#i lied it's not 3am it's only midnight

[that-disabled-princess]

And THEN They’d do something He liked least of all! Every Family of Old, the tall and the small, Would stand close together, with Christmas bells blasting, They’d stand hand-in-hand. And the Families would start casting!

They’d cast! And they’d cast! AND they’d CAST! CAST! CAST! CAST!

--How the Mage Traumatized Christmas, @shrekgogurt

Happy birthday, Mary!! Is it the middle of July? Yes. Did I choose this fic anyway? Yes, yes I did.

This fic gave me the most perfect laugh tonight after a very stressful, anxiety-inducing evening. I had so much trouble pulling a quote from your fic, but I ended up going with one that made me laugh the most.

I've enjoyed getting to know you, Mary! Wishing you all the best on your birthday 💖

Quotes from @ionlydrinkhotwater @ileadacharmedlife and @raenestee.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

☕️ CM Meet Cute Fics 📚

Hey friends! I want to start by saying thank you so much to everyone who participated - You are appreciated and the diversity only makes these events better.

Without further ado, here are all of the entries + recs for the Meet Cute Challenge! 🤗

@emberfrostlovesloki 's Masterlist of Entries: This lovely prolific writer has entered several fics, which include Hotch/Reader, Emily/Reader, and Spencer/Reader fics! Check out their page for even more!

P.S. At the end of this post, I included all my fics for this challenge!

SFW S.R./GN!Reader

Heart Language by @foxy-eva: Spencer has a crush on his doctor (and the feeling is mutual)

Warmth by @cecedownbad: A mystery man stumbled on to you, his gestures alone changing the dim scenery into a bright fantasy.

And in the Beginning... by @milla984: After spending a day at D.C.’s multifandom convention, Spencer spills his coffee on Reader.

(Not So) Stupid Things by @railingsofsorrow: Reader is a detective on a case the FBI is called to work on. While trying to make a good first impression, they forget that Spencer doesn't shake hands.

Frights & Fractures by @therealmsdelulu: Spencer accidentally gets hurt in a spooky attraction and Reader, a scare actor, breaks character to help.

Style Theory: Fashion student Reader meets their favorite scholar and teaches him a lesson in self-love.

SFW S.R./Fem!Reader

The Perfect Seat by @/foxy-eva: Reader's never liked crowded trains until a handsome stranger fell right into her lap.

Funny Thing Fate: Autistic!Reader is tipsy and lost in D.C. when she spots a man she thinks might be able to help.

Coffee Caramels by @007reid: Reader sits next to a stranger in the theater, but the two end up bonding when there's a technical glitch.

Every Single Day by @astrophileous: When his daughter demands to hear the story of how Spencer and Reader met, he must oblige.

War and Peace & Coffee by @drgenius-reid: Spencer meets a lovely stranger in a coffee shop where they read together.

NSFW S.R./Fem!Reader

In Full Bloom by @/foxy-eva: A random interaction between Spencer Reid and Reader leads to weeks of longing and yearning until they decide they have spent enough time being strangers

Get Lucky: It’s 3AM and a pipe burst in Reader’s apartment. She is soaked, angry, and forgot her wallet and phone. Her neighbor Spencer tries his best to make the night not terrible.

Elevator Pitch by @reiderwriter: Getting trapped in an elevator is never fun, but at least the attractive man sharing the metal box of death has an interesting idea about how to can pass the time.

And for my Next Trick... by @reidmotif: Reader and Spencer unknowingly match costumes at a Halloween party.

Assorted Fics (A.H., D.M., E.P., T.L., P.G.)

What a Ride by @alluring-andrayav: [SFW, Hotch/GN!Reader] Whilst on a bus ride to work, Reader gets knocked into a very handsome strangers lap.

Midnight by @foxy-eva: [NSFW, E.P./Fem!Reader] Emily is the most stunning woman Reader has ever seen, so she makes sure their night together doesn’t end anytime soon.

Falling for Me Already? by @alluring-andrayav: [SFW, Derek/Fem!Reader] It's Reader's first day of work, and her heel breaks. Thankfully, Derek is there to catch her.

Supervisory Special Agent by @alluring-andrayav: [SFW, Derek/Fem!Reader] Reader already met Derek, but neither of them realize it for a ridiculously long time because she has much bigger issues to worry about.

October by @gaelic-symphony: [SFW, Temily] The couple arrives in a couple's costume.

Adding It All Up by @masterwords: [SFW, Hotch/William LaMontagne Jr.] Hotch follows Reid and Jack into a haunted house. Inside he meets a ghost and stumbles right into some unexpected arms.

Collision by @codename-mom: [Gen Fic, Hotch & Penelope] A brand-new BAU is forming but there is still someone missing. The team masterpiece: a technical analyst.

Co-Creator NSFW Entries (S.R./Fem!Reader)

Devil in the Backseat: Reader is a little too much for Spencer (he’s into it).

Yellow Light: Everyone thinks Reader is dangerous. Probably because she’s Cat’s sister. But is that why Spencer likes her?

Big Bad Wolf (Part 1, Part 2): Spencer is overwhelmed by the apparent innocence of an elementary school teacher he meets on a case.

All Legs: Tall!Reader. Spencer meets a woman at an event and finds he really wants to be under her heels.

Co-Creator SFW Entries (S.R./Fem!Reader)

Serendipitous: Spencer’s pretty sure Penelope mixed up his blind date.

Dead Air: Professor Reid is hesitant to be a guest on his old student’s true crime video series, but is surprised to find it’s not so bad.

Porcelain: Autistic!Reader has a meltdown in the cafe. Luckily, there is a Dr. Reid nearby.

Baggage Claim: Autistic!Reader is having a hard time at the airport.

Mister Spencer: Reader has a crush on her child’s teacher.

Maddening One, My Goddess: Spencer has a one night stand… on February 13th. The next day, he is confronted with a familiar face on his pre-planned double date.

Studious Shadow: Reader’s crush won’t stop avoiding her at work and she thinks he might hate her.

Stranger Danger: Reader is a single mother having a very bad day.

Happy Reading!

Is your entry missing? DM me and I'll add you!

[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

Mc keeps the Brothers up at Night

Lucifer:

who gave Mc a trumpet to play at 3AM?

He better hope that 1. the person responsible will get punished, it was actually Lucifer who gave Mc the trumpet, but it was during the times his body was still awake and his brain shut down so he doesn´t remember and 2. someone takes it away from Mc before he strangles them

but because everybody else developed the ability to be deaf when they sleep it will take all of his willpower to not kill the only Human he cares about

but what made this even worse that no Mc wasn´t playing the Trumpet 3AM in the morning, no in an either completely brain dead move or the most Genius plan ever from them the recorded themselves playing them Trumpet covered their entire room in loud speaker, turned them on and decided to bail to the Human World

he doesn´t know if he should compliment or feed them to Cerberus if they ever come back

maybe he should do both

Mammon:

who decided it would be funny to cover his entire room in cursed Gold!?

which horrible and sadistic creature would do that!? actually he knows that this could only be Mc´s doing, seems like they couldn´t sleep again and decided to make it everybody else problem

as much as he loves them, they really make it difficult for him

and it doesn´t help that the Gold melted in front of his eyes and he may or may not have shed a tear over it

he lies he was ready to wake up the HoL form his crying, he thought he could finally be debt free T-T

and of course cruel reality and his even crueler Human had to ruin it

he´ll definitely have to think up something that would be even worse for Mc

he will get his revenge

Leviathan:

why did you blare the opening for his favorite Anime!? he finally fell asleep for once and now he´s so hyped he won´t be able to sleep for another week!

you´re going to be so dead when he finds you or I guess drowned would be more accurate considering he always loves to summon Lotan when something doesn´t go his way

and it turns out that you teleported away when he wasn´t looking and who knows when you´ll come back, or if you´ll come back at all

but if you come back he will first cry because he missed you and is glad that you didn´t abandon him and then flood the house using Lotan

Satan:

you played the sound of a distressed Kitten right outside of his window which forced him to jump out to make sure it´s alright

and because it was the middle of the night it took a couple of hours for him to notice that you just played an audio

and after he pulled out the pieces of glass he will hunt you until take your last breath, either naturally or because he helped speed up the progress

maybe he will only slightly kill you when you apologize to him or when you talk Lucifer into allowing cats into the House of Lamentation again

or you´ll deploy the emergency cats again, they might not save your life but they´ll buy you some time which could decided between life and death

Asmodeus:

he would have killed you for disturbing his beauty sleep alone but burning his clothes just so he´ll wake up will have him ruin everything before killing you

and if it wasn´t for the fact you were just out of sight when he woke up he would have succeeded because as soon as you noticed that he was awake you teleported away

which was very daring of you to tempt fate like this because one wrong move and you would have been turned into crimson dye and morbid new room decorations for him

you better not come back to the House of Lamentation any time soon or ever at all unless you got a really good apologizing gift for him

Beelzebub:

so you decided to steal his midnight snack that he needs to fall back asleep? you must have a serious death wish or you want to be his next dinner

either way you should be scared because he does not take the theft of his food lightly

he will hunt you down until the end of your life or you replace his midnight snacks

whatever comes first but for the midnight snacks he definitely wants 50 times the amount you took form him so you better start saving up some Grimm so you can buy the food for him

you don´t know what would take longer saving up for his snacks or hoping for a natural death while hiding from Beel

Belphegor:

honestly this sin´t even a night thing you just bother him the entire time to keep him away, the first couple of times he took it with humor but after this it´s on sight

he will hunt you for sport when he is awake that is so when you manage to sleep the same times as him he just can´t do shit

but if this goes on for to long he either just gives up because it isn´t worth it or tattles to Lucifer about you being a menace again

but considering the fact your always a menace Lucifer won´t do anything either

Belphie also does the opposite on what you tried which is him falling aslep on you and forcing you to sleep with him

[tokillamockingbird427]

i know its probably canon that logan can’t really drive for shit bc of odin, but imagine he taught himself secretly and just acts like he cant drive just for the fuck of it(mainly cause hes never put on the wheel in the campaign…). he would probably drive so bad on purpose that its somehow worse than keegans just for shits and giggles and to throw people off when hes actaully being serious when hes driving.

or, he somehow knows how to drive motorcycles and motorcycles only, but goes as fast as possible which scares the shit out of elias & merrick.

—🎧

Why drive if it's not to have fun? Blast "California Girls" through the speakers and aim the bumper at anyone on foot.

"Taught himself secretly" aka he just lies when asked if he knows how to drive because he thinks it's boring and doesn't want to. Passenger princess by choice. His choice specifically, no one else gets a say.

The others only find out when they catch him going out at 3am for a milkshake run because he's got keys in his hand and less fucks to give then when a $2 midnight snack is on the line.

Hesh low key mad he didn't think of just lying the first time he was asked if he could drive because he hates having other people in the car with him.

Tired: Keegan on a motorcycle Wired: Logan on a motorcycle

Cannot convince me he's not been hauling ass through the woods on a dirt bike before. His dirt bag era was waking the neighbors up at three am tearing shit up out there screaming and whooping like he's alternating between being murdered and attending a football game.

[badcaseofcasey]

call me, maybe?

When Derek gets a call from an unknown number at 3AM, it sets of a chain of events that leads to Stiles Stilinski would become a major part of his life. He's only kind of mad about it.

Or, five times Stiles talked to Derek on the phone and the first time they meet in person

Read the full fic on AO3

omg it's my first Sterek fic in years, I'm so excited. big thank you to kali, who won my Fandom Trumps Hate auction and prompted me to write this fic. I can honestly say I had so much fun writing it. The entire fic is posted over on AO3 (linked above). I hope you all enjoy! ☎️☎️☎️

There were a lot of perks to being a werewolf - and Derek means that with no sense of irony, even if it was something that had brought a lot of inconvenience into his life. It was definitely a perk to be able to tell exactly when his annoying neighbor was out in the hallway so he could avoid running into her and getting sucked into a twenty minute conversation about the condo association’s latest schemes. It also certainly came in handy as a firefighter that he could use his senses to tell if there was someone still left in a burning building that he and the team were trying to put out.

But there was one thing about being a werewolf that was unavoidably annoying, and that was super-hearing. It pretty much only came with downsides. Derek had overheard more conversations he never wanted to be a part of than he could count. (It was genuinely shocking the kinds of comments people felt comfortable making about his appearance when they assumed they were out of earshot.) Right now, though, Derek would like nothing more than to ignore the phone vibrating on his bedside table and get a few more precious minutes of sleep. Unfortunately, the soft buzz of the phone against wood was enough to jolt him awake.

He sighed and turned to look at the lit-up screen to see who exactly he was going to be yelling at for waking him up at 3 AM (God, really? He’d only fallen asleep an hour ago), but was surprised to see it was an unknown number. He debated answering for a few more moments before deciding that there was a chance it could be one of his sisters or betas calling from someone else’s phone, so it was worth it to at least check.

“Hello?” he answered the phone, voice still gritty with sleep.

“Scott! Oh my god, it worked. Okay, sorry to wake you, but I stayed up late finishing my final paper for Munroe’s class, but then I couldn’t fall asleep, so instead of doing my usual midnight snack routine, which I’ve been avoiding since I accidentally set a tiny fire in the microwave and woke the whole building up with a fire alarm, I decided to wander the halls, you know, as you do at 3 AM, and lo and behold, there is an honest to god payphone. I didn’t even know these things still existed! So of course, I had to go back and grab some quarters and try it out.”

Derek’s eyes had fluttered closed as soon as he heard the rapid fire voice, hushed to not disturb the quiet hours of the early morning. It was clearly a wrong number, but he was way too tired to try and interrupt the steady stream of words flowing out of his mystery caller. He was seconds away from hanging up and rolling back over when there was a pause on the other line.

“Scott?” the voice asked. “You usually interrupt me by now, did you fall back asleep?”

“Not Scott,” Derek replied, eyes still mostly closed. “But I was almost back asleep after being rudely awoken at 3 AM.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” the voice on the other end of the line rushed to apologize. “I swear to god I dialed my best friend’s number - it’s my first time using a pay phone.”

“You don’t say,” Derek said, voice sounding surly even to him.

“Okay, I’ll hang up now - sorry again, so sorry.”

Derek dropped his phone back onto the table and rolled back into bed, his eyelids heavy. He had nearly fallen back asleep when the phone rang again. He growled lightly when he saw the same unknown number flash across his screen.

“Still me,” he answered in lieu of a greeting.

“Oh god,” the voice said, clearly embarrassed. “Sorry again - I know what I did wrong this time, though! Your number must be one off from Scott’s - I was debating between it ending in 8845 or 8846- annnnd you definitely don’t care about that part. The good news is now I know, so you shouldn’t be hearing from me anymore.”

“Hey, kid?” Derek interrupted.

“Yes?” came the nervous voice through the phone.

“Get some sleep,” Derek replied. “And maybe, since you know the payphone works now, you can spare your friend the 3 AM wake-up call?”

“Good call,” he said. “Sorry again.”

Derek was already asleep by the time his head hit the pillow.

When he woke up the next morning, he saw a text from an unknown number. Confused, he opened it and saw a message from the kid he spoke to last night.

Unknown [4:37 AM]: sorry again for waking you up in the middle of the night! have a coffee on me if you need the extra caffeine today.

Beneath the text was a link to a Starbucks gift card. Derek rolled his eyes; if he was secretly grateful for the extra caffeine as he headed to the fire station that morning, well, nobody needed to know but him.

[ladyelissarose]

‘A Mother’s Revenge’

Chapter 6 ‘I Don’t Know’

Warnings: LONG ASS CHAPTER!!! But it does justice considering how long it takes to be able to write and put something out. Pay attention to details. Lost of guns and rifles mentioned, call of duty stuff. Drugs mentioned a few times. Enjoy :

Melione’s POV

“Alright Boys, Melione.”

I liked how he addressed me separately, such respect for women that work in a field full of men. Anyways, we all walked up to Price as he shifted his hands to hold onto his vest, while gazing at us with a disappointed look. It was 3am as we stood outside, waiting to see the reason why we weren’t on our way yet. He then began to explain,

 “Listen… Shepherd wants us to check something out, see which missiles we’re actually finding. The ones that Graves spoke to Melione about. So that’s what we’ll do first as we arrive in Mexico. Copy?”

 “”Copy Captain.””

“Then onward we go. Let’s get on board!!!”

Like perfect soldiers we followed our leader into the plane, ready to take off, and head off to the next step. I adjusted myself into my seat trying to get comfortable, maybe rest a bit before we actually arrive, for indeed I still felt exhausted. I sat in front of Ghost and next to Gaz, while Price stayed in the front with our pilot along with Graves, who was directing them to the exact place where the missiles rested. Thudding sounds on the platform of the plane could be heard approaching loudly and closer as Soap’s figure came into view, he was somewhat out of breath as he chattered like a little mouse,

“Sorry, was preparing one of my best teas for the ride and din’t wan’ it to spill as we took off. Want a cup lass- I said LASS not Ghost! Han’s off mate-“

I stood up almost immediately and politely shoved the tea in Soap’s hand towards Ghost as I insisted,

“Hey it’s ok, Ghost is used to you making his teas most of the time, let him have it-“

But surprisingly enough the cup was firmly put in my hand, by Ghost who gravely replied,

“no no... take it Meli. Was just pestering the Scot here.”

I let a soft huff of what could’ve been a laugh,

“oh! well thanks boys.”

After officially taking it I noticed Soap grin triumphantly at Ghost,

‘weirdo... hopefully this keeps me up but well rested.’

Soap’s POV

‘Alright lass... let’s see if this works-‘

“da fuck did ya do McTavish?”

‘O- he called me McTavish. Nice.-‘

“McTav-“

Before Ghost could try and whisper growl at me again I replied calmly,

“Rem’ber tha’ guy back in Tokyo? Da one who I gave tea to in the garage?”

“what-“

“you thought I was insane for not torturing him like you do. But saw him hearin’ fuckin’ colors by the time he went through it... and told us all the information we needed. Same is gonna happen here. Just watch.”

I guess it clicked for Ghost, the vivid memory of what I spoke about, because all that came out of that thick balaclava shite was a pleasant sound of agreement,

“Hmm.”

A few beats of silence followed afterwards, as we watched Melione contentedly chugging the tea, and finishing it as she tilted the cup all the way back, it suite with her head as she desperately tried to reach for the last drop. 

“Fuckin’ genius McTavish... though I have to mention it... I thought you tossed it-“

“-You’re kidding me? Shite is effective-“

“-Yes but Price-“

“-Said it was illegal yesss... but... he doesn’t have to know I still use it-“

“-True-“

“-Will you tell-“

“-Absolutely not. Because you remember our promise-“

“-That if I use it on you you’ll know and kill me and blame it on the drug-“

“-Exactfukinly.”

“Hmm hmm.”

He side eyed me with a twinkle in his eye, they even crinkled, telling me that this Brit was freakin’ smirking. 

‘Bastard... if only he knew how effective his existence solely has on humanity.’

I only rolled my eyes at him before focusing on Melione, who began to rest her head back and close her eyes, I could already imagine the drink beginning to take effect... 

‘Le’s fuckin’ goooo.’

Hours later...

Ghost’s POV

Landing in Mexico at midnight was not on my list, we require more equipment to wear in order to see clearly, and plus... many things hide in the shadows at night. Wearing a balaclava under a skeletal mask was part of my cover for many reasons, but fuck it was sacrificial. I was dying of heat all the time. Most of the time I mentally block the thought of it, but like right now.. I’d kill to take it off for a bit, my skin was sticking to it for how much sweat I had produced in this short amount of time. I hoisted my rifle into good hold when I felt the most soft nudge on my shoulder, I turned thinking it was Gaz, for he usually approached me quietly, but it was Meli, who held the widest puppy lookin’ eyes, like the ones Johnny would give me when he’d beg me to play cards with him on night watch. 

 “Yeah?”

“i can’t put this on.”

She held up her night-vision goggled helmet right under my chin, looking hopeless. 

 ‘Alright...’

“come ‘er.”

“ok.”

I noticed her seem a little more.. different per say? Her little wide eyes and the holding her hands behind her back, she was bouncing her knee a bit too-

‘Fuck it’s the drug... ok.’

It was effective.. she was vulnerable. I didn’t want to start to rough on the questions, so I asked her a normal one,

“What’s on yer mind Meli?”

I adjusted the large helmet on her head, making sure it was alright as she went on to say in between little hums,

 “Mmm.. nothing much Ghost. Oh- ummm... Graves is like.. suspici- well.. yeah it’s nothing-“

‘what about Graves?’

“Ok... so absolutely nothing-“

“-Yes. Is it ready?”

‘Shite she might just get hyper not cooperative... ughh another Johnny to deal with.’

With a last check up I finally let down the goggles, watching her take it in with an awe, as she stepped away slowly,

 “It’s ready Meli... just follow me as I follow Price. We’re in Mexico, remember-“

“-Of course she remembers Lieutenant. Why are you talking to her like a child-“

“Gravessss! Awww... I’m not a child he was just helping me out!”

Graves and I gawked at hearing Melione awe in a high pitch. She only sent us a thumbs up and skipped to stand next to Soap, tugging on his arm to walk with her off the plane. I could see Graves turn to look at me as he questioned curiously,

“Is she ok?”

I didn’t spare him a glance as I replied while walking in suite behind them all,

“She’s never been better.”

‘Please don’t do anything stupid Meli.. please.’

Price called me over as a large SUV pulled up, he was quick to inform,

 “Keep Laswell and Shepherd on your line, they want to be informed immediately on the count of the missiles.”

 “Affirmative sir.”

“Great. Let’s go.”

Graves POV

I wanted to talk to Melione alone for a few seconds before driving off, or at least have her in the same ride as I was in, but she ultimately refused to leave Soap’s side for some God-forbidden reason. I had never seen Soap so excited in a while, as he had her clinging on his arm. Honestly she was totally acting pretty off compared to the usual ‘cold shoulder’ type. 

 ‘What did they do to her or is she just out of it? Damnit! It’s gotta be him.. Soap is always up to something and you never know what it is until it’s too late... fuck.’

Soap was famous for his crazy little shenanigans, he impeccably slipped in and out of ways like a damned bar of soap. His ways were smooth and effective, not always according to protocol, but he managed to get away with it. Maybe he pulled a stunt in Melione now. Second bad thing, I was on a private call with Shepherd earlier.. and I didn’t realize she was there who knows how long until I had ended it. I was about to call her out on it but she mindlessly ran to Soap again.

 ‘You better keep your mouth shut Melione... please.’

Price‘a POV

“Alright boys, Melione, off!! We’ve arrived.”

Melione came up behind me as soon as she got off the truck and stuck to me like glue, a little shadow. I had noticed her being awfully close with a couple of the guys sense earlier.. maybe she was scared, so I made it a point to let her know she’d be alright. I knocked on her rather large helmet as I chided,

 “It’s alright lass... keep yer head in the game and you’ll be alright. Understood?”

“Yes Ja- Price.. yes Price.”

‘what?.. was that a name? was she going to say Jack? Jacob? Jake? Jason-‘

 “Captain we got a situation.”

My head clicked to Gaz as he approached me with a frown, only rising up my blood pressure and curiosity of everything around me,

“What’s that Gaz?”

“The missiles... come and see.”

‘ohhh nooo.. this doesn’t sound good.’

Melione’s POV

Soap gently pulled my hand off of his arm as he worded kindly,

“Stand here and don’ move. Ok?”

“yeah!”

“Ok!” ‘he’s so kind.’

I had felt incredibly safe with Soap, especially after our car ride to here, I had told him many things, I just don’t remember anything about what it was. But he promised he’d keep it a secret, so I was good about it even if I didn’t remember. I now stood in front of what look like huge crates, all holding something incredibly large on top, but their size wasn’t what had caught my attention, it was the fact that it looked like something was missing.

‘1.. 2.. huh? Where’s the 3rd one?’

“Soooooap? Why am I only counting 2?”

“Hold on Melione they’re still checking on the rest-“

Graves tugged my shoulder wanting me to set my eyes on him while trying to explain but I felt like he was wrong. I knew what I was looking at. I called out for Soap again, amid what Graves has tried to explain.

“Soap!-“

“-Melione wait!!!-“

“Stop fucking yellin’ at her! What is it Meli?”

‘Ghost!!’

I wordlessly pointed towards the missiles as Ghost glared at Graves, making him back off. Ghost then laid his attention on me. Soap returned in that moment as he muttered,

“There’s no other ones here but these.”

Ghost and I in sync then replied,

““then were missing one.””

“no fucking shit Sherlock.”

That was Graves of course, who appeared pissed off now, but someone else expressed their anger when he seethed,

“Who the hell got their hands on this!!”

‘Damn the Scot’s pissed… just as I am.’

I took into account Soap’s anger which had me expressing my growing one as I asked,

 “What the hell?? We’re missing a missile? AN AMERICAN MISSILE!?!”

Ghost looked behind me towards Graves as he growled,

 “Did ya know ‘bout this? Graves?”

My eyes followed where his rested and I found Graves to be defensive yet nervous as he responded,

 “No, I even showed and had proof that this was all accounted for and untouched!! No one should’ve been around here at all.”

I scoffed as Gaz quietly pointed out,

“Well someone certainly was.”

I nodded my head in his direction to show I agreed with him, for I whole heartily did.

 Laswell and General Shepherd spoke with Ghost as he addressed to the them about our new predicament, I then walked up to Graves and explained,

“You understand that this is bad right? They are expecting 3 whole missiles! And if I don’t have them-“

 “I KNOW! I know. They won’t believe you or it’ll cause a problem. I get it. This is definitely not my fault though.”

 ‘Who said it was? Why so defensive Graves?’

 Doubt now began to settle in once again. But I held up strong when Price suggested,

 “Why don’t we see if Alejandro and steer us towards anyone he thinks might know about this?”

 I swore I could see Ghost arch a brow while Soap questioned suggestively,

 “Ye mean like he knows someone tha’ knows someone tha’ knows ‘bout this goin’ missin’?”

“Hmm hmm… I’m sure he does, he runs this city like he owns it, or doesn’t give a fuck about who does.”

 ‘Yup… sounds like Alejandro.’

I started to walk away from everything and everyone as I ordered,

“Alright then, let’s head that way.”

Price pat my shoulder and sent me a short nod,

“After you Melione.”

Ghost’s POV

There’s no fucking good explanation for that missile going missing. It’s guarded by high security around the fuckin clock. That means it already got there messed with. Missing that third missile. I noticed that Laswell actually seemed more worried and concerned than Shepherd. Shepherd had a fake tone of concernment in his voice, and he sounded like he already knew about it. Fucker is going to wish he never lived if he’s playing us all onto something nasty. My thoughts must of been loud as Soap suddenly slid next to me, unfortunately bumping into my leg and side as he whispered,

 “Ay LT… ye alright? Can see the smoke comin’ out of ya ears.”

I scoffed at his wording, but nonetheless replied honestly and in his tone,

 “I don’t know Johnny… something about this is all off.”

“And I thought I was crazy.. I felt the same too.”

“Yeh?”

“Yeh.”

“Hmm… let’s hope our guts are wrong, if not it can become a big mess.”

“I know.”

My eyes then settled on Melione, who sat across from me as she played with her necklace, twiddling the rings on her fingers as she glared at Graves. Soap oddly enough commented on what I was thinking,

 “Ye think she has something to do with this and him, Graves?”

“I hope not. But everything in her story is fake, all that we have discovered about her is either off or unaccounted for… so you never know.”

 “I’d hope not either… she doesn’t appear tha’ way at least.”

I huffed lowly and side-eyed him,

“Really?”

“Trust me... we talked.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah.. but I can’t repeat it here.. too many untrusting ears..”

“m’k.”

‘Hmm… Ya seem confident Soap… better be right Johnny boy.’

About an hour later..

Alejandro’s POV

I stood next to Rudy by our Jeep as I saw the incoming SUV, I heard Rudy let out a broken sigh,

‘What is it Rudy?’

“Ruudyyy... que pasa my friend?”

Rudy shuddered as he spared me a quick look,

“I don’t like-“

“-Alejandro!!”

‘Ay they were quick to get off!’

I couldn’t hear what Rudy said as Soap yelled for her to be careful as she jumped out of the still braking vehicle. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Ayyy mi corazon!! At least someone is happy to see me.”

I watched her hold a bright smile while she jogged to embrace me. I watched how Ghost got off after her and didn’t like her sweet gestures, but it was nice to see someone like this once in a while. After separating she bounced on her heels and asked curiously,

 “Sooo Price said you had someone we need too see?”

Yeah, Price has spoken to me a while ago, and I already had who he needed in hand. Anyways, Her being a bit hyper was new, I took that into note for just in case. But I replied,

 “Yes cariño… come on muchachos.”

Soon they settled into the jeep, squeezing up pretty tightly as Melione sat between the two large men of steel. Rudy then looked back, smiled at Meli and Soap, and sent Ghost a short nod as he told me,

“Tiengo miedo a los fantasmas.”

‘ohhh that’s right! you’re scared of Ghosts.. can never ‘not be funny.’

Ghost was definitely intimidating, looked like the son of la Santa Muerte and killed like the chupacabra. I was easy around him, but Rudy wasn’t. Melione was the only one who laughed when Rudy had the balls to say,

“With your mask you’ll fit well here Ghost.”

We all glared at him as he began to sweat out his audacity but Melione laughed out loud and leaned her head on Ghost’s shoulder after she stopped, and muttered under her breath,

“I still like you Ghost. And your mask.”

This was all seriously going to be interesting.

Rudy’s POV

The rest of the ride was awfully quiet, especially after what I said. But I could only hear Melione chatter about something incoherently until I heard Ghost say in a little tough tone at one point,

‘Don’t touch. o-ok.. Fine. Jus’ up to there that’s fine. Not passed my elbow.’

Now that we were off the Jeep and standing in front of the crate, I realized that she had been drawing on his tattooed arm, for all the little spaces were colored in. Unfortunately He caught me staring and he roughly pulled his sleeve down. I hurriedly stood next to Alejandro as he started to tell the us,

“Alright hermanos... this is it. Beware.”

Upon walking in we beheld quite the sight. 

Valeria Garza... one of the biggest drug dealers of Las Almas, period. She was fearless and cold, evil too.. and madly cursed at whoever crossed paths with her. I made sure Melione stayed behind Soap and I, as she stayed glued next to Ghost for now. Alejandro walked you to Valeria as he immediately jumped onto the point of our meeting, as he began,

“You know about the missile right?”

She let out a breathless laugh,

“You think I know where everything is huh puta?”

‘Ay madre... starting off big i see.’

That only led to the both of them arguing back and forth for a while, with heavy insulting words and lots of tension. It had come to enough when Graves stepped in and questioned,

 “You two know each other?”

He sent Alejandro a questioning look as he replied,

“Ha, something like that. So Valeria... where the missile?”

She shrugged and tried to look behind us while sassing,

“I know there’s a woman behind you mensos putas.”

Melione tiptoed as she agreed,

“Yeah why am I hiding-“

“-shut up Meli.”

That was Ghost.

Alejandro then was growing more pissed as he interrupted,

“-where’s the missile?”

“I don’t know cabron!!”

Gaz looked at Price while he asked us,

 “What the fuck is going on?”

Price spoke up and questioned,

 “So you know about the missing missile? The third one?”

Valeria chuckled,

“Oh I didn’t count them, I have men for that-“

“-she’s lying-“

Ghost then intervened as his thick accent came out gruffly,

“Where’s the missile?”

Everyone kept spewing questions and curses until Melione squeezed through us. I tried to catch her but she only stood in front of Valeria and plainly asked with a soft voice of shock,

“You gave it to Hassan... didn’t you? That’s why he hasn’t called about the deal.. he has it already because of you.”

Valeria smirked at Melione while she openly checked her out, then sputtered,

“Of course-“

“NO!-“

Her hand raised up but Ghost grabbed it rapidly and pulled her back to his side, she struggled a bit but he not had to stare at her to calm her instantly. She looked furious as Alejandro breathed heavily,

“You think you can do anything with anyone huh??!”

Valeria say back in her chair and sasses once again,

“Even the dogs in Las Alma’s know not to bark at me.”

 A little scoff was heard behind me so instinctively I turned to see who it was, but that’s when I caught Ghost pinching Melione’s waist, right below her bullet-proof vest. She flinched a little and sent him a glare that he completely ignored. I shook my head at her as her eyes locked on mine, but she only sent me a small smile.

 ‘Ayyy que niña.’

My focus unfortunately went back to Valeria as she teased with some suppose seduction in her voice,

“Y quien es esta bellesa? I like her.”

I couldn’t hold back my patience with her anymore and especially more sense she was being a little mouthy about Melione, so I seethed,

“Deja la-“

“You like me mama? Huh… let’s see… if you can tell me at least… the place where we need to go to find what we need. I’ll give you a deal.”

‘Ayyyy mi corazon… that’s new.’

I caught everyone and myself gawk at Melione’s words and sassy attitude. It had never been seen before, or even used, she was usually cold and silent, letting everyone do the talking. Plus she had been angry at first. But now this and her coming out first? That’s was definitely new. Ghost was the most intrigued by her words, as his eyes hadn’t left her at all, you could tell he was trying to read her, understand her. My ears then fell upon Valeria’s words as she pointed out,

 “Give me 5 minutes with you… and I’ll tell you the place.”

Ghost grunted at the offer and just interrupted,

 “Just tell us where the missiles are!-“

Melione then stepped closer to Valeria and replied to her ignoring Ghost’s words,

“-yes. 5 minutes. Then you tell me-“

Ghost yet dared again to growl even deeper and meaner when he saw Melione pushing it,

“-Where’s the missile-“

Graves reached for Melione’s arm while trying to bargain,

“-Melione-“

Soap pulled him back as Melione countered,

“-shut the hell up Graves. Let me handle this, sister to sister… huh?”

And again her eyes found Valeria’s, looking so lusty and shimmering, luring her into her trick. Valeria was a tough bottle to crack, so I wasn’t sure how this would play out, it always took larger measures to get to her. But I was beyond surprised when Valeria suddenly spurted out with a smirk,

“Chicago.”

‘Ay mi vida… she must really want her.’

Melione smiled with triumphant and then ushered us out with a snap of her fingers,

 “Unlike you guys I keep to my word, let us have our 5 minutes. Out.”

I eyed Melione hoping she’d read me trying to tell her to be careful, to which she sent me a wink, and patted my back. To say I was comforted a little was an understatement, I was still extremely nervous about this. For Valeria was a cold and good killer, but you wouldn’t know who she really was until you were trapped in her jaw… she was like Satan. So I was the second to last out as Ghost stayed behind, and could only glare at Melione before stepping out and slamming the door shut, leaving the two alone. It was obvious he was utterly pissed off about this, and Soap was the first to ask him if he was ok,

 “Ye alright mate?”

Ghost stood in front of him completely still and only shook his head as he replied simply,

 “She’s a daring bastard. Think she’s out of cloud 9 now.”

With a sigh he walked away to stand by the door, not to listen in, but to make sure no one came in or out until it was said to do. Gaz walked up to me with his watch in hand as he put forth,

 “I got a timer going, don’t want time to slip pass us in case something goes wrong.”

I gave him a grateful nod as Alejandro worded,

 “Gracias Gaz.”

Now it was the waiting game… we all held the same expression as we thought,

‘What the hell can be going on in there?’

Valeria’s POV

To say this woman was beautiful would be an insult, she was far more than that, and held something I had never seen before. And it drew my attention sense the minute she walked in through those doors. She stood in front of me with eyes that held so many secrets, and so many lies. 

 ‘Quien eres…. I know you’re not a killer.’

“Venga aqui.”

I called out to her softly, her change in expression at my demeanor told me she was slightly worried but curious at it. But she still walked closer and asked in a low tone,

 “What do you want? You only have 5 minutes-“

“Who are you mama? This façade you have going on fits you, but it’s not you.”

Her face dropped a little at my words, but in a second it clicked for her. With some kind of power in her presence she leaned forward towards me and held each hand on the chair beside my head as she sternly said,

 “If you want this conversation to go on, you have to stop calling me ‘mama’-“

 I huffed out a dry laugh as I pushed on,

 “Because that’s what you are? Come on hermana… once you become one you never stop being one-“

She jerked away from the chair and seethed in one breath while holding a frown,

 “Unless it’s taken away then yes.”

Her reply kept me silent for a second, as I registered what she meant. It stung a little to realize, but unfortunately life was a bitch and it’ll ruin good people. I heard her sigh heavily as her eyes closed while she pinched her nose and asked,

 “What was said you don’t repeat. You are in no position to mess with me because I will personally find you and kill you. Understood?”

I watched her as she tried to subtly wipe away tears with her fingers while still holding onto her nose. My heart never felt bad for anyone, I’ve lived this life long enough where we don’t feel anything anymore, but for some reason, it clenched at the sight of her breaking, because she looked so strong.

 ‘Que lamento..’

And her threat, well, I wouldn’t take it as a joke either, her rage was enough to take out a whole city if she wanted too. So I leaned back in my chair and replied,

 “It’s a deal mi Reyna. I’ll look forward to seeing you soon.”

 For the first time a tiny smile made it to her lips as she scoffed,

 “That’s if we see tomorrow Valeria. Adios.”

 ‘People like you and me… always see tomorrow. Because death, is even scared to take us.’

 She walked towards the door as I gave a farewell, 

 “Adios amor.”

Melione then turned back and asked,

 “Was that all you wanted?”

I nodded,

 “Yes.”

And there she stepped out without another word.

Melione’s POV

‘She’s quite the person… but I think I can trust her with that.’

First person I saw while walking out was of course, Ghost. Though Alejandro was the one who spoke to me first as he asked worriedly,

“She didn’t do anything to you right, corazon?”

With a hand on his shoulder I admitted,

 “She’s an interesting woman, but no. She’s alright and ready to go.”

Graves came around as he tried to bark orders,

 “We got to get going, if she knows where the missiles are then anyone else she works with does, so we need to get there first.”

 ‘Always in a damn rush. That Graves.’

Price’s voice went ‘command mode’ as he spoke to Alejandro.

“Alrighty then, Alejandro, Valeria is all yours. Soap initiate our next flight, if the missile is in Chicago-“

Ghost and I then muttered at once,

“Then Hassan is there too.”

At the sync we had it took us a second to glance at one another before following Price’s steps as we began to head onward. For some reason, Ghost and I actually had one thing in common… we really wanted Hassan over everything.

[neotriobrainrot-reborn]

Symbiote-Peni Idea elaboration:

EMERALD WEB - Part 1

Based on this post

More elaboration below since this post may be getting a bit long

TW for mentions of self harm & suicidal thoughts in paragraph (6). Not explicit or in detail, but it is mentioned.

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(1) This takes place around 8 months after Peni's canon event(The death of Aunt May & Addy Brock) and while Peni is in the Spider Society.

(2) The story would start in Peni's universe, Earth - 14512. The SP//DR Program ran by Oscorp had some issues with Peni. Lately, she's been piloting SP//DR, patrolling the city every moment she wasn't in school, and not even taking breaks. She almost never got a full nights of sleep,. How could she rest, when she forced herself to patrol the City for ten hours at at time and spend the nights patrolling from the stroke of midnight to 4am? How could she rest when she didn't want to? Uncle Ben had tried to convince her to rest, but she quickly shut that down. If she rested for a single moment, who knows how many people could get hurt!?

(3) Or die

(4) Because of her

(5) Others had noticed how much more active SP//DR was, Uncle Ben in particular voiced his concerns for her. But she couldn't stop, stopping meant more people would die. She wouldn't let herself settle for a mere moment unless the weight of exhaustion crushed her, and even she wouldn't let the weight win. It should all be okay in Ben's book. She had started to fully committed all of her time to being SP//DR, and this was a responsibility that needed full commitment, Sure, Uncle Ben may argue that this wasn't healthy, but his definition of “Healthy” wouldn't keep the city safe. Heck, she herself wasn't even able to keep Aunt May and Addy safe. If she was more SP//DR and less Peni, maybe they would...they would still be here.

(6) Whatever. It's a change that she'll be accustomed to soon enough. Sure, she still had night terrors about VEN#M, and she could hear Uncle Ben knocking hard on her locked door begging to see if she was okay. She or coursed lied, never having the heart to tell him the truth. To tell him that she knew she was too pathetic to be SP//DR, to tell him that it should've been her instead of Aunt May and Addy, to tell him that she had scars. Some from fighting, some emotionally, and some...self inflicted.

(7) But scars were what made you Spiderman, at least that's what Miguel always told her whenever she questioned him about canon. Being SP//DR was her responsibility, and it was something that would stay that way until termination. That was what she had signed up for. And no matter how tired and tired and Tired she was, she would keep pushing. She would bare the weight. Nobody in the city needed to know that SP//DR was falling a part. No one did, and it would stay that way

(8) At least, that was what she thought.

(9) Norman Osborn had sent out an email to meet him in the Oscorp building at 3am. The meeting involved herself, but Osborn didn't want anyone else to know anything about it and as such, only had her show up. She had tried to ask details about it on the way, but Norman claimed that this was information that shouldn't be exchanged until she gets to the building and meet him in the proper room. Suspicion bubbled within her and mini-SP//DR, but she reluctantly agreed to the terms and arrived at the building. If she didn't show up tonight, he would bug her every night until he got a “Yes” out of her.

(10) Upon meeting him in the room, Osborn discussed a finalized project he was working on to help Peni, a little friend to help her achieve what she cannot.

(11) Without wasting a moment, Osborn quickly lead Peni into following him. They had to go through multiple clearance areas, and some of them were one she had never seen before. They finally reach the main room. A large terrarium could be seen at the center of a lone desk with a strange green spider inside, about the size of a tarantula, and more than big enough to dwarf Peni's own spider.

(12) The glowing sign made itself known to Peni.

PROJECT: EMERALD SYMBIOTE

(13) She had asked what this was, and Osborn answered

(14) “A new friend for you: Emerald”

(15) Without bothering to turn to her, he reached into the Large container and grabbed the Spider.

(16) He explained what this thing was. It was a Gene Radioactive spider in the process of development in the lab years before she had even begun to pilot the SP//DR for the purpose of helping the pilot should they not be enough. It would be able to amplify her motor skills and even control them should she run out of energy to fight. If the Spider worked properly, it would form a connection to Peni and Mini-SP//DR similar to that of the SP//DR. All of her capabilities with & without the suit would be amplified to several degrees. If Osborn explained all of it's capabilities, they'd be here till the sun rose again. He sums it up by saying it's an extra companion that can modify itself in anyway Peni needed it. If she needed to eat, it would search for all possible meals in a 5 mile radius. If she needed rest, the creature would focus all of it's objectives and modifications on getting Peni a sufficient amount of, well, rest.

(17 ) As he spoke, Emerald kept shifting it's form to a green liquid like substance. It's body stayed firm in Osborn's gloved hand and clinging onto him with tendrils she assumed to just be it's legs.

(18) shapeshifting itself to a cellular level...

(19) Peni showed some reluctance and asks Osborn what about this was so important that he felt the need to keep this from her until now. Osborn explains that while Emerald was in development for years, the final version wasn't finished until a couple months ago, and he didn't find a need for it.

(20) At least, until now

(21) He uttered a single sentence

(22) “I know you're getting weaker”

(23) He continued, telling Peni that he knew she was patrolling the city nearly ever moment her eyes were open . Every fight she's in leaves her more worn out. Peni Parker was wearing herself thin, and one day, she may take a fatal hit that she won't be able to bounce back from. One day, her own exhaustion may end up getting someone hurt, or worst, killed.

(24) Peni didn't like to admit it, but she found herself agreeing with him. Sure, she didn't really mind if she got a little bruised while trying to protect the city, but the people? She was fighting to keep them safe. She couldn't risk people getting hurt, no, killed because her best wasn't good enough.

(25) “Well Peni? Which is it? You have a responsibility to keep everyone safe. Will you accept some extra help or hope your mistakes don't get someone killed?”

(26) With only a small amount of hesitation, she held out her hand for Emerald to crawl on, letting it slowly move from Osborn's hand, onto her own...

(27) And watching as it's fangs clomped down into her wrist.

(28) Peni felt a connection pull herself to Emerald, but it didn't feel the same as Mini-SP//DR. It felt...different, but she couldn't find the words. She watched it shrink it's form before scurrying to her hair.

(29) Osborn tells her that she can leave now. Emerald will do everything in it's power to help her. A hundred questions sprint in her mind, but she's too tired to ask anymore and left the room. She could ask him more about this in the morning.

(30) Emerald glowed slightly with it's purpose shinning brightly

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I hope others enjoyed this part. I may plan on formatting and polishing it into a fic sometime so stuff like this can be more properly weaved together into a proper storyline instead of me just dumping all of my ideas onto the floor. I choose Emerald Web as the name since I found it thematically fitting to her canon event.

Also, this symbiote isn't the same as VEN#M. It's a completely unique symbiote which has almost nothing to do with the VEN#M suit. which technically means I just made an OC

Also, I had Peni refer to her spider as mini-SP//DR because it's adorable and you can pry it from my dead hands (please don't actually)

[twilight-resonance]

Obstacle Course

This is a post about my brain. That's what you were here for, wasn't it? Well, whether or not it was, that's what I'm here for ultimately, so that's what you get.

Dude, sometimes my brain feels like a fuckin' obstacle course. I was sort-of parsing through how I might describe to someone the way that my brain works - or rather, I was actually parsing through how I might describe how my sleep works, and that's intimately connected with how my brain works. Always has been, always has been.

You see, different parts of my brain are active or "on" at different times of the day. And if I were to utilize the whole spread of those parts of my brain, I would only sleep from 3AM-6AM. This is part of why, you see, I had some terrible sleep problems for years - I was down to about four hours a night and dwindling, probably bottoming out on that 3hr stretch. I had to go to therapy to learn to sleep, and it was a whole thing.

More and more I find that a lot of organizational work has to happen in the morning - anything to do with planning, sequencing, deciding, etc. If I wait too long - usually somewhere in the 12PM-2PM range, but it can kick in as early as 11AM - a lot of the self-conscious, self-watching parts of my brain come online and actively prevent that organizational part of my brain. Or rather, it's there the whole time; but my brain has the right resources it needs to fend those things off earlier in the morning.

Afternoons are good for grinding. If I've already gotten a good headstart on a project in the morning - its sequence and scope laid out, all the problem-solving around any rough edges already done, etc - afternoon is when I have the energy and can just go and go and go. If I haven't already started working, good luck - what takes me 15min in the morning takes me more like 2 hours by afternoon, which seems extreme but is the regrettable state of things up there.

Evenings are good for relaxing. My brain is not good at relaxing, so this is important - a time when it can rest, and relax, and wander and play a bit rather than churn and chug away. It's the breathing room that keeps everything else happy.

Then, come about midnight - particularly once all the lights are out and everyone has gone to bed - two things happen. One is that the reflective, emotional part of my brain comes online. This is the part that is processing my place in the world and is in touch with how I'm feeling and what I'm doing and why; and is when it's closest to the surface for me to gently work with and witness. This is hugely important for my ability to operate the rest of the time - if I don't do this, everything during the day gets clogged up with lots of messy emotions and blocks.

The other part is that there are a lot of inhibitions that drop - the much more focused, planning-oriented part of my brain - goes to sleep; which means that creativity gets free rein. I do my best creative work in the deep night like this, and when I don't get that time, what I come up with for work tends to be a lot more trite and semi-recycled. So that's important too.

...So therein lies the problem. All of these things are important: if I don't get them all, all the other parts suffer. But if I get them all, I get a handful of hours of sleep a night. Like I said, I did this for about seven years - it started at six hours of sleep a night and slowly dwindled from there. I used to hallucinate semi-regularly from the sleep deprivation, in all kinds of fun ways. My favorite was the time that I was driving and suddenly everything flattened out; and instead of becoming closer, things got bigger instead. I was very lucky that I was driving a route I'd driven a million times, because I can't imagine trying to drive under those conditions on a completely unfamiliar road. Got there safe, and it was an interesting experience; but yeah, no thanks.

Like I said, I eventually went - well, got sent - to therapy to fix the problem. There were a few environmental things to help the process along - switching from a white overhead lamp to a yellow side-shaded lamp to mimic sunset, things like that - and the other semi-helpful thing was finding something that was (a) intellectually demanding, and (b) boring. For me, that was math. When it was time for bed, I used to have take a math textbook and a notebook and lay in bed doing math in bed for an hour-plus or however long it took to get sleepy. Can you imagine?

What actually ended up helping were two things. One, melatonin. I'm not a huge fan of drugs for solutions to this kind of problem; but this is one I found actually worked. It didn't take a lot - just a few mg, wait half an hour, and then the magic happened. I would get sleepy. It didn't make me pass out, it didn't make me stupid - but it made me feel like I had a choice. I could choose to go to bed, when my brain wouldn't let me otherwise. It took a few rounds of that to sort-of teach my brain how to wind down and prepare for sleep, and for the most part i haven't needed it since - I just needed those training wheels.

The other thing that helped was having someone I wanted to go cuddle in bed with. That was motivation to actually go to bed when the time came.

I like my sleep nowadays. Sometimes I sleep too much. I'm still ridiculously stupid-functional on no sleep, and probably always will be - that feels like something that was just broken into me over the course of those seven years.

...Of course, I feel like my brain doesn't work nearly as well as it did those years ago. Some of that is the Brain Damage, but some of it is that I don't get access to all those parts of my brain regularly. I'm figuring it out, slowly - figuring out how to wrangle The Obstacle Course and all the ridiculous trappings that come along with it. But that's how it works up there, and that's how sleep is so intrinsically tied to it, and that's why I'm going to have to battle sleep problems for the rest of my life.

Because you see: the reason I didn't want to sleep is because there were Things To Do. Stories and poems to write, things to learn, crafts to work on, planning to do, projects to work on... all of which were infinitely more interesting than sleeping. Why waste that time when you could do things?

(I am haunted by this to this day. I will always be haunted by this. Y'all know where Xitli comes from, right?)

So that's the obstacle course. And that's just one part of it. I've talked before about all the other things I've had to learn how to make my brain work - making sure I'm engaging in enough new processes and information and experiences and other "input", fucking with tiny variations in the lighting and where I'm sitting and what I'm listening to, all kinds of conscious run-downs on bodily needs, picking a particular scent to waft through the room on a given day... It goes on and on and on, and I swear it's nevereneding.

So that's me. Welcome to my brain. Guess what time it is now? You got it! 1AM! Tracks, no?

[bakugosmosaicbrokenhearts]

this time I have to listen to the new album right. Because the way I listened to the previous albums for their original releases was downright horrible. For Reputation it took me months to listen to it in full because I was so confused as to what was going on. For Lover YNTCD made me a hater for like two weeks because it was so bad and I had lost hope for the quality of the album, so it again took me months to listen to it (and at the end it turned out to be my quarantine album so yay for me). Folklore I was so caught off guard by the news I listened to it at like 8 am in my bed barely minutes after waking up and I was practically half dead listening to it so I couldn’t appreciate the moment like the absolute idiot I am (although I knew IMMEDIATELY that illicit affairs was a banger). Evermore also caught me off guard but this time I was PREPARED but I genuinely don’t remember how I listened to it for the first time, although I do remember texting my friends about it and them not giving a fuck. Fearless TV, I remember listening to You All Over Me with my best friend while on a walk, and I remember being absolutely gagged by Mr Perfectly Fine, but I dont remember how I listened to the album in general (but I DO remember how gagged I was by fearless’s (title track) quality and cleanliness). Red TV i don’t remember if I listened to ATW10 first or if I listened to the album first, but I do have a distinct memory of watching the ATW short film on my friend’s computer at a starb*cks, and I also remember being gagged by her version of Better Man and I Bet You Think About Me. Midnights was BY FAR the worst listening experience of my life I simply have to laugh. It was 7am in the morning on my way to uni, depressed as fuck, still recovering from my traumatizing surgery, and being stressed and anxious like there was no tomorrow about fuckass med school. I was on the smelliest, fullest bus in the world (and yet still managed to find a seat!), and pressed play on Lavender Haze, expecting it to be a sweet pop ballad, and instead getting a full on synth pop energetic pop song. And then I got from one song to another, still half asleep might I add and having absolutely no idea what I was even listening to! YOYOK was an immediate stand out because obviously, Maroon jumped out to me from the start, Vigilante Shit was the song that woke me up lmao, and Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve (the 3am tracks had already come out by the time I was listening to the album) was the first song in which I was fully processing the lyrics (keep in mind that I was half dead up until that point lol). My initial overall reaction to Midnights? I guess I can safely say that I knew that it was gonna be pop (even with the album photoshoot, I wasn’t fooled into thinking she was dipping her toes into 70s rock or 90s glam rock, not me!!), BUT I was so dead listening to it that to me, all the songs sounded the exact same (which is not true at all lmao). For Speak Now TV, I organized a listening party, (and by party, I mean me, my sister and my best friend) and it was an experience to say the least. I live in Europe which means that for every fucking ts release, the album comes out at like 6am or something. A la Taylor Swift, i had baked cookies and made hot chocolate for my guests, and at 6.30am, we were all ready to listen to the album in my basement. And when I tell you it was the most disappointing TV in the world to me, I’m not kidding. Since Speak Now is my favorite album, I was hoping for her not to fuck it up. Alas… And let’s not talk about the vault tracks either.

1989 TV was an improvement quality wise. I was still shaken up by my favorite child being beaten up and spat on three months prior but to my surprise, 1989 sounded great!! Concerning the vault tracks, since I am the slowest person alive, it’s only when I was re-listening to them again in my college library that I realized all the references to lost queen haylor. Finally, as for TTPD, I won’t be able to listen to it first thing in the morning because I have classes, so I plan to listen to it when I’ll come home at night after my piano lesson. I’ll cook myself a nice meal, maybe even get a cake or something to celebrate, and listen to the album with unwavering attention, and reading the lyrics with hawk’s eyes (I need to get that joever tea after all).

[thenighttrain]

me sleeping late every night and thinking OH WOW I’M GONNA REGRET THIS TOMORROW and then i regret it tomorrow only to do it again that night. my friends lied to me when they said i’d get used to sleeping early!! no i havent!!!! i still want to stay up until 3am!!! i don’t even get tired until midnight!!!!!!

[stark-at-heart]

Untitled, a Love Story

Part Three

O Captain! My Captain! our fearful trip is done;

The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

      But O heart! heart! heart!

            O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

                        Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;

For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

      Here captain! dear father!

            This arm beneath your head;

It is some dream that on the deck,

                        You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;

The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;

From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;

      Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

            But I, with mournful tread,

                  Walk the deck my captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

- O Captain! My Captain! By Walt Whitman

February, 1990

It was the end of Tony’s reading week. She had spent the entire time entombed in the workshop, working furiously on her nanotech project. She had indeed had a breakthrough, one that she was pretty certain was going to lead to all kinds of new possibilities that she was now just itching to play with—but, even geniuses needed to take a break sometimes, and after a coffee-fueled week in the basement living on a total of about four hours of sleep every two days, Tony Stark was ready to take a breather.

Of course, she was taking that breather at 3am on a Saturday, drinking yet more coffee because that was what brought her joy in life, but to each their own. She sat in the kitchen, at the little family table that was there ostensibly for Jarvis, Ana, and other ‘servants’ but which Tony preferred entirely over the much larger one in the dining hall. Eventually Tony figured she would relocate to her room and play Galaga on her Atari until the sun came up before inevitably conking out for three more hours, but those plans got derailed when buff, blonde, and baffled wandered into the kitchen making a bee line for the water glasses and looking about as sleep deprived as Tony actually was.

“Hey,” Tony said, although she didn’t know why she’d bothered. He hadn’t noticed her, and if that trend continued she could have easily slipped out without having to make small talk at three in the morning. But something had compelled her to speak. Maybe it was how out of place ‘tired’ looked on an actual super human. Maybe it was just how far away his gaze was even as he filled up his water glass. Or maybe it was the fact that he went for the water automatically, mechanically, like he’d done this dozens upon dozens of times before, despite having only been in this house—and this time period—for a couple of weeks. Hell, Tony didn’t know. But she knew as soon as the super soldier turned that haunted, sunken gaze to her that she couldn’t leave him alone until that eased up, at least.

“Oh,” he said, the tired gaze taking on some degree of startled. “I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

“Well, you know,” Tony said, “someone exposed me to water and fed me after midnight, so here I am, causing trouble. Drinking all the coffee.” At the Captain’s blank look she recalled that there was no way in hell he knew what a Gremlin was and her usual brand of humor was rendered nearly useless, which was a crime. “Never mind, Capsicle. You couldn’t sleep?”

The Captain still stood at the sink. His water glass was full, and he hadn’t drunk any of it. He shrugged at her and this somehow looked helpless. Tony wasn’t sure how that was possible, given that he was, again, a literal superhuman, but it did.

“I don’t need much sleep, anymore,” he said. “Besides—I slept for forty-five years. I think I’m good on sleep, for now.”

Now, Tony was the queen of avoiding subjects and questions. She was a master evader. She had won awards in the art of misdirecting and distracting until whatever godawful paparazzi or so called journalist forgot entirely what they had been asking her about. So she knew a brush off when she heard one. He definitely couldn’t sleep.

Well he did just come back from a war. And also death, Tony thought to herself. It wasn’t her problem. It wasn’t her problem! This was one hundred percent her father’s mess. If he was going to go around resurrecting his old war buddies, then he should be the one to have to figure out how to help them live with all the shit they were faced with as consequence.

But, here was the thing. It was three in the morning on a Saturday. Her father was probably passed out drunk somewhere. At the very least, he was not in the kitchen with the clearly distraught, newly resurrected super soldier, which meant that he was in no position to help.

It really wasn’t Tony’s problem, but…

“IHOP,” she said, standing up abruptly. The super soldier blinked at her slowly.

“I… what?”

“IHOP. It’s an acronym. International House of Pancakes. What the hell about it is supposedly international, I have no fucking idea so don’t ask me. What I do know, however, is that IHOP is open even at three in the morning. They have terrible coffee and middling pancakes and we should absolutely go get some of both,” Tony declared.

“We… should?” the Captain asked, clearly not quite catching up to the program.

“Yep,” was all she said. “Follow me, your carriage awaits.”

She half expected him to stay where he was as she walked out of the kitchen, but in two strides he was just a half step behind her, peering at her curiously. Tony pretended not to notice as she led him out to the garage.

“What do you think, the Ferrari? I like the Ferrari,” Tony said absently, looking out at the six cars in the garage. She glanced at the Captain, but he looked vaguely stunned and Tony wondered if he hadn’t been in the garage at all in the three weeks since he’d been there. That seemed a shame to her, because even in her vague recollections of her father’s many stories about Captain America, it came across that he was a fan of motorcycles. They didn’t have any bikes at the moment, but that could be arranged; and in the mean time, a man who appreciated a good bike was likely also a man who would appreciate the assortment of luxury and classic cars her father kept.

Not your problem, Tony. Mentally shaking herself, she went for the driver’s seat of the red Ferrari. It was so flashy it was nearly gaudy, and she hopped right in and stared at the Captain with a raised eyebrow until he joined her.

“Hold onto your hat,” Tony said. “Or your cowl. Whatever.” And she tore out of that garage with all the enthusiasm a Ferrari warranted. 

The nearest IHOP on Long Island was not an exciting enough locale to take a Ferrari, really, but Tony pulled into the parking lot and flung open her door like she was royalty. She waited for the Captain to very carefully leave the car and very gently shut the door. She slammed her side and marched into the place, commandeering a booth for the two of them as the Captain followed her, clearly no less baffled. When the waitress came over Tony just took out two hundred dollar bills and handed them to her.

“One of all the pancakes that seem vaguely dessert-y, an entire pot of coffee with two mugs, and anything else he wants,” Tony told her. She looked at the overwhelmed Captain. “It’s a breakfast place. What do you like for breakfast? Eggs? Sausage? Bacon? Your metabolism has to be insane.”

“Um,” the Captain said, and Tony just looked back at the waiter.

“One of all those, too. Extra eggs. Like, enough eggs to feed this man. Whatever you think would work. He looks like a body builder right? So just base it off that,” Tony instructed. The waitress, who was probably Tony’s age, seemed just as dumbfounded as the Captain, but she took the bills and nodded, then scurried back towards the kitchen. She was prompt with the coffee, which Tony appreciated as she proceeded to guzzle her first entire mug before the Captain had even thought to pour his out. She poured a mug for him and then her second. She shoved it towards him.

“It’ll warm you up,” she told him, because his alternating lost and baffled expressions were really getting to her. Fortunately, this seemed to be just the right thing to say. He took the mug and took a sip. He frowned. “What?”

“Pretty sure I’ve had better coffee on the front lines,” he drawled. She stared at him. He stared back.

“Oh my god did you actually crack a joke?” she asked. “You must be exhausted. Jesus. So, how long have you gone without sleep, O Captain, my Captain?” He raised a single eyebrow at her and sipped his coffee.

“You know,” he said slowly, “the Captain’s dead, right?”

“What?” Tony felt a sudden stab of icy panic, because she was not ready to deal with some full on super soldier identity crisis or something here in the IHOP at three-thirty in the morning, she was absolutely not equipped—

“The poem. O Captain! My Captain! The Captain is dead,” the Captain said, and suddenly Tony’s world righted itself and she had no need to spiral into a panic anymore, which was fortunate because that would have really thrown a wrench in her morning.

“You know Walt Whitman?” Tony asked as the waitress returned, bringing maybe half of their order and putting it all over the table in a haphazard sort of fashion that Tony appreciated. She grabbed the nearest stack of pancakes—New York Cheesecake pancakes, she was pretty sure after a bite. She’d been referencing Dead Poets Society, which had been a hit last summer, but of course she knew the poem, too. She was just surprised he did. The Captain gave her a look that clearly said he was judging her hard. “What?”

“Of course I know Walt Whitman,” he said.

“Huh. I just figured, I dunno, you were like dirt poor and living in Brooklyn in the twenties and thirties—sounded like a recipe for ‘dropped out in the eighth grade’ to me, never mind all the uh, ailments?”

Ok, yeah the Captain was definitely judging her hard. But he was also reaching for the blueberry pancakes, so he probably wasn’t pissed off, at least.

“My mother was a nurse. Education was important. I graduated high school. Even went to Auburndale for a year after, but I couldn’t afford tuition for the full program,” he explained. He sounded a little wistful, almost. Or maybe Tony was reading too much into it. “Still, I learned enough to get jobs drawing illustrations, posters, all that. I got a job with Timely right before the war—they did all the Captain America comics after I enlisted. That was a little surreal, I won’t lie.”

“I would think your entire life from the point you enlisted was surreal,” Tony said. “I mean, like, if Dad’s stories are real then… they turned you into a superhuman and then you went to fight like, crazy super-evil super-nazis who had way advanced weapons powered by some ancient Norse energy source? And now you’ve been like, raised from the dead so there’s that.”

“Yeah,” the Captain said, then got all quiet again, staring at the sausages before him. Aw fuck. She’d fucked it up again. She was good at that.

“So—art school. You want to go back?” Tony asked. The Captain blinked, a few times, as though this was a brand new consideration for him. Hell, maybe it was. What did Tony know.

“I—have no idea,” he said. “I don’t… I figure, the military will probably want me… doing military things.”

“Do you want to do military things?” Tony asked, even though it was none of her business and definitely not her problem. Her whole brain was screaming at her to just finish up the damn pancakes, pack like twenty doggy bags, take them back to the manor and leave the dinosaur to his own devices. But there was the tiniest, most stubborn part of her, that would not listen to the reasonable rest of her brain. “Because when you were in it, I mean, you were fighting Nazis. Maybe it wasn’t at the time but that seems like, the most black and white good guys versus bad guys fight ever. But the military now is like, shady as fuck. You should probably know that before you sign your life away—again.” The Captain stared at her for a long moment, and for a second Tony wondered if he was all there or if he was off having flashbacks or something but finally he said,

“Stark Industries is mainly a weapons contractor with the US military. And you—weren’t you just working on a contract yourself? ‘Nanotech’, you said?” Tony stabbed her pancakes and shrugged.

“I’m a Stark, we operate in the morally gray. Military funding gets shit done. Profits made from those projects help with other ones. Nanotech has about a quadrillion other applications that aren’t military. Besides, I’m just a division of R&D for SI. SI gets the contracts, I figure out some solution. I don’t pick the contracts,” Tony said. If some of the projects she’d worked on made her feel vaguely uncomfortable, well, what the hell did it really matter. Her duty was to SI, at the end of the day. She quashed her feelings on the subject all the time. Feelings were a weakness when it came to business. The Captain frowned at her, deeply, looking both contemplative and disapproving, but Tony figured that was going to be par for the course for a lot of their interactions and elected to ignore it. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. He shook his head once, and asked,

“You think… they’ll just let me go?”

“Fuck, Capsicle, you died in service. Pretty sure whatever contract you had with the military is like, way expired,” Tony said with an arched eyebrow. She drained her second mug of coffee. “And like. Yeah the military is shady but they’re not about to enslave you. And Dad would throw an entire army of lawyers at them if they tried to just like, redact you as a human.”

The Captain was quiet for a long moment. Tony finished off her New York cheesecake pancakes and moved over to the ones that were clearly chocolate chip.

“Steve,” he said softly.

“Huh?”

“Steve. My name is Steve, not Captain or Capsicle or any of that,” he said. “You can use my name.”

It wasn’t like the typical friendly, ‘Call me Steve’ that someone might pull out after being called Mr. So and So one too many times. It wasn’t an invitation, Tony knew that. It was a plea. And Tony, well, she was selfish, sure, a smartass, always, and bitchy, of course. But never cruel. And she got the impression in that moment that it would be cruel, for some reason, not to use his name.

“All right,” she said lightly, “Steve. Fair enough, I did ban you from calling me ma’am. What about your full name? Steven? Anybody call you that ever? Oh that’s a face, all right, ixnay on the Steven-ay. Well, I should probably warn you then also that my full name is off limits.”

“What is your full name? Antonia?” Steve guessed. Tony grimaced.

“Do you think my mother has no taste? God, no. Antonella. And if you ever use it I’ll—”

“Kick me in the balls?” Steve asked, and there was the tiniest, most hesitant of smiles on his face, and for a second that stole Tony’s breath away, that little smile all focused on her.

Oh, fuck. 

“Remove them wholesale,” Tony corrected him. “Punishment has to match the crime, see.” The Cap—Steve chuckled.

“Noted,” he said.

Not your problem. Not your problem. Not your problem, Tony chanted to herself over and over again as their conversation continued to be pleasant and about nothing in particular. Not only was he not her problem, really, he was someone she ought to actively avoid. Nothing good ever came of interacting with her dad’s projects, or her dad’s past. But there were moments, when he smiled, that Tony knew she would abandon all reason to make him smile again.

And whether or not she was ready to admit it to herself, many years later at least Tony could acknowledge that it was during that pancake breakfast that she was well and truly fucked.

[unnecessarilydeep]

death/unbecoming/rebirth

written February 8, 2023

Impossibilites shift when I close my eyes-When I close my window-When I close my closet door.

I will never kiss someone and mean it. I will never fly from my rooftop, sing like a bird at midnight. I will never make it, run away Sunday night to the blue LED lights of a bus instead of a theatre. 

I hope my body ends up in the ocean, I hope it’s torn apart because I can only forgive so much. Depths of water, pools they contain me in, will never match where I was already drowning. The ladder was too high up. There are no handholds on the inside of a well. Caution tape around my body drifts away to sea like forgiveness. It smells like salt and an open wound. 

The things I cling to with my nails. A cliffside-a sandpapered ladder-a sense of normality.

Time is measured by how much weight is on my shoulders, but how many nails break off between scene changes and standbys. The blinking light outside the dashboard window and the length of my hair. Days are measured by how they end because they all end. It all ends. 

There are no stars here, but they are not dead. Florida has dead stars, a sky close enough to crush me, and a reckless joy. Islands have too many stars, too close together, cold water, an emptiness that comes from being trapped in a place everyone else loves. 

Write another metaphor, godless kid, foolish boy. Walk down the hallways and pretend like you’ll push this time, like you’ll do anything but fold into nonexistance. Talk about the day you were born like it happened in August instead of end of September sitting on your bed watching it all fall apart. Pick your laptop up from its hiding place and figure out your life, all by yourself, all by yourself. 

(It hurts

Because

It doesnt go

away)

Fear and not much else, dulled anger like a sword stuck in the stone. Brief reckless wild joy. The silence of 3am’s but your watch reads 7:50. The bus left without you. 

Find yourself. In words half written-in sleepless nights-in the corner of rooms you never want to see again

It all needs a name, these feelings and you, newly brought into existence by happenstance in a mall change room. Falling down like tree leaves, settled in a pattern of tea leaves that read death, and unbecoming, and rebirth. 

You’ve never felt more out of place than in the middle of an english classroom, hair too long and voice too deep. You’ve never felt more afraid than in your own home. You’ve never felt more alive than when the sun goes down. 

English years ago taught you the words but not their meanings, you grew up in french, it only makes sense. It is only years later you will learn “boy” means something soft and locked away. It is only years later you will learn “girl” means anger and rebellion. Years after that you will take them both into your hands, replace all your knuckle bones with girl and all your ribs with boy and become something other. 

Hate and love are funny things because you could never understand one without the other, and yet you claim to understand both. Loveless thing, how could you understand? Your heart beats in unfinished rhythms, half written and staccato. Spiteful, you say, with shaking hands. I will make myself out of something that cannot be undone. Families and love you don’t understand. Lies you tell everyone because you want them to be true. You catch yourself and wonder if they look through your eyes and see you properly. Who is it for? 

It all unplugs like life support, like a headphone cord.

(Who is this for?)

[m1dn1ghtposts]

// tw: suicide, death, self harm, sexual assault, mental illness, vent //

00:22 am

i saw a post about wondering if your 12 year old self would be proud of you today, and i really thought about everything that’s happened. i’ve done some great things but some equally bad ones too, so in this post i’ll go through some of those.

- i graduated high school early with a high gpa

i also reached record suicide attempts when i switched schools, almost succeeded a couple of times, and relapsed into self harm… something she hated. i still pick at my skin, and think about joining my love pretty often. i was physically and verbally abused because a guy that tried to rape me while i was under the influence got mad when i rejected him. yeah i skipped a grade, but i lost everyone, and nobody believed in me until my name was read off at graduation. if i didnt have my partner at the time i would have broken down completely, theres no way i could come back from that much of a dark place and been okay.

- i got accepted into the college i wanted to go to

my car, the only thing that has consistently kept me hanging on to this life, was keyed while i was there. my roommates were toxic and lied to my partner to disrupt my relationship. i couldn’t focus on my classes because they would have people over until anywhere from midnight to 3am. i couldnt get a job because whenever i would show up in my usual dark outfits and makeup to any place in the little country town i would get great reviews as far as capabilities and qualifications go, but never a call back. id also get weird looks all the time, maybe im crazy and seeing things but when a bunch of boys say im scary looking and they feel threatened i dont always take it as a compliment. not to mention the sudden and horrific passing of my partner during finals, the event that drove me to dropping out. to this day im fighting for a refund, despite it all happening within the fall of 2022 semester.

- i drive a cool car and found a really neat interest

i hardly ever get compliments, and my car is damaged, though i’ll never say exactly where. theres chips in the paint where rust pokes through, a piece missing from my windows tint, sun damage on parts of my paint, scratches everywhere either from the keying or from her previous owners… i could point out every little flaw forever. i love my car so much, its crazy to me that i never realized earlier how much i love cars, but that doesn’t mean anybody else appreciates the work and money i put into my car to keep her clean and shiny. not to mention how misogynistic the car community is. its depressing to see some of the posts ive seen, saying how women terrible drivers and dont know anything about cars. not only is it depressing to see from some of my favorite content creators, but its making me want to stop trying. stop pouring so much effort into something nobody will appreciate except me. maybe this is dramatic, but its true to me. once every month or two it takes a few of my friends to convince me to keep trying and keep building her up, but when most of what i see is negativity its very hard to ignore. i dont need everyone to like my car, i dont need everyone to be accepting of women either, i just want to feel like im a part of a community i allign a lot with. isnt the whole point to bond over wanting to modify your car and watch the progress?

- i did great in band and survived all 3 years of marching band (remember, i skipped a year)

i havent touched my trumpet in forever and started smoking sophomore year from stress, right around the school change. i know its bad and will kill me someday, but do i really care? so what, im only alive today because of pure luck. its really sad to say, but i couldnt care less about when this all ends, all i want is to feel okay. i just want to have this small vice and if it kills me someday so be it. also, for every great achievement in band i screwed up a run equally as bad or just didnt even play the music. its hard to stay motivated in a place that hates you.

basically, for every achievement i can boast, there’s an equal or greater bad side to it. at least thats what it seems like. maybe im just negative, or maybe im realistic. why should i lie to myself anyways? my 12 year old self was great at every subject and at least tried to be happy and spread joy despite the bullying. she didnt know about her own abuse, from a family member no less. she didnt know why her step brother liked touching her privates or why he kept doing weird things with her dolls. now it just keeps happening, with everybody i hold close. not even just sexual assault, but manipulation ive learned to notice, straight up abuse that i never recognized. honestly, my current self sees no real value in doing really anything, i’ll lay in bed all day if i cant get up. i could have failed out of college and i couldnt even get a job until it was fully remote. i abuse my body and i cant stop, i dont know how. i smoked weed in college because i couldnt sleep or calm down and now most nights there are a blur, its all i had to cope while 1.5 hours away from my partner… when i had him. maybe its my fault, maybe i just screw up everything i touch like the inverse of midas. i cant tell, i just know im losing it.

[deceitfuldevil]

Liar

Matt Murdock X Reader

Summary: You knew Matt had been lying about staying late at work every night, and when you stand in an empty office on a phone call with him listening to Matt tell you he was just working late again; you’d had enough. You let yourself into Matt’s apartment and waited for him to come home, but found out a much darker secret than you anticipated when he stumbled in at 3am.

Warnings: angst, use of y/n, angsty ‘I love you’ confessions, lying, pet names (baby, sweetie, etc.), established relationship.

Word Count: 1.8K

You’d been up all night waiting for Matt, again. You were starting to not believe Foggy’s excuses for Matt that he was just staying late at the office working another case. Matt always stopped answering his phone after 11pm, and by 1am Foggy had insisted it was fine; that Matt was just a workaholic. By tonight you had enough of what you were sure were bullshit excuses, you didn’t want to think for even a second that Matt was cheating on you after work but you were running out of logical reasons as to why he never came home until 3 or 4 in the morning.

It was just past midnight and you just got off the phone with Foggy who insisted Matt was at the office working late again. Deciding you’d had enough, you threw on your jacket and made your way over to Nelson & Murdock yourself. Walking up the stairs you could feel your heart pounding in your throat, silently praying that Matt really was in his office even though you had a good feeling he wasn’t. Now standing outside the doorway you knocked gently, calling out for Matt. But no response. Lying to yourself you thought maybe Matt couldn’t hear you, and let yourself into the consistently unlocked office.

Walking around the deafening clack of your shoes over the hardwood floor of the tiny office echoed in your ears as you faintly called out for your boyfriend, or lack thereof. Peering around the space to find not a living soul. Sighing, even though it was after 11 you decided to try and call Matt, see if he has a new excuse for the night. The soft ring dulled out after the 5th or 6th time and right as you were about to hang up you heard a click on the other end and heavy breathing on the line.

“Hi baby.” Matt cooed breathlessly, only furthering your fears and suspicions that he was cheating on you. “Hi Matty.” you called back, faking a tired cutesy voice. “Where are you?” you asked softly. You could hear Matt sigh softly on the other end, you couldn’t even imagine what he was doing or who he was with. “Just working late at the office again sweetie, I‘m sorry.” Matt lied, clearly since you were standing in the middle of his empty office. You swore you could feel your heart skip a beat, nausea circulating in your stomach. “Mhmm okay, well I had a long day at work myself so just wanted to say goodnight before I turn in for the night. See you tomorrow?” you asked weakly, heart aching.

“Yeah yeah get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow. . . goodnight.” Matt said, voice void of emotion or care. The line clicked again before you could respond. Maybe you were angry and acting out irrationally but after getting off the phone with Matt you didn’t go back home and turn in for the night like you said you would, instead you went over to Matt’s place and waited. You decided you were going to wait until he came home no matter what godforsaken hour it was and no matter who with.

It was now barely 3:30 in the morning and your eyelids were starting to get heavy as you sat patiently on Matt’s couch. You could feel sleep slowing starting to roll over you until you heard a loud crash from the terrace entrance of Matt’s apartment. You jolted up and looked up to the top of the staircase, eyes adjusting to a figure in the darkness. Then you could tell who it was. . . it was daredevil. You gasped silently as you stood up and backed away from your place on the couch. The devil stopped halfway down the stairs and tilted his head to the side, turning his head to face your direction. “Y/n?” he called out, making you stop in your tracks.

When you didn’t answer after a minute the devil further down the stairs and started to walk towards you. “Y/n?” he called out again.

“How. . . how do you know my name?” you said shakily, but as soon as you spoke he recognized you completely. He took his mask off and revealed himself to you, Matt revealed himself to you.

“Matt?!” you shouted, somehow relaxing and losing all composure at the same time. Hell, you were relieved that some random vigilante didn’t break into your boyfriend's home, but went off the deep end when you found out your boyfriend was said vigilante.

“Oh my god.” you said just under your breath, you wanted to be relieved Matt wasn’t going out every night seeing another woman but at the same time this revelation did not bring you much comfort. “Are you even blind?” you asked in an accusatory tone. Matt merely scoffed.

“God why is that what everyone always asks?! Yes y/n, I’m really blind it’s just. . . complicated.” Matt said, taking a frustrated tone with you.

“What everyone always asks?” you repeated back to him. “What do you mean ‘what everyone always asks’ Matthew?” Matt scoffed, shaking his head but lacking a reply. “Who else knows?” you pressed on, shameful silence. “Matt, who else knows that you’re daredevil? Or am I the only person you’ve been keeping this from?” you spat, tears welling up in your eyes.

“No god, it’s just. . . it's just Foggy, only Foggy knows.” Matt said vexingly.

“Oh, so you told Foggy so that he could lie to me too when you’re out on the streets until 3am?!” you shouted.

“No! I didn’t want to tell Foggy either, he found out in the same way you have. I can’t tell anyone because the more people that know then more people are in danger!” Matt shouted right back at you.

“Oh what so you’re gonna stand here and tell me you kept this from me because you care about me? Because you want to keep me safe?”

“It’s not just you y/n, I have an obligation to protect this city.”

“Obligation my ass, Matthew. That’s what the police are for, hell that’s why you’re a lawyer!”

“You don’t understand, the police are corrupt and there’s only so much the law can do. Sometimes. . . you have to take matters into your own hands.”

“My god, you can be so dramatic sometimes. Do you even care that you’re putting yourself in danger every night?”

“It’s not about me, I need to do this.”

“What you need is some help, Matthew. And I’m not going to be the one to give it to you, I’m sorry.” you said solemnly, picking up your jacket from his couch. “I’m heading home, goodnight Matt.” you said walking towards him and pressing a chasté kiss to his cheek, then turning around and walking towards the door.

“Yeah let’s talk tomorrow… when we’ve both had some time to think.” You roll your eyes with a sigh at his words. What a great time for him to finally make a mature comment.

“I love you, y/n” Matt added on, your heart freezing up at his words. Or maybe that was your body, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that you lost all feeling in your limbs and turned back to look at Matt’s sightless gaze.

“No.” You said lowly.

“No?” He repeated back.

“No, you don’t get to tell me that for the first time ever now. Not tonight, not when we’re doing this.” You shouted out, hot tears now streaming down your face.

“I’ve loved you for a long time y/n, I’m sorry this is the first time I’m saying it.” Matt added on, only furthering your anger towards him.

“No you’re not fucking sorry, and you haven’t always fucking loved me! You just want to think you’ve loved me longer than I’ve been in love with you!” You screamed, sick to your stomach with all the emotions you were going through.

“So if you love me too then why are you screaming at me?!” Matt shouted back, matching your energy with a deep angry voice.

“Because this isn’t how I wanted this to happen!” You said, voice breaking.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He said, tone barely softening.

“Because I fell in love with you the day I met you back in college and I’ve dreamed about us and what it would be like when you first told me you loved me, and believe me it didn’t happen like this.” You said, fully breaking down now.

Matt now came to your side and cradled you as you fell to your knees. Soothing his hand over your back as he pulled you into his lap.

“I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you Matt, and I hate knowing that you probably haven’t felt the same until a few months ago.” You said quietly, crying into his broad shoulders.

“How do you know I haven’t loved you since I laid eyes on you too?” Matt asked, holding you tight.

“Because you’ve been blind since the day we met.” You joked, humor acting as a crutch for you.

Matt let out a small chuckle.

“And what if it was love at first scent?” Matt asked, your tears slowly stopped.

“Yeah, sure.” you said with a stiff laugh.

“No really, you were wearing that same perfume you still wear to this day. I remember standing on the second floor and your perfume hit me like a wave when you started walking up the stairs, it stood out amongst everyone else at that party. It stood out amongst every other girl buried in cheap designer perfume at that party.” Matt took a pause feeling you take your head out of the crook of his neck.

“I could hear you raving about the scent on your way up the stairs to your friend. You just bought it that afternoon, you asked Leila about three different times if you smelled alright. She insisted amongst all the sweaty bodies clustered together it didn’t matter if you smelled good or not.” There was a brief silence that followed, you searched Matt’s face for any sign that maybe he was making this all up or that he was just kidding. But he was stoic, un-telling.

“So what would you say if I claimed I actually fell for you first?” Matt asked, bringing one hand under the chin as he used his thumb to swipe away the last of your tears.

“I’d say that you’re full of shit Murdock.” You said with a giggle.

“Yeah well I think we both knew that.” He joked back.

“But I’d also say it sounds like we’ve both kept some pretty serious secrets from each other from each other for a long time. And I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you.”

Matt pulled you in for a sweet kiss, pulling away but keeping his forehead rested on yours.

“I love you, now ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?” You spoke quietly with a smile.

“It’s the best thing I ever heard darling, I love you too. No more secrets, okay?”

“No more secrets” you said in agreement, pulling Matt in for another kiss.

—

A/N

Hey look who finally wrote some solid angst for once! But clearly knowing me I can’t end things on a sad note so here’s to a fluffy ending! Thanks for reading and let me know what you thought!

Much Love,

—Skyler

[jackrrabbit]

cooking at 3am /// Osamu x f!Reader

Request: Imagine cooking together with Osamu at 3am because neither of you could sleep (or because ‘Samu got the midnight munchies lol). You don’t have anything specific in mind; you’re just playing around and feeding each other little bits of what you make.

A/N: bruh you said munchies and my mind said [[ h i g h o s a m u ]] sorry this went in a kinda different direction? but still fun 3am cooking project vibes :P

Tag/warnings: fluff, light drug use (weed), you and Atsumu are lowkey Bros™️, Osamu's kinda baby 🤧

Osamu’s not good at smoking.

He doesn’t really know how to inhale—you know, hold it in his lungs so it can soak in or whatever—and when he does, he coughs. Except he tries to repress the coughs. Even if he wants to hide it, he’s always close enough to you that you can feel his chest moving from trying not to cough when he takes a hit.

And also, like every baby smoker, he can’t really tell when it’s kicking in until he’s off the deep end.

“Can you feel it yet?”

“No.”

You shoot Osamu a glance where he’s sitting on the ground in front of the couch, watching a nature documentary on Atsumu’s TV with a glazed-over look on his face. “You sure? Your eyes are super red.”

“I can’t feel it. Give it—“ He holds out his hand and honestly you’re pretty sure he’s had plenty, but it’s Atsumu’s vape so who cares. You hand it over and Osamu holds it up to his mouth and sucks, eyes fluttering closed as the light on the side of the Pax glows yellow.

God, he looks hot when he does that. Something about a hot guy smoking, yeah? Actually, no. Something about your hot boyfriend smoking.

Except 'Samu holds his breath a second too long and you can see the urge to cough hit him… Wait for it, you think to yourself, and a second later he hacks and wheezes the vapor out in a wispy cloud that reflects silver against the semi-dark. You coo in sympathy and pat his back. “Want some water?”

Osamu shakes his head, hand over his mouth to stop the coughing. On the tv, David Attenborough talks about penguin courtship rituals and Atsumu (who’s been draped on the couch next to you for the past few hours) gives a light little sigh in his sleep. You check the time. 3am. Bedtime. Too bad you and 'Samu are both too high to drive home…whoops. Guess you’re spending the night at Atsumu’s place.

Osamu rubs his bloodshot eyes like they’re itchy, which they probably are. “Hey, can we— uhh… Do we have pancakes.”

“Pancakes, babe? You mean the ones you made for breakfast?”

“Yeah, there’s leftovers…I made you extra and you didn’t want them.” He twists around and gives you an incredibly dirty look, like this is something you did on purpose to hurt his feelings. “If you don’t want them I’m going to eat them.”

“Wait, 'Samu—“ But Osamu's already getting up off the floor to wander over to the next room. You debate pausing the show—it’s a really good scene—but you leave it going for Atsumu's sake because you’re pretty sure the narration is the only thing keeping him asleep. He’s kinda drooling on your shoulder and you have to push him off to go follow your boyfriend to the kitchen.

“What is all this stuff? Ugh…” Osamu's pawing through the fridge. There’s a lot of crinkling, plastic sounds—you catch a glimpse inside and all of the shelves are stacked up with plastic bags and styrofoam containers.

You yawn and hop up to sit on the kitchen island. “Takeout? I don’t think he cooks.” Atsumu's going to get a lecture tomorrow for keeping 2-week-old Indian food in his fridge. God knows you heard it way too many times before you and Osamu moved in together. You don’t envy 'Tsumu.

Osamu sits down in front of the fridge, fumbles with a drawer, and pulls out a bag of moldy grapes. “Gross…who lives like this…”

You snicker into your hand.

“I can’t find the pancakes.” 'Samu's pulling the plastic drawers all the way out now, setting them down on the floor as he inspects the contents of the fridge.

“They’re not here.”

“You ate them?”

“No, I— Hey, put those back in,” you tell him helplessly as he shuts the door of the fridge, ignoring all the leftover food he took out. Yeah, half of it was probably off anyway, but Atsumu's gonna be pissed if he wakes up and there’s takeout going bad all over his kitchen floor.

“You threw away my pancakes?” Now the look on Osamu's face is utter betrayal. He stands up off the floor and glares sulkily at you. “I made those for you…”

“I didn’t throw them away, they’re—“ You hold back a laugh and wish you had your phone on you (where did it go?) so you could take a picture. He’s so cute when he smokes. “—they’re at home.”

“At home?”

“Yep, at home. The place where you and me live, remember?”

“Oh.” Osamu pauses, reaches out absently to grab the edge of your sleeve. You’re wearing one of his hoodies. “We’re not at home?”

“Nope. We’re at Atsumu's place,” you tell him through a giggle.

He plays with your sleeve, contemplating. “Why?”

“Because we’re out of weed and he said he’d smoke us out. And we like hanging out with him.”

“Oh. We do?”

“Yes.”

“…’Kay.” It takes Osamu a second to accept this, but then he nods seriously. “(Y/N), I'm hungry.”

“I know. What do you want to eat? You could probably have any of that stuff, I don’t think he’ll miss it.”

'Samu thinks about it for a moment, scanning the array of takeout containers spread out across the kitchen floor. “I want pancakes.”

“The pancakes are at home, remember?”

“Yeah…” Osamu flips over his grip on your sleeve and traces his thumb down the lines in your palm. “I could make some?”

More pancakes? “I don’t think 'Tsumu has eggs, babe. Or flour. Or…baking soda?” You’re not really sure what ingredients go into pancakes. Whatever cooking skills you possessed pre-Osamu have deteriorated significantly since you moved in together and he took over any and all food preparation for your household.

He pouts at this, and his hair is a little messed up, and he’s so pretty that you can’t stand how much you like him in that second. Mine mine mine, something in the back of your brain says. He’s mine.

You reach up and Osamu obediently ducks his head down so you can smooth his hair back into place and fix the bits that are flipping over his part. “Is there anything else you want to eat?”

“Onigiri.”

“Oh…” Well, at least Atsumu probably has rice. “Sure. Ok. That’s your specialty.”

“I want ya to make it for me.”

“What?” You frown and pull your hand out of his. “You know my cooking sucks.”

“No it doesn’t. (Y/N)’s food’s the best.”

“You own an onigiri shop, come on—“

“Please?”

One of his bangs falls back in his eyes and without thinking you reach up to put it in place. “Okay, fine. But you can’t complain about it if it’s not good.”

He smiles and you want to blush. “Yes! I promise.”

So you do it for him. Even though you’re high too. You measure some rice and water into the rice cooker (Osamu has to give you pointers on how much of each to put in) and you scrounge around Atsumu's depressingly bare kitchen for a few sheets of seaweed and some easy fillings. Osamu pulls a stool up to the island counter and rests his chin on his hands so he can watch you with a bleary look of adoration on his face.

It takes you…maybe half an hour to be done? It’s hard to gauge time when you’re high. You and 'Samu both jump when the rice cooker finishes and plays the little rice cooker song, which will remain stuck in your head for the foreseeable future. 'Samu hums it in a loop while you shape the rice into lopsided triangles and wrap the nori around it.

“Here,” you tell him when you set the plate down in front of him. He looks entirely too happy to be eating your mediocre food for someone who literally does this for a living, but who cares.

He picks one, takes a bite, swallows. And blinks.

“What do you think?” you ask in spite of yourself.

“Umm…salty,” Osamu says.

You grab one to try yourself and it’s salty. Like, ocean salty. Yuck. “I told you it would be bad,” you complain, trying to tug the plate away but Osamu grabs it and pulls it back.

“Noooo…it’s good,” he lies, although his face is giving him away. Still, he takes another bite and chews enthusiastically.

“Shut up.” You tug a little harder but Osamu doesn’t let go.

He swallows, pulls a face, and takes another one. “So good. I love it.”

“Shut up. You sound so fake. You’re going to get sick if you eat that.” You keep pulling, but he insists on pretending it’s edible so you admit defeat and help him finish the onigiri off. God, they’re awful. But he keeps eating and so you do too.

When you’re done, your mouth feels dry as fuck and you want to sleep almost as much as you want to drink about a gallon of water. “Is it bedtime yet?” 'Samu asks, wiping his mouth and then rubbing his eyes again.

The clock over the oven says it’s past 4. “Yes. It’s bedtime.”

“Wait—we’re…we’re not at home, right? We’re at 'Tsumu's?”

“Mhm.”

“I prolly drove here…I dunno if I can drive now,” Osamu tells you slowly, like he’s apologizing. “I think I'm kinda high.”

“Oh yeah?” You hold your laugh back and put your hands up on his cheeks. “How do you feel?”

“Dizzy. Blurry? Like…you’re in slow-motion.” His hands come up to layer over yours. “You’re pretty in slow-mo.”

“Prettier than usual?”

Osamu closes his eyes, scrunching them up to think and then looking over your face intently. “Same amount, just slower. So it’s easier to see.”

“That so?” You slip your hands around to drape over his shoulders and get up on your tiptoes to give him a little kiss on the cheek, because he’s earned it. “You know what, I think I'm kinda high too. I think we’re going to have to have a sleepover.”

“On the couch? S’not big enough for us both.”

“You can sleep with 'Tsumu in his bed…or I guess you could sleep on the ground?”

'Samu's mouth twists and his brows draw together. You can practically hear the gears in his mind turning while he considers alternatives. “Can we share the bed?”

“I think Atsumu's gonna want it. It’s his house.”

“But he’s already sleeping.”

True, you can hear Atsumu snoring lightly from the living room underneath David Attenborough’s description of endangered falcons in the Philippine rainforest. You should really wake him up—matter of fact, you should really clean up the kitchen because it’s a huge mess—but 'Samu's already pulling you away. And you’re so sleepy.

“He’s going to be pissed tomorrow,” you tell Osamu through a yawn, but you let him steer you in the direction of Atsumu's bedroom, holding your hand.

“Don’t care…I hate sleeping without you.”

“Yeah,” you say, and you squeeze his hand and he looks back at you like you’re the literal best thing in the entire universe—and you decide you should get him high more often. “Same.”

[taechaos]

New Idea

pairing: Step-brother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

warnings: non-con, bondage, pseudo-incest, sadism, smut, mentions of killing

synopsis: You wished to hang out with your brother Taehyung when he wasn't home, only to realize he was better off staying away.

word count: 3.2k

It was late at night. Rain flooded outside, drops trickled down your window and puddles formed on the roads as they reflected the neon lit storefront signs beautifully. The tears from the clouds splashed against the cement loudly, and you watched the empty streets in boredom. With your cheek leaning on your palm, elbow propped up on the round wooden table across your window, you miserably yearned to feel some sort of sugar rush with a deep frown on your face. Things have been mundane, repeating the same old routines as days quickly went by. You wondered what Taehyung had been up to in the time that he’d been gone. You knew he could resolve your boredom instantly had he been right beside you.

Taehyung – your step-brother who was the embodiment of adrenaline, and was most likely awake with you right now. The man never slept, always staying up at night brainstorming ideas for what to do during the day that was no doubt just as exciting as the day before. Bags adorned his eyes that somehow fit his wild persona that never needed asking for permission to do things that were illegal most of the time. It was especially daring when having strict parents, and the only reason he wasn’t locked up in a mental institution was because he was the pride of your family with excelling grades in college that he rarely ever attended. They never approved of anything he’d done, especially not the teal hair he was currently rocking. You on the other hand, looked up to him as a role model.

What you’d do to see him right now. Sometimes he tagged you along with his adventures, such as exploring abandoned buildings and getting matching tattoos on your forearms that he chose. Despite the rebellious acts he put you through, he always defended you against your parents and got away with everything with a light scolding from his smooth tongue. Admiration wouldn’t begin to describe the amount of respect you had for him, though he was rarely ever around. Unbeknownst to you however, he never failed to go a day without pecking your cheek while you were unconscious. 

He was everything you aspired to be: a carefree soul with a creative mind and a heart filled with exhilaration. The only thing he hadn’t done was probably murder. It was a shame that absence made the heart grow fonder, because throughout the time you’d known him since your early teens, he hadn’t changed one bit with his disappearances that could go on for days. 

Taehyung never changed.

Was this what they called depression? Feeling numb and hating your life for how ordinary it was? You didn’t know, but what you knew was that you really needed Taehyung right now. It was 3AM and your parents were sound asleep in the apartment while you moped over how much you missed your step-brother’s presence. Not a single moment was dull with him, while you were too much of a coward to go through with any of your desires.

And as if your prayers were answered, a pound came on the door. The loud knock instantly gave away the person behind the door; Taehyung, who never cared for how loud he was unless he was on a stealthy mission.

Your heart skipped a beat as the door swung open and the silhouette of your step-brother entered before it was slammed shut with a lock. “You’re awake?” he asked in a whisper without moving an inch when he noticed your seated form.

“Can’t sleep,” you breathed, unable to hide the joy you felt upon seeing him in your tone. He couldn’t have picked a better time to visit you.

“Why not?” he walked over to you before kneeling. There was a smile on his face that matched yours, instantly giving away he came to your room with purpose. It was expected, for he never approached you if not to tell you about one of his newer ideas. 

“Was bored.”

“So was I,” a mischievous smirk graced his face. The street lights outside illuminated his messy hair that your hand itched to ruffle. “But I found us a solution.”

Your eyes gleamed with hope, your grin never faltering. “Tell me,” you impatiently urged, your knees already bouncing up and down with excitement.

“I’ll give you a hint: we’ll both be having fun. But you need to listen to me,” he cautioned with a raised finger. You nodded frantically, willing to do whatever he needed you to do. “Okay, stand up.”

You obeyed him and only then noticed the bag slung over his shoulder once you stood before him. “Let me do all the work, yeah? You just stand still.”

“I really want to know what it is,” you whined and bounced on your feet. 

Taehyung held onto your tits that bounced with you and you quietly gasped. “Better not be acting like this with anyone other than me. Naughty,” he scolded before unzipping his small pouch. 

“I don’t go out without a bra,” you rolled your eyes playfully. Taehyung was notorious for doing and saying things without a filter, uncaring of the effect it had on others. This was simply him looking after you without any boundaries, because he never set any with you.

He pulled out a duct tape from the mystery bag. “Turn around and hold your hands behind you.” You complied without protest, the ripping of a duct tape resounding in the room as he tore it with his teeth. He taped your wrists together like cuffs before facing you again by the pull of your shoulder. 

Confusion washed over you, but not a trace of fear. “What’s this about?”

“Now go lie down,” he ignored you and nodded at your bed. You sat on the center, your sheets already rumpled from all the tossing and turning you’d done in an attempt to sleep. His figure loomed over you and your heart raced in anticipation. “Don’t move, okay?”

You silently watched him with piqued curiosity as he pushed you down. The soft mattress dipped under your weight and you didn’t move a muscle until you felt him tug at your flannel pajama pants. “Taehyung? What are you doing?”

“Just trust me,” he ignored you again and you furrowed your brows as he undressed you. “You’re going to like it.”

Without a single clue of his intentions, you expected him to change your pants after he took them off, but definitely didn’t expect him to aim at your panties next. The second he held onto the hems, you crawled away from him and repeated more firmly, “Taehyung, what are you doing?”

He yanked you back to him by your ankles. “Don’t you trust me? You said you’d listen to me.” 

“I don’t think I want to do this,” you strained and tried to pull your knees to your chest, but he tightened his grip on your ankles.

“It’ll be fun, just sit still,” he spoke airily, his tone unbothered compared to your worried one. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Once you felt somewhat reassured, you relaxed your legs and lied back down. The discomfort swallowed you whole when he undressed your bottom half completely. The chilly air hit your bare legs and left goosebumps in its wake.

“You shouldn’t be shy about being naked with me,” he chuckled and tapped your pussy carelessly. You yelped and bent your knees again. 

“Taehyung, this isn’t right,” you stressed and clenched your thighs together. You were growing wary about this ‘idea’ and you weren’t sure whether his pupils were dilated because of the dark anymore. He could be high. “Let’s try something else, please.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he scoffed and spread your thighs apart, hovering over your loins. “You’re going to love this, just calm it.” He grabbed the duct tape again and tore off a smaller piece before placing it on your mouth, making your efforts of leaning away fruitless. Your voice was muffled behind the sticky tape as you shook your head. “Don’t make me tape your legs too,” he warned as you tried pushing him away. He sat on your knees as he began unzipping his washed denim jeans, ignoring your babbling.

“Been watching a lot of porn lately,” he began casually as tears brimmed in your eyes. “I usually find it boring, but I came across a video that I couldn’t resist reenacting. Plus you were bored too,” he defended, “it’d be mean if I spared my little sister of this fun.” 

You didn’t know whether he was joking or not, but you were ready to start crying if he was actually doing what you were thinking. You sighed in relief when he reached for his pouch for a pair of scissors. It had to be a joke then–

Taehyung began cutting your shirt from the middle, and you whimpered when your tits were on full display. Your nipples hardened as a result of the exposure, and tears immediately began streaming down your face mixed with muffled sobs.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” he exclaimed, “we’re not related by blood. It should be fine.”

When you continued crying, he said, “I’ll take off my shirt too, if it helps.” He heaved his t-shirt over his head, his firm chest hard to make out in the midnight dark. “I was thinking kissing would ease you into it, but only if you’re quiet.” Your cries grew louder instead. He sighed exasperatedly, “You can be such a crybaby sometimes.”

He started leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck, and you whimpered at the feeling. You were ticklish and though you were completely terrified, the kisses were a bit soothing. “This is me being nice to you, because oh boy, that guy in the video was a fucking monster,” he laughed while going down the valley between your breasts. A finger flicked your nipple while his other hand rubbed over your folds. “Want me to eat you out first? You’re not wet enough.”

You shook your head in refusal, so he merely shrugged and began circling your clit instead, his fingers now pinching your nipple. His mouth latched onto your other nipple and he swirled his tongue around the areola, clashing pleasure with pain. The rain drowned out your involuntary moans but Taehyung caught them anyway; it wasn’t hard to miss when your arousal began coating his hand. He released your nipple with a pop and locked eyes with you. “You’re enjoying this? Not gonna lie, I was expecting you to cry longer but... you're a little slutty, aren't you?” He slapped your pussy experimentally and smiled when you moaned loudly. “Keep this up and I might just take off the tape.”

For a moment, he wondered if this was why people enjoyed sex so much; your moans were like music to his ears and your body was making his cock throb even more. He could really get used to this, he thought as he slapped your pussy over and over, the sound echoing in the room along with your high-pitched whines.

“Shit, I need to record this,” he mumbled before reaching for his phone on his back pocket. Your protests went to deaf ears as he began recording your pussy and spanked it, the microphone picking up all your sounds of pleasure. Once it reached the one-minute mark, he threw his phone on your pillow and took out his erect length from its restraints, giving it a few pumps as the tip oozed with pre-cum. “I never thought fucking you would be this easy. Thought about it every time I touched myself.”

You went quiet at the revelation and he smirked at your raised brows. “Why are you surprised? Whenever I’m home, you come hug me with your bare tits pressed up against me. Not that I’m complaining of course,” he chuckled hotly. “Want me to kiss you now?”

When you didn’t respond quickly enough, he ripped the tape off of your mouth without mercy and your eyes teared up at the pain with an ouch. He didn’t waste a second in enveloping his lips with yours as he cupped your pussy, smearing his pre-cum on your labia. He swallowed your moans as his mouth moved vigorously, tongue meeting yours as he explored your cavern. The smacking of your lips caused you to clench your hole, the sound arousing to your ears as you kissed him back.

“You going to stay quiet for me?” he murmured against your lips, his cock poking at your hole teasingly. You hesitated but nodded nonetheless. “Good girl,” he praised with a grin and lightly pecked you before properly positioning himself.

The reason why Taehyung was so eager to have sex with you wasn’t just because he was horny, but also because really wanted it to be your pussy that he fucked first, and maybe second, and third. He was a virgin who watched too much porn when he wasn’t outside, and now that you were 18, he thought it to be the perfect timing for you to lose your virginity to him like he’d imagined when he was 15. 

Due to his experience, he didn’t ease into your pussy and instead shoved his cock entirely. You screamed and he instantly put a hand over your mouth. “Too much?” he asked with a strained voice. His cock was just begging to be thrusted into you, but he couldn’t have you screaming and waking your parents. When you nodded with eyes shut in pain, he groaned to himself. He was twitching inside you, and after a few seconds, he began moving.

You were crying and bitching again, but he paid no mind to it as he pressed his hand onto your mouth while gently slamming his hips into you, his courtesy for now. You'd adjust sooner or later, but the stretch was excruciating; your walls stung and you started to bleed on him.

"Oh fuck," he giggled sadistically once he noticed the crimson fluid, "that didn't happen in the video." He gazed into your glossy eyes before quickening his pace, growing rougher. "You're crying again; what's new?"

Taehyung was laughing as he was moaning, but you couldn’t hear anything except for the ringing in your ears. Your heart pounded and you were struggling to breathe through your nose as he fucked you relentlessly. 

“I kind of feel bad for you,” he panted with a sinister smile. “Does it still hurt?” He took your sobs as a yes. “Poor baby,” he cooed with a pout before moving his free hand to your clit. “This might help.” You were struggling with your bound hands, but you couldn’t move your legs because of how much it hurt. Your fighting was useless, and your body was growing numb except for the thumb that made it less painful.

Taehyung removed his hand from your mouth to hear your moans clearly. Whether it was from pleasure or pain, he didn’t know, but he loved it. He wanted to be the only one to see you in this state. He’d gauge out any eyes that got to see you naked and stab any ears that got to hear your pretty sounds.

But it was a little difficult to savour it when he was reaching his climax so soon; damn inexperience and the low stamina that came with. He had enough self-control to pull out of you to finish himself off with his hand. He missed the warmth and tightness of your pussy and how it kept clenching down on him quickly, but it had to come at a cost – not cumming inside you.

“You fucking monster!” you yelled hoarsely, eyes blurred with tears and face covered in tears.

“Too loud,” he sighed and forced your mouth open to shove his length inside. “Try anything, and I’ll fucking kill you.” His cock was heavy on your tongue as you gagged on it every time he thrusted. It wasn’t long before he released in your mouth and you choked, swallowing his cum without a choice. Another loud moan erupted from him as his hips stuttered while gently slamming into you for the last time.

“Fuck,” he exhaled before collapsing on you with his palms holding up to not smother you completely. “Shit, you’re such a good fucking girl.”

When he raised his face from your shoulder, you spat on him. He laughed hysterically before wiping off your saliva from his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, damn.”

“You’re the fucking worst Taehyung,” your voice wavered as you insulted him. “I hope you rot in hell. I always saw you as my role model, but now I understand why everyone fucking hates you.”

“Sheesh,” he snorted, “I told you I’d make it up to you, didn’t I? It might hurt now, but it’ll feel a lot better when we do it again.”

“If you try-” he cut you off by going down on you, taking his clit into your mouth and immediately emitting a moan out of you. “Stop, stop, stop,” you chanted in gasps, trapping his head with your thighs and contradicting your words. He chuckled against your swollen pussy, making it feel even better and yet worse. This euphoric sensation wasn’t what you needed after being traumatized by your own step-brother, but it was what your body wanted after getting a taste of his tongue. 

He was slurping up your juices and spitting on your folds before abusing your clit again. The bastard knew how to distract you from your newfound grudge, but you weren’t going to forgive him after your orgasm. Your hips moved against him on instinct as his tongue ran up and down your labia. A knot formed in your stomach, your tears long forgotten as you became more persistent in riding him in this awkward position. He heaved your thighs over his shoulder to take full control, and with his vigorous sucking and pulling, you came undone with a spasm.

“Feels good, right?” he asked rhetorically and fell limp next to you.

“I’ve never hated someone as much as you,” you seethed while recovering from your high.

“You’re going to tell me that wasn’t fun? No way,” he stared at you in disbelief.

“You hurt me,” you sniffled and covered your face.

"I'm sorry princess," the nickname felt foreign on his tongue as he held your arm. "I'll leave forever if you want me to."

He hummed when you stayed silent with a runny nose. "I'll clean you up and go, okay?"

"No," you huffed. "You become my slave for a whole month."

"You want me to stay home with you?"

You nodded while rubbing your eyes with your fists. "You can't do that and just leave, and I hate you but I miss you."

Taehyung resisted the urge to squeeze your cheek and coo. He knew you'd regret asking him to stay, but he wouldn't say no to spending time with you 24/7.

Chuckling through his nose, he said, "I miss you too." He traced the tattoo on your forearm, a minimalistic mockingbird with an arrow slicing through the middle. He picked it because it represented you; an innocent little thing who didn't even look down at her wound, only focused on flying back to Taehyung, a hawk that waited with open arms - ready for his meal.

If you wanted him to stay, then that's what Taehyung would do. You'd fallen for his trap twice, the third wouldn't be so bad. He'd make sure you enjoyed it this time.