willing to betray Grian in order to get himself, Mumbo, Jimmy, and Impulse somewhere nicer. Somewhere safer. The end. Only for the Watchers to reveal that was never the case.

Limited Life, over the hand his weapon was held in in which he had to kill Scott twice with.

Jimmy

All of Jimmy's fragments spread across his back like canary wings.

Scar

3rd Life, spreads across his chest from where that first creeper blew him up. The first death. Seems rather fitting for the guy who can't keep his shirt on.

Last Life, through his mouth, built from all the lies he spoke.

Limited Life, matching placements with the Clockers on the right forearm like a family tattoo.

Joel

3rd Life, a few small cracks spread around like dog bites.

Last Life, one of the biggest fragments and spread through his entire body. For every kill he got, he got a matching crack as if he was the one who died. His insanity means he has axe, sword, arrow, explosion, and fall damage cracks because with each kill he got worse.

Limited Life, kind of hidden based on just how many cracks Joel has, but starts above his chest and out through the bottom of his foot. Another lightning scar.

Etho

3rd Life, cracks spread from his finger tips up from digging his hands in the dirt to plant dark oak saplings.

Last Life is hard to place a fragment. Because I know he would get one for never giving Bdubs one of his lives but I don't know where that would place on the body. Back of the head for not thinking? Over the heart for the ache of regret? I'm not sure.

Matching fragment with the Clockers but it's on the wrong arm (left).

Bdubs

Bdubs is similar to Grian to me in a case where he brings a very goofy mood to the series. So I want to say he doesn't have a fragment for 3rd Life. Like, he betrays Impulse with 0 remorse.

Last Life, on the back where Grian shot him. That was the moment he realized Etho didn't love him as much as he thought. Shot for doing what he asked and never receiving another life. Etho's name on the tip of his tongue as he dies alone.

Limited Life, Clocker fragment, right forearm.

BigB

3rd Life, similar to Etho, I'm not sure where to place this one. But I think BigB would have a fragment for loneliness. BigB spends a lot of time that season on his own. And it's not like other seasons with lonely characters. Last Life Joel + Scar, Double Life Pearl, etc etc, they all still sort of had someone. Like Joel and Scar still technically had each other + Pearl technically had Scott, Martyn, and Cleo. BigB is mostly just doing his own thing for a good portion of 3rd Life and doesn't join a team till late season.

Last Life, matching stab fragment with Cleo because his betrayal on her hurt just as badly for him.

Limited Life, matching third eye fragment with Pearl for being a nosey neighbour.

Impulse

It's so easy to betray this guy. Both 3rd and Limited Life fragments are on his back from being backstabbed by both Bdub and Martyn. Though, the one left by Bdubs in 3rd life is more prominent and fractured.

Impulse doesn't get a fragment for Last Life. He didn't do much this season and thankfully was able to avoid any huge heartbreak.

Skizz

I think... despite not being in Double Life, Skizz has a huge fragment over the heart. It's not massive like Pearl's despite all 3 fragments being there simply because Skizz is filled with so much love. Love for his teammates and love for even his enemies.

3rd Life, he dies for his nation. Rushing in because he's tired of his friend being pushed around. (I will also never be over how Skizz RAN to Dogwarts when he heard Martyn beheaded Ren. He thought Martyn had betrayed Ren and was ready to CATCH HANDS despite only being in golden armour.)

Last Life, even when team BEST kicks him out, he's sure to stop in the middle of his threats to tell Tango that he's on Skizz's good side. And even though he's mad at his team, when he dies, his ghost watches over them anyway. Being the only one to hear Bdub's final words.

Limited Life we of course got the affirmation station. And when his time was up, he let Etho kill him so his whole team could stay in the game just a little longer even if Skizz could have kept trying for another 20 minutes. He loves so much it kills him almost every time.

Tango

Fragment hidden in his hair for his rage (hot-headed).

For the most part, Tango goes under the radar for the Watcher. His deaths are anticlimactic and there's never enough drama for him. They only pay attention to him when he's angry and this neglect means he holds onto grudges and hosts a furious rage for most people who have hurt him the most. Bdubs constantly being the one to take his lives in Last Life and inflicting the first rage. Martyn just never being a positive presence for Tango's POV meaning he doesn't trust him one bit. Like. Tango is Martyn's most frequent victim with 4 kills.

Cleo

Another case where I'm unsure where to put it. I think Cleo would have a fragment from the stress she had to endure from stealing and hiding Pizza.

Last Life, Cleo gets a stag fragment on her back for being backstabbed by BigB. The thing that makes this fracture special is how it doesn't stay the same. The Watchers forgot to remove part of her negative feelings towards BigB after this betrayal. As the series goes on, this fragment gets bigger and bigger since Cleo never forgives BigB for this betrayal.

Limited Life, Clocker fragment, right forearm. Additionally, part of her Last Life fragment settles down thanks to her short swap with Gem.

Ren

A crack around the neck, fracturing from the back where Martyn beheaded him. Similar to Scar's explosion fragment being important because he's the first death of the series, I think this fragment is also significant since it's the first PvP kill. The first weapon drawn.

Like Skizz, Ren is also a lover. Filled with love, loyalty, and dedication to the people he cares about. His heart fracture spreads across his heart for the same reasons. He would lay his life on the line for his allies. And I think BigB leaving him for Grian broke him so much inside he couldn't return to Limited Life.

Lizzie

She wasn't built for this series. Wasn't built to be killed in cold blood by her soulmate Joel and his red life insanities. But she was healthy enough to be brought because just a little to stand in for Pearl.

Mumbo

He also wasn't built for this series. They snapped him in half bro. Being killed by Grian was too much.

If you disagree with anything or have any of your own ideas please let me know in the comments/tags <3

[blingblong55]

Until I found you-König

GN!Reader, angst, fluff

Oh, let me hold you I'll never let you go again like I did

Your relationship with König was more than amazing, he always looked forward to coming home to you. But as the missions started to pile up for him, the more he saw himself losing hope to come home safe or alive. He couldn't and wouldn't be the reason why you were sad if he were to die, so he thought that maybe if he broke up with you before one of the toughest missions he's been on, surely you'd be able to move on without him in the world.

The day that he broke up with you was nothing but painful, you were sad but also mad at him. His reasoning was not clear and all you could think about was that maybe there was someone else for him and he just didn't want you to know that. Were you not enough? Was there something wrong with the way you loved him? He definitely knew you loved him with every fibre of your being but you didn't think he was fully aware of how much love you have for him. There was a deeper reason for this, not just because he thought I'd be mean of him to leave you alone and in despair.

Two months ago he was closer to death than ever before. A bullet passed through his shoulder, it was by pure luck he never got hit. That was when reality set in for him. He can't just leave you like that. Stupid excuse for such a valid reason. And now, as he walks into the flat you two called home, your stuff is gone and the home feels colder. The colours and comfort the place brought him once, are now gone with you.

Reality set in. He let the one good thing he had in this miserable world go. If only he was as smart in love as he is on the field. What a shame. König now sits on the sofa that you two once cuddled in after he came home. What a fool was he to think he'd have you for years to come. He used to think he was at risk of getting hurt only to be the one who brought such pain to a wonderful and kind person. Couldn't he be more kind to your heart and feelings? Memories flush through, the night he got news his Oma died, you were there. Holding him close he silently cried for her. You were there the day his mum was in the hospital, calming him down, making tea and visiting his mum every week after the incident. You made sure to clean her face after every meal, made him feel comfort when he felt it was wrong to be weak and you were the one who was there the night he had the worst panic attack due to his PTSD.

Why is he such a fool?

He saw you at the park, reading a book under your favourite tree. He smiles, knowing that at least that part of you has never changed. If he is such a tough and ruthless soldier then why hasn't he gone to you and started to talk? Because he is a coward at love, not war. You laid back, jumper on your back to make the tree bark more comfortable to rest on. He used to be the one you rested on as you read. It was the one thing he loved to do in public. He was Shakespeare and you his Anne. The muse to his love and sonnets.

"Liebe?" he softly says as he finally has the courage to talk and approach you. "König." you sounded surprised. Oh, how he longed to hear your voice and the sweet sound you made when you said his name. Sweet angel, his sweet sweet angel.

Now, four years since he and you rekindled your love, you two now chase your dog around the park because the dog can't let go of the dog bone a little kid threw by accident. You are now his spouse, the one and only for a man like him. Never did he know he could feel so much for one person, yet he is there, loving, protecting and caring for you.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Missing Piece

A/N: Just to let you know, Steve’s scar story is a true story that happened to me when I was younger that I didn't realize was so awful until I told it someone. Halfway writing about Rosa, I realized that I was thinking of Rosa Diaz from Brooklyn 99. So, loosely based on her.

Steve doesn't like to talk about his parents much. It's not that he hates them or anything. They weren't around enough for him to have a reason to hate them. He doesn't really know them well enough. They don't hit him or anything, and they pretty much leave him alone when they are around, only talking to him to remind him not to embarrass them, which is fair. So, they're not terrible parents. Not really.

"Hey, I have to ask. How'd you get that scar on your upper lip?" Eddie asked.

Steve had invited Eddie and Robin over to hang out at his house. It was safe to say that Eddie was quickly becoming their best friend as well. Although there was this fuzzy feeling in his stomach that told Steve that Eddie might mean something more.

"I'm such a klutz," Steve said chuckling.

"It's true, he is," Robin said.

"So, you know the story," Eddie said.

"No."

"Okay, fine. Fine. When I was younger, I went grocery shopping with my mother, but the sounds and everything always overwhelmed me even now, but I like to think I'm better at handling it. Anyway, I used to scream my head off, it made shopping hard for my mother, and she quickly got tired of having to bring me to the restroom to pop me in the mouth. She finally came up with a solution to just leave me in the car while she shops. I was okay with it for a while, but I didn't like how sleepy the hot car made me, so I tried running after her. I slipped and fell on the pavement. Busted my lip pretty good. My mom ripped me a new one for not listening to her. I was a shitty kid," Steve said, smiling fondly.

There was silence as Robin and Eddie stared at him.

"What?"

"Did you know this about his mom?" Eddie asked.

"No! I would have killed her!" Robin exclaimed, horrified.

"Where was your dad in all of this?" Eddie asked.

"Away on business like always or cheating on my mom," Steve said.

"Why are you saying it so casually?!" Robin asked.

"You're his best friend, shouldn't you know these things about him?!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Excuse me, she knows plenty of things about me. Like my favorite colors are yellow, blue, and pink. She knows I like blueberries and snap peas. She knows I'm bisexual. She knows that I lost my virginity to a guy - "

"I do NOT! You're bisexual?!" Robin said.

"I told you in October!" Steve exclaimed.

"I thought you were talking about getting a new bicycle!" Robin exclaimed. "You lost your virginity to a guy?"

Steve leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"I told you about Tommy," Steve said.

"I thought you said Tammy," Robin whispered back, and then she waved her hands about. "Okay. Okay. Look, whenever Steve did talk about his parents, I always thought they were boring, stuffy, rich people, not abusive assholes!"

"They're not abusive. You have to actually be around for them to be abusive. I mean, honestly, they could be, but I don't know them very well," Steve shrugged.

"I don't think I was in this much denial when my own dad walked in and out of my life," Eddie said as he paused and placed his hands on Steve’s shoulders. "Steve, sweetheart - "

"You called me sweetheart," Steve said with a crooked smile, and he giggled softly.

"Yeah, I did do that. Focus," Eddie said. "How often did your parents leave you alone so often?"

"Oh, they decided that I didn't need a nanny anymore so. . .8! Yeah, eight. Although, I kept calling her mom up until I was about four. I cried like a baby when I found out they fired her, and a year later, when I found out she died in a car accident," Steve said, looking sad. "She taught me Spanish, you know, and she used to make me spaghetti with hot dogs. I loved it. You would have loved her, Robin. You remind me of her sometimes."

"Steve, why don't you talk about her?" Robin asked.

"It hurts too much to talk about. I do think about her. What would she think of me now? Would she be proud of me? Would she still love me?" Steve shrugged. "I wasn't even allowed to go to her funeral. I don't even know where she's buried."

"Sweetheart, what was her name?" Eddie asked softly.

"Rosa," Steve said, and tears came to his eyes. "Rosa Sanchez."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose to stop the tears from coming. Eddie grabbed his hand and pulled it away.

"Let them come," he said softly. "No one is here to tell you not to."

Steve burst into tears and fell into Eddie's arms.

"He always told me that Harrington men don't cry!" Steve sobbed.

"Everyone cries. Your parents were abusive, uncaring, and the most awful people on the planet. Rosa was your mom, in everything but blood, Rosa was your mom, and you should be allowed to mourn for her," Eddie said.

Steve buried his face into Eddie's neck and let it all come out. Robin came up behind him and hugged him tightly. Eventually, it became hard to hold him up, so they moved him to the couch, where he fell asleep, crying into their laps. Eddie gazed lovingly at him as he stroked Steve’s hair.

"You're totally in love with my platonic soulmate, aren't you?" Robin asked.

"He makes it easy," Eddie replied.

"We have to find out where Rosa is buried," Robin said.

"And we know just the person to crack this case," Eddie said.

"Nancy," Robin and Eddie said in unison.

The next morning, Steve woke up to find Eddie snoring in his face. They were curled up on the couch, their legs intertwined. Steve could feel Eddie's hand pressed up against the small of his back. Steve's shirt had bunched up during the night, so Eddie's hand was touching his skin. The touch caused a fuzzy feeling to spread throughout his body, and it also made his head buzz. Steve bit his lip and brushed his knuckle against Eddie's cheek. It caused his body to shudder and Eddie to startle himself awake. He almost jumped right out of Steve's arms, but Steve threw his leg over his hip and pressed him back down on the couch.

"I don't think so. I'm quite comfortable," Steve grinned.

"Uh, so, how are you?" Eddie asked, his nose suddenly brushing up against Steve's.

"Good. . .better and much lighter, like there's a weight off my shoulders," Steve said. "It's all because of you and Robin. Thank you."

"Anything for you," Eddie said honestly. "I'm glad we can be of help. You should know that Robin left. She had to talk to Nancy about something."

"Anything that I should know about?" Steve asked.

"Not yet," Eddie said.

"Hmm, okay, I trust you," Steve said with a happy sigh as he nuzzled his nose against Eddie's. "Can I kiss you?"

"You want to kiss me?" Eddie asked, his eyes widening comically.

"Mm-hm," Steve said. "Very much."

"Okay."

Steve pressed his lips against Eddie's with another happy sigh. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve's shoulders, pulling him deeper as Steve flipped him onto his back. Steve's heart was singing with how well their bodies fit together. . .how well they fit together like two perfect puzzle pieces. Steve broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Eddie's.

"You make me so happy," Steve said.

"Ridiculous idea but I'll accept the fact that Steve Harrington says that I, Eddie Munson, makes him happy," Eddie said and paused. "You make me happy too."

The next few weeks flew by, and they were spending all their time together. It was complete bliss for the both of them and Steve was so glad that there wasn't the expectation of sex. They had both agreed that it would be better for their relationship, and it was. It wasn't hanging over their heads like they thought it would. They were just enjoying each other's company. They had already come out to the group so when Joyce and Hopper had a little get together there wasn't any pressure to hide their relationship.

"It's so nice that everyone can come together like this," Dustin said.

"Uh, you're missing someone, genius," Max said.

"Who?" Dustin said.

"Nancy isn't here," Steve replied, his arm wrapped loosely around Eddie's waist.

"Oh, shit," Dustin cursed. "Where is she?"

"She called and said she would be by later," Robin said.

"You know something," Steve said with narrowed eyes.

"It's good, I promise!" Robin said. "At least, that's what Nance said but she wouldn't say exactly what was good about it, just that it was good, and it was good for you."

"Okay, I'm trusting you guys," Steve shrugged.

Nancy didn't show up until an hour later, and Steve was now sitting on the porch with Eddie in his lap as he talked animatedly to Dustin. Steve's hands were firmly on his hips because if they weren't on his hips, Steve knew that if Eddie got too excited, he would start bouncing and he did not need that happening in the middle of the party.

"Steve," Joyce called out from inside the house.

"Be right there," Steve replied and got up before depositing Eddie back into the chair.

"Aww, my comfy chair is leaving," Eddie said and Joyce's head popped back out the door.

"You might want to come, too," Joyce said.

Eddie shared a look with Steve before taking his hand and walking into the house. Joyce was standing around the table with Hopper, El, and Nancy.

"What's going on?" Steve asked.

"Nancy told us about Rosa, your real mother. She also told us about your parents," Joyce said and hugged him. "I'm sorry but Nancy does have good news for you."

She squeezed his arm before pulling away. Steve turned and looked at Nancy with confusion.

"When Robin told me about Rosa, I had to find out where she was buried. With the help of Hopper and El, I was able to find her. When your parents fired her, she fought like hell to stay with you but finally, they threatened her by threatening you and so she left because she wanted to protect you," Nancy said, tears in her eyes. "I never found a gravestone, not even a death certificate. I didn't. . . because Rosa's still alive. . . Rosa?!"

Steve's heart stopped when the woman he had been missing every single day of his life walked into the room. . . the woman he thought had died. The last time he had seen her was when he was eight years old, and he had tried to get to her stay. He remembered the last word that he had uttered as she walked out the door, the word he had promised his parents that he would never call her. . . the word that came out now.

"Mama?!" Steve sobbed.

Rosa let out a strangled cry and rushed toward him, throwing herself into his arms. Steve put his arms around his nanny. . . no, his mother for the first time in years. He immediately began rambling in Spanish.

"Steve, Steve, slow down. You're going to make yourself sick," Rosa said as she brushed away his tears. "Oh, you've grown so much."

"Sorry, I know my Spanish is a little rusty," Steve said. "I haven't used it in a while."

"You will learn again," Rosa laughed. "My curious little boy, you've always had search thirst for knowledge. Always wanting to know the answer to everything."

"It took me forever to learn things. You know that I used to crawl backwards," Steve muttered.

"We learn in different ways," Rosa said. "You still learned and eventually you did start crawling forwards and who did you start crawling towards?"

"You, mama, always you," Steve said and she patted his cheek with a proud smile.

"I'm proud of you. I've heard you've got a big family now," Rosa said. "Introduce me."

"But first. . .," Steve said, looking at Eddie questioningly, and Eddie nodded. "I want you to meet my boyfriend, Eddie."

"Do you make him happy?" Rosa asked.

"That's what he keeps telling me," Eddie grinned. "He makes me happy, too."

"Then I am happy," Rosa said and hugged Eddie.

Steve grabbed his mother's hand and led her outside.

"Hey guys, you want to meet my mom?" Steve asked, laughing as everyone surrounded them.

Steve grinned as he told them the story, his heart filling with joy. The hole that had been left there was now gone as the most important person in his life was now found again. All the pieces had now come together.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 9 - left its seeds while I was sleeping

“Hello darkness, my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again. Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping. And the vision that was planted in my brain still remains within the sound of silence.” -The Sound of Silence by Disturbed

Masterlist Part 8

It was the lack of air in her lungs that woke Jazz up, gasping for air and fingers desperately trying to find a beating pulse at her neck. 

With a sigh of relief, Jazz rested her palm against the beat, counting as it started to settle into a resting pace again. 

Another nightmare. 

Back in Danny’s memorial Jazz had converted from a maintenance access space, she had slept there one Christmas weekend as she learned her little brother would truly never have a peaceful afterlife. The darkness was an old friend, like a worn blanket from childhood that you would hide under because you believed the monsters wouldn’t get you then- embraced her as she was and sheltered her as she mourned her lost humanity and childhood until there were no more tears to cry. 

Nonetheless, it couldn’t shelter her from the dreams of death, the echo of Danny’s death scream ghostly wail ricocheting in her skull like the worst sort of pinball game she could ever have the misfortune of playing. 

It was no longer Danny’s death or theirs that haunted her with dogged determination, but Jason’s. 

(The same man she found herself missing more with each passing day that she didn’t wake in his arms.)

It was horrifically detailed, the nightmares, because Jazz’s imagination painted with vivid color even in sleep. The details Lady Gotham had shared with her were few and far between, considering she didn’t care for talking about her favorite bird’s murder. 

(Beaten, betrayed… waiting for his dad to reach him in time.)

(Only the darkness would ever know how much Jazz cried for a younger Jason, who only wanted his mother’s love, died for it.)

(It spoke to her own childhood, wanting her parents to love her and care for her.)

(What a pair they were.)

Jazz threw off her blankets and got dressed for the day, hair brushed back into a low ponytail and Bracelets hidden under loose sleeves and a glamor. The metal was cool against her warm skin, a comfortable weight on her forearms as she went about her morning in silence, forcing the nightmare back into a box for her never to think about. 

Danny emerged only a few minutes after Jazz began making breakfast for them, yawning and raking a scarred hand through his messy hair as he tried to wake up. Her little brother was completely healed from his traumatic experience physically, but she worried about him mentally. Though he was much happier compared to when she first dragged him bleeding and screaming to Gotham, which could also be due to the fact that he has a new Haunt and isn’t vilified by the city as Phantom. 

Even if it came at the cost of life, Danny loved being a vigilante.

The signs were there in the little things most of all.

 The pride in his voice when he introduced himself as Phantom, delivered puns and witty one-liners with his wicked sense of humor for all to see, thrived in the sense of duty he wrought in Protecting others, even complete strangers. Danny was a hero, but he didn’t need that distinction to want to help, he only wanted to not be hunted for his spooky nature. 

Jazz would shoulder that burden for him, take up another mantle if it meant giving Danny a chance to be happy with his existence. Ancients only knew how far she would go for him. 

One slash, two, three

Blood is on your hands already. 

Fourth, fifth slash

Ask the ghosts if honor matters, buried amongst the ash. 

So what if Jazz had a bond with the darkness? So what if she woke up with no air in her lungs, searching for a pulse? 

There was nothing else for her to fight for, no greater purpose she could find then to be at Danny’s side through the ups and downs. Jazz had already given up so much, both willingly and unknowingly, to take the crown, to be more than a presence on the sidelines- she was more than a Liminal, Jazz was the damn Regent. 

(She ignored the grating reminder of the title being temporary.)

It was only until Jazz watched Danny walk through the door of his school, that it dawned on her what she was feeling….

Jazz was becoming depressed. 

-——-———–

With the subtlety of Jack Fenton barreling through a wall, Jazz threw herself into work- both Vigilante and Regent- to ignore the realization and subsequent horror that she was falling into a deep depression.

And it was largely because of Danny. 

Ancients, Jazz wanted nothing more than to confront these feelings head on, much like she encouraged her little brother too, but she couldn’t even find where to begin. 

She supposed she could find someone to talk to about all this, in a professional manner, but her options were limited. 

Spectra was the only ghost with counseling experience, but Jazz would only be leaving a conversation with her worse than when she began. 

Frostbite would be of little help with something so human, considering he was an ancient ghost Yeti. 

Human. That was it. 

Jazz hadn’t considered a human psychiatrist, since most of her health needs thus far were physical and treated by the Yeti tribe, thanks to her ecto-contamination and proto-core. 

What if she found a human doctor to see? Jazz had no reason to discuss anything  ecto related, only human adjacent, so she could very well find one that suited her and her needs. 

Well, that might be a challenge in Gotham. 

The Watchtower was host to nearly every possible hero who were to attend Batman’s urgent briefing, many lingering around and questioning what the Bat could’ve had in store for so many of them to be present. 

Robin, Red Hood, and Red Robin were counted among the numbers of those present, though only Red Robin had the fully depth of what they were about to be privy to, having been one of three people to sort through the Ghost Files (as they were dubbed by the Batkids). 

Robin had demanded to be included, citing his prior experience with The Regent in Crime Alley as reason enough. 

(He would not admit that he had been petrified by the vigilante, the death aura freezing him down to his bones.)

Red Hood was there at the request of his younger brother (Tim), Oracle and Batman, though he had yet to understand why. 

“Red Robin, begin the presentation.” Batman ordered gruffly as he entered the large meeting hall, Superman and Wonder Woman at his heels, the other heroes trickling in soon after. 

Red Robin nodded, took a deep breath and started the presentation slideshow. 

Slide #1: Ghosts, Fenton Family, GIW, Anti-Ecto Acts, The Regent and the Phantom

Despite the absurdity of the first slide, no one felt like laughing. Especially when it is in a meeting with the Batman, the Dark Knight and two (?) of his children. Not to mention the existence of Deadman was well known to the Justice League. 

“Bloody Hell, Bats, took you long enough.” Constantine had no qualms about poking the man in question with a metaphorical stick, but he had fully expected this briefing to happen a week ago. 

“This briefing will be disclosing information granted to us by one of these Ghosts or Ecto-Entities as they are officially classified by the Ghost Investigation Ward or GIW. A serious breach of the Metahuman protection laws has been created and exploited by this government organization, which is responsible for drawing the Human world into the beginnings of an inter dimensional war with the Infinite Realms.” Batman spoke calmly, even if he was holding onto his demeanor by the skin of his teeth. 

(He was livid.)

(A dead child had to beg him not to send him to war.)

(A dead child was a Spirit of Protection.)

As expected, the heroes present were disgusted by the actions of the GIW, the diabolical Anti-Ecto Acts passed during Luther’s term. 

The worst reactions came during the Fenton Family portion. 

The Ghost Files had included so much info on them, Red Robin had to shorten the list of what he would include in the presentation. 

The first picture was of the members themselves, posing in front of a brick building with a neon sign of ‘Fentonworks’ glaring annoyingly from the background, casting an off shade of pale green over the subjects. 

“The Fenton Family, manufacturers of the weapons sold to the GIW for the express purpose of hunting and capturing ghosts.” Batman began, “The two adults are Madeline and Jack Fenton, ecto-biologists whose prejudiced views on Ecto-Entites seem to be the founding behind the Acts and the GIW.” 

The man in the photo was large, a sturdy frame encased in an orange hazmat suit and bearing a wide grin on his face, with an arm around his wife and children. Madeline Fenton was a slight woman, standing at a possible five foot eight and wearing a hazmat suit like her spouse. 

The children were the next to be spoken of, “The boy is Daniel Fenton, the youngest, and according to the information given, he was killed in a lab accident at fourteen years old.” 

The gasps of horror intermingled with the muttered curses before the Dark Knight silenced them, “Daniel’s older sister, Jasmine, was the primary caregiver for most of his life and after discovering her parents dissecting the town’s protector, a ghost by the name of Phantom, in the same basement lab Daniel died in, Jasmine allowed the Regent to claim their souls so the violence done to Phantom would be avenged.” 

It had been quite the shock for Red Robin and Oracle to read that, both at the evidence of cruelty and inhumane experimentation done to a sentient being (a child who died and protected the town) and the admittance that the Regent killed the humans to avenge Phantom.

It wasn’t until Hood grimly smiled and said, “Good for them.” that something clicked. 

Phantom was killed by the Fentons and avenged by the Regent of the Ghost King. 

(Jason had never been avenged, not like this dead kid.)

There was one file, a video, that Tim refused to share with anyone. 

The death of Daniel Fenton. 

…and the rebirth.

Contrary to popular belief, Danny wasn’t an idiot. He was born into a bloodline of brilliance, even if such wasn’t always used for the greater good. He had spent years fixing his parents failed inventions, doing the proper equations to figure out how something could work when in reality it had no business existing. 

(Designed to view a world unseen.)

He’d learned how to fly a jet and build one at fifteen out of sheer desperation, defeated the Ghost King in the same year…. And was almost killed fully by his parents. 

His vivisection scars had healed fully, his removed ribs having regrown, and he could transform without echoes of agony in his chest. 

(They had gotten far too close to his core.)

Point was, Danny knew there was something going on with his sister. She had been less talkative since their escape from Amity, but Jazz had been withdrawn since they took Jason to the Batcave. He had suspected that Jazz missed having someone to care for, considering that was the kind of person she’d been for as long as he could remember, but it didn’t seem quite right. There was something sadder in her eyes. 

Danny turned his focus back down to what he was doing, shoving the concern down to deal with later when he sees Jazz. Usually English was one of the classes he could relax in, considering he could now actually read the assigned books without worrying about ghost attacks eating into his sleep, but today Danny couldn’t focus on the teacher or the lesson. 

He’d had an idea for the ecto-comms, his own creation made from broken Fenton phones. His notebook, which was a mix of notes and half finished designs, was open to the original design of the comms. Danny had to account for Jazz’s helmet when he designed her set, but it was awkward at best to activate it when she needed to talk to him. 

Jazz needed armor to protect her vital organs even if her skin was incredibly durable. He’d seen some idiot unload a clip into Jazz’s back, not a single one had pierced her- that had been when she’d intercepted a smuggling ring from inside and had yet to summon her armor or sword. 

(The creepy head turn Jazz did to face the idiot was the stuff horror movies were made from.) 

(Danny was oddly proud.)

No, the armor was to protect against ghosts. Ecto-blasts would severely injure Jazz despite her liminalality, unlike Danny who could just go intangible or manipulate the ectoplasm in his body around the blast. 

“Did you hear about the Anti-Ecto Acts?” one of his classmates whispered from somewhere behind him, causing Danny to automatic tune his hearing into the conversation. 

“Yeah, that stuff is sick. Phantom is a pretty cool dude, even if he’s dead.” 

“He’s got puns for days, man.” 

“But still, ghosts?” 

“We got aliens, dude and you’re drawing the line at ghosts?” 

“Ugh, fine.” 

“Just read the whole article, man.” 

“It’s the daily planet.” 

“It’s Clark Kent and Lois Lane, dude, it’s worth the gag factor of metropolis.” 

Danny’s pencil snapped in uneven halves in his grip, confusing mix of emotions swirling in his chest. 

Anger-relief-cautious hope 

He’d given the Ghost Files to Batman as his last resort, believing in the hero and for his connection to Lady Gotham to sway him to give it a read through. Jazz had been adamant that if Phantom and the Ghost King was on that list, then she (as the Regent) would be too, though the two of them had argued against labeling Phantom as the Star King for the time being. Danny had grudgingly agreed to keep Phantom labeled as a Spirit of Protection, even if he went behind his sister’s back and gave Batman a list of his powers. 

(Danny still had nightmares of Dan.)

(He lost his parents, but he hadn’t lost his family.) (He had to remember that.) 

There were few things Jason would consider dear to him. 

His books, kept neat and orderly in his apartment. His vigilante alias, taken from his killer to be a force of change. His grave, as a reminder that he came back. He’d been surprised to see Joker removed from the rogue list, hopeful that it meant he was avenged the clown fucker was finally dead and gone. Dick had held him again when he finally broke down and mourned himself, relief in the fact his killer would never hurt another innocent. 

Never hurt his family again. 

Barbie had framed the autopsy report and given it to her dad, where it proudly rested on his desk as a reminder that the clown was knocked off by a blessed soul and his daughter would never be hurt by him again. 

The alley where his head remained mounted was a protected site in Crime Alley, enforced by both Red Hood and it’s people. A trophy for all of them to appreciate, because while they hadn’t been the ones to end him… they had survived to bare witness to the days free of Joker. 

Harley Quinn was free, the happiest woman in all of Gotham- no, the world! The demon who’d made her in his image so long ago was gone for good and nothing would bring him back. She was free of her ex, her origin story was finally finished. 

Jason counted the fact he was inadvertently avenged as the dearest part of what he was as equal parts man and shambling corpse. He was free of that burden. 

And he had the bone-deep instinct that he knew exactly who to show his appreciation to.

Part 10

[actualbird]

do you think the nxx ever cries or just… don’t deal with their emotions in a healthy way? they must be so emotionally repressed!

im so sorry but this is worded in a way i find absolutely hilarious omfg. do they cry or do they suck it up til the end of time? KJAHVSJFHAVSLFSFKJA

i like to think they Do cry, but my god it takes a Lot. this goes for All of them. like, we've seen in canon when the nxx boys and rosa cries, and it's usually during/after very high stakes or very emotional situations. some examples off the top of my head are

marius cries in SSR Unconcealable, the card where mc gets KIDNAPPED and then both of them get TRAPPED IN A FREEZER FOR A HOT SEC

mc cries in SSR Peaceful Place because she thought luke got shot and DIED,

luke cries in his Blossom Chapter Personal Story 4 because he thought mc DROWNED AND DIED

artem cries in SSR Two Hearts as one because he got so emotional acting like he was choking mc

vyn cries in...well, several cards like SR False Tears and SSR Neon Melody but those were 1) not exactly a "healthy" way of dealing with emotions or 2) caused by pepper spray KJHVSKJDF. im behind on vyn's cards, idk in which ones he cries honestly due to genuine in distress

so like, they DO cry. but it seems to take rather a lot to get them there. the flipside is that they also cry when overcome with immensely positive emotion (like, mc was on the verge of tears when luke finally proposed in SSR Orange Scent) so at least theres that!!!! but it's not much, chief....

all members of the nxx team all are IMMENSELY repressed. i think the most emotionally healthy of the team is DAVIS, which isnt a good sign, given that hes not even human

anyhoo this ask inspired me so

here are some misc headcanons on the nxx team and crying

i hc that luke as a kid was Such a crybaby. he'd cry over everything: when he saw a sad movie, when he saw a happy movie, when he saw a dog being walked but the dog was so dang small, when mc cries and his high empathy kicks in to make it Our Cry Session, just...he cried over IT ALL. he was just a very emotionally sensitive child, even to emotions from others. he eventually got emotionally steadier as he grew up but i think there are innocuous movies that, due to him crying over them as a kid, still make luke cry as an adult

[nxx movie night]

marius: man i love this movie, absolute classi---WHY ARE YOU CRYING??

luke: because ANYBODY can COOK!! EVEN A RAT!!!!!

mc, silently glaring at marius over luke's shoulder as if to say "Don't You Say A Mean Word To Him Right Now": O_O

(yes, they were watching ratatouille)

-

vyn has mastered crying on cue and can do it at the drop of a hat, but when he REALLY TRULY ACTUALLY is hit by the genuine need to cry for any reason, be it positive or negative, he cannot stop it at all until its run its natural course.

which is just AGONIZING for him, surely, but this is the price he has to pay for the power of being able to cry on command: not be able to stop when it's for realsies

marius: HAHA, CRYBABY

vyn: //throws a book at him because just cuz he cant stop crying, doesnt mean he cant attack

-

it slightly pisses everyone off a teensy bit that artem can cry artfully.

like, the single tear. the lines of silent tears streaming down his face. even the more desperate sobs. doesnt matter whether theyre stage tears for another play or if theyre during high stakes situations, artem seems to naturally cry in a cinematic manner

artem: //shedding a few tears because of the stress of an nxx operation or something

luke: hey it's okay, everyone's alright

luke internal thoughts: why is he so pretty while crying?????? .....wait what

-

and lastly, marius can hold back tears like nobodys business. like luke, he was a huge crybaby as a kid. but unlike luke, he held it back so much that when he DID cry as a child, it was REALLY CRYING. like wailing, like sobbing. it's heartbreaking to watch

so via his Entire Life Of Repressing Weakness And Related Emotions, he became rlly powerful at holding back the need to cry. it only happens during VERY EMOTIONALLY INTENSE scenarios ORRRR

during horror movies

because hes such a horror weakling and he gets so spooked that tears literally come out

mc: how did that jumpscare make you tear up but not the intro scene to Up

marius, hiding behind a pillow to avoid any more jumpscares: im a man of endless mystery, miss

thank you for the ask :D

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels Pt 31

Description: Miguel and Gabi have a little discussion, Miguel gathers info on your mother.

Pt 32 here!!!

"Papá?” Gabi’s voice is soft, hesitant, her face illuminated by the warm glow of the nightlight in the hall.

Miguel looks up from his computer, shoulders heavy, eyes burning from the harsh blue light of the three strategically placed screens.

Gabi is lingering in the doorway, hand on the doorknob, Oso under her other arm.

“Yes, mija?” He pushes back from his desk, chair wheels rolling smoothly over the rug as he turns his body towards her, his free hand minimizing his open tabs.

She shuffles in, mindful of staying away from any computer equipment, until she curls up in his lap, resting her head on his chest. “Why was Abuela being mean to Mamá?”

Miguel wraps his arms around her, silently cursing himself for not thinking about how she might’ve inherited his enhanced senses. “What do you mean?”

“She wouldn’t let Mamá go shopping with us, and then she said she was going to plan my quince, but I want you and Mamá to do that.” Gabi says, dropping her chin atop Oso’s fuzzy head.

“Your abuela is just having a hard time accepting Ms. y/n over your mother.” He says carefully.

“Why?”

Miguel says nothing for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he speaks. “Because she loved your mother very much, and she doesn’t like the idea of losing people.”

“Like Tio Gabriel?” Gabi asks quietly.

A wave of grief washes over him. He misses his brother desperately, even when they were at odds with each other they were still brothers. This universe his brother died long before Gabi was born, and his mother could never quite get over it. She clung to anyone new who came into his life, attempting to force them to fill the hole Gabriel left behind. Ava seemed to fit the mold for his mother, well enough that she was willing to put him and his family in peril for the chance to reconnect with her.

He was aware his mother loved his brother more; Gabriel was a shining, golden thing. The example of the perfect son, the one who didn’t come from an affair, who looked enough like the man Miguel called father for most of his life that no one questioned him. Miguel didn’t hate his brother, he never could, but he resented him for leaving him alone with their mother, for caving time and time again in every universe. He loved him deeply, protected him, counseled him, cried with him, cried for him at his funeral, he carried a part of Gabriel with him everywhere he went. They were of the same blood, he would never truly lose that part of his brother, and that was enough for him.

“Yes, like Tio Gabriel.” His voice falters for a moment, and he clears his throat. “But that doesn’t mean it’s okay for her to be mean to your mamá.”

“Is Mamá okay? I thought I heard her yelling while Uncle Brett was taking me back to the sheep.”

Miguel chuckles. “Your mamá was just very passionately defending us, that’s all. She’s okay.”

She nods and snuggles closer to him. “I don’t want to go shopping with Abuela if Mamá can’t come.”

“You don’t have to go shopping with your abuela for any reason if you don’t want to.” He reassures her.

“Okay…” Gabi says, stroking Oso’s ears.

“Is there something else bothering you?”

Gabi sticks out her bottom lip in a puppy dog pout. “I wish Nanna Nancy was my only grandma. She really likes Mamá. Why can’t Nana Nancy, Auntie Mon and Uncle Brett be our only family? Everyone else is mean.”

If Monica were here, she’d been over the moon at Gabi’s words.

He chuckles. “The only other family that’s here is your abuela.”

“And mom.”

“You don’t have to worry about her, she’s not going to bother us anymore.”

“Okay good.” Gabi huffs. “Now, if Abuela would stop being mean, everything would be perfect.”

He loves how simple some solutions seem to her, how if just one person would change, everything would fall into place. He wishes that were true.

“If only she would stop being so mean.” He echoes.

They stay up for a while longer talking, until sleep finally overtakes her, and he carries her back to her bed, gently tucking her in before slipping back into his office and locking the door behind him.

“Lyla?” He calls out, bringing all his tabs back up.

She flits into existence, heart-shaped sunglasses pushed up on her head. “It’s like two AM, why are you even awake? Don’t you have a fiancée to join in bed?” She teases, stretching her arms above her head with a yawn.

“She’s asleep. Now find me everything you can on Tiffany Robins.”

“Thinking about your next victim?” Lyla drawls, scrolling through her superhighway of information.

“Thinking about ensuring my fiancée is happy.” He replies, skimming the information as she flicks it onto his computers.

“Okay Ms. Tiffany Robins, lives in Nueva York, divorced, two children, y/n, and Leon, never been remarried, a lot of custody issues, a restraining order requested by Mrs. Rosaline Y/L/N, high level official at Serenity and Wellness, a company that sells wellness products, and self-help programs. It’s pretty successful, but they definitely don’t believe what they’re selling.”

“Can you get me her phone records?”

She gives him a pointed look.

“Please?”

“Already done.” She says, a Cheshire Cat grin tugging at her lips.

Tiffany: Y/N let’s get together soon; I want to make up for all the pain I’ve caused you.

Y/N: You said that last time.

Tiffany: Don’t be so stubborn, I’ve been seeing someone, and it’s really been helping.

Y/N: I don’t know, I’m really busy with work.

Tiffany: You can’t make time for your mother? I gave you life, and this is the thanks I get?

Y/N: Ok, ok, I’ll think about it.

Tiffany: I’ll be on your side of town in a few weeks, I’ll let you know when I’m there, we can meet then.

Y/N: I said I’d think about it.

Tiffany: I’ll make sure it’s not during school hours don’t worry, now I’ve got to go, I have a meeting to get to.

Miguel massages his temples. Obviously, your mother still believes she’s owed access to you, that she’s still in control of you.

There’s a call logged, from this morning, while he and Gabi were out getting donuts.

“Y/N I need to push back our meeting, I have to meet with a potential client that day, can you do a Wednesday instead?” Your mother’s voice is smooth, pleasant, and controlled.

“I can’t, I work on weekdays, I’m a teacher, remember?”

“Just put on a movie for them or something, I doubt it’ll be much different from your normal teaching.”

Miguel hears your voice tighten, can feel your hackles rising through the audio.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh my—saints above y/n, you’re so sensitive. I just mean that…well we both know how you struggled in school, and I mean they’re still so young, I doubt they’re really learning anything.”

“The only thing I struggled with was math, but I doubt you’d even know that considering you weren’t allowed in my life while I was in school.”

“That wasn’t my fault, it was your father and his whore, they stole you and your brother from me.” Tiffany complains, a hint of hysteria in her voice.

He can only imagine the rage flowing through you at Tiffany’s words.

“She’s not a whore.” You snap.

“You just can’t see it; you’re blinded by it all. But don’t worry, I know one day you’ll wake up and see that she’s not your real mother, and she’ll never be.”

His stomach drops.

“You’re not her mother, and you never will be.”

His mother had unknowingly repeated the words said to you about your own mother.

“You’re such a bitch.” You hiss, venom dripping from your every word.

“Me? You’re just a spoiled brat who abandoned her mother.”

“Aband—you know what? I’m not doing this with you, not today, not now. Goodbye, Tiffany.”

The call ends and Miguel continues to scroll through your mother’s information, a plan formulating in his mind.

Taglist: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @needsleep3000, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @youcantseem3, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue, @marcelineormars TL 2: @sxnasbitch, @111gltzpzy, @lucilavenxoxo, @ray-rook, @elizamelody, @soapbar99, @trashieboii, @erissco, @gardenof-venus, @vlads-dracula3, @yaoisenpaiii, @the-occasional-artist1125, @polireader, @mvchmp, @shadowxfheaven, @weirdothatwritess, @ash-aragami, @angelarcheangel, @nekotaetae, @namjooningera, @hana-1235, @amberpanda99, @joceymoo, @tfamidoingwithmylife, @itsashree, @battinsonwhore05, @namjooningera, @tortilla-chips-and-allioli, @fluffy-koalala, @fandom-ash, @angelarcheangel, @yuuotosaka3, @latersgaters-steven, @ariparri, @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast, @lycaninelizard, @angelarcheangel, @yuuotosaka3, @allysunny, @lollipopin, @allysunny, @loves0phelia, @tayleighuh, @namtaeh, @comeonatmebruh, @jacejawp, @cowboylikeevie

[crowfanity]

Finally decided to make some Ace Attorney textposts of my own!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

(ID under cut)

[ID: a series of nine textpost screenshots with character sprites from Ace Attorney to the right of them

First pic: a tumblr screenshot that says "You're unable to [pleading face emoji] out of the one whore." Next to it is a picture of Blackquill glaring and an opaque picture of Bobby Fulbright/The Phantom’s sprite making a similar expression to the emoji. The first comment replying to it says “can’t tell if this is meant to be sexual but i immediately imagined the irs saying this to me” with a sprite of Phineas Filch smiling next to it. The comment after that says “i’d love to study you”. Next to it is Athena Cykes’ sprite making a displeased face and sweating. End of first pic ID.

Second pic: a tumblr screenshot that says “of course, the best part of any character’s corruption arc is their cool new outfit” next to a sprite of Apollo Justice in Dual Destinies with bandages over his eye and arms and a blue jacket over his shoulders. His arms are crossed and he looks upset. End of second pic ID.

Third pic: a screenshot of a twitter post in dark mode. The tweet says “trust me i know everything i just can’t form a coherent sentence” with a picture of Sebastian Debeste with his arms out looking smug. End of third pic ID.

Fourth pic: a screenshot of a tumblr post saying “Best type of character causes at least 50% of their own problems and then cries about it” with a picture of Ron Delite looking with his hands tucked against his chest, looking like he’s about to cry. End of fourth pic ID.

Fifth pic: a tumblr screenshot that says “I’ve figured it out” in all caps. Then continues in lowercase: “my all time favorite character archetype is: guy who goes ‘i am the smartest boy. in the whole entire world’ and then immediately eats shit and dies”. Next to it is a picture of Miles Edgeworth with his hands out, looking smug, along with a smaller sprite of him from Investigations laying face down on the ground. End of fifth pic ID.

Sixth pic: tumblr screenshot that says “bitches say they’re fine and then scream the “I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all” in bohemian rhapsody louder than everyone else. Next to it is one of Apollo Justice’s sprites from Dual Destinies wearing bandages over his eye and arms with a blue jacket over his shoulders. His arms are crossed and he is looking at the camera with a determined expression. End of sixth pic ID.

Seventh pic: a tumblr screenshot saying “Guy at the bar keeps trying to pick a fight with you and when you turn him down and say you don’t want to take it outside he busts out the biggest, saddest, most shining puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. Next to it is two of Wocky Kitaki’s sprites. The first one is of him leaning forward with his elbows out and hands behind his back, looking intimidating. The second sprite is of him standing up straight and looking sad. His irises are noticeably bigger from the first sprite. End of seventh pic ID.

Eighth pic: a cropped instagram screenshot of a ceiling with text that says “just a heads up if I act dumb i’m joking. i’m 100% smart and know literally everything”. Underneath the text is a sprite of Sebastian Debest with his arms out looking smug. End of eight pic ID.

Ninth pic: a cropped screenshot of a tiktok video with text in the center. Behind the text is the top of someone’s head with a house, a bush, and a tree in the background. The text says “if y’all ever need me, just know i’m only about 5 missed calls & 3 text messages away” with two heart emojis before continuing to say “i’ll always be there”. Next to it is Phoenix Wright’s 3D sprite smiling at the camera with a hand on his hip. End of ID]

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Love In The Dark

Masterlist

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Based off Adele’s song, love in the dark.

Warnings: Angsty Oneshot, you break his heart, what a bitch.

You and Bucky had been through so much together. You were already a part of the team when he got deprogrammed and joined. Steve was the driving factor for you two to become so close. Steve trusted him, and you trusted Steve, so you guessed that meant you trusted the winter soldier too.

You fell in love rather quickly, it wasn’t out of a movie scene or anything. You were friends, and it slowly led to something more. You were tasked with being his seeing eye dog for the first few months, before he was sent out on any missions.

When the first mission was dropped on your desk, your boss said you had to prepare him, you had no clue how you would do it. That was the first night Bucky opened up to you, he cried to you. He was terrified of being violent. Scared that fighting would revert his mind back into a killing machine.

That was five years ago. You settled into a routine with Bucky, you got comfortable, that was a mistake. You were independent, brave, the new it girl of the Avengers. Now you can’t do anything or go anywhere without him. You only took missions that Bucky was also assigned to. You entangled yourselves into each other.

At first it was thrilling, you’re guilty of rushing things. It all felt so right in the moment. Like he was meant to be your lifeline. You were too clouded by love bombing to see how deep the hole you dug yourself was. It’s like you were drowning now, you weren’t a person anymore.

It was always Bucky and Y/N. The romance had died long ago, but you couldn’t bring yourself to end things. You told yourself you could fix it or you’d eventually fall back into each other. Your relationship was just based off convenience. You were two ships passing in the night most of the time, roommates it felt like. You didn’t know how your life would end up in another five years.

You know you have to end it, no matter how much he begs you to stay. With shaking hands, you knock on his door, stepping back when you hear him shuffling on the other side. He opens the door, raising his eyebrows at you “Why didn’t you just walk in?” He turns around, going back to his coffee table. He was dusting off old baseball cards in a brown paper bag.

You walk in, closing the door behind yourself. Making no moves to sit on the couch beside him, you stand there, giving him one last chance to do anything. When you doesn’t raise his head from polishing a clear card sleeve, you let out an exasperated huff. Tears try to form in your eyes, you feel them burning but nothings coming out. Your throat feels like it’s closing on itself, drying out instantly.

You take a deep breath, never blinking. You didn’t want to take your eyes off of him, “I can’t do this anymore.”. You finally say it, the five words you’d been grueling over for two years. It catches Bucky’s attention though, “What do you mean?”, he stands stepping towards you. You put your arms up, pressing your hands into his chest. “Please, give me space.”

He listens obediently, distancing himself from you. “Tell me what’s going on baby.” You scoff, he hasn’t called you baby in months.

“Don’t call me that.” You look into his confused eyes, “I want to be my own person Bucky. I’m breaking up with you.”

He invades your personal space when you say that. Wrapping his arms around you, he forces his face into the crook of your neck, “You don’t mean that, I know you don’t mean it. What’s wrong baby, it’s okay.”

You wiggle free from his grasp, “Give it up Bucky, it’s really over.” He steps back, his shoulders are rigid, “Why are you doing this?” Your heart starts beating out of your chest, like it’s gasping for air, begging you to stop.

“I don’t love you anymore.” You can’t look him in the eyes and say that, because you know it’s not true. You know this is the only chance to say everything so you rephrase it, “Rather, I love myself more. It’s better this way.”

“Better for you, not me.” Bucky’s face is strained, he can’t look at you. “You and I both know things haven’t been the same in a while Bucky, don’t act surprised.” Bucky took his chance to scoff at you.

“I haven’t done anything different, no changes, so what changed you?” He drops himself down on the couch, holding his head in his hands. Guilt fills you, like this is all your fault and not shared blame.

“Everything Bucky.” You sit beside him, holding his hand. “I’m sorry, but this relationship isn’t fair to either of us anymore.”

Bucky raises his head to look at you, tears running down his face, “I love you, I can’t let you go.” Tears finally spring to your eyes, it feels like you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. “You have to.”

He grabs either side of your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “I’ll do anything, I’ll be anything you want me to be, just don’t do this.” Your heart breaks, but you have to do this for the both of you.

You pull his hands away, standing up in front of him. “You’ll be okay, I promise.” Bucky shakes his head, in complete disbelief of what’s happening. You make your way to the door, only looking back once your in the hallway, his flesh hand was wiping tears from his eyes as he sobbed. You close the door, shielding your eyes from the damage you caused.

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (4) (teaser)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: TBD Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, best boyfriend Jimin, did I say angst????, past drug use, past alcohol addiction, past trauma talk, crying, anxiety, hand holding, touching as a love language, Jimin can't keep his hands to himself, pining, sexual tension, banter; to be continued.... Release date: 05/18/2024

prev || masterlist || next || playlist

“I forgive you. Now, why do you want to pack your life up for good?”

That made me laugh. It was a sad, pitiful sound. One that did not hold my usual spunk. One I don’t think Jimin had ever heard before. It was impossible to feel sad when he was around.

“I forgot how quiet my house is,” I admitted softly. “I love my friends, but I think coming back just reminded me of how easily I was able to fall back into the routine of it all. Jin and Andy are parents, Tilly has a new boyfriend, and Hoseok and Minho are always so busy with their own lives that I don’t see any of them as often as I would like to.”

Turning on my side, I blinked back a few tears.

“It might sound stupid, but I really do love Saline. I like how busy I am and all of my friends. I bought this place with the hopes of kids and a dog one day, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen, and now it’s just rooms collecting dust. I just-” I let a tear fall, my emotions starting to bubble over. “I don’t like how lonely it feels out here.”

“Doesn’t sound like you like it there. Have you always felt like this?” He asked.

I shook my head, the tears free falling in between sniffles and shaky breaths.

“Not always. Ever since Namjoon died things have been weird. There was a point when I felt suffocated because no one would leave me alone, and then one day everything resumed and I just got left behind. It was like I woke up and two years just passed me by.”

Jimin comforted me while I cried, telling me how much he hated to hear me so upset, while I worked on calming down. There had been a time in my life when I was not so emotional, but therapy had opened up a whole new side of myself I didn't know existed. Rubbing my face, I sniffled and sank deeper into my mattress. For now the waterworks had stopped.

“You were recovering,” He soothed. “Your body needed time to heal, and you were traumatized. I don’t think anyone can blame you for zoning out for a bit.”

I hummed, “I know. Doesn’t make it easier to swallow.”

“I know how you feel. When I pulled out of the Olympics last time there was a part of me that felt like a huge failure, but my dad was there to help get my head back on straight. He doesn’t seem like it, but he’s a really great shoulder to cry on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” My voice was like sandpaper. “James is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

I felt heavy. Worn. Used. My eyes begged for me to shut them, but we were just getting back into safer waters and I didn’t want to burst the bubble. I yawned, covering my mouth and hoping Jimin could not hear the sound. He had gone quiet.

“Can I ask you something?” Jimin’s voice broke through the comfortable silence that had formed around us. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Shoot,” I forced myself to smile.

“What happened to Namjoon?”

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags - Part 1: Be Still

AN: You will never know how many times I've smiled seeing all the notifications for this. Thank you for making my return to fan fic writing a happy occasion. I hope I live up to your expectations (and please bare with me when I say it's been a while (Do I dare say 8 years?!)).

We start off sad, but it gets better for these two <3

PSA: I will have the status of each part posted at the top of the Masterlist post. Check it out to see where I'm at :)

Copying or redistributing to another site is prohibited.

___________________________________________________________

❗️18+, strong language, angst, death of a parent/sibling, godmother reader/original female character, supportive dagger squad.

#3K Words

Masterlist | Part 2

You had gotten the call on a Friday night while working at the Hard Deck. 

You had rang someone up for putting their phone on Penny’s bar. The laughter was contagious, with lines of Navy pilots coming up to claim their free drink. Some of the Dagger squad were there enjoying the night: Rooster, Phoenix and Coyote, with whom you developed a fast friendship. You were only a few weeks back into the job you considered your saving grace during school. 

You were collecting empty bottles from the piano where Rooster sat almost every night. It was an average night. Then you felt your phone vibrate hard in your back pocket. 

Juggling the empty bottles into one handle, you answered it, initially not recognizing the number. 

“Hello, am I speaking to Elizabeth Beck?” 

“Speaking,” 

“I’m Ridley Beck’s Lawyer. I’m sorry to inform you over the phone, but your sister has passed away in an accident. Are you able to come down to Sacramento?” 

The two bottles slipped from your hand, shattering on impact with the floor. Someone must have boxed your ears and shoved cotton down your mouth. Your voice was hoarse as you managed a “Sadie. Um... What about Sadie?” 

Sadie, your ten-year-old niece. Sadie, who loved bugs and butterflies and singing. Sadie, who cried while reading books and asked about your day every single time you called. Sadie, who only had your sister. Sadie, who was now an orphan, alone and scared. 

“She is currently with a friend. As I understand, you are legally listed as her godmother.” 

“Yes, yes, I am,” You came up to grip your forearm as you suddenly felt off-balanced.  “Am I able to … Can I come and get her?” 

Your discussion with the person on the other end went over your head. Besides the person on the phone and your heartbeat in your ear, it could have been silent in the bar. You didn’t realize you had hung up your phone until Natasha and Bradley came up behind you to investigate the broken glass. 

“Elizabeth?” Phoenix asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?” 

You turned to face the pair, tears spilling over. “My… My sister just died.” 

“Oh, Liz,” Nat pulled you into her arms, pressing your head hard into her shoulder. You were failing miserably, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

“Your niece?” Rooster questioned, feeling his hand land softly on your back. 

“With a friend. I need to get her. I.. need to go to Sacramento.” 

You pulled away from Nat, wiping your eyes. You missed the look Bradley and Nat gave each other, too preoccupied with wondering how Sadie was faring and what might be waiting for you upon your arrival. 

“We’ll come with you. You shouldn’t have to do this alone,” Rooster still looking at Phoenix, who nodded. 

You looked up shocked. “You guys have training. You can’t just drop everything.” 

“I have some time left,” Nat quickly assured you before Rooster replied, “And I have a favour to cash in with Mav.” 

You shook your head, “No, I can’t ask you to waste it on me.” 

“Hey, we aren’t wasting it.” Nat pulled you back to her side, an arm securely wrapped around your waist. “You’re our friend. How many times have you taken care of our asses? Let us return the favour.” 

You relented. Penny let you leave early with tears in her eyes, a long hug and a promise you would call her when you arrived safely. The morning after, the three of you piled into Phoneix’s truck, beginning the journey to Sadie. While Rooster volunteered to drive and Phoenix slept, you couldn’t help but stare out the window, grieving the life you and Sadie would now have without your sister.

___

You thought the walk to Sadie’s friend’s house would have let you mentally clear your head. The drive from North Island had given you time to think about what you might say or what to expect. Yet, standing on the front step of the unfamiliar house, the words you so carefully considered escaped you.

You forced yourself to knock on the door, a wave of nausea hitting you with each passing moment. You smiled at the woman who opened the door. Thank yous spilling from your lips for watching Sadie. She only pulled you into a hug and gave you her condolences. The words, “I’m sorry for your loss,” hit you harder each time someone offered them. 

She invited you inside and led you upstairs to a room at the end of a gray hallway with a sad smile, “Take as long as you need.” 

You took a deep breath. The door was slightly ajar, and as you lightly pressed on it, your niece came into view through the crack. 

There she was, short blonde hair hiding her face, sitting on a bed in the centre of the room. A blanket had been wrapped tightly around her body. She was struggling, trying as hard as possible to control her sobs while her eyes remained fixed on a spot on the floor. You cursed her so-called friend for leaving her alone.  

 Placing three knocks on the door, her eyes shot up. 

“Hi, Bug.” 

“Aunt Liz!” she sobbed, arms abandoning the blanket to reach for you, red blotches splattering her face. 

You went to her, collapsing to your knees before the bed. Her arms clutched you tightly, and her head fell into your neck. Her struggle ceased when she touched you as if your presence permitted her to cry. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the wave of heart-wrenching sobs, her questions of why, why, why spilling out of her. For everything you thought about saying to her, in the end, what could you say or do but let her cry? 

You don’t know how long you spent kneeling on that floor, holding her as she finally tired herself out. Knees aching, you found the strength to move and speak after she resorted to sniffling into your neck. 

“I can never replace your mom, but you have me, Sadie,” leaning back, fingers softly tucking a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I’m always going be here for you.” 

She openly wept, “There was a storm, and she was coming to pick me up. There was a test, and I needed help. It's my fault she’s gone. If I didn’t need help, if I paid attention harder in class, she never would have...” You silenced her, placing your hands on her cheeks. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Bug. It could never be your fault. Please understand that.” She shook her head, her breath starting to pick up again. 

“Sadie, it was an accident. She could have walked here from the townhouse to get to you. She was in her car for another reason. It wasn’t your fault. Please, sweetheart.” 

Her internal struggle was written all over her face. “You weren’t the tree. You didn’t cause the storm,” your voice soft. 

Her eyes locked on to yours, teeth working her bottom lip. You could see the moment her face relaxed and a nod shortly after that. Your hand came up to wipe her cheek. 

“We have to go home now to sort out everything,” you took a deep breath. “It's going to be harder than anything the both of us will ever do, but we can’t put it off.” 

She nodded absentmindedly. “Do you think we could be strong for each other while we do this? Then when it's over, we can be there for each other?” 

She fiddled with the edge of the blanket, “Does this mean I’m coming home with you to North Island?” 

A pause. Then you nodded, “I know it’s not ideal, and your life is here, but..” 

She interrupted you, shaking her head, “I don’t wanna be here anymore, Aunt Liz. There are too many memories of her. It's okay.”  

Her understanding, and her wanting to leave the home she had known since birth, made a fresh wave of tears rush to the surface. You tugged her back into your embrace. 

“I want to be strong for mum and you.” 

Your tears fell. “I miss her too, Bug. More than anything.”

___

Rooster and Phoneix were waiting for you back at the townhouse. As the both of you walked up the driveway, you noticed a small trailer and cardboard boxes. They must have found them while you went to get Sadie. 

Sadie froze on the front step once she noticed them opening the door. She shifted behind your legs, hiding out of their sight. 

“Bug, these are..” you started to say but paused. 

“I’m your Aunt Natasha. This is your Uncle Rooster,” Nat finished for you, kneeling just a few feet away. Her eyes tracked from you down to Sadie as she added, “We’re friends with your Aunt.” 

Rooster followed Nat’s lead, kneeling on the opposite side of her, “We didn’t want you and your Aunt to be alone.”

Sadie peered out from behind your leg, eyeing Rooster carefully. “You’re Bradley,” She sniffed, wiping her nose. “You don’t have your parents either.”  

Before, you used to call them a lot, sharing the details of life in the Navy-centric town. Ridley constantly pressured you about finding a hunk of an aviator boyfriend, but Sadie was always interested in learning about the aviators you called your friends. You always entertained her. It didn’t surprise you she remembered Rooster had no family left. 

“No, I don’t,” He replied. A sad smile broke through your tears as you watched Sadie quickly step out from behind you to wrap her arms around Rooster’s neck. 

Rooster immediately looked up at you while returning her hug. Sadie curled herself into him tighter, her voice quiet as she asked, “Maybe we could look out for each other?”

Rooster closed his eyes and gave a soft smile before pulling back to look at her. 

“Of course, we can, Bug. We aren’t going anywhere.” 

___

In the first few weeks after bringing Sadie home, she only wanted to stay in your bed, wrapped up in one of the blankets you took from Ridley’s bed. The funeral was still fresh in both of your minds; the image of Sadie gripping Rooster’s hand as she dropped the first handful of dirt onto your sister’s coffin would haunt you for the rest of your life. As much as you were grieving your sister, she was grieving the only parent she knew. 

While you tried to process your own way and stay strong for your niece, Sadie tried to hide her struggle. The minute you returned home, you expected her to cave hard. But she didn’t. 

You had to give her credit. She was trying. A strained smile at the dinner table. A forced reply as you asked her how her day had been at her new school. She did all her chores and homework and ran errands with you. She never protested or acted out. Maybe she was expecting you to give first. Neither of you did—the promise to stay strong for each other lasted longer than you thought. 

Rooster and Phoneix came around a lot during those first few weeks. You had invited them to dinner one Saturday night as a thank you, and Rooster instantly sought Sadie out, finding her in your backyard pulling at strands of grass. 

He listened to her grieve, and as much as you wished she’d open up to you, you were happy she was talking to someone. Rooster understood what she was going through, and you were grateful he was there for her. And that followed when you couldn’t pick her up from school, Bradley eagerly volunteering where he could, taking her out after school. 

Then, one day Phoenix showed up at your doorstep with a soccer ball and a cheery smile. You had previously attempted to get Sadie outside, drives along the west coast with blasting music. Despite saying she had a good time with a soft smile, something in her gaze told you she was in pain. 

Nat pulled Sadie off the couch. The two often practiced in the backyard, Nat using the sport to bond with her. After learning she had difficulty fitting in at her new school, Nat taught Sadie how to confront the girls who picked on her. The part of Sadie who loved to be witty suddenly came back in full force when you picked her up from school one day, a smile on her face and an answer to your daily question of how her day had been. ‘Those girls wouldn’t bother me anymore’ was her reply. 

With Rooster came Maverick. The ‘fun uncle’ she liked to call him. Who took her flying and, after some convincing, on bike rides. You could vividly remember hearing the first burst of giggles through the headset while waiting on the airstrip, the first time she laughed since coming home with you. The sound healed a small part of your heart that broke with Ridley’s death. 

Penny spoiled her to no end when she came into the picture. Amelia usually spent Wednesday nights helping her with homework. Sadie’s love for reading returned full force, asking you to take her to the library almost every week. You eagerly obliged. 

Things improved drastically with Bob coming into the picture. Since returning to the Hard Deck, you hadn’t met the WSO initially, but after a tag along with Phoneix, he quickly became one of Sadie’s favourite people. He shared Sadie’s interest in everything related to insects. The nickname your sister teased her with, Bug, now an honorary call sign. Sadie was lighting up more, wanting to go on nature hikes with you and do things she was passionate about. 

Then out of nowhere, Coyote volunteered to barque on Saturday nights with the squad. Fanboy was geeking out with her over the most recent superhero movies. And Payback was suddenly playing video games with her, Mario Kart and Mario Party instant smack talk conversation starters. 

Almost every Saturday night, the Daggers were at your house, taking it upon themselves to be around whenever they could, to be part of your lives as you both adapted to a life without Ridley. You couldn’t be any more grateful.

You learned not all of the Daggers ended up in your Saturday Night group at one of Sadie’s soccer games. You, Rooster, Phoenix, and Coyote were sitting on a metal bleacher, sharing a bag of oranges as you watched Sadie. 

“Hangman comes back from Texas tomorrow,” you heard Coyote telling Rooster, who immediately scoffed.  

You pulled a face. “I know that name. Why do I know that name?” 

“He’s the one who saved Mav and Rooster on the Uranium mission,” Phoenix reached over to grab an orange slice out of the bag on your lap, soon followed by Rooster. “He and Rooster have a professional rivalry.” 

“Oh really?” You giggled. “I thought all the Daggers were back.” 

“Nah, he wanted to spend more time with his family,” Coyote replied before cheering for Sadie as she made a break for the ball.

‘Hangman,’ the call sign replayed your head. Penny often warned you about the pilots who came through the Hard Deck. More often, it was to warn the unfortunate girls who simply wanted to enjoy a night out. Or to recommend going after if they wanted a good time. 

Then it clicked, “Oh, Penny has his name on the list in the girl's bathroom.” 

Rooster squeaked out almost choking on his orange, “That thing exists?!”

You and Phoneix snickered. “Why, you wondering if you made the cut, Bradshaw?” 

Rooster’s weak throw of his orange peel had the both of you leaning back, trying to escape, laughter and protests spilling from both of your lips. Coyote could only shake his head. 

You knew the humorous story behind Rooster’s call sign and the more dauntless one behind Phoneix’s. Coyote got his simply by yipping at every successful moment or when someone was playfully dragged. But something like Hangman? Taking a guess, his story was nothing like how your friends got theirs. 

You hesitantly asked, “How did he get the name?”

Natasha was the first to reply. “Back in basic during our first dog fight. He left his wingman out to dry. Don’t know what he was trying to prove, but his wingman was marked within seconds. He got one hell of a breakdown from the instructor, calling him the noose that would kill anyone who would fly with him.” 

“He’s run with it ever since. Proving it in more ways than one,” Rooster added. You could practically hear the eyeroll.  

Your disappointment was evident, “Ugh, I’m surprised it's not just his name on Penny’s list.” 

Suddenly a round of replies went around the group. 

“Yeah, he’s not going anywhere near Sadie or you,” Rooster sneered. 

Coyote pipped up, eyes still on the game, “He may be my friend, but we don’t need him to be an asshole around Sadie.”

“He’d flirt with any female within a five-mile radius to get them into his bed, and you don’t deserve that,” Phoenix scoffed. 

You weren’t surprised. The cocky aviator type was a personality you frequently saw with the younger pilots working at the Hard Deck. Being accepted into Top Gun gave them the impression any woman jumped at the chance to be another notch in their bedpost. Several proved differently, but more often than not, you were rebuffing attempts. 

You frowned. Sadie getting hurt was continuously on your mind, often wondering what it would take to knock down the progress she had made these past few weeks. A cocky pilot who left his teammates out to dry? It was possible, but you only liked to judge someone after you met them. 

“He doesn’t get invited to Saturday nights.”

You whipped your head. “Rooster! I will not exclude someone from your squad because of some rivalry. You guys shack up at my house whenever you please. I won’t be responsible for your team falling apart because somebody wasn’t invited to someone’s birthday party.” Then an afterthought, “Watch him not come anyway.” 

“Liz, why do you think Penny’s strapped for bartenders? Particularly of the female sort?” 

Penny’s plea for you to return to your old job included a long-winded speech about her difficulties retaining staff. The story she told of a girl with a broken heart after a one-night stand came to mind. 

You let out a long groan, head falling into your lap at the implication, “He hooked up with them?” 

“We think he has a thing for bartenders. We have a tally.” 

That explained why Penny put his name up in the girl's bathroom, why she was subtly dropping hints about you ‘having a good head on your shoulders’ since you returned. 

“We like you, and you’re our friend. Please don’t fall for his charms. For Sadie’s sake.” 

You reached over to pat his shoulder, “I’m a big girl, Bradley. You should know by now guys like that don’t phase me. I’m not the type who does one-night stands.” 

Rooster squeezed your hand before his attention shifted back to the game.

As you watched Sadie pass the ball to a team member who shot up toward the goalie, you couldn’t help but focus on their words.

Hangman sounded like being a dick was a large part of his personality. He wouldn’t have wasted the opportunity to do something creative on his helmet with a call sign like his. His ego wouldn’t let him.  

As the boys cheered for the goal on Sadie’s team, you leaned over to Natasha, 

“Don’t tell me. His helmet, like the game…. certain letters are missing?”

Phoenix shrugged before drinking her water, “You said it, not me.” 

You pointed your finger in your mouth and gagged.

Tag List: @blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891

Are you interested in joining the tag list? Leave a comment or let me know!

Jake is in the next part!

Wickett :)

[xappetites]

idk why i keep thinking that Frank Woods would have a ranch somewhere? like there’s no animals or anything it’s just land and a comfortable little house dead in the middle of it

so of course he tells himself that it’s logical that afab Bell shows up at his doorstep like a beaten dog two months after the last time he saw her in Solovetsky, with less than ideally healed gunshot wounds from her second assassination attempt. Of course, it’s just that here’s a lot less likely that anyone would find her

And he takes her in, because it might’ve been fake for Adler but she’s fucking tore through hell right at Frank’s side with ample opportunity to either kill him herself or just let him get turned into mincemeat by the reds. She’s ended up under him more than once too, shaking and clumsy and laughing against his mouth in the residual adrenaline rush. More chances to off him, or to try and leverage his attraction to her, that she didn’t take. That Frank’s now convinced she wouldn’t take, not because she isn’t capable of it, she just likes sex too much to use it as a weapon.

She likes Frank too much for it, he realizes in the couple days it takes for her to stop looking over her shoulder with every creaking floorboard. When she asks him to drive her into town to exchange the small fortune in Swiss francs she smuggled into the country all the way from Zurich. He can’t fucking help it, the question that stumbles out of him without more than a second’s thought: ‘Why didn’t you go back to Perseus?’

Bell shifts, looks from Frank to the copy of John Hersey’s Hiroshima he’d given to her after a comment on nuclear armament even he thought was tasteless, the same book he caught her crying over months later and now sits in her bag, half buried in foreign bills.

‘I couldn’t,’ she says, then a minute later, as if it just occurred to her, ‘he’d kill me anyway, after Solovetsky’.

It takes a few more weeks for her to end up in his bed again, and she still smiles as soon as he nudges his dick inside her, still laughs at the burn of his beard on her neck. She still comes clutching onto him like he’ll disappear or leave, discard her as soon as he fills her. Bell mumbles out his name and Frank feels his heart caught between her fingers as much as his hair is at the moment, because for her that’s the most reasonable fear to have.

So he doesn’t. It’s not like he was gonna leave his own fucking house, which in a way feels like the only thing he’s ever really owned, but he won’t kick her out either. And he doesn’t mention her to a single soul who knows her, not even Mason. Especially not when she starts going out, more fearless each time; when she starts to teach a self defense class in town on Fridays or taking drives to the next county over whenever she has a nightmare, just to convince herself that she’s not in a fake town, and she comes back with a cheeseburger for him each time.

Cause then she starts to become his Bell again. The one capable of dead devotion, who chose to do the right thing in the end. The Bell that died twice and came back better every time, that saw an old worn fuck like him and called it home.

Bell, who he accidentally wakes one night when he comes sweating out of his own bad dreams and offers to join him for a cigarette out in the front porch, who convinces him to put on a sweater and settles on his lap in silence, blowing little smoke rings into the gold light of dawn.

The woman who cries against his shoulder when he lets spill that he loves her like horrible word vomit, and tells him she loves him too.

[heartsforellie]

Loser!Ellie head cannons

(This is my first post so lmk if I fuck up)

Warnings: none

Loser!ellie x fem!reader

•I feel like she would listen to weezer or boygenius

•definitely uses ramen or any snack she can find in her dorm as her main source of food

•let’s just say she doesn’t have the healthiest diet

•if you guys are ever on a walk and she sees a frog or lizard? Congratulations, you have yourself a new pet.

•would fs name it something stupid like ball liner or soggy bread

“His name is gonna be… toe clippings!”

•and it would definitely die after a few hours since she put it in a Tupperware with no air holes

•navy blue bed sheets. That’s it.

•religiously drinks pink lemonade, like you two can go to the fanciest restaurant in town and she will still get lemonade

•extremely unathletic. Like she can sleep until two and still fall asleep at 9:30.

•wears any pair of shorts she can find and a random oversized t-shirt.

•has atleast one astronaut poster. Nvm who am I kidding? She has a TON.

•wears vans

•loves when you do her hair, even tho she acts like she hates it. One time when you had braided her hair in two pigtails.

“Do I REALLY have to wear these to the store?”

•can and will plague you with the fact that she knows how to play the law & order theme song on the guitar

•hates coffee but LOVES coffee ice cream

•definitely uses head and shoulders shampoo and dove body wash. Smells pretty okay.

•unpopular opinion: she wears a little bit of makeup. Just mascara and lip balm. don’t fight me:(

•loves Disney. Merida is fs her favorite.

•said she liked horror movies when you first started dating to impress you, but the first time you watched one together she cried when a dog died

•will not hesitate to call you in class or blow up your phone with stupid Danny devito memes

[webslingingslasher]

Heartbreak Girl

TASM!Peter x reader

Genre: sad, fluffy fluff fluff.

Word Count: 2K

Summary: Reader breaks up with her boyfriend and Peter is her best friend. Peter is finally able to admit how he feels.

I wrote this for my friend who just went through this and is hurting a lot right now. She needed a little Peter TLC and I delivered. @bigbysstones I hope this helps a little on easing the pain in your heart. You're allowed to be sad, the pain won't last forever and take time to love yourself.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s going on?” 

Peter's words were soft, his hands coming up to grab your shoulders to get a good look at your face. Tears were running down your face, face flushed and breaths hard to control. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so upset, yeah you’ve cried in front of him. He’s your best friend, and it’s always been from a sad video when a dog dies and they give it the best last day, or when a soldier returns from war and surprises their kid. 

He remembers you coming over one night similar to this, just upset and crying and trembling breaths. Your second grade teacher had died, which even you admitted to him was silly but you had loved her, she made school a second home and interesting. When you didn’t have time for breakfast or forgot lunch she always kept snacks at school. When your mom didn’t do your hair one morning she was there to fix it up for picture day. She was a mom away from mom. 

And when she died the only thought was Peter could fix this, not your boyfriend. 

Peter had calmed you down, he held you and shushed you while he ran a hand down your back. He had talked to you about it, he asked you to tell him your favorite stories about her to relive the better parts of your memories from her and not the most recent one of her death. It worked too, slowly the tears stopped and your breaths evened and you gave him the biggest hug imaginable because he always helped your racing mind to stop and take a break. 

But tonight you had to go to Peter because there was no boyfriend to fix this. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You shook your head no, words weren’t even on the radar. The only thoughts circling your brain were breathing and having no boyfriend anymore. You couldn’t believe it, it had been a year. He was so good, he cared and he loved harder than you could’ve thought possible. Not anymore. 

Peter couldn’t stand looking at you anymore. You were shaking and stuttering on sobs, he pulled you into a hug finally. His arms holding you securly, he wasn’t sure what hurt you but as long as you were here it wouldn’t hurt you again. 

His hands were warm, his palms were burning into your back each time he passed your shoulder blades. His thick hands were melting you into him, at a point you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began, you were whole with each other. 

And you weren’t sure if you were ever whole with him. 

“I broke up with him.” Your words were uneven, they wavered and cracked. The admission made it all too real. 

Peter’s hands came to a stop. He never really liked him, he wasn’t a bad guy at all. Peter could tell he did care for you, but not in the way Peter could. And he did love you, but not in the way Peter did. There were times he did things that you complained about that Peter would tell himself ‘I wouldn’t do that’. 

He had seen you cry too many times, upset too many times, sad and uncomfortable and push over too many times. He loved you too much to see you go through that, especially because he knew better people were out there for you. Even if the other people he thought of were himself. 

“With who? Him?” He knew it was a dumb question but he couldn’t believe you actually did it. You told him last week how shifty he got out of nowhere and started to distance himself but you weren’t on the breakup train so he’s not sure how you got to the station. 

“No, my other boyfriend.” Peter rolled his lips in his mouth when he heard your tone. You snapped at him, like you were angry he was speaking to you right now. Instead of instigating he continued to hold you to him as you cried, you would calm down eventually and he would get the story but right now all you needed was for him to be there. 

“I’m your other boyfriend. Did you dump me?” He spoke the words in your hairline, his mouth pressing a kiss to the spot. Your breathing settled and you pulled back from him, you looked at his shirt and felt embarrassed at the tear stains. 

“I’ll loosen the wheels on your skateboard and you’ll fall and I’ll laugh.” You threatened. Peter’s smile broke across his face, “If I make you laugh it doesn’t matter how broken or hurt I am.” His words were supposed to make you feel better but you felt worse, your boyfriend- your ex boyfriend made it his job to make you laugh. When did he quit? 

Then, the anger took over. You were so sad but now it feels dumb, he had changed out of nowhere. You can plan for a change in time or weather but you had never planned on him changing his mind. He went from the caring, sweet charming boy you were proud to call your own into someone you didn’t recognize or want to see anymore. 

Even looking back now you weren't sure when he changed, it was almost like he was quiet quitting. It first started with Ted, Ted was his best friend and yours by association. So when Ted started talking about the football game they went to you hit your boyfriend with the side eye, because he said he had plans with his dad that day. In fact he canceled on you to help out his dad, and if he said he had plans with Ted for a football game you wouldn't have cared, but the fact he lied about it sent alarms off. 

Was that the first time he did it or the first time you caught on?

Because when Ted said the words your boyfriend hit him with a sharp look that even had him tucking his head in his shell. Then when you brought it up it was a fight, and he never started fights. It went on and on and halfway through it had more to do with him yelling at you then it did with him trying to defend himself. You knew then it was coming to an end. 

You balled your hands into fists and beat them on Peter’s chest. He told you once when you felt like punching someone to punch him, he could handle it. Peter stood still and watched you pound onto his chest, your breaths grew ragged and grunts were coming out of your mouth. You faltered and hit harder, punching Peter with more force than he could’ve imagined coming from you. You slowly stopped, your last punches rested on his chest and you broke into a sob. 

You weren’t even upset at him anymore, you were upset with yourself. Why are you letting him get satisfaction? He didn’t even care. He didn’t even care. He didn’t even care. He didn’t even-

“He didn’t even care!” 

You breathed quickly in and out your mouth. You pushed Peter away, you were telling him what you wished you said to him. 

“He was so fucking mean! So god damn fucking mean and I dont know why!” 

“He didn’t even care, Peter!” 

You ran your hands through your hair, you felt how much of a mess it became and pulled at the roots. 

“He didn’t fucking-” You stomped your foot, Peter winced but stayed silent. He was letting you express your bottled emotion. 

“He pulled away from me! Like I wouldn’t notice. I gave him everything, Peter. He was my everything. I loved him, I loved him so much, Peter. Why didn’t he love me enough back?” 

Your words dulled to a whisper, you looked down at the ground defeated and lost. Peter noticed you needed an answer, one he couldn’t give. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know how he could do that. I really don’t know.” 

You nodded at his words. 

Peter squeezed his eyes shut. 

“I wouldn’t have done that.” He looked towards you with lights in his eyes.

Your head raises to look at him. 

“Wouldn’t have done what?”  You were tiptoeing around the conversation. 

Peter let out a nervous laugh, you put him on the spot. He didn’t like it. 

“Anything he did.” 

He shrugged and looked at you, he took a breath and continued. 

“I would have answered you when you called. I would’ve drove down to Buxley’s to get you after Vanessa wrecked her car. I would’ve cried when Ryan Gosling died in The Notebook. I would’ve told you I was going to a football game. I would’ve let you come see my sister in her play with my family. I would’ve let you play whatever music you wanted in my car when I drove.” 

“You don’t drive.” 

You cut him off for the first time since his spiel. He frowned at you for interrupting, you held your hands up in a surrender and let him continue. 

“I would’ve let you win at skeeball because I could tell you needed to win more than I did. I would’ve laughed at your jokes no matter what because I know you held it in all day to tell me. I would’ve done it right.” His words tapered at the end, he lost his steam. His confidence slowly disappearing, he didn’t even know why he said all that. It’s not like you were going to- 

“Done what right?” You breathed out the words, you knew what he would’ve done right. 

Peter smiled at you. It was just enough his lips curled up, his eyes looked almost sad. It wasn’t pity but it was full of emotion he wasn’t sure you could give back. It was vulnerability. 

“Love you.” 

He laughed a little, just enough to ease the tension of his words. His eyes swung towards the floor with his honest confession. 

You laughed back. 

“You already do, silly. You’re my best friend.”

Is that what he meant though? 

He shook his head, he looked at you in the eyes. His next words were to you only. 

“Not like a best friend. I could love you like you’ve never been before. I know because I already do.” 

You stumbled a little. He said it, you knew that's what he meant but the confession made it much more real. You knew you loved him too, more than friends. It was always a will they, won't they with you two. But that’s how it’s always been, always on the cusp of dating or not. When you started dating… him, you missed Peter. You still hung out and talked but some things weren't the same. The hugs weren’t the same, you no longer sat on his lap on the bus. He stopped squeezing your hips from behind, he stopped loving you like you wanted him too. 

“Peter.” 

You weren’t sure how to say the next words. 

“I get it. I really, really do. And I think I could love you in ways you haven’t been before either. But, I just ended things with someone and I don’t think I can do this with you right now. I don’t want to say no, I really don’t want to say no.” 

You started to have tears forming in your eyes, you weren’t ready to love two loves in one day. 

Peter shrugged his shoulders and approached you, his hands cupping your face. 

“Then I’ll wait for you.” 

He said it with no hesitation. You were his heart, and he loved you so fully that nothing would keep him from you. Time, seasons, boyfriends or tears. 

“You’ll wait for me?” 

You placed your hands on his. You sniffed and he brought his forehead to yours, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. He whispered his words, they were for you and him only. He would wait a hundred lifetimes to have one with you. 

“Forever and ever.” 

[missmeinyourbones]

I WAS BORN SICK (BUT I LOVE IT)

cw: mentions of blood and scars, mentions of touya’s backstory & family, saw the new pic of little touya and this appeared

As Touya Todoroki sits on the floor of his bathtub, cold and trembling underneath the consistent stream of the shower head, he finds himself thinking of you. 

Maybe you’re in the bath, too—muscles unclenching as they seep beneath the warmth of scolding water and steam. Maybe you’re in bed, a book resting to your left as you doze off in the comforts of your cotton linens. They’re soft against your skin, unlike his scratchy sheets that irritate his legs. Maybe you’re cooking dinner, and the small apartment kitchen you occupy is filled with the scents of spices and heat and love. He hopes you’re relaxing, at peace, wherever you are.

Peace, he echoes. The word tastes foreign and sour on his tongue. 

He thinks of his younger self—of a small child with flaming red hair and the drive of a fire engine. He wants to grab him by his boney and sore shoulders and shake him until he cries. He wants to hold him, to tell him to run and don’t look back. Tell him to start new before he can be ruined by his own flesh and blood—by his own father.

His father. A man with a burning desire to outlast, to overpower. A coward who turned him into a weapon and then got mad when he did what weapons do—destroy. 

He stands up from the cold ceramic tub and turns the faucet off. He doesn’t even think he washed himself, he can’t remember. He’s pretty sure he just sat underneath the water for about an hour, knees clutched to his chest like an incompetent and weeping child.

He’s wrinkled all over—except now, it spreads across the few patches of pruney pale skin he has left, not just the plum-colored bumps decorating his limbs. 

He grabs a towel hanging from the rack and runs it through his soaking wet hair, shaking his head around like a wet dog. Wiping his face, he leans onto the sink for support. 

He looks in the mirror at his reflection. He thinks of cutting his hair, for the sole purpose that he can’t get his hands on anything else worth cutting. He can’t sear off the split ends of selfish people or unwanted memories with the rusted scissors from his kitchen drawer. Maybe if he cuts it shorter, he’ll look less like himself—or less like whoever is currently staring back at him in the foggy bathroom vanity.

No, he decides against it. Because again, hair is temporary—just like everything in his life seems to be. It doesn’t matter whether it’s black, white, or red. 

If he cuts his hair, it will just grow back. If he bandages his wounds, they will bleed at the next tearing of skin. If he calls you up and invites you over, you might stay the night, but you will slip through his fingers with time. He’s certain of it. 

He thinks it’s better to let himself suffer. Wait by the phone like a feigning addict for your call, just to ignore it and let you move on—from him, from whatever hurt and disappointment that he will inevitably place on you. Cold turkey, rip the bandaid off, stop it before it even begins. 

But it's already began, because now it has to end.

And Touya regrets ever knowing you, because he knows he has to live a life without you.

Maybe the two of you could’ve had a chance if you’d met ten years prior, before he died for nothing. Before he dreamed for three years just to wake and find himself written off as dead, gone, buried. 

Before he returned home to see the same reflection of himself in his younger brother beaten and bleeding on the floor, the same shadow of a father standing above him tall and broad and far too strong.

Maybe you would’ve stopped them from prematurely building a shrine to silence the suffering mentions of his name. Maybe you would’ve waited for him. He could’ve shown you around Sekoto Peak.

A younger version of you might’ve known peace, maybe it wasn’t too late for you to rub it off on him. He’d always been a quick learner. That’s what his mother would say.

What if you had a smile brighter than his flames, before they turned a strained and burning turquoise? What if the color of your barrettes complimented the cherry of his hair nicely? 

The two of you could’ve left together, gone somewhere rural and lonely and your own. He didn’t have to do the things he did, walk the road he’d forced himself to choose. You would have Sunday dinners, rainy day laundry, morning showers, and sleepless nights. All with him, all with each other. 

But it was all too late.

You found him too late. All chances of redemption for Touya Todoroki came too late. Too late too late too late.

And now he’s like this—barely held together with rusted sewn staples and a fire he can’t put out unless someone loses. Unless his father perishes at his hand, or unless he dies trying. You deserved to know the him before the accident, when he had the potential to be something worthy of your love. When he had the chance to become a better man, to become a better lover. 

The apartment he’s managed to lock down is nothing close to a home, not like how your small place feels warm and tender to the soles of his feet. How he can breathe without thinking in your presence, but struggles to gasp in his own. The lights barely work, the floors are barren of rugs, the sink is filled with dirty dishes and packaged leftovers to be thrown away. 

A knock is heard against his door, light and thrice as knuckles wrap against the uneven wood. There’s only a handful of people it could be, as limited contacts know of his current location.

It could be Hawks, here to pretend to be his friend while scouting his place for fingerprints. Or Shigaraki, needing a place to lay low for a few days before traveling like a phantom beneath the city. 

He doesn’t know why he lets his mind entertain itself with hypotheticals, because he knows it’s you on the other side of the door.  

He doesn't open it, but you feel the weight of his back rest against its frame with a thump. You know he’s right there, separated by a single piece of wood that could be disintegrated within seconds if he pleased. You know he’s fighting something off, wrestling with his own thoughts of who and how and why. You know he’s refusing to let himself become yours.  

Your whisper is muffled through the door. 

“Touya,” your voice is shaky, but somehow still allows relief to surge through his veins like electricity, “can I come in?”

Touya will let you go. He will free you from his own personal shackles of death and despair and destruction. He’ll rid you of the dark cloud that follows him everywhere he goes, hovering over his head and contaminating all of those around him. 

He will—just not today. 

“Yeah, doll,” he closes his eyes and steps forward, though his back remains facing the door.

“You can come in.”