#i love doing the costumes but i’m open to other stuff

[mirandahamilton]

btw i am accepting gif requests!!! doesn’t have to be specific to got/hotd or the last kingdom :)

[casiia]

virgin!ethan landry buying condoms before attending a party with chad (idk this would be so funny and awkward😭😭😭)

[ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐞 ੈ✩‧₊˚]

pairing .: ethan landry x reader

genre .: suggestive

word count .: 3k

warnings .: suggestive content (minors dni.), female reader, alcohol indulgence, dry humping 

author's note .: SORRY NO SMUT! just a lot of plot! but i had soo much fun writing this, whoever requested this i think you’re so funny! i originally was going to add smut but lack of motivation. my little nerd boy psycho getting teased by shirtless farmer chad makes me giggle. but i hope you guys love this as much as i do because i’m giggling soso bad. also i don’t have a dick i’ve never bought condoms b4 so i tried my best errr. also also guys please b careful when drinking at parties. this is just a lot of plot and lowkey ethan x chad (im slash jay) but if enough people want it i will write smut in a part 2. 

© casiia 2023 DO NOT REPOST OR PLAGIARIZE MY WORK

“wait why are you turning? we’re supposed to go down this street for another light.”

the muted sound of rain echoes inside the car; droplets of water splattering against the fogged windshield blurred the bright traffic lights, a mixture of green and red reflecting against the dash.

“pitstop. gotta pick up some stuff.” chad taps his fingers against the steering wheel impatiently – waiting for the light to turn green. his thumb smooths over the grooves that were engraved in the leather, frustration threatening to expose from his composed state. “get the fuck off your phone! go, the light is green.”

“pick up stuff? not drugs, right…?” ethan looks up from his phone, his illuminated screen lighting his features from the shadows of the night. with a buzz, he focuses his attention back to his device. a smile graces his lips as he reads over your notification, fingers moving quick to type a response to you. 

“no, not drugs. condoms.”

adjusting the seat belt that suddenly became uncomfortable around his neck, ethan swallows thickly,  a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “oh.”

“i mean, you’re gonna need them. i doubt nothing’s gonna happen between you and her tonight.” pulling into the lot, chad cheekily smiles over to his friend, playfully hitting his arm.

“w-what? we aren’t anything serious, i don’t think she looks at me like that.” leaning towards the window to escape chad’s ruthless teasing, he resisted the urge to check the notification that had vibrated his phone – knowing it was from you.

“she definitely does, she’s always giving you that look.” throwing his hands up in gratitude when he found a parking spot, chad carefully pulled into the tight spot. “you guys are so annoying, everyone can see it but you two.”

“what look?” unbuckling his seat belt with a click, ethan chews on his bottom lip to stop the smile that threatened to show on his face. 

“the ‘i want to fuck you’ look.” turning the engine off with the twist of a key, chad unbuckles and climbs out of the car. “just fuck already, what’s stopping you.” watching ethan take off the cardboard helmet of his costume, he chuckles lightly. “i mean, she wants to fuck a guy dressed up as a cardboard robot.”

“hey. it’s from that movie murder party, and maybe put on a shirt before you comment on my costume.” opening the passenger door, ethan reaches into the back seat, grabbing a plain white tank and tossing it to the shirtless farmer standing in the drizzling rain. 

“oh right.”

“i don’t think there is a ‘fuck me look’ i think you’re thinking way into things.” stepping out and shutting the door, ethan stuffs his phone and wallet into his back pocket, walking towards the pharmacy with long strides to avoid the rain.

“what would you know, you’re a virgin.” locking the car with a loud beep, chad swings his lanyard around his fingers, letting his keys jangle against each other carelessly. laughing loudly when he catches a glimpse of ethan’s shocked expression, he holds his hands out in reassurance. “well i mean, after tonight you won’t be.”

“i’m not gonna do anything with her unless she wants me to.” walking past the automated doors, he waits for chad to walk in front of him, not wanting to waste time and lead the two into the wrong aisle. 

“well of course, but it’s better to be safe than sorry at the end of the night. don’t wanna get her pregnant or anything.” chad grins, walking towards an aisle in the back – almost too easily, like he’s been here a million times. 

“right. how do you…put one on?” glancing at the many colorful boxes to his left, he clears his throat when turning to his right, staring at the shelf of the pregnancy test. 

“open the wrapper, careful not to rip it that’s important, then just slide it on. if it’s that much trouble just ask the girl.” chad hums to the music playing overhead in the store, squatting down to get a peak at the bottom shelves. 

“oh, okay. what about lube, think i’ll need that?” eyeing the different brands of condoms, he  feels his phone buzz again, the weight of his phone all of a sudden feeling heavy in his pants. 

2 messages from angel girl

ethan smiles at the notifications, quickly swiping into his phone to answer you. warmth bubbles in his chest as he replies, watching his message turn from sent to read in just a second.

“hey, are you listening to me?” 

“huh?” looking up from his phone, his smile drops, snapping out of his dazed state.

“i said, lube is a waste of money. just use spit, works the same if you can also get her wet.” picking up a box of magnums, chad stands from his squatted position, patting out the creases in his pants before heading to the register. “there’s nothing to be worried about, bro. just make sure you focus when it happens, stay in the moment. the usual.”

“mhm.” now very anxious, ethan trails behind his roommate with twisted fingers. “maybe i should take the costume off?” picking at the hem of his shirt under the cardboard vest, he laughs awkwardly; imagining you taking his ridiculous costume off before climbing under the blankets had him shaking his head.

“maybe just keep the helmet, can’t not dress up at a halloween party.” grabbing his wallet from his pocket once they reached the self checkout machines, he scanned the box before swiping his card. “we should go, mindy’s been on my ass.”

the two of them ran to the car, seeking shelter from the rain that turned from a light drizzle to a thundering pour. ethan ran his hands through his hair, combing his damp brown hair out of his face. leaning back into the leather seat with a huff, he groaned dragging his hands down his cheeks, the cardboard around his chest stiffening his movements. 

slipping his arms into the cut out holes, he shimmied the fake armor over his head and let it clumsily fall into the back seat. memories of you and him making the costume made him frown; he thought back to how pretty you look with ruffled hair, sitting on his bedroom floor in only pajamas, cutting away at the cardboard material with kid scissors, cursing at him when he accidentally cut out of the traced lines.

the loud crinkle of plastic strips him of his thoughts, chad loudly tearing into the box. “take a few. i’m just gonna leave the box in the car…for later.” 

“think you’re gonna end up with tara tonight?” ethan teases with a smirk. picking at the golden packs, he holds them up to the window, letting the plastic shine against the dull streetlight. 

“shut up, now strap in. we’re already late i cannot take another text from mindy.”

the far-off sound of music caught ethan’s attention as chad pulled into the neighborhood, a variety of cars piled into the driveway and along the street, lights flashing from the windows inside the house. 

grabbing his poorly made helmet made of cardboard, he slipped it over his head, making sure it sat comfortably and evenly on top of his hair.

“did tara tell you what she was gonna wear?” checking his phone for your notification, ethan frowned slightly when finding out you had left him on read. he was only a few paces from the house, where he would soon find you. although the more he thought of you, the more the nerves began to eat at him. would you even want to sleep with him, what if he was going to make a fool of himself – what if you friendzoned him. rubbing his forehead with a sigh, he stuffed a few condoms into his pockets, his heart beating out of his chest. 

“pirate i think, wanted to match but it was too last minute. what about your girl?” making sure the car was locked after they had got out, chad shoves his keys into his pants, letting the lanyard hang within view. 

“she didn’t want to tell me, said it was gonna be a surprise.” feeling his heartbeat in his ears, ethan balled his fist tightly, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. he didn’t want to mess things up with you, he was scared – scared that he would mess things up and lose the best person that had ever shown up in his life. 

“relax, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“i’m trying, i’m just nervous. i don’t want things to go the wrong way tonight, what if i misread her.” stopping outside the door, he could hear the roar of music, walls vibrating with each base drop. the faint smell of marijuana and alcohol tickled his nose, his face churning immediately at the unpleasant smell. 

“whatever happens is for a reason, don’t make sex your first priority. if she wants to fuck you, which im sure she does, she’ll make it clear. stop worrying.” chad places a hand on the brunette’s shoulder, squeezing comfortably. 

“right. make sure i don’t drink too much? i actually want to remember this night.” taking one last deep breath, ethan turns the knob on the door, finally arriving at the party. an overwhelming amount of people crowded the kitchen, abandoned red solo cups lingering all over the house. 

pushing through the crowd of people with curt apologies, ethan scanned over the horde of tipsy college students, looking for your face in the midst of it all. relaxing a bit when he saw anika in the corner of the room with mindy, he glanced over his shoulder to see if chad was following him before nudging his way through to his friends across the room.

“where have you guys been? i thought we agreed to be here 45 minutes ago!” mindy throws exasperated hands in the air, eyebrows raised mockingly.

“traffic. where’s y/n?” frowning when he didn’t see you amongst the other girls, he turned back to the kitchen to see if you were stuffed in there.

“she was here a second ago.i  think she went to ask tara if she knew where you were, but honestly who knows where that little pirate could be.” anika shrugs lightly at the question, repositioning her legs over her girlfriend’s. “what’s going on with you two anyways?”

“noth-”

“ethan?” 

spinning on his heel at the sound of your voice, he can’t help but let a smile paint his lips. his voice catching in his throat when he sees you, he drops his arms to his side. jaw dropping ever so slightly, he couldn’t stop the way he looked you up and down, engraving your image in the back of his mind.

you were head to toe in white; high socks that squeezed the fat of your thighs, a white mini skirt  that just barely covered the curve of your ass, a semi see through corset, and to top it all off – a pair of small feathery wings that sat on your exposed shoulders.

“an angel.”

“surprise! where’s the rest of your costume? we worked so hard on it.” stepping closer to him to fix his lopsided helmet, you brushed hair out of his eyes with a pout. 

“left it in the car, didn’t want it to get ruined or anything.” looking down at you with a smile, he lets his hands wander to your hips; his thumbs caressing your skin just above the waistline of your short mini skirt. 

“oh, that’s a shame. you looked so cute in it.” pinching his cheeks in a playful manner, you bit your lip with a laugh, watching him squirm away from you. “let’s get a drink, i’ve been waiting for you.”

grabbing his hand in your left, you intertwined your fingers together, pulling him to the crowded kitchen. half filled bottles and empty plastic cups littered the marble countertop, a sticky residue sheening over the surface of the table. 

“hm, i think there’s enough for a couple shots.” 

letting go of his hand but still keeping him close, you leaned over the island to grab cups; unscrewing the cap of a half empty vodka bottle, you chewed your lip in concentration, completely eyeballing the amount of liquor you poured into the plastic cup. 

“bottoms up, baby!” bringing the cup up to your lips, you cringed lightly, the smell of alcohol making your eyes water. squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you tilted your head back letting the liquid flow into your mouth before swallowing. shaking your head with a groan, you stuck your tongue out feeling the booze burn down your throat, almost instantly warming your chest. “so gross.”

ethan hesitated before drinking the foul smelling alcohol, coughing abruptly afterwards. “not worth it.” hearing you laugh at him, he teasingly shoved your shoulder with a soft smile. “do you think…we could talk?”

“we’re talking right now, pretty boy.” starting to pour another round of shots, you briefly glanced up at him at his silence. “is something wrong?” 

“nothing’s wrong, i just meant talk in private.” taking off his fake helmet, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck – patiently waiting for you to finish taking another shot before replying.

“let’s go upstairs.” wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you tossed your now empty cups in the trash before grabbing his wrist and pulling him through the house. music blaring uncomfortably in your ear, you took in your surroundings before leaving; people at every inch of the house, a line forming for the bathroom, corners where couples made out, and a couch where all of your friends sat. catching chad’s eye, he gave you a knowing smirk while raising his eyebrows. flipping him off in return, you squeezed ethan’s wrist lightly, guiding him up the stairs and to an empty bedroom. 

ethan tried his hardest not to look up your skirt while you walked in front of him, but of course he failed. he caught a glimpse of your undergarments – pretty pink panties with a white lace lining the edges. swallowing his guilt, he shifted his gaze back to the ground, fearing that he would get worked up the longer he stared. “do you know where you’re going?”

“not in the slightest, but it’s a big house, there’s bound to be one more vacant bedroom.” jiggling the knobs of each door, you giggled quietly hearing the muted moans from inside occupied rooms. “oh here.” twisting the handle and peeking inside, you opened the door for him when deeming it was clear. 

closing and locking the door behind you, you made your way over to the bed, sitting on the edge with your hands neatly folded in your lap. “what’s on your mind? you’re kinda scaring me.” 

dropping his costume prop near the door, ethan covered his face, groaning into his hands before finally piling up enough courage to look you in the eye. “what are we?”

“what do you mean?” furrowing your brows with an awkward laugh, you could feel heat creep up your neck, the liquor settling in your stomach. 

“you’re always calling me these names, and touching me in ways you don’t do with anyone else. i just want to know if you’re playing with me.” sitting next to you on the bed, he kept a fair distance respecting your boundaries. “i like you a lot. more than i want to, i need to know if you feel the same.”

“i-” sighing loudly with shaky hands, you shifted your position, sitting on your knees while facing him. the hem of your skirt creeping up your thighs as you sat back. “i like you too, i just didn’t know how to tell you.” crawling closer to him, you reached for his hand, pressing his palm to your heart. “this is how you make me feel. all the time.”

“can i kiss you?” 

nodding with a big grin, you let him lean forward to connect your lips. putting a hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself, you hummed softly feeling him pull you closer, straight into his lap. the kiss was sweet and soft, lips moving slowly against each other, teeth clashing together with inexperience. you wrapped your arms around his neck, slightly grinding your hips down into his. “fuck, sorry.”

whining into your mouth, ethan squeezed your hips harshly. “no, please. again, m’felt good.” pulling away from your lips with a heavy pant, he cupped your face, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone.

“yeah? s’that why you brought me up here?” giggling, you rolled your hips again, the seam of his pants nudging at your clothed clit. lips parting with a quiet moan, you bit the inside of your cheek, a blush painting your cheeks.

“maybe.” tilting your head up with his thumb, he pressed kisses down your exposed neck, nibbling and sucking numerous marks along the way. “fuck, i want you.” slipping his hand down your back, he squeezed the fat of your ass, mumbling against your neck.

“i know, baby. but not tonight.” pushing him away just enough to see his face, you pressed a sweet kiss to the button of his nose. “want your first time to be something you’ll remember, not even a little bit fuzzy.”

opening his mouth in protest, you shook your head – your opinion already set in stone. pecking his lips one last time, you climbed off of his lap. 

“you’re such a tease” 

🏷 .:@loaksbitch @sullybby @dilfverz my stinkies

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 1

Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late uploading today, but I went to bed early last night and forgot to schedule this.

Oops!

But! Welcome to what I've been calling Steve is a History Nerd agenda. We see in season two on Steve's essay for colleges that he can link his grandfather's military service with his prowess on the basketball court.

It is also surprisingly well written. *shakes fist at the Duffers stop telling us he's stupid and then showing the opposite, please! Let him be smart, too!*

Summary: The Renaissance Fair is finally back in Hawkins after three year absence (Starcourt was built on the fair site and after the fire it was bulldozed back to it's original field). Everyone is excited, even Steve to everyone's amazement. But Steve is hiding other hidden depths as he offers to help the kids make their costumes for the Fair.

Lucas is struggling with being both a nerd and a jock and fears the judgment of his friends. Steve sets out to help him overcome those doubts to be himself.

Tagging the untaggable: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

***

Nobody expects Steve to be excited for the Renaissance fair. Dustin, Will and Lucas spend hours plotting bribes, schemes and out and out manipulations to get Steve to agree to take them. Even Robin expected him to side with her about the dust and the filth. Eddie expected him to be dismissive of the fantasy aspect of it.

Boy were they all wrong.

For it was Steve to bring up to the group after a rather successful D&D session.

In his hand was a bright pink flier and a wide grin on his face.

“Guys! The Ren Fair is back this year,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “I’ll finally be able to show off that tunic I’ve been working on.”

All heads turned to Steve in shock.

There was a cacophony of questions.

“Since when did you know how to sew?”

“What do you mean back? I didn’t even know Hawkins had one to begin with!”

“You want to go to the Ren Fair?”

“Why would you want to spend all day in the heat and dirt?”

Steve looked around at all off his friends in shock.

“Guys, I love the Ren Fair,” he muttered. “Didn’t you guys know?”

All their jaws dropped.

And Eddie? Eddie felt an icicle to the heart at the sight of Steve’s hurt expression.

“You’ll pardon the peasants, my liege,” Eddie said, bowing grandly. “I’m afraid we have all be harboring under the delusion that Ren Fairs were beneath your notice.”

Steve blinked at him a moment. “But I love that stuff. It’s the history and sword fights and jousting. It’s the like medieval Olympics. It’s the romance and chivalry of knights fighting for a fair maiden’s hand. It’s getting to dress up in fancy clothes and rip into turkey legs like a savage. What’s not to like?”

Dustin frowned. “Who here knew Steve liked history?”

Robin and Nancy raised their hands. They looked around waiting for me people to join them. But they stayed down.

Steve ducked his head and scuffed the floor with the edge of his sneaker.

“The ex-girlfriend I’ll buy,” Dustin continued. “But Robin didn’t become friends with Steve until after he graduated so how did she know?”

Robin blinked at them owlishly. “You mean you guys don’t know?”

Everyone looked around each other and then shook their heads.

“Steve was in my AP history class my junior year,” she said as if this was know fact.

“You do know that AP stands for advance placement, right?” Mike asked.

Eddie smacked the back of his head. “She was in it, dude. Don’t be an ass.”

Steve looked up at him and smiled a little.

Good, Eddie thought. Nothing like a little Mike violence to cheer up Steve.

“He wrote an essay for early placement college exams,” Nancy said. “He didn’t get a chance to turn it in because of our second go round with the Upside Down, but it was really good. It needed a little neatening up with the actual writing, but the history was solid.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks.”

Dustin looked skeptical. “What’s your favorite part of history?”

Steve opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I liked hearing about my grandpa’s time in the US army during WWII, but that was more because he made it interesting. But I really like the Industrial Revolution. Or rather the first Industrial Revolution. There have been four. The first one was from 1760-1840 and featured heavily in the textile movement.”

The room was silent.

“Why textiles, Stevie?” Eddie asked as the silence grew awkward.

Steve lit up like a child at Christmas morning and he began talking about the British textile movement.

“What the hell?” Dustin huffed, breaking into Steve monologue.

Steve ducked his head again and blushed. “Just because I’m not interested in science and fantasy doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” He straightened up. “And yeah, sometimes I get things wrong. But everyone does at some point. In fact I get a hell of a lot more flack for my intelligence than Eddie does and he repeated his senior year twice!” He took a deep breath and then ran his fingers through his hair.

“No offense,” he said waving to Eddie.

Eddie looked up at him with earnest eyes. “None taken. I concur.”

They all looked around at each other in shock. Like they hadn’t realized that they had done that.

After a few moments, Steve put his hands on his hips and pointed at all of them.

“So do you guys want to go or what?”

Eddie sat back with a smile as everyone roared their approval.

*

“No corsets,” was Robin’s only firm and fast rule for Steve when it came to dressing her up for the Ren Fair.

Steve looked her up and down. “Why on earth would I want you in a corset? Have you looked in the mirror?”

“Uh...” Robin said. “Is that a trick question? Of course I have. I don’t what that has to do with saying no to corsets though...”

Steve rolled his eyes. “In order to give you the curve you need to match the proper silhouette you would need to be cinched to hell. And as this is supposed to be fun.”

He grabbed her hand and started hauling her toward his car.

“Where are we going?”

“Thrifting!” he said with glee.

It took three different stores and a stop at the mall to get everything he needed.

“Give me three days,” he told her when he dropped her off at her house. “And I think you’ll like what I come up with.”

Robin eyed him warily. “If you say so.”

Steve laughed.

He crashed the next D&D session, showing up early to pick them up.

“What is everyone wearing to the Ren Fair?” he asked with a note pad on his lap and wagged the pen in his fingers.

“You want us to dress up?” Mike asked, eyes wide.

“Why not?” he asked with a shrug. “I’ve made my costume and currently reworking some thirfted threads for Robin’s outfit.”

Eddie blinked. “You made your costume?”

Steve shrugged again. “Yeah. I like sewing.”

There was suddenly an uproar and he held up a hand. “I can’t make you a full outfit before the Fair, but I can make over already made clothes to make them more historical. And maybe for next year I’ll have the time to make something special for everyone.”

Dustin eyed him suspiciously. “Like what?”

“Like tailoring pants to a tighter fit,” Steve explained “adding a sash or belt, turning old coats into vests and cloaks, things like that.”

They still weren’t sure how that would work out.

“Now I talked to Joyce and Claudia,” he continued. “And they’re both willing to help out in making sure everyone has something nice to wear. That includes Max and El.”

“Are the fair maidens joining us?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Joyce is doing El and Will, Claudia is doing Dustin and Mike, and I’m doing Lucas and Max. Eddie said he already had a costume, so I didn’t have to worry about him.”

Eddie grinned. “You better believe it, pretty boy.”

Steve ducked his head and blushed. “So we’re all going thrifting with a $5 limit for each of you. But I wanted to brainstorm some ideas of what you wanted to go as so we don’t waste time wandering around.”

Everyone started shouting at once and it took Steve a good ten minutes before he got everyone calmed down enough to get what they wanted. Dustin wanted to go as a hobbit, but Steve had to nix that one.

“You don’t want to go running around the grounds barefoot,” he explained with a wince. “It’s not safe.”

“I’m going to have to agree with Stevie on this one,” Eddie said. “You guys have never been but there is all sorts of stuff laying around. It’s not indoors and the pathways are dirt lined. Think the state fair. It’s more like that then going to comic book convention.”

Dustin grumbled but conceded the point. Steve got them to decide on... well not quite peasant gear, but more rough around the edges than what Steve would be wearing.

Well, all but Lucas. He didn’t want to wear what they were wearing but he refused to say what he did want to wear.

So Steve dropped him off at home last.

They pulled into his driveway and Steve turned to him. “Do you not want to dress up? Because I won’t make you.”

Lucas picked at the loose string on his sweater. “It’s not that. I just remember the last time we did a group costume and they all thought I should be Winston because I was black like he was.”

Steve frowned for a moment. “The Ghostbusters, right?”

Lucas nodded. “I knew if I brought it up they’d shoot me down again.”

“So what did you want to go as?” he asked.

Lucas huffed out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a stupid pipe dream anyway. Especially since you have to make Max’s dress and Robin’s costume, too.”

He opened the door to get out, but Steve reached over and slammed it closed.

“One, Robin’s costume is almost done,” he said counting out on his fingers. “Two, do you really think your girlfriend is going to want to wear a dress? And three, let me be the judge on what’s too much for me, okay?”

Lucas huffed a laugh at his second point. “Yeah, that was dumb of me.”

“So what is it?”

Lucas looked down again and heaved out a sigh. “An elf.”

Steve’s mind was whirling with the possibilities. “What colors?”

“What?” Lucas asked, not sure he heard Steve right.

“What colors would you want it to be?”

He pulled out the notebook and scrambled for a pen. Lucas pulled a pencil out of his bag and handed it to him.

“Uh I was thinking of a light blue and with a silver trim?” he said hesitantly.

Steve sketched something out. “Like this?”

Lucas leaned over to look at the drawing. “A little shorter so I’m not tripping over it and maybe those puffy pants?”

Steve adjusted the drawing and Lucas nodded.

“Yeah, like that.”

“All right,” Steve said. “I know exactly what to do and how to do it. It won’t be perfect because I don’t have time to do it right so I’ll be doing a lot of cheating. But yeah, it’s doable.”

Lucas gave him a hug. “Thanks, man.”

*

Steve called the one person he knew he could help him.

“Eddie,” he said the second the other man picked up. “I need your nerd connections to do a huge favor for Lucas.”

“Wha’cha got, big boy?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“You wouldn’t happen to know any Trekkies would you?” Steve asked chewing on his bottom lip.

“That depends, Stevie,” Eddie replied, “what’s the need?”

“Pointed ears.”

Eddie hummed. “I’m assuming you’re thinking Trekkie because of Spock and that’s a good thought. But I’m guessing since we’re going to the Ren Fair our stalwart ranger is wanting to be an elf?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Do you know anyone who can help?”

“Better than that,” Eddie said. “I know where to get the ears in the right... shade?”

Steve perked up. “Oh? I’m guessing Jeff?”

“Right in one, darlin’,” Eddie said with a soft smile. “I’ll give him a call and then call you back.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Steve breathed. “You’re the best.”

“Thanks, doll.”

****

I am so excited for this, guys. You have no idea. I'm little history nerd myself and this really fun to play around with.

Just a heads up. We WILL be addressing Mike's casual racism from the Ghostbusters scene because I don't like that it's never been addressed.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @artiststarme ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

[girliism]

girl dad!art who had to dress up as princess for his daughters party cause the company he used to hire the real princess had to cancel.

“what do mean she canceled? can’t you send someone else. we can’t have a princess party without a princess.” art slams his phone down on the counter. “honey, where’s the princess?” art looked at you. “she’s be here soon.”

“mommy, when’s the princess coming.” your daughter asked. it was her 6th birthday and all she wanted was a real princess at her party. “she’ll be here soon love. why don’t you go wait by the present table.” watching your daughter scurry away you make your way back inside to see something you’ll never forget. “oh my god.”

thank god art spent all that money on wigs and makeup and costumes from when your daughter wanted to play dress up.

“did someone called for a princess?” a high pitched voice calls into the background. the kids scream running up to her well him. and there art stood in pink fluffy princess dress a long blonde wig and tiara. “is that art?” tashi ask as her husband patrick laughs taking pictures for blackmail.

“you must be the birthday girl. i hear you’re turning six. i’m princess artina” art improvises. your daughter looks up at her dad in the princess costume with tinkling eyes as she nods totally in awe. “will you cut the cake with me princess artina?” art says yes.

the rest of the night is spent opening presents and saying goodbye to guest.

“did you have so much fun at your party?” you ask you daughter tucking her in for bed. “yes! it was the best party ever.” she smiles big at you missing tooth on display. “i hear there was a princess. i can’t believe i missed it.” art walks in the room and you leave the two of them.

“i’m glad you had fun today.” art pinches his daughters cheek. your daughter pinches his cheek back “i’m sorry you missed the princess.” art shrugs. “maybe next time yeah. now get some sleep.” kissing her on the forehead getting to walk out the door.

“daddy. i know it was you, i just didn’t want to ruin it for the other kids.” art smiles at her before turning the lights off leaving her to sleep.

making his way back to the master bedroom he flops in between your legs burying his face in your stomach. “long day princess artina?” you laugh combing your fingers through his hair. “shut up.” art chuckles bringing his head up to bite your nose lightly. flicking the light off the two of you sleep tangled together.

(i’m gonna love adding random stuff to this series also yes i took inspiration from despicable me 2) 

[jayteacups]

It's A Wrap!

Working on Attack on Titan as a makeup artist has irreversibly changed your life. As the end rapidly approaches, you find that letting go is harder than you’d thought. After years of harbouring feelings for Levi that you can’t divulge, his final day on set arrives. You know it’s time to say goodbye to him and part ways—but maybe you don’t have to. 

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x GN!Reader 

Tags & warnings: Actor!Levi, Makeup artist!Reader, fluff, confessions, friends/idiots to lovers, alcohol consumption, briefly implied sexual content, AOT finale spoilers

Word count: 6.9k words

A/N: I’m back, happy Levi month everyone! I wrote this over the last month to cope with the fact AOT was ending and also life stuff. This is incredibly self indulgent, also I would love to tell more stories and scenarios in this AU, so this probably won’t be the last one-shot I write for actor!Levi and MUA!Reader hehehe. Disclaimer that I don't work in film or TV or makeup, sorry if there are any inaccuracies. Also please forgive me for the uncreative title, lol. Hope you enjoy the fic!

Levi’s last day on set is bittersweet. 

For the final time, you lean against the wall and count down the seconds on your watch. The trailer door swings open to reveal the man of the hour. On par for the course, Levi arrives fifteen minutes on the dot before his scheduled arrival time. He’s holding his usual steaming flask of tea in one hand, with a nondescript rucksack (save for a Badtz-Maru keychain gifted to him from the Sanrio collaboration) slung over his shoulder. 

“Hey,” you greet him, pushing off from the wall, moving towards him like a moth to flame. He sets down his things in the sitting area and meets you halfway, letting you pull him into your arms. After years of working alongside each other, you’ve both grown accustomed to greeting each other like this in private, especially after the stress the two of you had put yourselves under during the Season 3 shoots. 

“How are you feeling? It’s your last day.” You ask him as the two of you part. To your dismay, you’re already missing the warmth of his embrace. 

“I’m fine. I’m not going to get all sappy about it.” His face is placid.

“That’s what Hange said when they filmed their death scene, and we saw how that ended,” you say lightheartedly. Hange had sworn to remain jovial and upbeat throughout their last day, but after seeing the several other actors cry at their phenomenal acting, they had promptly broken down. “And I bet you anything that Eren’s going to say that when he and Mikasa do the cabin scene next week, and we all know he’ll be the first to start crying and the last to stop.” 

Levi rolls his eyes before he enters the wardrobe area, but you know he’s not serious. “If you think I’m going to break down in tears like Hange and the kids did, you’re dead wrong,” he continues, out of sight. 

You smile. “Sure. It’s alright, you know, if you do end up crying. It’s an end of an era, we’re all going to get emotional.” 

A few moments later, Levi emerges in costume, sans the bandages. He sits down in front of the mirror at the vanity table. “Yes, but I’m satisfied with what I’ve done here, and I have no regrets,” he muses out loud, continuing on from before. “And it’s not like I’m done with the show. There’s the wrap party, then the press tour and all that. So don’t expect me to get all worked up today. I’m not saying goodbye to Attack on Titan just yet.” His voice softens towards the end. 

But it is goodbye for us, you wish to say. And I don’t want it to be. You haven’t been contracted for any of their press events. After you finish with Attack on Titan, you’ll have a handful of weeks before your upcoming contract for a new show begins. It’s a wonderful opportunity; the show is airing on a major streaming service and requires you to push your SFX skills to the limit. Sasha had been cast in one of the main roles and both Onyankopon and Nifa will make appearances too, so you’ll see some familiar faces on this new project. But selfishly, you aren’t ready to let go and move forward. Selfishly, you aren’t ready to part ways with Levi. 

Sure, the two of you will make an effort to talk every now and then. You know him far better than to assume he’ll stop talking to you the moment Attack on Titan is finished; despite him being standoffish at first, it’s clear Levi cares deeply about everybody he’s ever worked with, cast or crew alike. But the chances of your demanding schedules ever lining up again are close to zero, and sooner or later, your frequent messages will fizzle out into a conversation lost to the ages. You’ll drift, until the two of you are strangers once more. It’s inevitable; you’ve seen it happen before with your actor friends from old projects. No doubt it’ll happen again. 

You consider addressing the elephant in the room, wondering if it lingers on his mind, too. But instead, you hum in agreement and pass him a headband to hold his hair out of the way. He puts it on, clearly content to not bring it up just yet. 

Levi chews on the inside of his cheek as you sort out your equipment on the vanity table. Your eyes are immediately drawn to his lips, which are a little more chapped than usual. It’s clear there is something else that’s bothering him, but you decide to let it go for now. Sometimes Levi just needs to sit with his thoughts for a moment. You’ve learned that being pushed just makes him close himself off even more. A life in the limelight can be unforgiving. Kuchel Ackerman had been the brightest star of her generation, but behind the scenes, her personal life was far from glamorous. It doesn’t surprise you that her son keeps his heart and feelings well-guarded. 

As he sits and stews, you apply chapstick and some basic ‘barely-there’ makeup on his face, before creating the illusion of a hard-fought battle by adding a light layer of grime to his face. You’ll add more after the scar and bandages. As you work, Levi takes out a folder from his bag, which is embellished with a small cat sticker that Hange had stuck on years ago. From it, he takes his copy of the script, nary a crease in the sheets. Brow furrowed, he reads it over and over, mouthing his lines with the fervour of a prayer. 

Now, that is odd. 

“There is something on your mind, isn’t there?” You’ve also read the script for today’s scene. The director had decided to save Levi’s most poignant scene—where his character salutes the ghosts of his fallen comrades—for the very end of his shoot. (Levi’s epilogue scene had been shot a week prior.) This would be his most challenging scene yet, for it would be the first time he and his character will ever cry on screen. “You can tell me if you want. Anything you need to help you focus. There’s still time.” You give him a quick squeeze on his shoulder. 

Stormy eyes glance up at his reflection, than up at yours. He puts down the script and sighs, voice subdued. “I just want to do the Captain’s ending justice, and I don’t think I can.” 

“I think you can,” you murmur. You gesture for him to close his eyes, and pick up your finest brush. Willing your hand and heart into steadiness, you bring the brush up to his forehead, where the largest scar begins. You’ll never get used to how infuriatingly gorgeous he is. “No. I know you can. There is no doubting just how much you care about portraying him correctly.” 

He swallows. “Well, I’ve never cried on camera before.” He stops, giving you a moment to work. 

With the utmost care, you begin to draw the main line of the largest scar, the one that passes through his eye and lips. As the brush passes over his eyelid, it twitches ever so slightly, his long lashes tickling your hand. Smiling, you brush away a stray lash that had fallen onto his cheek. As you extend the line down his cheek, you try to reassure him. Levi’s usually so steadfast, but it makes sense that something like this would grow heavy on his mind. 

“You’ve been practicing it with your coach, though, right? I mean, I’ve had to cover up your swollen eyes a number of times this season.” 

“Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

The brush reaches his lips. He opens his eyes, looking up at you through lowered lashes. Your heart aflutter, you staunchly ignore any and all thoughts of kissing him. Doing so has become more and more difficult with every passing day. Especially when every now and then, you think you see him glancing down at your lips whenever you lean in close to examine a detail of your work. 

It’s more than likely that you’re imagining it, though. 

Finally, the brush reaches his chin, finishing the outline of the first scar. You lean back to admire your work. After many instances of painstakingly painting on the scars and agonising over continuity, you don’t have to look at your old reference pictures to know the exact shape and curve of them, down to the millimetre. But you do so anyway, and smile in satisfaction when you compare today’s line to the pictures from the first time you drew them on him for practice. A perfect match. 

“I know you’ve been working hard at it,” you continue assuring him, putting down the reference photos. “You’ve definitely come a long way.” 

“Yeah, but I’m shit at it, actually. All those times we joked about how Eren would take forever to conjure a single tear every time he needed to cry, and now here I am in the exact same position. He’s going to rub this in my face should he ever find out.” He chews the inside of his cheek again, looking down. “Damn it. Don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I’m not… I don’t get nervous. I don’t show up to work feeling unprepared. That isn’t me. But today, it is.” 

It’s unsettling, to see him so unsure of himself. His nerves are understandable, as he came into the show with more of a stuntman background and little actual acting experience. But anybody who’s worked alongside him could easily tell you just how dedicated he is to improving his craft, and that nobody else could play the Captain with the same quiet subtleties that Levi brings to the screen. 

You hope your smile is somewhat reassuring to him. “And that’s okay. You know, crying on command really isn’t easy. I’ve worked with countless actors and many also find it difficult.” In your experience, most actors need a while to work themselves up to cry. The most obvious exception is Armin, who has the unnerving ability to turn it on and off like a light switch. “For you, all you need to do is make one tear out of one eye. You’ve managed to do that before, right?” 

He nods, but the firm clench of his jaw and the crease between his brows don’t fade.

“So, it’s nothing that you haven’t practiced. And on the off chance that you can’t do it today, that’s perfectly fine. I have eyedrops in my bag.” 

“Yeah, but…” He shakes his head in frustration. “This is going to sound dumb, but it… I don’t know, that feels like cheating. I know you’re thinking I’m being an idiot, and I probably am. I know eyedrops are common practice. It’s just… This is my character’s last moment before the epilogue, and I want it to be real. I don’t want to take the easy way out.” 

“No, it’s not stupid. There’s no shame in needing to use eyedrops if you end up not being able to cry today, but it’s really admirable that you want to do it as authentically as possible. I think that since this is your final scene, and so many people are returning this morning, it’ll be easier than usual to muster up those tears.” Reaching for a set of different brushes and paint, you instruct him, “here’s what we’re going to do. I need you to just listen whilst I do the rest of your scars. I don’t want you to get trapped in your head about this, okay? Overthinking will just make it harder to get into character. Isn’t that what you said to Mikasa all those years back? It worked wonders for her. I often forget that this show was her first ever gig, with how good she’s become.” 

He scoffs. “Really? You’re using my own words against me?”

“Well, what use is your own advice if you can’t follow it yourself?” 

After a moment of hesitation, Levi sighs in defeat and closes his eyes again. “Shit, you’re relentless. Fine, then. I’ll trust you.” 

You get to work, drawing the outlines of the second scar parallel to the first, then the smaller ones on his other cheek. As you add in the details, such as the texture of the stitches, you remind Levi of another story that he himself told you. He’d never worked with horses before being cast in this show, and yet was one of the quickest learners. Unsurprisingly so, since he’s incredibly kinaesthetically intelligent. To this day, the cast insists he looks the most at ease atop a horse, only second to Erwin, who actually used to ride in his childhood. You remind him that every single time, his hard work has more than paid off.

Somewhere down the line, you go off topic. Levi makes no move to stop you. In fact, he seems content just to listen to you talk about anything, everything. As the wounds take shape on his face, you reminisce on anecdotes from set, on the time the two of you spent together. With fondness, you recall your first meeting. Back then, you were an lowly assistant on the SFX team, transforming an unassuming man into the wounded soldier who, in his dying moments, listened to the Captain’s vow to eradicate the titans and bring meaning to his sacrifice. You talk about how the two of you grew closer during the filming of the second season, when Levi had a lot more free time to talk. How difficult the third season had been to film due to both of you being spread thin by additional responsibilities.

You skim over that time Levi mentioned you in an interview when asked about a favourite memory on set, and how warm it made you feel. You don’t talk about how you’d genuinely teared up after watching the final cut of the scene where Hange discovers a half-dead Levi by the riverbank, despite knowing that his ‘injuries’ were nothing more than your own handiwork.

And, with your heart clenching painfully, you certainly don’t dare to bring up the almost-kiss at last year’s cast and crew Halloween party.

——— 

“Cut! Perfect! Aaand that’s a wrap for Levi!” 

The set erupts into thunderous applause. You clap heartily alongside the rest of the cast and crew. A deafening symphony of whoops and cheers fills the air, and if not for the growing lump in your throat, you’d join in too. 

A standing ovation. Levi deserves it and more. Just as you expected, every angle the director wanted to capture had needed one take each, not a single one more. No eyedrops needed. 

From your position, you can see Levi still sitting by the rock. Strangely, he makes no move to get up. Curious as to why, you peer past some crew members that had moved in the way, but you’re greeted with a sight that pulls at your heartstrings. Your eyes sting with new tears. 

Curled up by the rock, Levi has his face buried in his hands, his shoulders heaving with quiet sobs. 

Something in your chest aches. You knew that he would get emotional at the end—there was no way he wouldn’t, especially considering that his character cried too—but you didn’t expect him to feel so overwhelmed. 

On instinct, your feet propel you towards him, but you’re promptly cut off by a few other crew members moving around. Through your rapidly blurring vision, you can only watch as several of the returning cast members rush forward from the smoke. Hange reaches him first, and pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. Erwin is second, kneeling next to the duo and rubbing Levi’s back comfortingly. 

Sniffling, you quickly wipe away your tears, remembering suddenly that you still have something to do. Unnoticed, you slip away from set.

There is a tradition amongst the cast that whenever a character dies, the actor receives a bouquet of flowers from the cast and crew. (A size limit had to be enforced after a very emotional Gabi had presented Sasha with a bouquet so large it couldn’t fit through the trailer door.) For this final season, the tradition has expanded to gifting the actor a bouquet when they wrap, for the characters that survive all the way to the very end. 

The door to Connie’s trailer is unlocked when you arrive, just as he said it would be. Inside, you find a vase full of vibrantly coloured flowers on the kitchenette counter in the exact spot where you’d left it earlier this morning. Several weeks ago, the cast and crew had all nominated you to put in the order for the bouquet and present it to Levi on his final day, and Connie had offered to help you hide it from Levi until it was time. Careful to not drip water all over the floor, you pick up the flowers and jog back to set. 

The fog machines are being carried out by the time you return. You immediately scan the set for Levi, but it seems he has been completely buried under a massive group hug with the veterans cast, no doubt Hange’s doing. You can’t help but smile at the sight. Most of the crew members appear to be taking a break before clean-up, as it is the end of the day. The air is filled with chatter, but a hush descends upon the crowd as you approach. 

The actors peel away from the hug one by one. A smiling Petra helps Levi get to his feet. The bandages on his face are halfway unravelled. With one hand, he yanks them off, leaving both of his eyes to gaze at you unobstructed, ablaze with an intense emotion you can’t quite place. With his other hand, he quickly wipes away the half-dried tears on his cheeks. 

“On behalf of the cast and crew,” you say hoarsely, “I give you these.” You step forward and present him the bouquet. “It’s been an honour. Thank you for everything, Levi.” 

His fingers gently graze yours as he takes the flowers from you. Tenderly, he holds them close to his chest. 

“I was wondering where you went just now,” he says. Of course he’d noticed. “Should’ve known you’d be the one to give me this…” His voice wavers towards the end. He scoffs and wipes at his eyes. “And to think I was done blubbering like a baby. Damn it. You were right.” 

He pulls you into a hug without a second thought. 

——— 

Somehow, you’ve been roped into taking photos for everyone. Levi unwraps the bandages around his hand before he begins. He first takes a photo with the director and producer, who both thanking him dearly. They part with a handshake. Almost immediately after, the cast members of the Alliance, along with Eren and Zeke, all swarm forward for a big group photo. They’d all come to watch in support, even if several of them weren’t scheduled to come in today. Connie confesses that he’d helped hide the bouquet by letting you into his trailer. Levi makes a light-hearted remark that he should’ve figured that out too, considering Connie also helped hide Hange’s bouquet—which Levi himself had been responsible for ordering and retrieving. 

The veteran actors come forward next. Fitting them all into the camera frame was a challenge, but you manage to do it after one of your makeup assistants finds you a stool. Somehow, Erwin manages to persuade Levi into doing the Scout salute with the rest of them. (“I just did it in the scene, though… Fine, I’ll indulge in your corniness for today, you dorks.”) When he presses his fist to his chest one last time, the veterans erupt into cheers. 

Hange and Erwin both stay back for a little longer. The trio pose for more photos, all grinning widely, though you decide to put a stop to the mini-photoshoot when Hange attempts to pick Levi up bridal-style and almost drops him. 

(“When I said ‘put me down’, I didn’t mean for you to drop me with no fucking warning!” 

“I didn’t mean to drop you. Besides, I caught you, didn’t I? You’re fine, see?”) 

After that fiasco, Levi asks to take one with the original Special Ops Squad, as it had been years since they’d managed to meet up. 

Zeke comes back for another photo, slipping one arm around Levi’s shoulders. As you meet the taller man’s eyes over the top of his phone, he winks mischievously, holding two fingers up in bunny ears above Levi’s unsuspecting head. Say nothing, he mouths to you. With a herculean effort, you suppress your laugh. Zeke has made it his personal mission to photobomb every main cast member from the finale. After months of shooting, Levi is the last one standing, and it’s incredibly entertaining how hard Zeke tries to finish his mission, even now. 

“Hand down, Zeke.” 

“Damn it, how did you know?” 

“You’re about as subtle as Reiner is when he pretends he hasn’t broken a prop.” 

Zeke laughs. “Nothing gets past you, Levi, does it?”

As the two continue to playfully bicker, more jokes than actual verbal barbs, you open the photo you’d managed to take split seconds before Levi called Zeke out. “Mission accomplished,” you say, and a delighted Zeke reaches over Levi’s head to high-five you. Looking mildly betrayed, Levi whips his head back around to face you. 

You grin sheepishly as you pass Zeke’s phone back to him, the photo on display. “Sorry. I had to help him.” 

“Why are you two like this?” Levi says, shaking his head, barely holding back a smile. He and Zeke part after a hug and a promise to get drinks soon.

Levi’s promptly joined by Falco and Gabi, and after their photo is taken, he ruffles their hair affectionately, which makes Gabi yelp. He really has stepped into the ‘cast dad’ role, a development that you find endlessly endearing. Soon after, their parents arrive to take them home— the kids have quite an early start tomorrow to film their scenes with Annie and Kiyomi on the boat. 

Jean and Connie take the chance to snatch a couple of selfies with him, before the latter asks if he could join them to film a TikTok for the show’s official account. To Levi’s utmost relief, it isn’t a dance challenge. Connie instead asks him a few questions about how he feels about the show ending, and what the show means to him—he’s putting together a montage of every cast member’s responses. 

On the sidelines, just out of view, you watch Levi give his answers. An ember of warmth kindles in your chest. 

Soon after, Levi’s approached by the stunt team, headed by an old friend of Levi’s from his stuntman days. She’d made a cameo in the third season as Kenny’s lieutenant. You happily take a group photo for them. 

After you hand Caven’s phone back to her, Hange taps you on the shoulder, having finished catching up with the other cast members. You smile as they hug you tight, swaying on the spot; today is the first time you’ve seen them since they filmed their death scene a few months back. 

“It’s so good to see you!” They say, linking arms with yours. “Sorry it took so long to come and find you.” 

“Don’t worry! It’s lovely having you back. How are you finding your return?” 

“It’s great! I’ve really been missing this, even though it hasn’t been that long.” They pout. 

“Oh, we’ve all missed you too, Hange,” you say, smiling. “Have you been up to much since you left?” 

“Well, I visited my dad for a bit, then I sent in an audition tape for this thriller movie that my agent thinks I’ll be a good pick for. I also got a few other offers, but I’m a little on the fence. I’ll consider those if I don’t get that thriller role, but who knows when I’ll hear back from them?” 

“I bet you’ll get it. Thrillers are right up your alley.” 

“You flatter me, dear,” They grin. “Anyways, I am here to say that you are the only one left who has not taken a picture with Levi. And that needs to change. The two of you need something to remember this day by!” You realise they’ve been guiding you towards the rock, where Levi, Mikasa, Armin and Eren are deep in conversation. The younger actors are laughing boisterously at something Levi had said, heads tilted back, sporting wide grins. Levi’s still cradling his bouquet carefully, a soft smile as he speaks, looking up at his younger cast mates with endearment. Your heart warms at the sight. 

The quartet look up as you approach. The younger actors wave goodbye, disappearing into the crowd. Hange quickly ushers you and Levi together, their phone already out of their pocket. “Alrighty, here we go!” They cheer. “Oi, look lively now, Levi. It’s the last photo!” 

“Was about time we did this,” you whisper to him as you come close. At first, you settle into your usual stance whenever you take a photo with a cast member, but Levi is not just any cast member. Not to you. Gnawing on your lip, you grapple with yourself for a fleeting moment. Your professional side barely puts up a resistance, and so you lean in to whisper a question. Briefly, you wonder what it would feel like to kiss the delicate shell of his ear. You banish the traitorous thought, best as you can. 

“Hey, can I put my arm around you for this?” As close as you and Levi have grown over the years, the two of you save your brief hugs for behind the scenes, in private. Physical affection is rare with him otherwise—whilst the cast tend to be very touchy with one another, Levi is usually seen on the sides, watching them with a quiet fondness in his eyes. That hug from earlier—it had to be a fluke, right? 

And yet, he sighs, and bridges the small gap between you. His free arm moves behind you, a warm, firm hand comes to rest at your back. “You don’t have to ask, you know,” he murmurs in return. “I hugged you earlier, didn't I? Quit worrying. Go ahead.” 

Warmth blooming inside you, you lean sideways towards him on impulse. You slide your own arm behind him, and Levi leans into your touch. “Just so you know,” he continues, “it was an honour working with you too.” 

Hange starts to count down from three. A wave of emotion hits you, almost sweeps you off your feet. This is it. Your last day of working with him.

Still so much left unsaid. 

Straining to keep your composure, you offer a wide, bright smile for the camera. 

——— 

The next few hours are spent tidying and cleaning up. Most of the actors have gone home, but Levi stays behind to help out the crew, as he always does without fail. With how emotionally taxing the day had been, it’s a wonder he didn’t go back to his trailer immediately to crash. As if you couldn’t admire him any more. 

Your eyelids are heavy by the time you finish up and arrive at Levi’s trailer. When you enter, he is slumped in a chair in front of the vanity mirror, already changed out of his costume. 

Neither of you say a single word as you carefully wipe away the scars and the grime. Your traitorous hands linger for a split second too long whenever they brush against his smooth skin. In his stormy eyes are that same intense look he’d given you when you first appeared with the bouquet. 

You wonder what it means. 

Sooner or later, one of you will have to break this fragile silence. Levi decides to take the matter into his own hands, catching you off guard. “I guess this is it.”

The sting in your eyes returns with a fierce vengeance. You turn away for a moment, rapidly blinking your oncoming tears away. An invisible vice clamps down, mercilessly clenching your chest. 

You choke on your words, but you get them out somehow. “I’ll miss you.” Not the three words you’ve been yearning to say for the last year, but it will have to do. “I’m going to miss you. So much. It’s been…” You wrack your brain, but there is no singular adjective you know of that could truly describe the past few years working on this show with him. “You know what I mean. Right?” 

“I know what you mean.” Levi stands, turning to face you properly. The troubled crease between his brows return. “Look, I… I have to tell you something. Hear me out?” 

Your heart thunders in your chest. You nod. “Yeah. Of course.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Remember this morning? I said I was satisfied with my work here. That I have no regrets.” 

Barely able to breathe, you can only manage to nod. 

“But that isn’t true. Not really. There is one thing I regret,” he says, slowly, cautiously. 

Voice barely a whisper, you ask. “What is it?” 

“That we never talked about what almost happened at Halloween last year.” 

The world comes to a halt. 

Dimmed lights. Bass reverberates through your bones. The aftertaste of a Bloody Mary lingers on your tongue. Levi is just centimetres away, his chest almost flush with yours. His eyes valiantly fight to stay focused on the intricate titan-shifter makeup on your cheeks, before he gives in and his line of sight drops to your lips. Unconsciously, he leans in slightly, seemingly gravitating towards you.

Devastating. That is the first word that comes to your mind. It is high time you realise that he will be the end of you; he could ask anything of you and you’d do it. Your heart beats for him. 

Caught in his orbit, your face tilts towards his.

A drunken crew member barges past, jostling your shoulder. You yelp, stumbling to the side, before Levi’s hands—warm, steady, safe—catch you. The spell broken, he lets go the moment you are upright, averting his eyes from yours. Levi takes a step backwards—a small one, because there is barely any space in the corner of the room the two of you are tucked into. But to you, he suddenly feels so distant, that he might as well be on the other side of the universe. 

“I need some air,” he says, stoic mask falling back into place. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, Levi turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd, taking all the warmth of the room with him. 

No. This is dangerous territory. Since that night, the two of you had constructed an unspoken agreement to pretend nothing had ever happened. Levi had never made any impression that it was anything other than a drunken lapse in professionalism. For a while, you wondered if he even remembered that moment, or if it had all been in your head, a result of you projecting your own desires onto him. 

Regardless, he had never brought it up. You’d been content to do the same. It was—and still is—impossible to fathom that Levi would ever want you. 

“Tell me,” he says hoarsely, “that I wasn’t imagining things that night, and every day since. Tell me I’m not imagining that you’ve been looking at me like…” 

Your breath hitches in your throat. “Like what?” 

“Like that!” He snaps. His hands tremble in a way you’ve never seen before as he gestures towards you, voice tinged with desperation. “Like how you’re looking at me right now. I-I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. Because if I had… maybe I would’ve…” 

The staggering realisation of what he’s trying to say sinks in. 

Choking back a sob of relief, you reach out for his hands, and he offers them to you with no resistance. A light blush sweeps across his face as he stares at your interlocking fingers with something akin to wonder. 

Breathlessly, you dare to ask. “Do you mean it? That if you had known how I felt, you… you would’ve kissed me?”

“Yes. I would’ve. I wanted to, more than anything.” With that, Levi finally looks up from your joined hands. The burning look he’s been giving you all throughout today—you recognise it, now, plain and simple. 

His earlier words ring in your mind. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. 

“Oh, Levi,” you whisper. 

He continues on. “And if I had known how you felt, I wouldn’t have upped and left you like that. I was being a shitty coward, for running away and pretending it never happened, and never giving you an explanation when you deserved one. I was scared, I think, of ruining what we already had. You didn’t imagine anything on my part, it happened, and you didn’t do anything wrong that night… I’m sorry.”

Smiling, you squeeze his hands; warm, steady, safe. “You aren’t imagining things on my end either. I’m in love with you, and have been for a while now.” You don’t need him to say those precious words back for now—Levi’s endearingly clumsy attempt at confessing means more to you than he’ll ever know. “And I forgive you for running out on me that night. We both thought it didn’t mean anything to the other person. For so long, I thought that even if you did, things would never work out, that today would be goodbye, because I have a new contract on the other side of the country, and you’ll be going back to stunt work, a-and…” Your voice trembles, so you force yourself to stop, and breathe. 

“It will work. I swear it, I’m not saying goodbye to you. I don’t care what’s coming next, we can make it work.” He seems to muster his resolve, tugging you closer. “No more dancing around this like idiots. We have enough lost time to make up for.” 

Smiling so widely your cheeks ache, you playfully poke his cheek. “Well, you can always begin with the kiss you owe me, yeah?” 

“You smart-arse.” Levi chuckles, before gently cupping the back of your head with his hand. In a swift movement, he leans in and captures your lips with his.

It’s nothing short of divine. 

Levi kisses you with years worth of yearning behind it. His other hand moves to cradle your face, thumb brushing against the curve of your cheek, wiping away a stray tear of happiness. 

Eyes fluttering shut, you deepen the kiss. Tongues move in tandem, and it isn’t long before hands begin to roam, exploring the terrains of each other’s bodies with an almost innocent curiosity. Heat simmers underneath your skin, a carnal flame yearning to be stoked, to devour. 

For now, though, you’ll have to temper it. 

Coming up for air, you close your eyes, resting your forehead against his. As much as you desperately want him, you don’t want your first time having sex with Levi to be in a trailer on set, with multiple crew members still milling around outside and packing up for the day. You tell him as such, and he murmurs his agreement after kissing you once more. 

“Glad we’re on the same page about that, so…” Realising what you’re about to say next, you choke back a grin at your own cheesiness. “You wanna go back to your place or mine?” 

Levi rests his forehead on your shoulder and chokes back a laugh. “Fuck, that’s such a cliché line.” 

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, but the question still stands.” 

He looks up at you, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Yours, then.” 

The time spent packing up and driving back to your home crawls by agonisingly slowly. The moment the two of you cross the threshold onto your home, he’s closing the gap between the two of you, kissing you breathless, thoughtless, until only your longing for him remains. So much so that you almost forget to stop and get a condom out from your drawer—in fact, Levi has to remind you. 

The rare few times you had allowed yourself to think about it, you’d pictured Levi as a tender lover, gentle despite his coarseness. He is all this and more. At his fingertips, you come alive. As he makes love to you, laughs and sweet nothings fill the air between the deep kisses you share. You should’ve expected just how generous he can be in bed, but it still takes you by surprise, the way he worships your body with a deep-rooted reverence, determined to pleasure you over and over. In turn, you reciprocate eagerly, honoured that Levi trusts you to take care of him in return, that he is so readily vulnerable with you. 

Once the two of you are finally, utterly spent, Levi nudges you awake before you can fully slip into a deep doze, cosy and comfortable in his embrace. “Hey. Gotta clean ourselves up, sleepyhead.” 

You chuckle drowsily, and miraculously muster up the strength to crawl out of his arms, out of the warm sheets. “The bathroom is just down the hall,” you yawn, trudging towards a cupboard not the other side of your room. “You can shower first whilst I change the sheets and find you a towel and some spare clothes, ‘kay?” 

“Or,” Levi says, voice hoarse with the same kind of contented exhaustion that makes you yearn to curl up beneath the sheets in his arms, “you could come with me.” He pulls you back in, peppering gentle kisses along your neck and shoulder, which tickle slightly. 

Euphoric, you close your eyes and laugh. “Okay.” 

Showering together is an incredibly sweet, domestic affair. Long after you’ve rinsed off all the lather, you’re both hesitant to leave the warmth of the running water, content to cling onto each other and relish in the feeling of skin against skin. 

After the two of you dry off and change the sheets, you climb into bed. Half awake and basking in each other’s presence, you pull him close, nestling your head on his chest. When was the last time you had felt so cherished, so happy? 

Sleep claims you swiftly, but not before Levi kisses the top of your head and tells you what you already know: 

“I’m in love with you, too.” 

——— 

Several weeks later

The wrap party is well underway by the time you and Levi arrive. 

The lights are dim, and the music reverberates through your bones. Levi’s hand finds a home in the curve of your waist as he guides you through the crowd of drunken cast and crew members. His touch anchors you, and you find yourself smiling giddily. 

After helping yourself to a cocktail, the hours fly by. Apparently, the entire cast plus half of the crew (including all of the makeup assistants under your command) had been rooting for you and Levi to get together. Tonight when you finally revealed you were in a relationship with him to your juniors, you were subjected to an intense barrage of questions. This, however, paled in comparison to Hange’s reaction when Levi held your hand in front of their very eyes—they’d launched an interrogation so brutal you wonder why they didn’t enter law enforcement instead.

Soon after escaping Hange’s interrogation, you two both get another drink. “Everybody seems far too invested in this development than they should be,” you sigh, still frazzled. “How long do you reckon they’ve been shipping us?” 

A look of exasperation flits across Levi’s face. “I don’t know, and I hate that I even know what ‘shipping’ means in this context. Also, I saw Zeke give Erwin money when Hange was drilling us. Fuckers had some kind of bet running on us. Don’t even wanna know how long that had gone on for.”

You tip your head back and laugh. “Colour me unsurprised. That sounds very on-brand for Zeke and Erwin. You know, I think I saw Armin and Connie do the same. Guess Armin’s not as angelic as he looks.” 

“That’s been known, sweetheart. The kid’s a menace in disguise.” He kisses your cheek. “Just like you, actually, now that I think about it.”

Playfully, you swat him away. “Hey, who are you calling a menace?” 

Eventually, the two of you find yourselves catching some air outside, needing a moment to sober up and recalibrate after a whirlwind of social interaction. Levi’s hand returns to your waist and tugs you closer to him, seeking out your warmth. Melting into his touch, you do you best to commit the feeling of his embrace to memory. Soon, you’ll move away for a few months for your next contract, but you no longer fear it. Levi had sworn to you that this would work out, and there is nobody’s word you trust more than his.

Your love for each other has endured for years in the past. A handful more months is nothing.

Levi shifts slightly to get a better look at you, and cups your cheek. Meeting his gaze, your heart stops; his eyes are a breathtaking silver in the moonlight. Easily the most expressive feature he has, you could get lost in them for hours. 

Caught in his orbit, your face tilts towards his. 

This time, Levi meets you halfway.

Do not repost, modify or claim as your own work.

Masterlist

[ambriel-angstwitch]

Tim Drake Pride Thoughts Part 2

Link to Part 1 for those interested

I love Tim’s internal monologue and how it’s visualized on the page. The way he’s in the Robin costume even though he’s not actually and then it fades away.

Gosh his identity issues. His need to save people and self destructive tendencies. I love him.

Then Tim beats the crap out of the unsuspecting cultist and steals their stuff like a boss but it wasn’t shown we just cut to the cult after the reveal of the multiple “chaos gods”

I love that he says what would Batman do like it’s what would Jesus do. He even acronynmed it earlier. I used to have those bracelets.

Tim’s always trying to fill a role and that’s so fascinating. Robin was just a role that needed filling that he just happened to be able to do but now that there’s another person in that spot he’s trying to emulate Batman since he’s working alone and Batman’s his idol.

Oh also the fact that it was Bernard who was about to be sacrificed is interesting. Like he’s one of the most recent kidnappings so it’s interesting that they’d choose him

Also the fact that Tim is taking the Tim to judge them when his friend/crush is literally about to be sacrificed. Can’t stop being a hater I guess.

Love that Bernard is a fanboy just like Tim was.

Also Tim’s little gay panic there. He holds a boys hand and is immediately like “Is it supposed to be this warm?”

Love how Bernard immediately notices that Tim’s acting different it could be due to his Robin obsession but I also just think it’s cool how easily he understands him.

Bernard really just almost got sacrificed and pops up ready to fight. He’s probably been waiting to fight alongside Robin for a long time since he is a fanboy

Oh Timmy Batman isn’t alone and you don’t have to be either. You have the Batfam. I find it silly that this idea is coming from Mr. “Batman needs a robin” himself.

Though perhaps he doesn’t mean physically alone. Because the Batfam isn’t keen to share their problems. They tend to try to be islands. Each individually dealing with their issues and hurts rather than opening up and leaning on eachother. They’ve learned their poor emotional communication from the best.

Close enough welcome back Arthur Pendragon!

I have talked to friends and I have confirmed that I’m not the only one who thinks that first panel looks like Arthur (Come to think of it Tim looks kind of like Merlin too. Reincarnation au?)

Anyways I promise I had an actual thought regarding this interaction too. I love how Bernard is telling his crush to tell his crush that he wished they’d finished their date. Tim is just internalizing this and probably with that last word realizing what they could be.

Like I said Tim’s having realizations.

Also I just love this page layout. The different sizes and shapes to represent the chaotic-ness of a fight. Bernard being the focus of the biggest moment to visually show the lightbulb moment and Tim’s fixation of him. Both of them just being flashes of certain moments almost like we’re Tim or Bernard glancing at the other to see what their doing. Ahhh! I love it!

More Tim tech lingo! I love the focus on Tim being Techie and how that can cause him to think differently like he’s also just a computer with simple problems to fix. His realization that he’s different. That sure he didn’t realize he was Bi before but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t

I know that the whole Batfam not choosing being vigilantes is a thinly veiled metaphor for Tim’s being queer (which is kind of funny because I feel like that almost implies that the rest of the Batfam is queer or maybe it’s just the inherent queer subtext of hidden identities), but also I do think that the police has a point in them not really choosing the vigilante life I mean sure they theoretically could have not been vigilantes, but it’s just a fundamental part of who they are so even if the law tells them not to they’re not going to turn back now. I don’t think any of them at the beginning could have seen the pain and problems that they did and not tried to fix it.

Also the I want over Bernard and how the next page is going to be him.

And that’s the adorable conclusion. I love them! The way their figuring it out together! They’re both new to this. I love when couples don’t have to have it figured out. There’s no one right way to have a relationship

[featherandferns]

daylight - three

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 3 of the daylight series | read part 2 here

content warnings: alcohol

word count: 2k.

blurb: after finding a box of memories, you jump at the chance to go fishing with JJ. There, you open up a little more about your life in Vancouver.

You come downstairs at the sound of your dad calling your name. You find him standing by a stack of cardboard boxes, labelled with marker pen scribbles. 

“Can you take your stuff upstairs? That other delivery van finally arrived. Only a God damn month late,” your dad grumbles. 

“Sure thing,” you say.

It takes about ten minutes to lug your boxes upstairs. Closing your bedroom door, you begin to unpack. Most of them are full of clothes and accessories: caps and bags that you probably don’t even need, since you didn’t miss them in their lack. Another box has school things, in case you need your old notes for the next year of classes. The final box is full of miscellaneous items. Childhood memorabilia and wads of photographs and photo albums. Stupid dress-up gear from costume parties you and Mimsy had attended. You snap a selfie dressed in the get-up and send it to Mimsy.

A shoebox at the bottom has you taking pause. You take it out and set it on your bed, opening it. Your heart stops when you see what’s inside. 

How could you forget?

The box is piled high with various things, and at the top is a journal. It's frayed on the corners from excessive wear and tear. It was the journal you had kept when dating your ex boyfriend, Tyler. You take it out and promptly put it to the side like it’s coated in anthrax. There is absolutely no urge to flick through the pages and relive every moment of that tumultuous, tortuous affair. Below the journal is a t-shirt that belonged to him, then an impressive stack of photos. Happy photos. Smiling photos. Photos that are mostly of just the two of you, always in one or the other’s bedroom. Any photos taken in public have the two of you standing apart, acting as though you don’t know the feel of the other’s skin. There's a birthday present he gave you; a card; a ‘love letter’ that had made you so happy at the time, and only bitter in the aftermath. In fact, all of it made you bitter. All emotions led back to anger, and betrayal, and hurt. 

And yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to get rid of it. Even now, even still, in a different country, on a different coast: you feel the need to keep it. Treasure it like a cursed artefact. 

You’re happy to be taken out of your nightmarish thoughts by the ping of your phone. You pick it up, expecting a text from Mimsy, only to be surprised at finding one from JJ. 

I’m bored.

Smiling, glad for the distraction, you reply. 

Hi bored. 

Nerd. Srsly tho. I wanna do something. 

You turn your back on the box of memories.

Wanna go to the cinema?

Hello I’m poor??? U acting mad expensive rn

Laughing, you roll your eyes and offer something that you know JJ would never refuse.

Fishing then?

Dope. Pick u up in 5.

You kill the time waiting for JJ by tidying away the last few belongings. The items are returned to the shoe box and hidden under your bed following the philosophy out of sight, out of mind.

The honk of a car horn outside has you grabbing your backpack and heading for the door. JJ sits behind the steering wheel, staring off into the distance as he mindlessly taps along to the beat of the Kendrick song he’s playing. You whistle as you approach and he smiles when he spots you. 

“Where we fishing?”

“Found a good spot the other day,” JJ says, setting off once you’re in the passenger seat. “Caught some good bass and stuff. Spotted bass too.”

“Sounds good,” you hum. You kick your feet up onto the dashboard and pick at the peeling nail varnish on your fingertips. 

There’s no need to fill the quiet of the campervan as JJ drives. You eye him in your peripheral as he concentrates on the road.

His resting face sits with a set jaw and you suddenly imagine him to clench his jaw in his sleep. Lips somewhere between a frown and smile, his eyes are somewhat hooded. His neck is so attractive. You never thought necks could be attractive before, but seeing it tense and relax when he swallows and sighs, the way the skin teases over the Adam’s apple...it's tortuous. You can just picture stretching your hands around it, scratching against the skin of his jugular with your nails, marking his pretty flesh with love bites…

“What’s up?”

“Huh?”

“You lookin' at me. Something up?” JJ asks in all his innocence. 

Your dart your eyes to the road ahead. “Uh, no, no. I’m good.”

“A'right,” he says. Back to quiet. You don’t dare spare another glance at him for the rest of the ride. 

JJ parks up on a quiet country road. You both get out of the car and load up with fishing gear and snackage. JJ takes the cooler, biceps flexing, and the fishing rods. Lugging two collapsable chairs on either shoulder, you follow him with a box of bait and your backpack in hand. He guides you up a dirt path, overgrown with ivy and stinging nettles. A dilapidating jetty comes into view and you’re happy to see it empty. You both take to setting up shop. You weren’t lying to him, the first time that you met: you didn’t much care for fishing. But honestly, you’d take any excuse to spend time with JJ. It’s pathetic to admit to yourself that he could ask you to help him drain a sewer and you’d say yes without a second thought. 

Cracking open a beer, you offer it to JJ. 

“Thanks,” he smiles.

You open your own and the two of you cheers before taking a swig. It’s crisp and cooling in the muggy summer sun. He hands you a prepared fishing rod and you lean against the shaky railing beside him. He’s dug out his cap: the red one that he wore the first time you met. It shadows his face beautifully. You look out to the water and admire the calming view. A sea bird darts across the sky in the distance and you half want to grab for your camera. 

“You have good fishing in Vancouver?” he asks. 

“S’alright,” you reply. “My uncle loves fishing. He used to take me to this spot where you could catch trout as long as your leg.”

“Fuck off,” JJ laughs. 

“I’m serious! Swear to God, I thought this thing was gonna eat me!”

The two of you laugh. Your smile turns solemn at the memory. It hurts to think about your life in Vancouver. It feels like it was years ago, hazy like a lucid dream, distorted with nostalgia. Never before have you been more grateful for facetime or else you might forget Mimsy’s voice.

The day stretches on with the two of you passing drinks and chips and refreshing bait. The bucket starts to fill with some catches. Nothing impressive. Somehow you both end up sitting in your chairs. One hand remains on the rod, waiting for a bite and holding it steady. JJ is reclined in his chair somewhat precariously, feet up on the bannister, weighed down by heavy, black boots. 

“I don’t think I ever asked,” JJ says, catching your attention. He looks to you. “Why’d you move to Kildare anyway?”

“Well, you know the old saying,” you reply. “If at first your marriage fails: pick up and move country, eh?”

“Ah,” JJ replies, chuckling a little. “Is the marriage fixed, then?”

“Hell no,” you snort. “They fucking hate each other. Hardly talk. I think my dad just wanted an excuse to move back to North Carolina.”

“He from here?”

“Yeah, he was born here. I have a ton of family out here too. Well, not in Kildare but in Carolina.”

“Damn,” JJ mumbles. 

“It’s typical of my dad though. He's selfish like that. I mean, it's kind of messed up, don't you think? Dragging me away from my friends. From my life.” Your anger sparks suddenly. “You know, he didn’t even ask me if I wanted to leave. Because why the fuck would I want to leave? My entire life was there! Everything was there!”

JJ doesn’t speak. You catch yourself. Taking a shaky breath, you close your eyes, embarrassed for the outburst. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I just…I haven’t really talked about it to anyone yet.”

“You’re good,” JJ says. You look at him to find a small, reassuring smile. “I get it. Parents suck.”

You laugh, shaking your head. Leaning your head back, eyes slipping closed, you agree. “Yep. Parents suck.”

“I’m sorry, by the way,” JJ quietly adds. You open your eyes on him. “That you had to leave Vancouver.”

“Thanks,” you smile, eyes sad. “I know I’ll find a way to be happy here. But right now, I just miss home. I miss Mimsy.”

“Mimsy?”

“My best friend,” you clarify. “She’s the fucking best. Completely unhinged. Obsessed with true crime and conspiracy theories. Zero filter.”

“She sounds like fun.”

“She is. She’d get along with you guys great,” you say. “It’s hard though. The time difference and everything sucks. And we talk a lot now but I’m just worried about the future. Like, what if it gets too much, with the distance, and we get busy and drift apart. She’s been in my life since I was like six years old. I guess it freaks me out to think about her not being there, you know?”

JJ nods. “Guess that’s like me and John B. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten. I can’t imagine how it would feel being, like, six hours apart.”

“It sucks,” you chuckle. “And it’s not just that, either. I feel like I have unfinished things in Vancouver. It’s like I left before I could close the book, if that makes sense.”

“What kind of things?” JJ wonders. He shifts in his seat to face you better. Neither of you are paying much attention to fishing now. 

“Romance things,” you say with a joking roll of your eyes. 

JJ’s brows raise. “You leave a man behind or something?”

“Man is a generous word,” you snigger. “But yeah, sort of. We weren’t together anymore - I mean, maybe we weren’t together ever - but I never got all the answers I wanted…I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“Most things are,” JJ hums. You have to agree there. Nothing is ever clear-cut, black-and-white. At least not in your experience. “So, what’s the story? He cheat on you.”

“No. Least, I don’t think so,” you say. Shaking your head, you shoot him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I don’t think I really wanna talk about it.”

“You’re good,” JJ says for a second time that day. He looks down to watch his thumb stroking the condensation on the side of his can. Tactfully avoiding your request, he then asks, “where you, like, in love with him?”

“Yes. God knows why, but, yeah,” you reply with a self-deprecating laugh. “Have you ever been in love?”

JJ squints against the sun as he looks out to the horizon. “Dunno, really. I guess you’d know if you had been in love, right? Like you’d know what that feels like.”

“Yeah, you would,” you return. 

Looking at you, JJ only hesitates a moment before he asks, “what does it feel like? Being in love?”

Smiling wistfully, you reply honestly. “It’s the worst feeling in the world.”

read part four here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 |

[dark-fics-4-you]

Ahhh you knocked it out of the park!!! Thank you for doing my request (somno step bro Rafe). Would love if you did more or some virginity loss or something :) I feel like reader would catch Rafe being hard around her accidentally and get innocently curious

Saving the spicy stuff for a main chapters but I was inspired by this ask so here’s a lil blurb 😏

Rafe sat on the couch, scrolling through your instagram feed. Pic after pic of you at parties, past halloween costumes that were much too skimpy for you to be posting for just anyone to see, and photos of you posing with friends filled your profile.

He paused on a beach pic that you had posted a few weeks ago. Sarah was an excellent photographer, and you two frequently did little photoshoots together for each other.

You were in the sand, lying on your back on a blue beach towel, propped up by your elbows with your legs stretched out. The white bikini you were wearing barely covered anything, and Rafe could see your hardened nipples poking through the thin material.

His tongue darted between his lips, pants tightening as he grew hard. Rafe took a screenshot, saving the pic to his folder of his favorite pictures of you.

When he heard the door open behind him, he quickly pocketed his phone, glancing over his shoulder to see you bouncing in with a grin.

“Hey Rafey, I was looking for you!”

“C’mere bunny.” He gestured for you to come closer.

He wasn’t expecting you to climb into his lap for a hug.

You threw your legs over his lap, wrapping your arms around his chest and squeezing him in a hug.

Rafe tensed, trying to think about anything other than his adorable lil step sis sitting in his lap. Despite his efforts, he could feel himself getting harder as you squirmed.

“Do you think we could make a liquor run soon? I have that party with Sarah and John B and the other guys tonight!” You were clearly excited about the get together, a little too excited for Rafe’s comfort.

“You’re actually going to that?” Rafe asked in annoyance, trying to focus on something other than your bare thighs so close to him.

“I mean yeah, they’re my friends! I like hanging out with John B, Pope, Kie, and JJ!”

At the mention of JJ’s name, Rafe’s jaw tightened, jealously flashing through him.

He knew that JJ was just like all the other Pogues. No good trash from the Cut, who would steal and lie to get what they want. But Rafe’s qualms with JJ went beyond just Kook vs Pogue war.

Rafe knew that JJ liked you. It’s not like he had to be an genius to notice, he had seen JJ staring at you so many times that he had grown accustomed to hating the other blond even more than the rest of the Pogues.

JJ was nothing but bad news. The type of guy that slept around and broke new girl’s hearts weekly. The type of guy who would eat you alive if given the chance.

And the thought of JJ putting his hands on you, or even thinking about putting his hands on you, made Rafe want to explode with rage.

“You’ve been hanging around those pogues a lot recently,” Rafe spat out, jaw clenching.

“Ugh lighten up, Rafey. I’m here now, aren’t I?” You asked in annoyance as you rolled your eyes, shifting on his lap.

Rafe bit back a groan at the motion, passing it off as a cough.

“Damn Rafe, you gotta stop smoking, it’s already affecting your lungs,” you teased lightly, completely unaware of what he was hiding from you.

“Mm, hmm, you’re right bunny,” he said, distracted, mind somewhere much different than yours.

Suddenly, he remembered your plans for the night, and he was overwhelmed with the desire to keep you from going out, “you should stay in tonight, Y/N/N. We can watch a movie, one of your favorites. Plus I’ll make you all the drinks you want.”

“Mmm,” you considered his offer for a moment before making up your mind with an excited smile. “Okay! That sounds nice!”

When you shifted again, you noticed something poking at your ass.

“Rafeyy, do you have something in your pocket?”

“Oh uh, yeah, just my phone, Y/N/N,” Rafe lied.

And like the dumb, trusting little sister you were, you believed him.

[ramblingoak]

Peanuts and Cracker Jacks

Secondo x Female Reader

Still lusting over Secondo in the ghaseball uniform so here's a sort of sequel to Sliding Home (which you don't have to read first) and some amazing art by @tasty-ribz. Happy late birthday Ribz! Love you bby 💙

Warnings: baseball talk, smutty fun in a locker room, nsfw 18+ only, mdni, 1600k words, not really beta read forgive me

“Why am I doing this again?”

“I told you,”  You slapped his hands away when he reached up to adjust his ball cap.  “It’s good pr, gets people curious about the chur–”

“You misunderstand.  Why am I doing this again?”  Secondo stood up and turned to look himself over in the mirror.  “Couldn’t Terzo have taken a turn?”

“Well, I tried Terzo.  Had Copia take him out onto the abbey grounds for a game of catch and everything.”  When you were silent for a few moments Secondo turned your way with a raised eyebrow.  “He, uh, broke one of the windows of Primo’s main greenhouse.”

“Ah.  That’s why the old man was screaming the other day.”

“Yes.  So that was a whole…thing.  Imperator told me to send you again and well, here we are.”

You stood up with a flourish, your arms wide and a big smile on your face.  It was clear Secondo wasn’t buying it.  He clicked his tongue at you as he took a few steps closer.

“Imperator chose me, eh?  Not her golden boy?”

“Copia was uh, busy.  You know,”  When Secondo closed the distance between you even further you gulped and started backing up.  “Papa stuff.”

“Si, I do know of this ‘Papa stuff’.”  He grinned when your back hit the wall and you let out a little yelp.  “I think I know why I’m here and mio fratellino isn’t.”

“Terzo would’ve nailed someone in the head with a ball.”

“No, not him.  Copia.”

“Copia was busy, as I said.”

“Wrong.  Copia has been posting pictures of his rats on his private Instagram all morning.”

“Wait, he has a private Instagram?  No one told me thi–”  

Secondo’s finger on your lips shut you up.  You couldn’t help but hold your breath as the man shifted even closer, one arm bracketing you.  Like usual, having him so close overwhelmed your senses.  His demeanor, his words, even his smell was pulling you in like always.  You were absolutely enamored by him.

Especially with him in that uniform.

“I think, cara mia, that you asked Imperator to send me.  Specifically.”

“That doesn’t seem like something I would do.”

Secondo flashed you a grin that had your stomach doing a little somersault.  He leaned in close, his lips just barely flitting across your own before he moved them close to your ear,  “You wanted to see me in this costume again.”

“It’s not a costume, it’s a uniform.”  He snorted, the quick exhalation of breath on your ear making you jump.  “And so what if I did,”  Secondo pulled back far enough for you to see his face, an eyebrow once again raised as he regarded you.  “Want to see you in this again?  Is that so bad?”

“Non c’è male affatto.  It’s bene.  Good.  But,”  His lips were back on your ear, his body now pressing up against you.  Your hands moved to grasp at the uniform top, your grip tightening when his tongue ran along the shell of your ear.  “Next time just ask me, eh?”  

You stumbled a bit when he abruptly backed away, your grip on his top the only thing keeping your wobbly legs from collapsing under you.  There was a brisk knock at the door to the room and a voice called out that Secondo had ten minutes.  He covered your hands with his, the black leather warm and soft like it always was.  You suddenly felt like apologizing and opened your mouth to do so but he seemed to sense it.  He shushed you while bringing your hands to his mouth and pressing kisses to each of your palms before letting them go and walking towards the door.

“Papa, wait!”  He stopped and turned back towards you, his eyes darkening a bit when you began to slink his way.  You reached towards him and straightened his sleeves, smoothing your hands down his chest next until your fingers rested on the buckle of his belt.  “Mi dispiace, Papa.  Shall I make it up to you?”

“If it pleases you.”  His eyes focused on your mouth when you bit your bottom lip, your tongue immediately peeking out to soothe the sting.  “It would certainly please me.”

“Let’s make it interesting.  How about I reward you based on how you do out there?”

“How I do?”

“Yes,”  You ran your hands back up his chest to rest on his broad shoulders.  “Let’s say if you go out there and completely screw up you’ll only get a kiss.”

To demonstrate, and because you really wanted to kiss him, you pressed your lips to his, quickly pulling away when he tried to deepen it.

“Or?”

“Or, you could get the ball close to home plate and earn some kisses down here.”  Secondo groaned when your hand massaged his cock through his pants.  You were quick, not wanting to get him too riled up so he couldn’t even walk out there.  His growl when you let go of him had you smiling and reaching up to kiss the tip of his nose.  “Does that sound fair so far?”

“I suppose.”  When another brisk knock and shout for Papa came at the door again you winked and pulled away.  “What do I get if I throw it across the plate?  A strike, yes?”

“If you manage a strike, Papa, I’ll let you do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

You stared at each other for a handful of seconds, both of you breathing a little heavier.  Secondo was the first to break eye contact, swiftly turning and striding towards the door.  When he yanked it open he looked back your way, a small smirk playing at his lips.  The stadium assistant trying to usher him onto the field was making worried noises but Secondo ignored him.

“Be ready.”

With that he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.  You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding and sank down to sit on a bench.  The distant roar of the crowd had you smiling and you began to pick some lint off your top.

“Play ball.”

“I don’t fucking believe it.  Oh, oh right there.”

His thumb circled your clit again while two of his fingers curled inside of you, dragging along the spot that had you grinding down into them.  Your clothes were already soaked from the warm water of the shower, sticking to both of you.  Secondo’s cap was on the floor somewhere, along with his belt and your shoes.  You couldn’t bring yourself to care that you didn’t have a change of clothes to leave the stadium in.  All you cared about was that he kept doing that.

“What’s not to believe?”  He pulled back far enough so he could take one of your breasts in hand, thumbing at your nipple through your top.  “Didn’t think I could throw a strike?”

“No, no I did—oh, yes.  Yes, please.”

“Which is it, dolcezza?  No?”  He smiled, tilting his head as he watched you lose your mind.  “Or yes?”

“Yes, you bast–ah!”

Two fingers inside of you became three and he started to pump them in and out of you faster.  Even over the falling water you swore you could hear them move through your wetness.  In truth you had been wet all damn morning, the anticipation of seeing him in the baseball uniform again was too much.  Your head fell back against the wall with a thunk and you watched him through half-lidded eyes.  He looked equally a mess as you, the paint running down his face and disappearing down his neck.  When he caught you looking he grinned and you were glad the wall was there to help hold you up.

“I’ve been practicing.  Knowing you as I do I figured it was only a matter of time before you’d drag me to one of these stupid games again.”

“Baseball isn’t, ah fuck, stupid.”

“Demanding souvenirs and singing that stupid song about pretzels and Cracker Jacks.”

“It’s peanuts and Cracker Jacks you absolute snob–fuck, Papa please.  I can’t—”

“You can.  You can take this, my fingers fucking you.”  He moved in close, the water dripping off his head onto yours, streaking your hair and face in black and white.  “You’ll come on my fingers and then you’ll get on your knees and suck my cock.”  He was grinning when you looked up at him sharply.  “Whatever I wanted, remember?”

“Y-yes.”  

“Bene.  Molto bene.”  He gripped your chin and dragged a thumb across your lips.  “I want to come inside your pretty mouth before I come inside your cunt.”

His words coupled with his fingers knowing exactly what you needed had you coming almost immediately.  The orgasm rippled through your body and you clung to him as his fingers continued to move inside of you, slower and slower.  The water continued to beat down on you both as you took a few moments to collect yourself, eventually looking up to meet his eyes and to see him grinning once more.

“What is it?”

“On your knees, dolcezza.”  

You took a quick breath and then obediently dropped, wincing when your knees touched the tile.  When you glanced down to his belt quickly Secondo nodded and you went to work undoing it and opening his pants.  His thick cock sprang forward, eager for your mouth.  As your lips began to close around him he rested his hands on your head, stopping you from going any further.  Confused, you pulled away, looking back up at him.

“Papa?”

“Just trying to think of the phrase.  Ah,”  He bit at his bottom lip like he was trying to hold in a laugh.  You huffed, narrowing your eyes because you knew what he was going to say and you both loved and hated him for it.  “Play ball.”

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

[zahri-melitor]

What can you infer about the editorial meddling Young Justice went through?

Oh god. It’s like the old quote about pornography: you know it when you see it. Spend enough time reading comics and you can just tell.

Notable problems with the Young Justice 2019 run that smack of interference:

You can really tell there was external pressure to include Steph in the run and that she was not originally intended to join the team or appear any further than occasional cameos such as the flashbacks at the Hall of Justice as a link to Tim’s final scene in Tynion’s Tec run. Structurally her story makes no sense whatsoever for how to put a plot together. Steph’s not an original Young Justice character, the run already was supporting two new female characters plus a reboot of Amethyst introducing Amy to a new generation, even before we look at the crossovers from other titles in the imprint. The fact they ended up throwing in a single issue entirely about 'what Steph has been up to and her fight against Cluemaster' in the last section of the run makes it even worse, as that was valuable page time wasted pandering that could and should have been used to give Jinny Hex or Keli Quintela more development.

The entire ‘Drake’ situation, which for a costume change had very little build up, was under-designed, and then disappeared with Tim back in the Robin costume between two panels. It was a test balloon from someone that was comprehensively shot down by some mix of the fandom and editorial, and I remain convinced that DC is gunshy about a new costume and identity for Tim all the way up to the present day because of how badly it was handled.

It was being used as the anchor for Wonder Comics, leading to the required mega crossover (that also spilled over into Bendis’ Action Comics to give it some more space), putting even more pressure on the title to be telling a big crossover story when it was still trying to re-establish “your favourites are back” and suggesting potentially expanding the Young Justice lineup out to around thirteen characters, a massively oversized team that the title was not set up to handle.

Lost in the Multiverse was where the story started to get bogged down by being pulled in too many directions by expectations.

It’s also super telling that the last third of the book got turned over to essentially doing one-shot character pieces about the Core Four, the last defence of a run that can see cancellation coming and doesn’t feel confident launching a new story arc they don’t expect to get to finish. Some of this stuff was clearly background character work they would have preferred to have dripped out over a longer run.

Also I know I’m repeating myself, but having the Tim piece focus on Steph mostly, in the frame of Tim and Steph’s relationship? That’s not where I’d be spending my time when looking at Tim Drake in the focus of Young Justice. How he’s coping with his returned memories of having two or three different lives now? Thinking about what ‘Tell Conner you’re sorry’ means? Discussion about his feelings in terms of moving on from being Robin or not? Nah let’s talk about Steph's problems with her dad instead. That’s not a natural fit compared to what everyone else got and does not follow from any of the preceding story.

Still ropeable that the whole set of storylines about regained memories and alternate timelines doesn’t get to intersect with Lois Lane (which spoilers but also is committed to storytelling about ‘people have memories of other places bleeding through’ prior to the full Infinite Frontier retcon) or explore how those memories change things for Tim, Bart or Cassie (Kon at least does get a story about reconnecting in Action).

And that’s just off the top of my head, ignoring any of the more subtle signs.

I love Young Justice 2019. It is a run that adores Bart, Kon, Cassie and Tim (and particularly Bart. I cannot explain to you how much this story adores Bart if you’ve never read it) and the opening 6 issues make me feel warm and fuzzy every time I read them in terms of how cleverly it works to explain how we get everything back. There are clever subtle moments in the text that give a lot more depth to the story that are implied rather than spelled out: how Cassie suddenly remembers Bart when Bart comes near her, suggesting that her returned memories are a Speed Force side effect from being a lightning rod to Bart; Cassie and Tim sense Kon using TTK and recognise it as familiar, something the new characters cannot; the fakeout in the art where when Tim’s memories are restored, he sees Cissie in his memories, but unless you know the exact YJ98 page being referenced you’d think it was Steph; etc.

But gosh it would have been so much better if it had not been required to devote so much page time to crossovers and to pandering to fans, among other elements.

[railingsofsorrow]

hiiiiii!!!! i saw your requests were open and i’m so excited i love your writing so much!! i was wondering if you would be willing to do a coffee shop au of spencer x barista!reader? i feel like it would be very fluffy :) <3

a healthy caffeine addiction

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: spencer finds a new coffee shop near work and he may be going there not just for the coffee...

pairing: s.reid x gn!barista!reader

w.c: 3K

warnings/content: a lot of flirting; mentions of case related stuff but you blink and you miss it; fluff fluff!! (you asked for it); swearing.

A/N: hi! I used gender neutral pronouns because you didn't specify so I thought it would fit best. the coffee shop is called “enchanted brewing” just do you don't get confused. one more thing! I mixed two of his best eras, glasses + long hair just because I was feeling a little silly. thank you for the request <3

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

[requested] ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Oh, look, it's boy genius again.” You muse upon seeing a certain long-haired FBI agent next on the line. He's wearing a purple tie today which checks out your theory that it's his favorite color because he's always wearing something purple. It would be funny if it was an unconscious choice. “What's your order today, Dr. Reid? Maybe some coffee with your sugar?” You ask as if you hadn't seen him earlier in the day and had repeated the same thing.

You've met Spencer Reid when he walked in one day as the coffee shop you work in was still closed. He hadn't seen the closed sign. After spending five minutes straight apologizing, you delivered him his coffee order promising he wasn't bothering you. Especially if he was a cute guy with glasses. But you didn't say that last thing out loud, of course.

He's been coming to Enchanted Brewing for two weeks now. You have his order memorized from each early morning that he strides in through the entrance, his satchel hanging from his right shoulder as his bright honey-brown eyes scan through the menu on the wall. He always did that in spite of ordering the same thing from the first day.

Your timeline is slightly offbeat today. Your favorite costumer usually comes in on his way to work, once a day. Except that today he showed up twice. You're not complaining, you're currently trying to hide how happy you are that he appeared right on time for your lunch break.

“I want something different,” he says, adjusting his glasses as he looks at you with a timid smile. “Surprise me?”

“Oh.” You quickly recovered — did you? — from the spell he had you in and moved to prepare his drink. “I'll definitely surprise you, boy genius.” You already had one in mind. Your boss shots you a glare from the other side of the counter where he's delivering an order for a regular. He had reminded you of your lunch break an hour ago but you ended up attending clients and time passed by. You mouthed that it was your last one before lunch and he rolled his eyes with a knowing smile.

You take Spencer to a table outside. The day was good enough to not worry about a storm interrupting your afternoon coffee. Not yet, at least.

“So.” You utter after taking a bite of your sandwich. Spencer is sipping on the surprise he asked for and you are no profiler but your guess is that he liked it. “Aproved?”

“One hundred percent approved. What is this?” He makes a sound of satisfaction as he drinks it again. A smug grin reaches your face. “It's so good.”

You hum, “It is. From how much you like your sweets, I thought you'd like this one. Though, it barely tastes like coffee.”

Spencer silently agrees with you. “What's it called? I can taste caramel.”

“It's a caramel macchiato,” you reply, sipping your watermelon juice. “Caramel is all you can taste, boy genius.” You laugh at the way his cheeks turn pink at your nickname. Ever since he told you about his PhD's and his age. “To what do I own the pleasure of seeing you twice in a day?”

He takes his time putting the cup on the table, fingertips grazing the sides in half circles. When he meet your gaze, you were already staring, but you have the decency to look away, feeling your cheeks heat up. Thank god you were done eating or else you'd be blushing and attempting to swallow your food. Not a good view.

“Um, I... I didn't have a case today and I finished paperwork early so I thought I'd come, um.” He stammers, straightening his posture and exhaling. The middle of his forehead creased a bit and you find it incredibly endearing seeing him trying to figure out the words.

“...you were craving caffeine so you came to the best place near your work?” you complete his sentence with a playfully smirk dancing across your lips.

“Yes!” Spencer exclaims, clearing his throat realising his voice had failed. He offers you a sheepish smile, to which you respond with a grin of your own. “Yes, and... well.”

“It's okay,” you tap your fingers against the hard wood. “You can admit that I make the best coffee.” The convinced stance you had made him chuckle, eyes traveling over your frame discreetly. He could only hope he was being discreet.

“I wanted to see you.” He admits. “And for the coffee, of course.”

Sometimes you had the impression that he did know the effect he had on you, either that or he just didn't want to see it.

“Of course.” You nod as if it was obvious. “Sure.” He wanted to see me? Me?

He pulls his glasses up again, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. He was about to say something when he jumped on his seat, groaning as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“I have to go,” he says, disappointment lacing through his tone. You brush off his apologetic expression.

“That's completely understandable. Duty calls.” Both of you stand up. You still had half an hour left of your lunch, you guess you would have to resort to play your mobile game instead of flirting with a handsome FBI agent. “I'll see you tomorrow?”

“Hopefully,” Spencer picks up his work bag and the coffee cup you thought he had already finished. The corners of his lips raise a bit when he catches the boy genius written in a messy handwriting on the cup. “It's not a local case...”

“Oh,” you try to hide your lack of joy. “Alright. Be careful then.” Spencer nods, giving you a tight-lipped smile. “And don't betray me for another barista, boy genius.” That got you one of his short laughs that made his eyes crinkle in the edges.

“Never.”

──────────────

Spencer was back three days later. The case was a hard one, one of those were the unsub decided to not make their lives easier and kept moving across state lines to hide. He was keeping a victim hostage in the trunk of his car and thankfully, they were able to save her in time. Everybody was granted a day-off to get some rest.

It's not like Spencer was married to his work, in fact, he could enjoy a little alone time in the comfort of his home with a book and some coffee to accompany his quiet reading.

But that's the problem.

Routines are hard to create and they are hard to let go of. Ever heard the saying “old habits die hard”?

Ivan Pavlov researched about classical conditioning. According to him, you have a stimulus and a response in a given situation. It is likely that you'll keep repeating an action if it proves to be beneficial to you. If you like doing it, you'll barely notice it became an habit.

He's been visiting your coffee shop almost every day for the past weeks and that is an habit he's gotten quite comfortable with.

Therefore, in order to not disturb his routine that is very very important to him — honestly? Spencer can't handle changes — he drives down to Enchanted Brewing. The soft jingle of the bell alerted of his entrance.

Spencer gets in line. There's seven people in front of him, maybe because it's lunch hour and all of them are rushing to get their orders. Spencer waits. He still hasn't heard any flirting remarks or winks sent his way and he's not sure if you are not behind the counter today or if his lenses are just really blurried that he can't see your pretty face.

“Afternoon, sir. What would you like to order today?”

You are definitely not behind the counter and he's slightly confused before listing off his order. The clerk notes it down, then he stops midway, studying Spencer with narrowed eyes.

“You're boy genius?”

Spencer blinks, startled. He opens and closes his mouth like a fish and really, what is that question? How is he even supposed to answer that? You call him that, so is that a yes? Is he supposed to say yes—

“Sorry,” the guy says, shaking his head with a laugh, “they told me about you.”

“Oh.” Spencer doesn't know what to say, thankfully, he doesn't have to because he carries on.

“You two have kind of a system going on, right?”

“A- a system?”

The clerk's polite smile widened into a smirk. “Well, yes.” He says slowly. “You order the same thing and they make you an entire difference drink, isn't that it? They explained it and that's how I got it.”

“Uh, yes. I think so. But you don't have to—”

Your coworker waves him off, “I was just making sure you were the guy, really. They left a special order for you in case you appeared while they were still sick.” Spencer's concern is visible through his face. “Sore throat, I asked them to stay at home this week. You know, they don't care about day-offs so I forced it upon them to have it either way since they're sick. Really stubborn, that one. I'm Tim, by the way."

“Spencer.” He gave a little wave while introducing himself and was quick to add. “Are they okay?”

Tim turned to look at him in the middle of the beverage making. He nodded. “Yes, they'll be back in a day or two. Nothing serious.”

Spencer lets out a sigh in relief, leaning against the counter to wait for this order to be ready. He hopes you get better soon and that you were taking proper care of yourself. If he knew, he would have brought some jell-o and mint tea, they are great remedies to soothe a sore throat. After he paid for his surprise drink, he sat down on a table outside, there wasn't a lot of people and he enjoyed his alone time while mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

Maybe if he had gotten your number, he could ask how you were. But he didn't because Spencer doesn't think. He doesn't have game as Derek says, whatever that means. It's not his fault that he can't think straight around pretty people, is it? He can't help it!

He left the café that day with another great drink to add to his list and his mind set on one thing: he's going to ask for your phone number next time he sees you.

──────────────

Every person in the whole freaking world decided to appear at Enchanted Brewing today. Nothing wrong with people. You love people, really!

But your back is aching and your hand is cramping from how much you used the hand mixer. God, you needed to lay down for a month and wake up maybe never.

A costumer just left and you finally turn the sign to closed. Thank god. You're finishing cleaning up the tables when you notice the silence. Being around people all day long can be a little exhausting, especially if you have to yell a name in order for someone to pick their order. Your recently recovered sore throat does not appreciate that.

You're alone tonight. Tim left early to run some errands and you're in charge of closing. You don't mind, it's actually peaceful to close the shop and make your way home. You don't live far and the streets aren't too busy nor totally empty.

Boy genius didn't show up again.

You know his job is demanding, he's occupied being a hero and using his brain to solve difficult cases and catch bad guys. You feel bad complaining about your work, knowing what he does. He must get exhausted daily.

You miss him. And it's weird, you're not one to get attached easily. To be able to call Tim your friend took about half a year, you just don't trust people fast. Spencer just feels different. He makes you feel comfortable, despite not having the experience of hanging out with him outside of your work, he's that kind of person that has a safe ambience all over him. You could be wrong, you're aware of that, you don't really know the guy. He's a regular, he loves your surprise coffees, he's got a cute smile and an awkwardness that is endearing. You don't know more than that, but you'd really like to.

After placing your uniform in your assigned locker, you check one more time to see if everything is in place before leaving.

The doorbell scares the shit out of you and you grab the first thing you see to defend yourself, which is your phone.

It's closed. You turned the sign. The lights are off. Who the fuck is entering a coffee shop when all of the lights are off?!

“Uh, what... Why are you threatening to throw your phone at me?”

And there it is, the man you cannot stop thinking about materialising in front of you. Not a burglar.

Your shoulders slump in relief and you lower your phone back to the counter. “Fuck, genius. Don't do that. Why do you always ignore the closed sign?”

“Sorry,” he responded, bashfully, realising how the situation came out. “I saw you were inside and I just came in, didn't thought it through.”

“Mm. You scared the shit out of me.” A soft smile formed on your lips and it soon became a wide grin. “God, you're so...”

“Annoying?” he offers, grimacing as he buries his hand on his overcoat. Both his cheeks and the tip of his nose are pink, reminding you of how cold it is outside. “Sorry, I'll just— I'll leave you be.” The regret on his features is what puts you out of your dazed stare.

You sprint over to the door, blocking his exit. “I didn't say that.” You let out with bated breath. He halts right in front of you, big doe eyes staring down at you in surprise and you're beaming at him again. “You could never be annoying, boy genius. I was about to say amazing, actually.”

Morgan and Penelope are two people that keep making his life miserable by the amount of nicknames they make up for him. But this one? This one he doesn't complain at all. Boy genius. You could call him that every day and he would never dare be annoyed by it. The reason is because he loves your voice — which he realised it's a bit hoarse right now — but that's besides the point.

That is a nickname he missed dearly.

Were they about to call me amazing?

“I have a confession to make.” Emily is one hundred percent right when she said his IQ is slashed to 60 while around pretty people, because now that he's seen you he can't seem to remember what he came here for. “I betrayed you.”

You raise a brow, surveying him with amusement. “Oh?”

“Yes. I, I ordered a caramel macchiato on a cafeteria in Fairbanks.” He elaborated, lifting his hand to brush his hair behind his ear. You wanted to find out if it was as soft as it looked. “It wasn't good. I don't know, it wasn't the way you made so I didn't— I didn't though it was good.”

Your chest swells for a reason you're not sure.

“What I'm trying to say is that... Your coffee is better. No. It's not actually that—”

“Breathe. You're turning red like a tomato.”

That made him impossibly redder. He pushed his glasses up his nose, swallowing hard.

“Spencer,” you say, dropping your flirty facade in fear of him combusting in front of you. You nudge your finger against his hand, timidly. “I won't bite. You can talk to me.”

“Okay.” He croaks out, playing with your fingertips. And without looking directly at you, he lets out a sigh to muster some courage and says, “I like you.” He manages to say, pretending as if the way you said his name didn't affect him that much. You're smiling at him and suddenly he's fourteen again with butterflies in his stomach because his first crush just greeted him in class.

“I like you too,” you confess in a whisper. You're too close yet so far.

Spencer shakes his head, lifting his gaze to yours since he was staring at your hands. “Not like that. Not in a I like-your-coffee-and-your-flirting kind of way.”

You fear you're misunderstanding him and you don't want to make a fool out of yourself, so you remain quiet, getting lost in the twinkle in his brown eyes provided by the street lamp outside.

“I like you in a... I-want-to-spend-more-time-with-you way.” Finally, he says it. Could he have explained it better? Yes. Is he able to do it? Not with you looking at him like that. “I-Mm, I mean, I love your company and spending time here but I would like to take you on a date.” You were supposed to ask for her number first! What are you doing, you idiot?! “If you want to, of course.”

You can't hold back the giant grin taking over your features. “Boy genius,” you drawl out, doing what you've been fantasizing from the first moment you've seen him: touch his hair. You pull a stubborn strand behind his ear and from the way he almost flutters his eyes shut and leans into your touch, you assume he likes it. “When I said that I liked you, I didn't mean as a favourite-cute-costumer-of-the-month kind of way. But in an I-think-he's-cute way.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You laugh. “Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. Preferably, somewhere where we don't drink coffee.”

The crinkles around his eyes show up as he chuckles, nodding. “Okay, yeah, we can definitely do that.”

“Cool.” And you can't stop smiling like an idiot.

Spencer not only got the number but a date with the cute barista. He'd say that's very cool.

[pixiesfz]

chookas k.c

plot: kerstins girlfriend is the main character in a local musical in Manchester and she goes to watch.

warnings: none, maybe just my inner theatre kid coming out a bit too much

Kirsten remembers driving you to the audition “so what even is a musical?” She asked and you turned your head towards her “please tell me you know what a musical is?” You gasped and she shrugged

“Well it’s just a show performance where there’s singing and dancing” you explained and she nodded “so what’s heathers about than?” She asked inquisitively and you smiled “it’s about this girl who hates school and just wants to get out of there but everyone is a literal dickhead and if she befriends the heathers than-“ you stopped once you saw the triumphant smile on your girlfriends face.

“Are you trying to take my mind off of the audition?”

She turned her head to you “is it working?”

You huffed, twirling your thumbs together “I don’t want to stuff up the audition” you stressed “you’re an amazing singer” Kerstin said, shutting you down.

A cool breeze went by as Kirsten let her hand travel from on top of your thigh more in and closer up.

“Does this distract you?”

“It’s definitely taking my mind elsewhere”.

——————————————————————————

Then you had to tell her about one of your scenes after you got the role.

You both laid on the couch, some of her teammates had come over and congratulated you on your lead role, especially Mary as she said she enjoyed watching theatre back in Australia.

Before she had left she had hummed the tune to your characters biggest song and you it had finally dawned on you that Kerstin didn’t know what Veronica and JD do.

“so you know how I play Veronica?” You started as you scratched your girlfriends back whilst cuddling “yes and I’m so incredibly proud of you” she hummed, pecking you neck and smiling against you “well there’s a scene where Veronica and her love interest JD have to you know like” you trailed as you thought she would get the hint but Kerstins brows just furrowed.

“I have to makeout with a guy on stage” you deadpanned and Kerstin sat up straight.

“No”

“Kerstin!” You laughed “I’m gay, he’s most likely gay and it’s a stage kiss” you explained but the girl still did not get it.

“Think of it when your coach tells you to tackle another player on the field, it’s not personal”

“That means my foot hits theirs not my mouth!”

You sat down in defeat “I also might have to straddle him as I take clothes off” you muttered quickly but the Dutch had heard it.

“I thought theatre was fun, not a strip show for viewers to see my girlfriend”.

Her face was red as she thought about it more, she would never dare tell you that you couldn’t do the show, she knew how much you loved performing and this show had aligned with your both busy time lines.

“I can practice on you if you want?” You offered and Kerstin shook her head with a laugh.

——————————————————————————

It was closing night of the show now and Kerstin decided on bringing some of the girls from her Man City team, Mary jumping at the start when she offered tickets.

You smiled when you saw the ‘chooka’s’ message on your phone from the dutchie, she remembered every show even on the Sunday matinees when she should be getting ready for the game.

The show had been a hit so far and some Man City fans had even come to watch when they found out that their favourite players girlfriend was the lead.

Sure they might’ve came in hopes to see Kerstin but they still clapped and applauded you when you came out for your bow which you appreciated.

“Have you seen dead girl walking?” Mary asked as they all sat down “I don’t like to talk about that one” Kerstin quickly said as the curtains raised, revealing you in your opening costume.

“September 1st 1989, Dear diary…”

When the first act had finished and there was intermission you let yourself go on your phone to many notifications, some from the girls tagging you on their story and others following you from their tags.

Walking back on you took a deep breath “Is your girlfriend here?” The actor who played JD asked and you nodded “cool my boyfriends here too, we just started dating but I’m a little nervous for it”

You smiled as you patted him on the back for good luck.

Kerstin now owes you $10 dollars.

When bows were on you were slightly emotional to leave the cast behind but as long as Kerstin stayed at Manchester you promised the company you would do the next years musical which they were very happy to hear.

But your smile was contagious as did your last bow, cheers erupted and you saw a clump of girls in the middle all standing up which you could only assume where your friends.

You didn’t bother getting changed to see your friends , neither do half of the cast because you usually took a while to get ready.

But as you walked out and saw a tall Jill waving her hands around like crazy to get your attention you laughed.

You felt a tap on your arm and turned around to see an about 13 year old girl next to you “hi” you greeted and she smiled “I’m sorry but can I get a photo?, I loved you as Veronica, you sounded just like Barrett” she complimented and you smiled “of course” you beamed and bent down to get into her selfie.

When you said goodbye, you almost ran into your girlfriend’s arms who was waiting for you.

“You were amazing as always lieverd”

You smiled and pecked her cheek “thankyou for coming whenever you could”

“Where’s our hugs at?” A strong Aussie accent called out as Alanna Kennedy hooked her arms around the other man city girls who had decided to come and support you.

You broke out in a strong grin “Thankyou so much guys!” You cheered and gave them all individual hugs.

“Alright hands off her, I haven’t had her too myself for far too long”.

[juiles]

All to well

Plot: idk. have fun!

Type: angst and fluff

Warnings: i am in no way saying that this is how all autistic people are!! This fic is based off my PERSONAL experience with autism and sensory overload. Please remember this as you read!!

Masterlist here!

Request here!

————————————————————————-

Being autistic has drawbacks for a normal person, but for an actress in Marvel movies, it was tough. I’m proud of who I am but I didn’t want the pitying looks, the comments or being stuck as only getting the “autistic” role so for my own sake, I’m not super open about it.

My parents are ashamed of it so they never told anyone and I was forced to mask anytime I was around anyone. Not even Scar knew, and she was my best friend, almost a mother figure to me. I didn’t want her to think any different of me. She’s known me since i was 7 and played her on screen adopted daughter in Iron Man 2.

We’re filming Endgame right now. I’m on my way to set with Scarlett. Today has been a rough day for me so far as my parents woke me up by screaming at me which then caused me to struggle in keeping my mask up. Scar picked me up and I’m already exhausted, I’ve caught myself stimming a few times and quickly stopped it.

When we pulled into the parking lot, i grabbed my bag and walked with her through set to our trailers where we left our stuff and we’re immediately shuffled to makeup and costumes.

“Oh shit…” I mutter staring at the costume in Erica’s hand. “I didn’t realize it was a fight scene today…”

“Babe.” Erica, my assistant and on set guardian says. She’s known about me since the first day which was when i was 7. “You’ve known about this for a week. Are you okay?”

“I’m super over stimulated right now…” I murmur tapping my leg in sets of 7, a common stim for me.

“Let’s do hair and makeup first okay? Keep you out of the costume until the last second okay?” I nod and the two of us move to hair and makeup where Scarlett is getting her hair done.

“Hey, where’s your costume kid?” She asks looking over at me.

“I uh-“ I glance at Erica who steps in for me quickly.

“It had a small tear in it so it’s getting fixed quickly.” Scarlet merely hums in response and I sit. Getting my wig on and makeup done is awful, having everyone touching me and all their voices so close to me ears. I feel a soft hand on my cheek and peek my eyes open to see Scar staring at me in concern.

“Stop grinding your jaw babe…” I release my jaw, not even realizing i had been doing it. “You okay love? You disappeared for a bit there.” I respond with a hum, my voice disappearing from within. “Let’s get your costume on and to set okay?”

I look around quickly and don’t see Erica, Scarlet must see the panic as she quickly says. “She got called away in an emergency. I’m going to be your guardian today.” I nod, feeling the panic bubble up in my chest, but give her a soft smile.

The two of us make our way to my trailer and she helps me quickly slip into the suit. I immediately want to rip it off as it’s skin tight and an uncomfortable material. It feels like it’s digging into my skin and pulling it away as if it’s velcro and my skin is the other side. I take a deep breath and come out to see Scar in costume waiting. “Ready?” I nod and we head to set where I realize it’s a busy day, all original 6 avengers, Lizzie, both Paul’s, Gwen and Cobie are all there. I internally groan as immediately, the girls are coming over to me and Scar talking a mile a minute. I stand next to Scarlett silently until Lizzie turns to me. “Hey kiddo. Ready to fight? We have to fly today.” My eyes widen for a moment before i force a smile and nod at the fake red head in front of me.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” This makes everyone around us laugh but it makes me feel awful. I have no voice, it comes and goes, when it’s gone, my parents ridicule me, I get hit. I look down as i feel my tears well up in my eyes and blink rapidly trying to will them away. I thank god silently when Joe calls us to places which means i get away from the now very suddenly concerned looking Scarlett, Lizzie and Cobie. I’m stuck with Renner as I get rigged up, the feeling of being sick suddenly appearing as more people touch me.

I feel the lump in my throat tighten and the feeling of the harness wrapped around me suddenly makes me feel like it’s constricting my breathing and everyone around me disappeared as my hands flung to the harness, in my panic my hands struggled with the buckle which just made me more infuriated and grunts started coming out as my tears blurred my vision.

I feel a set of hands on mine holding them down, i scream and rip mine away and start scratching at my throat trying to rip it open to get a breath. My eyes started blacking out and the last thing i see is Scarlett’s panicked face as she tries to grab at my hands before it all goes black.

Scarlett’s POV

I know something is off with y/n. Not off but just that she was different. I have had a feeling it was autism for a while now, today proved that to me.

She was silent the whole car ride to set, normally she’d be singing along the radio but she wouldn’t even let me turn it on today. As soon as we got to set she locked herself in her trailer without a word, the next time i saw her, she looked panicked and while she was getting her hair and makeup done she disappeared fully before i brought her back. She has days where she goes mute, she just calls them her bad days, they usually happen on days she has arguments with her parents but normally she can still communicate to me in different ways but today she was completely gone. It got worse as soon as she realized Erica was gone. Walking on to set, she tended up and i saw her tapping her thigh every once in a while. The comment that Lizzie made would normally make her laugh, her reaction today was off.

I watched her from the corner of my eye but had to look away for a second before i heard Renner.

“Y/N!! What are you doing?! You’re going to hurt yourself!” I whip my head around and my heart sinks as i see y/n struggling with her harness, her hands are shaking violently, tears streaming down her face, her eyes are glazed over. I bolt over and grab her hands gently.

“Y/n baby, stop. You’ve got to stop my love.” She rips her hands out of mine and starts clawing at her throat which is when i notice she’s not breathing properly. She’s barely able to get a small breath. Instincts kick in for me and i turn to the cast and crew crowding her. “Give her space. Now. I need someone to set up a dark room with minimal sound and her clothes she was wearing this morning as well as the blanket from my trailer. A cold cloth and her wig taken off.” I turn around as she starts to collapse, i grab her arm and quickly wrap an arm around her waist. “Now!”

It’s a bit of a blur after that honestly, the next thing i know, im alone with her in the green room after everything is unplugged and blankets are draped over the windows. Her wig is already off and someone hands me my blanket and her clothes before silently leaving. I help her unconscious body out of the suit and into her clothes before draping my weighted blanket over her body. I sit back and stare at her, not touching her at all but close enough if she needs me.

It felt like hours but looking at my watch, it shows it’s only been 20 minutes when she finally wakes up.

My heart is beating what feels like a million mile a minute with panic as i watch her blue eyes flutter open before she looks around the room for a moment. Her hand comes out of the blanket and she starts tapping her thigh again, her head nodding along to each tap. She squeezes her eyes shut and i can hear her voice mumbling. “I’m safe. I’m here. I’m y/n.” Over and over again, i quietly cough to get her attention and she quickly sits up and her head whips up to look at me with wide eyes, both hands start scratching at the other wrist. “Oh my god…”

“Baby, you are safe. It’s just me.”

“No… no… no no no no no no no no.” She started tugging her hair and rocking slightly. “They’re going to kill me… you aren’t supposed to know…”

I quickly scoot over and grab her hands before pulling her into my chest, she tenses for a moment before melting into my arms. “I can’t hide it anymore Scar…”

“I know baby… I know.” I mutter into her hair swaying us back and forth slightly.

“I’m autistic…”

“Oh baby i know…” She freezes and looks at me with wide eyes. I can ready the fear in her blue eyes. “You hide it really really well but I’m basically your mom my love. I had suspicions but didn’t want to push you into telling me. Today was too much.” She nods burying herself back into me. “I need you to know that I will always listen to you. That if you ever feel like that again, you can tell me and i’ll get you out of it. Baby seeing you pass out was terrifying. I need you to know that if you’re that overwhelmed, that you do not have to do all that.”

“But… my parents don’t want everyone knowing… they’re all gonna know now…” She mumbles into me, my heart cracks.

“Baby being autistic is not a bad thing. It makes you even more amazing. It’s not something to be ashamed of at all. You are allowed to be who you are. To stim when your emotions are too high. To have bad days. I am here to show you that.” I say looking her directly into her eyes. “I’m here to support you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she nodded quickly. She sat up and started tapping her thigh as she stared at me. “This is my favourite stim, it’s really subtle but it calms me down… i count the most important people in my life.” She then looks down at her hand as she taps each finger. “Scarlett.” Tap. “Lizzie.” Tap. “Renner.” Tap. “Gwen.” Tap. “Cobie.” Tap. “Rob.” Tap. “Rosie.” Tap. “It reminds me that you guys would love me, no matter how broken or weird i am because i know how much you care.” She looked up at me through her eyelashes. “Another one is tapping here.” She taps her chest right above her heart twice. “Right here.” She does the tap to each word. “This is where you sit in my body. I usually only do this one when I’m not wearing my necklace. Playing with that is the stim i can do out in public.” I pulled her into my arms again as I cried.

“Oh baby…”

“You’ve always been my safe space Scar…”

“And i will be your safe space for the rest of eternity.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes before she pulls away with a smile. “Thank you. For learning how to help me.”

“You are more than welcome my love. Let’s go home and have a calm day okay?” She nods before standing up, pulling my weighted blanket over herself. I stand and wrapping my arms around her waist, the two of us make our way out of the room to find Lizzie standing not too far away, crying into Gwyneths arms. Y/n instantly runs over to her and wraps her arms around the crying woman. Lizzie jumps before she turns and sees who it is and wraps the girl into her arms.

“I’m so sorry bug. I shouldn’t have made that comment. I know how bad your parents are.” Y/n shakes her head pulling back and squeezes Lizzie’s hands. “Liz that wasn’t what caused that.” She takes a glance back at me before taking a deep breath and looks back at Lizzie. “I’m autistic and I was overstimulated and everything was just too much. I won’t lie, the comment did hurt a little but i know you didn’t say it in a mean way. You didn’t hurt me, memories of my parents saying stuff hurt me. But not you.” Lizzie’s eyes widen and she glances at me before she nods breathing to calm herself down. “If you ever need to talk or are struggling you can talk to me bug.”

Y/n nods with a small smile. “I know Liz.”

“Hey. Me too.” We all turn our head to see Gwyneth with a pout on her face. “You scared the shit out of me kiddo. Never do that again. Understand?” She pulls y/n’s laughing form into her arms.

“I understand mother Paltrow.” She says making us all chuckle.

Y/n pulls away and biting her cheek looks at me. “I- i uh- I’m not ready to face everyone else yet…”

“They already left bug. It’s just us four left.” Lizzie said smoothing the crazy hair down on y/n’s head. “I couldn’t leave worried i hurt you and Gwyn couldn’t leave me alone but everyone else left to give you privacy. Scarlett went full mama bear mode and screamed at some people for trying to push her into anything. It was great.” Y/n chuckled, which brings a grin to my face.

“Of course you did. But i wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

“I love you too baby.” I say kissing her head softly.

[aquagirl1978]

Little Lion Man

Pairing: Leon Dompteur x Reader

Prompt: Day 1 (Love), Day 4 (Brothers) and Day 6 (Dance) for Leon Dompteur Sequel Route Release event (hosted by me)

Word count: 1330

Tags: Fluff (with a brief appearance from Chevalier, Jin and Leon's young son)

A/N: This fic was inspired by Leon's recent Halloween gacha card in JP as well as @ikeprinces-stuff artwork with an alternate Leon costume that can be seen HERE. Jin and Chevalier's gacha cards are also referenced throughout the fic.

“You are going to be the cutest little lion cub at tonight’s party!” you squealed as you adjusted the lion ears on top of your son’s head.

“Do you think Papa will like my costume?”

“Like it? He will love it!” You picked your son up in your arms, thankful he was still light enough for you to carry, and held him against your chest as you both looked in the mirror. “I think Uncle Yves did a great job with both of our costumes this year, don’t you think?”

Your son looked up at you and smiled. “You will be the prettiest bunny rabbit tonight, Mama.” He looked back into the mirror and opened his mouth wide to let out a tiny little roar. “And I will be the fiercest lion at the ball!”

Beaming with joy, you put your son down and took his little furry paw in yours. “Are you ready to go to a party now?”

He jumped up and down excitedly; his smile, bright as the sun, was a near replica of his father’s. “But where’s Papa?”

You looked out the nearby window, the darkening skies telling you it was already getting late in the day. “He said he had something to do before the party, and that he would meet us there.”

*****

“This is what you came to my office for, Black?” Chevalier let out an exasperated sigh as his ice blue eyes met Leon’s amber eyes in a cold stare.

“Yes! This is an important matter!”

“Your ridiculous costume does not concern me,” Chevalier remarked, his eyes returning to the documents on his desk. 

“I found out that Silvio is going to the Halloween Ball as a vampire.  I was supposed to go as a vampire. I’m the King, I can’t be wearing the same costume as someone else!”

“I don’t think you’ll have that problem now,” Chevalier commented with a smirk. “I can assure you, no one else will be dressed like that tonight. Although, the color is very fitting for you, Black.”

Leon grumbled loudly at being called this nickname, but refused to dwell on it. Unfortunate as it was, he needed Chevalier’s help.

“Please. You read more books than anyone I know.”

“Yes. And you read none.”

“That’s not the point,” Leon growled. “I’m asking for your help.” 

Chevalier straightened in his seat and rested his chin in the palm of his hand, his icy gaze silently saying speak.

“Belle read a story to me the other night. It was about a masked, sword-wielding hero and his swashbuckling adventures.”

“And this is who you are supposed to be?” Chevalier asked wide-eyed.

“Yes! His name was…ah, Zoso or something?”

Chevalier was polite enough to cover his mouth when he snickered. “You mean Zorro.”

“Isn’t that what I said?” No, wait. Don’t answer that.” Leon pulled out the rapier that was sheathed at his waist and dramatically flipped his dark cape. “I am Zorro, the dashing masked vigilante!”

Leon put down the rapier and stared at Chevalier. “That was believable, right?”

“The masked part certainly was.”

Leon’s brows knitted in frustration. “You’re a bully. You know that, right?”

“You’re the one who came to me,” Chevalier replied with a snort of laughter before returning his attention to the papers on his desk.

“Oh hey, Chevalier. What costume are you wearing tonight?”

“Evil demon,” he replied without looking up from his desk.

“Ah, well, that makes perfect sense. You could go as yourself, no need to even dress up,” Leon muttered under his breath as he made his way towards the door.

“I know,” Chevalier called out. 

Leon didn’t have to turn around to know there was a wicked grin plastered on the face of the second prince.

*****

“Have you seen Leon?” you asked Jin when you ran into him at the dessert table.

Jin looked around the room slowly, looking for his younger brother. “I haven’t seen him since I got to the ball. When I saw him earlier, he did mention he might be a little late this evening.”

“Did Papa forget about the ball?” a quiet little voice asked.

Jin crouched down and held out a lollipop to his nephew. “I’m sure your Papa didn’t forget. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was still at his desk, finishing up some work that just couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”

Still crouched, Jin noticed a familiar figure dressed in black approaching. Leon held a finger to his mouth, to which Jin gave a quick wink.

Standing off to the side, you smiled as you watched Leon walk on tiptoe, trying to surprise his young son.

Jin leaned in closer to his nephew, whispering loudly in his ear. “I heard there will be many mysterious visitors at the ball tonight. Some might be friend, others foe. I need you to be on high alert and let me know if you see anyone suspicious. Can you do that for me, buddy?”

“Yes, Uncle Jin,” the small boy answered seriously.

“I think it's best if you turn around then. You won't be much of a lookout if all you're doing is looking at me,” he said. He put his hands on his nephew's shoulders, ready to turn him around at the right moment. “On my count. One, two…three!”

On three, Jin spun the young prince just as Leon was a few feet away.

“Papa!” the boy exclaimed, breaking from his uncle's hold and running to his father.

“Whose Papa? I don't recall raising a lion cub!” Leon scooped his son up in a big bear hug, gently tickling him until he began to squirm with laughter.

“It's me, it's me,” he squealed in between peals of laughter.

“What do you think?” Leon winked, gesturing to his costume. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yes. You're Zoso, the dashing, masked vigilante from the book Mama read to us!”

Leon threw back his head and let out a loud roar of laughter. 

Like father, like son, he thought to himself as he pulled his son into another hug.

“Hey!” Leon called to you, extending his hand. “Don't think you're hopping away so fast!”

Joining him in a tight hug, your heart filled with warmth. “I thought you were going to be a vampire,” you whispered in Leon's ear.

“It's a long story, I'll tell you later.” After Leon set the tiny lion cub on the ground, breaking the family hug, his hand searched for yours. “I heard…” he started in a very excited voice, “that there is a haunted maze out in the gardens. Who wants to go?”

“I do, I do!” cried a young voice.

“And you, my bunny?” Leon asked with a smirk. 

“If you're going, I'm going.”

“Hey, what about me?” Jin asked, a small pout forming on his lips.

Leon looked over his older brother for a minute. “ I'm not sure they're letting in any lazy mummies this year…” Leon let Jin stew only a few moments before clapping him on the shoulder with a wide smile. “Lucky for you though, your brother happens to be king.”

Leon led the group to the haunted gardens, his hand still clasped in yours, while Jin and the young prince ran up ahead.

“I was really looking forward to seeing you as a vampire tonight,” you said, trying to mask your disappointment.

“Oh?” 

“Not that this costume doesn't look amazing, but….” you smiled at Leon, “…you know…”

“Know what?”

“Vampires…biting….” you replied, quickly looking away as you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

Leon pulled you closer, so close he could feel that heat as he whispered to you.  “I can always change later. I still have the vampire costume.”

“Let's hurry then,” you said softly, not wanting to be heard by anyone but your husband.

Leon quickened his pace, excited to continue the haunted festivities. His arm wound around your waist as thoughts of what this evening would later bring were already dancing in his head.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady

@queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome

@kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @umi-adxhira

@crypticbibliophile @lancelotscloak @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @melodiousramblings

@wendolrea @aceuuuu @randonauticrap @aria-chikage @nightghoul381

@maries-gallery @xbalayage @xenokiryu @alydra @drachonia

@ranhanabi777 @silver-dahlia @lunaaka @portrait-ninja @sh0jun

@ikesenwritings @justpeachyteastea @kalims-pessimist-bestie @shadowylakes     @writingwhimsey  

@ikeprinces-stuff @candiedcoffeedrops     @kookie-my-little-sunshine

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia: (Part Thirty-two)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Content: Time to cry.

Both you and Mig were hesitant to leave the closet. Despite the abysmally horny scene you’d both made in the lobby in the throes of Mig’s prey-driven rut, now that you were both a little more sober, the thought of facing your colleagues was less than enticing. You didn’t want the little whispered concerns about whether you were okay, and you certainly didn’t want the snickers about Miguel’s size.

And besides, he was ever so warm. You loved the soft fuzz of his legs as they brushed your cheeks, leaving a glow on your skin. You loved the heat of his torso when he hugged you, and the little sigh he did as he rested his chin on the crown of your head.

But, you couldn’t exactly stay in there forever.

You creaked the door open just an inch and peeped your head around the corner, allowing just your eyes to appear. Mig did the exact same, slowly sliding his head around the door just above your own, like curious prairie dogs.

To your relief it seemed that the party was already in full swing. There was music playing, people laughing, cheap plastic pumpkins cackling, and huge groups of spiders all hurrying about in full costume.

Nobody would notice you. But, would they notice the room?

You glanced back over your shoulder at the mess of webs you’d left behind.The sticky stings were dripping with some kind of obscene liquid. Whether it was saliva or something else, though… well, of that you weren’t sure. Your eyes met, and in near unison you agreed:

‘They’ll just think its decoration.’

You spread your leg forward as if to leave, only to then duck out of sight once more as a gaggle of spiders rushed past, squishing yourself behind the door with Miguel awkwardly pressed up against your chest. You eyed him and your little mess up for the second time.

‘Is this… Is this a health hazard, Mig, do you think?’

‘Why are you asking me that, arañita?’

‘You’re the super genius!’

‘I’m not a doctor.’

‘A genetical physicist is better than doctor!’

‘Ay, arañita, be careful who you say that to…’

‘No, just- come on. I trust your judgment. You will ease my guilty conscience.'

‘… I mean we have never gotten sick from it.’

‘A very good point, Mr. O’Hara. A very good point indeed. In that case, I am sold. Let’s just leave it.’

Once the noise immediately outside the little closet door had passed, you allowed yourself to slip out and join the fray. Mig followed close behind.

Your hands instinctively interlocked as you headed towards the main party. It was a little nerve-wracking to be around people knowing the state of your body. You could feel the little web plug still sitting snuggly inside you, which would undoubtedly stay there until later that evening when Mig would finally and reluctantly pull it out, only to most likely stuff you again.

You were very, very, VERY full, and it was unbearably distracting.

As you took your first few steps into the crowd you glanced up at Mig. You looked at him with the expectation that you’d see the same concern on his face, that shared fear of being found out, but to your surprise, Mig looked the exact opposite. His eyes were glinting with a smug, primal sheen that you could only describe as possessive pride. He was relishing the knowledge that he’d stuffed you up and now got to parade you around while filled with his seed, his web knot, even if he put up a shy front before all the other spiders.

You huffed and gently elbowed his leg, causing him to stumble.

‘Mm! Arañita? Are you—’

Mig glanced down in shock at your unexpected nudge, but the moment he saw your expression he knew what you were thinking. He at least had the sense to break into a bashful blush as he shook himself out.

‘… I will not apologize for my instincts’ he grumbled.

‘Mig—’

‘I will not! I can’t help it. It’s in my nature to feel pride about such things.’

‘Mig, come on—’

‘Nature! It is my nature! I cannot argue with nature, arañita!’

You tried to pout, you really did, but as you stared up at his red cheeks and those big red eyes that even now betrayed a deep level of possessive adoration, you couldn’t help but break into a smile yourself. You giggled and tried to cover your mouth while Mig grunted.

‘What? Why are you now laughing?’

‘Oh, nothing. Nothing.’

‘What is so funny?’

‘Nothing!’

You decided to tease him a little more, and broke into a slight jog so that he was forced to scurry after you across the floor.

‘Ah- arañita?’ he chirped as you sped up. You saw his legs shuffling faster and picked up the pace, breaking into a run.

‘Mmm, come on. Faster’ you purred.

Mig purred back as he obediently followed. ‘Faster?’

‘Come on. You wanna know why I’m laughing, you gotta catch up’ you giggled.

Mig bristled with joy as he started to speed up alongside you. It pleased something in his primal brain to be chasing you, pursuing you. He moved his legs faster, clambering over fake pumpkins and spiders passing by as he tried to keep up with your pace.

Neither of you even paid attention to the other hoards of spiders who all jumped aside as Mig barrelled through. All you could think about was how fun it was to tease him, and how fun it would be when he caught you. In those moments, it was only you and him.

‘Arañita!’

Mig breathlessly called little nickname as he scurried through the crowd, his eyes fixed on the top of your head. He kept having to duck beneath plastic spiders hanging from the ceiling, though even at his most careful he took a number of pumpkin garlands to the face. Soon he was draped in paper decorations like a giant Halloween statue.

You finally skipped to a halt in front of the big open craft table, a movement so sharp that Mig barely had time to course-correct his own lumbering body. He skidded on the slippery tiled floor and bumped right into your back, pushing your stuffed belly into the table with a slight ‘oomph’.

A handful of people looked over with a mixture of disgust and morbid curiosity, but you ignored them. You were too busy giggling.

‘Jesus, Mig- oof, my god.’ You grunted as Mig withdrew from you, his hands outstretched to cup your shoulders as he ensured you were alright.

‘Arañita, you stopped so suddenly. Are you okay—’

‘I forgot how big you are sometimes’ you groaned, cutting off his little interjection. Mig snorted.

‘Excuse me? That seems untrue, mi amor.’

You tilted your head back and your brow tilted with it, shooting him a slightly confused expression. ‘What?’

‘That you’d forget I am big’ he repeated back. Immediately you rolled your eyes again. ‘Ohhh, okay. Okay. Really? A double entendre?’

‘A what?’

‘Your dick, Mig. You’re talking about your dick, right?’ you whispered back.

You were too busy giggling at Mig’s wide eyes and gormless expression to care about the spider people standing within listening distance, all of whom were now frozen in horror. He huffed and tried to play it off, glancing anywhere except your face.

‘I- I did not, necessarily mean that, arañita’ he insisted. Your lips curled into a smile so wide it hurt. His enormous legs were scuttling and shifting from side to side, something he only did when he was doing a terrible job of lying.

‘Oh, Mig. It’s not like you to be so coy’ you teased. You made a point of tickling the spot between his foreleg and his abdomen, knowing it would make him skitter and dance. His little tufty paws hopping back and forth always brought you joy.

‘Oye! Not there, mi tesoro’ he hissed back. He attempted to grasp and hold you still with his front paws but you just tickled those as well, noting the way his scarred, muscular body twitched and tensed as you did. Oh, to make that terrifying beast of a man quiver. It was pure joy.

He wrestled with you in the most childish form of PDA until he finally had you clutched to his chest. He held you there, one hand on your head and both forelegs wrapped around your chest, and he purred as he felt you squirm and laugh. His exasperation quickly turned back into a worn but gentle smile pulling across his chiseled, weather-beaten face.

‘Mi tesoro- ay, Dios Mio. You are in a state tonight, aren’t you?’

‘It’s a party, my love. Can I not enjoy myself?’

His smile deepened. You watched those little lines appear by his eyes as the corner of his lips tilted upward, the lines you could now count off by heart. His fangs flashed white in the spooky lighting.

‘I would love nothing more, arañita’ he murmured back. ‘I promise, I would love nothing more.’

He gave you another firm squeeze before letting you go, but his clawed hands remained on the small of your back. It was just a light touch. Not enough to herd you, but just enough to let you know he was there. It was enough to let you know he loved you.

When you turned back around all the other spiders had left. It seemed your little sickly romantic display had put them off their food.

You shrugged it off and tried not to focus on it too much, mostly for Mig’s sake. Instead, you focused on the food.

‘Ooo, they went all out.’

You picked at a few spider-themed cupcakes while Mig peered over your head. You could feel his chin on the crown of your head, nestling into your hair.

‘Mm… I remember these, I think. From before I changed’ Mig murmured to himself. He picked up a cupcake between the claws of his thumb and forefinger, coyly raising it to his face. You grabbed one for yourself and hopped up so that you were seated on the table's edge.

‘How’s it look?’ you asked, taking a bite of your own. Mig turned it a full 360 degrees barely an inch from his eyes, then took a cautious lick.

‘Mm… I’m, unsure if my stomach can adjust to this’ he grunted. ‘I’m so used to raw meat…’

‘What?’ you snorted. ‘You still have a human stomach, right?’

‘Yes… But it will pass down to my spider half’ he noted. He took another lick and visibly bristled at the sudden, overwhelming taste of butter and sugar on his tongue. You watched every hair on his abdomen stand up at once.

‘Ach! That is- overwhelming’ he hissed. You tried and failed to stifle a giggle as he bared his fangs at the little dessert.

‘Alright, alright. I’ll ask if there’s any raw venison around’ you teased, and with your free hand you grabbed the cupcake from him so that you had two.

‘No! No, I can… I will not be, defeated by this, sugary nonsense’ Mig insisted. He eyed up the cupcakes like they were about to bite off his finger, tepidly tapping back and forth as he worked up the courage to take it back once more, but as he dithered on his decision you got an idea.

‘Okay. Okay, come here. Let’s share’ you offered. When Mig raised both brows you peeled the wrapper off of the cake and placed half of it between your lips, leaving the other half hanging out for him to take. You leaned up, coaxing him down with those soft eyes you knew he couldn’t resist.

Mig almost blushed. His little abdomen wriggled with excitement, his paws tapping, and slowly he lowered his legs until you were both at the same height.

You felt his breath, his nose, the little bump of his forehead. He parted his lips, moving forward and back as he tried to find the right angle, and then he closed on the other half of the cake.

Your lips touched, and you savored it for just a moment before messily pulling apart.

Crumbs covered your lap as the middle of the cake collapsed, and you rushed to swallow between fits of giggles. Miguel was so flustered he swallowed his half in one go, forcing him to cough and thump his bare chest. That only made you giggle more.

‘Oh my god, Mig—’

‘Ah- ah. I-I don’t think I even tasted a bit of that’ he wheezed. You laughed so hard that your belly started to hurt.

‘God damn it! Alright, alright, let’s try another one—’

‘Hey! You two!’

A sharp voice drifted over the ambient spooky music, and for just a second you tore your eyes away from Mig to search for the culprit.

To your surprise, it was Jess. Miguel’s second-hand elite was moving with exorbitant speed and grace towards you and Mig, and her eyes were fixed on you in particular. You panicked and rushed to brush the crumbs off of your suit.

‘Jess! Hey, what—’

‘Where’s Miguel?’

You paused.

‘Uh, Mig? He—’

‘No, Miguel’ Jess stipulated. She looked weirdly distracted as her eyes darted around the room. ‘You know, our leader? Head of the society, the guy who should be here?’

‘Oh, uh… I-I’m not, sure’ you replied. ‘He—’

‘He is in his office’ Mig interrupted. You could feel his enormous torso leaning in over your shoulder so he could look Jess in the eye, and you could also see the way she stiffened at his presence. You bit back the urge to scowl.

‘His, office?’ Jess replied.

‘Yes. He ah, he offered to stay up late working on our project. The uh- the cross-universe serum, ma’am’ he added. ‘I offered to stay with him, but he said I should… enjoy myself, down here. With my mate.’

Jess took only a moment to dissect Mig’s response before immediately scoffing. ‘Uhuh. Uhuh. Wow, very interesting. VERY interesting.’

Her dry tone didn’t exactly land well with Mig, who instinctively took it at face value. He purred at the notion that he had, indeed, told Jess some interesting news, which only made you bristle more. You couldn’t stand the way people would talk to Mig, even if it was unintentional.

‘What’s the issue?’ you asked.

‘Oh, nothing. Just, it’s a very good story for him, isn’t it?’ Jess added sarcastically. ‘He’s being all altruistic all of a sudden, so he doesn’t have to attend the party.’

She spun in a circle and glared up at the entrance to his lab as if Miguel could somehow see her through all those dense walls. At this point Mig had finally caught on that his response hadn’t been taken as well as he assumed it would be, so he quickly shuffled forward to speak more clearly.

‘He did insist’ Mig said. ‘I offered to remain with him, but he insisted he continue working. We are very close to finding a solution, after all.’

Jess grumbled. She seemed perturbed that Mig was suddenly on Miguel’s side.

‘Ahuh. Alright. Guess I’m the honorary leader then, again, as always’ Jess said. ‘He calls me for backup when he gets his ass handed to him, and when everyone votes to throw a party I’m the one watching over it like you’re my hundreds and hundreds of spider kids—’

‘I apologize’ Mig suddenly blurted, interrupting her complaint in such an abrupt manner that both she and you jumped. Jess cocked her brow at the tentative-looking spider.

‘You- what?’

‘You seem…

Jess blinked. She blinked, and she gaped, and then she sighed. ‘My god… I forgot what you were like. Look, I’m not mad at you. I’m just- your uh, variant, is kind of a pain in the ass sometimes. Okay?’

Mig purred, his face unphased. ‘… Yes. I, believe I understand’ he purred back.

‘I’m sure you do’ Jess grumbled, and before you could even have a real conversation with her she turned and began to walk away.

‘I’m gonna go find Miguel in his office then. God damn antisocial little—’

Her mumbling faded into the background as she pushed through the crowd, leaving just you, Mig, and the ambient spooky music in the air.

As she hurried off you noticed Mig’s eyes following her. He had a blank expression as he watched her leave, but his eyes seemed instinctively driven upward to the huge gaping door that you knew led to Miguel’s office. You saw him shuffling in thought.

You knew he was probably thinking about going back himself. He looked antsy, shuffling his paws and his abdomen like a little saltshaker. You knew he was pining to finish that damn serum.

But you’d gone too long without just enjoying his presence for a while, and you were loathed to give him up now. Besides, Miguel was meant to be working on this project to make up for all the time he’d spent trying to pry you apart. You deserved to spend some one-on-one time with Mig now.

You reached out and tenderly tugged at his fur, urging him to meet your gaze.

‘Come on, my love’ you said gently. ‘Let’s go relax.’

Mig reluctantly dragged his eyes away from the office at the sound of your voice. It drew his head down until your eyes met, and he huffed at the sight of your smile. Your face was perfectly framed by the cheap Halloween lights, your lips turned up into a goofy grin that dimpled your cheeks.

He just wanted you to be his. He couldn’t stand another day without having you in his universe, in his world.

But… Perhaps, he could just enjoy you for a while. Just a while.

‘Okay, arañita’ he purred, and he returned your smile with one of his own. You adored the way his weathered, chiseled face shifted to accommodate his full lips tilting upward, the little lines by his eyes and the flash of his fangs. He never half smiled. He would always give you a full, wide, fang-filled grin when he saw you, and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

‘Good boy’ you whispered, before patting his flank and heading back into the fray. ‘Come on handsome. Let’s do some good ol’ Halloween fun.’

With Mig’s hand gripped tight in your own, you dragged him into the depths of the party to see what Miguel had allowed them to get away with.

It seems he’d allowed them to get away with a lot.

The training station with the pop-out targets had been turned into a makeshift haunted house. They’d put up fake holographic haybales to hide the pop-outs, creating a labyrinth of twists and turns with pop-up villains around the bend of each corner. The lights were so dim that spiders kept falling into themselves.

You dragged Mig in with you. He didn’t quite understand that the fear was supposed to be fun, however, and every time something popped up and caused you to squeak with shock he would instinctively pounce on it like a wild beast, crushing and tearing the flimsy holographic cut-out to pieces. By the time you reached the end the poor thing was sparking and fizzling, now nothing more than a boring hay maze filled with decapitated doc oc figures spewing gibberish one-liners.

You hurried away and hoped that anyone going in after you didn’t realize who had destroyed it. Either way, it was certainly fun.

On the higher levels, they’d set up a fake trick-or-treating scenario, with spiders lounging in different offices so others could show up, knock on their doors, and beg for candy while showing off your outfits. You were pretty excited to show off your moth costume, especially with Mig at your side, but every time you knocked on a door the response was almost always the same. They’d open it with a cheery laugh, expecting to see one of their fellows in costume, only to blanch at the sight of Mig at your back. They never even gave you the chance to speak. They’d just throw candy at your feet and slam the door, leaving you to awkwardly scoop it back up.

At least twice you’d knock and receive on response, only to realize that the spiders were peering at you from behind the curtained window. The moment you’d lock eyes the curtain would fall, hiding their cowering faces like mice from a cat. In those instances, it was Mig who had to drag you away.

It was a little disheartening, but you refused to let it bother you too much. You went through the entire hall, knocking on every door, and then led Mig to a balcony overlooking the main lobby below so you could swing your feet and share your haul.

You basked in the quiet time together. You’d throw candy into his mouth only to get it stuck in his fur, and then you’d horrify him by getting it out with your teeth. You’d test him on sour candy to see how much he could manage, and giggle at the way he writhed and rustled at the overstimulation.

Once you’d calmed down a little you made your way towards the games corner, which was a little more fun. There was a re-creation of a classic arcade, ones that in Miguel’s timeline were almost extinct, and you tried your hand at those with Mig. He was god awful at video games. His hands were huge and undexterous, barely capable of holding either the panel controls or the guns, but he liked seeing you win, so he just pretended to be trying.

There was a room hosting a screening of old, spooky horror films in black and white at the far end of the building, but Mig was too big to even fit through the door, so you sat in the doorway and described the film to him in horrifying detail. You may have exaggerated a few things.

When someone complained you were letting in too much light you used your savings to buy up the entire popcorn stand and ran off with it bulked onto Mig’s back like a horse, followed by a trail of irritated, hungry film viewers.

The moon was at its peak by the time you began to slow down. You’d been absolute menaces in just about every activity the night offered, and you’d been left with a flushed face and a mild tummy ache. Still, you weren’t perturbed. You were extremely content with Miguel’s hand gripped in your own, and so was he.

Mig hadn’t felt this good since he turned. In fact… The more he thought about it, he hadn’t felt this good ever. He was such a punk teenager that he could never allow himself to be happy, and Alchemax was a slog. Dana had loved him, sure, but looking back, it felt… superficial. It felt, childish.

He was so immature with you, by all accounts. The rabid sex, the possessiveness, the menace energy, and the constant breaking of rules. And yet… He felt older with you. He felt, settled. It was like he was clawing back the decade of life he lost out on in the woods alone, and you never once complained.

He was in love. He was a giddy, stupid fool in love, and that made it so much more real.

‘You having fun, my love?’

Mig paused in his contented daydreaming to glance down. You were peering up at him with those soft eyes, your face glowing as you smiled. He smiled back.

‘Yes. Of course, mi tesoro. Why do you ask?’

‘Your butt’s wiggling.’

Mig’s smile faltered for a second. He spun around and discovered that, just as you’d said, his abdomen was rustling with glee. It was an involuntary reflex he’d never learned to control. He turned back with a rather flushed expression, but that embarrassment wasn’t allowed to fester for long. You threw yourself against his side and squeezed him, burying right into his fur.

‘Oh, you goof. God, it feels so good to see you happy.’

Your voice almost cracked as you spoke the words directly into his soft down. Mig was left speechless.

Happy. Yes, he was happy. Truly happy.

‘Do we have anything else left to try?’ Mig asked. You pouted and turned a full 360 degrees in a circle, pondering that same question. You could see the holographic hay maze, the food stand, the apples and the—

‘OH!’

You grasped Mig’s hand and pulled, attempting to drag him towards the far side of the lobby.

‘DANCE!’

Mig remained rooted to the spot, totally unphased by your attempt to shift him. You had his hand in yours and you were tugging, your feet slipping on the fine marble flooring, but he didn’t move a single inch.

‘Mi tesoro…’

As Mig spoke he lightly tugged, and immediately you were lifted off the floor and into the air. He raised you by your hand as if you weighed nothing before dropping you into his arms.

‘What? What’s up?’ you asked while settling down. You could see the avoidance in his expression, the way he darted his eyes and shrugged.

‘I don’t… Know if I can dance, here’ he replied slowly.

‘You love dancing though! What? Is it—’

You paused and darted your own eyes. People were still staring.

All day, they’d been staring. All day.

The staring, the whispers, the judgment. You couldn’t stand it a second longer. The idea that even now, when he had every right to just exist, Mig was still afraid of being squashed like a bug, it was too much. You finally felt your bristling, broiling irritation at their gawking eyes spill over.

‘No! Come on!’

You squirmed like a hyperactive puppy in his grip until he was forced to let you go, and without saying a thing you grabbed his hands and began guiding him again. Mig sighed.

‘Tesoro—’

‘Come on! We’re gonna dance!’

‘Arañita—’

‘Baby! Baby. Just- okay, listen to me.’

You tugged one more time before pausing, but you kept both of his hands tightly gripped within your own. You felt every bump, every calloused ridge, every fine hair on his knuckles, and every sharp claw protruding from the ends of his fingertips. He returned your stare.

‘I want you to be happy’ you insisted.

‘I… Arañita, I am happy, I just—’ Mig choked on his words when he saw the group staring at him from across the lobby. You pinched his hand to draw him back.

‘They don’t matter’ you whispered. ‘They don’t. And I’ll sit here until you’re ready, but… You love dancing. I know you do. It makes you happy. So let’s do it, Mig.’

The great, terrifying spider stared down at you in a state of absolute stillness.

For a moment, you worried you’d perhaps upset him.

You hadn’t though. Instead, it was the opposite. He was staying utterly still so that he didn’t break, so that he didn’t fall into a rustling, tapping, mewling mess. That enormous, terrifying, muscular beast of a man felt his heart nearly triple over so hard it hurt.

He did love dancing. And you knew that. And you didn’t care who stared.

He pursed his lips to avoid letting out any, ‘unmasculine’ noises, which you immediately noticed. Your eyes widened and your lips parted in an attempt to ask, ‘Mig are you crying?’, but the words never came.

Because before they could be spoken, the air was filled with a soft, dull, tap.

Mig tapped his huge paw, and then the next, and then the next. He moved closer to you as he did.

Tap, tap, tap.

You knew people were staring. You felt their eyes glowing in the dim light, like bats in a cave, straining to watch this odd display. They would always be staring, and you knew that now.

But right now, it was just you. It was just him.

Your smile widened until it hurt your cheeks, and you began to tap right back.

You moved with him towards the hall, letting the music fill your ears. Louder, louder, pulsing under your feet. His tapping got faster, and he began to match the rhythm.

Never once did he let go of your hand. Never once did he let go of you. You were all he could see, dancing and swaying and moving with all the grace of an impromptu, drunken rave with a partner three times your size. Miguel was graceful, precise, just like the spider he was, but your clumsiness only endeared him more.

Round and round you went under the golden glow of the lights above. You moved until you were dizzy, you spun and crossed your feet until your ankles hurt.

Mig got so excited that he whisked you off of your feet. He raised you to his chest and reared his body high, raising his front four legs as if throwing you up into the heavens. You squealed with joy and instinctively grasped his face, and he gazed at you with all the revelry of a dying man staring at an angel.

In that moment, time seemed to stop. Your mouth widened into the widest smile, ready to burst into a fit of pure, unspoiled laughter.

But your laughter never reached him.

That sweet, beautiful sound was cut short by a dull rumbling from further up the building. It was not explosive, nor was it even particularly loud, but it was deafening. It seemed to drown out every other sound in existence.

Mig stared at you, and in unison, your smiles began to fade.

You didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to turn your head. You could see the hair on Mig’s abdomen slowly rising to stand on end, the sign of his animalistic instincts kicking in, and in turn, you felt the hair on your nape rising with the goosebumps running up your skin.

Something in your subconscious could feel what was about to happen far before your other senses ever felt it. Call it a spider-sense, call it a sixth sense, or call it dumb intuition. Whatever it was, you knew.

You knew.

The explosion followed soon after.

A horrifying whistle filled the HQ, echoing through each corridor before punctuating in a violent burst. A flash of fire erupted from one of the higher chambers in the higher HQ, and its debris scattered across the open-plan beams in a raining cascade.

‘ARAÑITA!’

Mig’s instinct was to grasp you to his chest. You were nowhere near the fire and yet it was all he could think to do. His forelegs and human arms reached out and snatched you, drawing you close to his body as he turned his back on the sound, as if he could somehow swallow all of the potential damage with his own form.

But no damage came. As the society gasped and cried and even screamed, you barely heard it, because your ear was pressed too close to Mig’s chest. All you heard was his heartbeat, thudding hard and fast against the side of your head.

It took you a moment for the shock to die down, but the moment it did you began wrestling your way out of Mig’s grasp to assess the damage. You were still a hero, after all. Mig kept his hands close to your waist as you scurried over him and gazed out over the ground to assess the damage.

Luckily nobody seemed to be hurt. Their spider senses had kicked in with enough time to jump aside, and the debris was only a few smoldering lumps.

Instinctively your eyes went up, following the trail of destruction to its source. A single, open hole in the side of the wall, a gaping maw now spewing black smoke from within.

Mig’s eyes followed your own, and immediately he froze. Your blood ran cold.

‘No, no, no—’

You both knew where the fire was coming from. The smoke curled in the air like a snake, slithering out from the entrance to Miguel’s office.

It felt like your heart exploded.

‘Miguel…’

You moved reflexively. You were a spider, after all, and your instinct was always to protect, but this wasn’t just anyone. In that moment, despite all your animosities and the strangeness of your relationship, you felt fear. You felt pain. You felt terror that Miguel was hurt, or even worse, gone.

You prepped your web-shooters and rushed into action, but Mig wouldn’t let you move. He caught you by the nape right as you moved to swing and dragged you back to the floor kicking and yelling.

‘Mig! He—’

‘I know!’

Mig spat you out onto the floor with all the tenderness his panic would allow him to muster. His head was darting so fast it hurt, spinning between you and the smoke as he scuttled on the spot.

‘MIG! He was in there—’

‘I KNOW! I am going, you stay here!’ Mig insisted, his voice rising into a firm bark.

‘Mig, what are you doing!?’ you cried.

‘You stay here! It could be dangerous!’

‘I-If it’s dangerous then I should GO, why should you go?! I don’t want you to get hurt—’

‘I have to go, arañita!’

‘Mig—!’

‘HE’S ME!’

That was all Mig could say before he barrelled his way through the crowd, leaving you behind in the dust. He didn’t bother to look at who he pushed aside, nor who he trampled on his way.

He knew in his heart Miguel was alive. He felt down to the core of his soul that he would have felt it if Miguel died. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t injured. It didn’t mean he couldn’t still die, and so he pushed his body to the brink of its physical capability to climb that impossible architecture, because he refused to know what it felt like. He refused to feel his other self die like this.

When he reached the corridor entrance the other spiders were all trying to evacuate. They blocked his body like a tidal wave, a sea of tiny bodies pressing on his legs and threatening to buckle them in their panic. He had to physically force his way through them, using the strength in his upper arms to help propel the smaller spiders to the exit.

‘GO, GO!’

‘Mig?!’

He glanced up and squinted in the darkness, but he could only see the faint outline of someone moving towards him. Luckily, he remembered that voice.

‘Jessica?!’

‘Fuck- FUCK! Something blew in there!’ she cried back as she hurried towards his voice. ‘I left him in the middle of some- fucking- I don’t know what he was doing, but then the air just hit me—’

‘It’s okay. Go back down, I’ll find him.’

‘You- what?!’

Jess paused and spun right as she reached the exit, only to lose Mig into the dark, curling smoke. She screamed after him to no avail.

‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!’

‘MIGUEL!’

Mig’s first call elicited nothing. He heard someone yelling at him from back out in the main lobby, but he refused to acknowledge it. He was solely focused on the thick of the smoke and the body he knew was contained within it.

‘MIGUEL?!!’

His second cry echoed as he stumbled forward, blindly grasping at the walls for guidance. The smoke grew thicker as Mig descended toward the main lab. As a larger beast than any other in the society he could just about handle the intake into his lungs, but not for long. He knew he had to be fast.

He blindly clambered deeper, stumbling over fallen debris and smoldering electronics. With one hand over his mouth, he screamed again.

‘MIGUEL!’

Through the crackling of the fire, a response finally came.

‘GET OUT!’

Mig felt his chest lighten. That was him. That was Miguel.

‘I’m coming through! Can you move?’

‘GET! OUT!’

Mig paid no mind to the repeated cry. He could tell Miguel’s voice was hoarse and slightly muffled, implying he was trapped beneath something. He continued forward until his clawed hands finally grasped the rim of his laboratory door.

It was a mess. It looked like a shockwave of some kind of flown out and destabilized a lot of the beams above, and it had sent the floating desk plummeting into the ground. The broken electronics must have caused the fire and the smoke. He could see them flickering and burning in the corners. 

‘MIGUEL! I AM HERE, TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE!’

‘Argh- STUPID, BASTARD, BUG—’

Miguel's last angry cry thankfully drew Mig’s eye straight to him. He was just visible through the debris. His body was crushed under several pieces of rebar, with only his upper torso visible through the swirling grey. Thankfully he didn’t seem to have been pierced by any of them. He had his head down in an attempt to avoid breathing in the smoke, which meant he likely couldn’t get out on his own.

Mig wasted no time scuttling across the floor towards him.

‘Miguel!’

With almost painful ease Mig grasped the rebar and eased it upward, filling the room with the spine-tingling scraping of metal on metal. Miguel gritted his teeth and dragged himself out like a cat, digging his claws into the floor before wrenching himself forward as far as he could. The moment his rear and thighs were free Mig dropped the rebar and yanked him by the nape the rest of the way.

‘ARGH!’

The two men collapsed on the verge of the exit, panting and coughing from the strain. Miguel’s suit was torn and sparking around his hips and thighs, the hologram seemingly torn in huge strips across his skin, but he was otherwise alive.

‘It… I-I don’t know what happened’ Miguel gasped.

‘Was it a test?!’

‘A-Argh… I-I was just, trying to run the tests, and it—’

Miguel broke down mid-explanation, sinking into another coughing fit.

‘What? It what?’ Mig snapped. ‘Where is the serum?’

‘I… I saw… I saw…’

Miguel heaved his chest as he forced the words out. ‘I-I thought I saw… A-An anomaly…’

‘A what?!’ Mig cried. He raised his head to try and make anything out, but he could see only one thing through the heavy smoke: The lab desk, the holograms, and their work still precariously balanced on its surface.

The desk where they worked had thrown a lot of the testing equipment to the floor when it collapsed, shattering it in the process. The antidote for Micaela was still safely held inside a holographic cube cage, which was designed to withstand gravity by keeping the contents inside stable at all times.

But the serum for you…

The serum had been taken out for its test, and the container had shattered. Half of it was smeared across the desk, dripping to the floor, shuddering with unstable energy as it morphed and fluctuated like liquid silver. The other half of it was still in the container, which by some miracle was propped up by a single textbook.

He could salvage it still. There was enough to salvage their experiment, he knew it.

He went to move, to save it, only to freeze once more. His eyes were drawn upward by a low, shuddered creak.

Debris. Heavy, creaking debris, slowly inching downward from where the presumed explosion had dislodged it.

Mig felt his whole body go cold.

‘I-I panicked’ Miguel wheezed. ‘I… I-I shut it down mid-test, it just- the fuses blew—’

‘No, no, no’ Mig whispered. ‘No, no—’

The debris was moving. That precarious, hanging debris was now swinging from side to side, like an axe preparing for the block. It creaked with an almost eerie, otherworldy groan.

Mig’s pupils dilated as he stared that debris down.

It wasn’t going to hit him. He knew that. But it would hit what was beneath it.

His eyes lowered and fixated on the table beneath the debris’ path.

One on side, the serum that would allow you to live in his universe. On the other, the serum to heal Gabriel’s daughter.

The debris began to groan as it inched ever lower. He felt his blood run cold.

No, no, no, NO, NO.

He had time. He had time to grab both. He had time. He had TIME.

Mig began to scurry towards the table, his spider legs struggling to move over the uneven terrain.

No, no, No, No, I have TIME! I HAVE TIME!

The debris inched lower. A wire strained and screeched as it struggled to hold its own weight. Metal poles and broken concrete littered the floor, impeding his movement like the hands of fate.

I CAN GRAB BOTH! JUST GO! I CAN GRAB BOTH!

A wire snapped. The debris sank deeper.

He moved faster, physically clawing on all fours to reach the table. He could see and feel nothing else in that moment but the dangling claws of fate above.

NO! NO, NO, NO—

And then, it snapped.

In that moment, there was only a second. There was no time to choose, no time to think. It was only instinct that could guide him. There was only something higher, something deep inside him that knew to act on pure adrenaline alone, that could make the decision that it did.

Mig threw himself at the table.

In one second, he’d grasped in.

In two seconds, he’d rolled out the other side.

In two and a half seconds, the debris had hit the table.

In a violent clatter the table burst and his body hit the floor with a deafening crunch. He could feel the concrete beneath cracking from the impact. He rolled twice before collapsing onto his back, his huge abdominal legs folded in for safety, and his hands clutched tight to his chest.

Between his tightly bound fingers, a tiny little glow was emanating.

He’d made it just in time, but only to grasp the antidote for Micaela.

Mig’s hands were shaking as he clutched it to his chest. He was wheezing, coughing painfully from the strain of the smoke, but he couldn’t even think about his own lungs in that moment, because his heart hurt more.

He was in shock. He was frozen.

It took Miguel physically screaming to draw him out of his own stupor.

‘MIG! GET OUT OF HERE YOU IDIOT, NOW!’

Mig was numb as he raised his head. He couldn’t hear anything beyond a muffled cry. It felt like he was underwater, with everything moving painfully slow. He shuddered as he pushed himself up onto his knees.

‘I… N-No, no…’

‘MIG, RUN!’

He blinked at the sight of Miguel clawing towards him. He blinked, and he turned, and he saw it.

A tiny, unstable black dot, one that seemed to spark and burst like a solar flare. It was slowly formulating out of the fallen debris, moving upward from the spot where the serum had been.

He frowned, unable to even comprehend what he was seeing.

‘… W-What, is that…?’

He clutched Micaela’s antidote and squinted at the growing dot. It looked… unnatural. Like a physical hole in reality, like a dead pixel on a camera brought to life. He blinked, and he could have sworn it’d gotten bigger.

Growing. Morphing. Eating.

A universal anomaly. A disruption. A glitch.

Miguel was beyond rational thought at this point. His eyes were so wide they’d gone bloodshot, his fangs extended to a painful degree. He was eyeing up that black, glitching spot like it was a demon straight from hell, like it was a ghost coming back to haunt him. He was in a living nightmare, and all he could see was red. He had to fight to stay lucid, to not slip back into the screams of a little girl he couldn’t save.

He screamed again.

‘MIG PLEASE! GET OUT OF HERE!’

Mig stumbled to his feet all while staring at the growing anomaly. It was tainting everything in its path. It would touch a piece of debris and cause it to shudder, glitching in and out of existence before finally being consumed by the darkness. He moved around it in a circle, like prey pacing around a predator, until he felt Miguel grab his arm.

‘GO, NOW!’

The sharp pinch of Miguel’s claws finally triggered Mig’s instincts, and he turned and fled. Miguel fled behind him, all while screaming on his phone to get a stabilizer in there now.

The two variants burst out of the entrance to Miguel’s office and out of the smoke-filled hallway in a flurry of coughs and wheezes, only to be met by a gaggle of terrified spiders. Their voices created a deafening hum around them, one that was impossible to drown out. You were at the front of the crowd when the two burst forth from the smoke, and without even thinking you rushed immediately to Mig’s side.

‘MIG! Jesus, christ you—oh my god, you’re okay!’

Your wailing did not move Mig to comfort you. In fact, your voice didn’t even seem to reach him. He stumbled blindly until his forehead hit the nearest wall, all while you watched in stupefied horror.

‘Mig?!’

You followed him closely but your hands hovered, unsure of whether to touch him or not. You’d never seen him so shell-shocked.

‘Mig? Baby, hey- hey, look at me sweetheart, I’m here—’

Your voice was just dead noise in his ears. Mig couldn’t hear anything but ringing, and he could see nothing but that little black void slowly growing on the floor. A black hole, an endless sucking abyss, the dark iris of an eye sent by the cosmos to mock him.

You continued to tug at Mig’s fur as he gripped the wall, pleading for him to look at you, but you turned when you heard Miguel wheezing. He’d staggered out into the fray in an attempt to appear in control, and was waving away the spider nurses with one hand while ringing up Lyla with the other.

‘Lyla, get the… G-Get the team in, now. We need… We need emergency, anomaly control’ he panted.

‘Miguel?’ you squeaked. He shot you a quick, red-eyed stare before turning away, unable to hide the agony your face caused him. The confusion in your eyes, the fear, the fact that you didn’t know what had been done, it made his chest so tight that it hurt.

‘Lyla! I said… I said, we need emergency anomaly control, now! No—’

‘You…’

Miguel froze when he heard that violent, echoing hiss, as did you.

Mig turned on Miguel with vicious eyes. Out of seemingly nowhere his soft, frightened face had been twisted with a deep, paranoid rage, a feeling of hopelessness that could find no outlet but despair.

‘YOU—YOU DID THIS!’

He launched himself at Miguel, the two tousling as they collapsed onto the hard floor. A horrified cry rang out through the other spiders but they were far too afraid to intervene, not when the saw the splash of scarlet erupt from Mig's claws. For a moment you were also too shocked and confused to even intervene, but when you saw Mig physically slash Miguel’s chest you darted forward to try and drag them apart.

‘MIG- STOP, SH- MIG!’ 

You screamed to get his attention, but he wasn't listening. He pinned Miguel down and try to claw at his face. 

‘YOU! YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE, DIDN’T YOU!’ he wailed. 

No matter how hard you pulled at Mig’s fur he refused. Miguel choked and gasped, his claws scraping at Mig’s face in an attempt to snap him from this emotional trance.

‘I DIDN’T- DO, THIS—’ Miguel wheezed.

‘YOU DID THIS! YOU BLEW IT UP, DIDN’T YOU!’ Mig screamed. ‘YOU COULDN’T STAND- ME- BEING HAPPY, YOU COULDN’T!’

‘I DIDN’T, DO THIS, YOU IDIOT—’

‘I’LL KILL YOU!’

‘MIG!!’

In a moment of panic, you bit Mig’s finger. You sank your teeth into the skin with just enough force to create an impression, but nowhere near strong enough to cause damage. You just wanted him to stop. You just wanted him to stop. And somehow, he did. The sudden jolt of pain broke through Mig's concentration, though it did nothing to stop the red mist coating his senses. He squirmed and spun and shook his hand on instinct, throwing your body to the floor. It was the sound of your pained squeak that broke the spell fully.

‘Arañita?!’

He looked down and finally saw you there, clutching your hand, and his eyes flashed. He saw Dana, clumped and bloody on the floor. He saw the anomaly growing. He saw all the dreams he’d had where he’d hurt you, where he’d broken you, where he’d given in to his instincts and eaten you whole.

‘Arañita, n-no, no—’

He collapsed and reached out with shaking hands, too afraid to touch you. It was you who had to take his hand, showing him that he wouldn’t hurt you again, though you couldn’t hide the disappointment and hurt in your eyes at what he’d done. You knew it was an accident, and you hadn't been hurt badly, but that didn't make it okay. However, in that moment, your discomfort only furthered his panic. 

'N-No... No, no, mi tesoro, I'm so sorry.' 

‘M-Mig, just… Just calm, down, we can talk—’

‘I’m sorry’ Mig wailed. ‘I-I’m sorry, I didn’t- I-I didn't see you, I-I can’t—’

‘Shh, hey—’

‘I don’t want to hurt you’ Mig sobbed. ‘I-I don’t, I don’t, I—’

He turned and saw the hundreds of spiders staring at you all, their eyes a blurry sea of judgment. It was like staring at some eldritch monster with a thousand eyes, all of them peering right into his soul. He couldn’t stand it.

‘I-I don’t want to hurt you’ he sobbed. ‘I-I love you, arañita, I-I love you—’

‘I love you Mig’ you replied, and this time your own voice broke. ‘G-God damn it, just- listen, please—’

‘I-I’m sorry, arañita—’

‘I know, I know—

‘I’m sorry!’

In the middle of Mig’s breakdown, Miguel finally pushed himself to his feet. Once again he pushed away the nurses and first-aid professionals trying to tend to his new wounds. Instead, he turned on Mig, his eyes narrowed and glowering.

You happened to see him staring, which drew Mig’s eyes to the same spot. All three of you stared at each other.

Miguel could have snapped at him. That’s what the old Miguel would have done. Snapped at him, blaming him for all of this mess, right before turning and fleeing the scene.

But he didn’t.

Miguel stormed forward and grabbed Mig by the head. He pressed their foreheads together, holding them nose to nose, and he shared in that despair.

‘I swear, I didn’t do this, but I- I’m sorry’ he forced out. ‘I’m sorry. I know. I know, and I am sorry.’

As unflattering as it was to admit, Miguel could only truly relate to his counterpart when he saw his own suffering inside him. Even before his attempt to reconcile for his own hypocrisy, this had held true. He’d saved him from the Dana accident for a reason. He knew what it meant to feel as if they were doomed, to fight so hard for a life where they could just be happy only to be told by the very universe itself that it could never be.

When he saw the pain he tried so hard to hide reflected in Mig’s eyes, his eyes, it broke him. He could deny it no longer.

‘I’m sorry’ Miguel whispered, his voice cracking ever so slightly from its usual cold, husky tone. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’

Mig couldn’t take it. He broke, his body heaving a single, dry sob of despair, too exhausted to even wail. His lips parted but no sound came out.

‘I’m sorry’ Miguel repeated. He sounded miserable. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘S-Stop it. Stop saying that’ Mig wheezed.

‘I’m sorry, Mig.’

‘We have to- we- we can try again.’ Mig swallowed down the lump in his throat and tried his best to speak. ‘We just have to try again. It’s okay. T-The instability, the explosion, I think it set off the anomaly, but it’s not… It’s okay. We just need to be careful. It’ll be okay. We can try again.’

Miguel didn’t reflect Mig’s optimism. Instead, he looked drained. He looked broken.

‘… We can’t, do that, Mig.’

‘Why?! We nearly had it, we—’

‘Mig.’

‘No! NO, We nearly had it—’

‘Mig, please—’

‘NO! NO, NO—’

‘Mig…’

As Miguel held his gaze, Mig saw again that deep, haunting well at the pit of his iris. The darkness that went down, down, to a memory that had been burned into his eyes forever. The memory of just one, little, black hole, swelling until it consumed an entire universe.

A million people’s blood on his hands, and the ghostly stain of a little girl cradled in his arms.

Miguel hadn’t even realized that his hands were outstretched. He looked down, slowly, and realized he was frozen in the same position he’d taken on that day, when she vanished from his grip. When he’d cradled her so hard he thought he could somehow will her back to life.

‘I… There was an anomaly’ Miguel repeated slowly, almost as if in a dream. Mig felt his body caving in. He buckled like a horse, sinking and melting beneath the weight of what he knew was to come. ‘When it broke… You saw it, Mig…’

‘We have to- we have to try’ Mig repeated desperately.

‘There was an anomaly, Mig’ Miguel said, and the coldness of his tone drew even Mig to pause.

‘There was an anomaly, when it broke. That was exactly what I feared. We are meddling with things far beyond ourselves, far beyond the natural order, do you understand?’

‘No, no… It, just…’

‘Mig.’

The spider hybrid froze, his claws outstretched in a pleading manner. He looked broken.

‘Mig, I can’t allow this’ Miguel hissed, speaking in tones that only you and Mig could hear. ‘I can’t. I saw what messing with the canon like this does, and I will never see it again. I-I would rather die. Do you understand?’

Mig swallowed hard, only to find his throat had closed up. ‘… Please… Miguel—’

‘I saw this before.’

This time Miguel whispered, and he leaned in against Mig’s ear so that you couldn’t hear him. ‘I did this before. I messed with the universal stability, the webs. I tried to force myself into a universe I was never meant to be in. I-I did it for a family. I did it so I could be happy. And I watched that anomaly grow, and consume, and eat up my baby until she was nothing.’

Mig felt like ice water was going down his spine, trickling over the sharp bone beneath his skin and chilling him to the core. It was the most unpleasant, agonizing sensation he’d ever felt. He could almost see it; the little girl, the screams, the vanishing.

‘I. Would rather. Die’ Miguel repeated in slow, sharp terms, making his stance clear with not a drop of uncertainty. ‘I would rather throw myself, into that anomaly, than see anyone else ruined by it. I can’t. Mig, I can’t. I can’t see any more lives lost.’

Mig wanted to say something. He wanted to say anything.

But what did he say?

When he looked at Miguel, he knew there was no changing his mind. He had no serum left to test, no serum left to double-check. He’d saved Micaela’s antidote instead, because deep down, they were Spider-Man for a reason. Miguel O’Hara was a miserable creature, who loved far, far too much.

And he would suffer for that, forever. And so would you.

‘T-There’s… There’s nothing we can do?’

You finally stepped in and croaked out that question to Miguel, almost as if in shock. Miguel sombrely nodded.

‘I’ll do whatever I can, with the other elites’ Miguel murmured. ‘I might be able to get an agreement to sanction the relationship, even without the serum. The test still doesn’t prove that being together will cause any complications, just… Just that a combining of universal DNA might. So, no serum, and… And no children.’

‘But, we can still be together?’ you whispered. Miguel refused to nod, which caused your gut to twist.

‘… I’ll do what I can’ he murmured. ‘I will push the process as far as it can go. I promise.’

Mig nodded, but he looked numb as he did so. He didn’t even move when you crept back up to take his hand. He squeezed your fingers, clutching your delicate wrist so hard he could have snapped it, but he didn’t look at you.

Even when you whispered, even when your heart broke and your eyes grew wet in the face of his coldness, he didn’t look at you.

He couldn’t.

He couldn’t face the loss.

That beautiful life was gone.

[thatoneyanderewriter]

ghostface!coriolanus snow

tw: dark themes, possessive behavior, coryo is insane, so in character lolz, implied murder and stalking, blood, lmk if there is more.

I might explore this au a bit more but I’d like to hear from you guys.

“Lucy Gray, what are you doing? You ask your sister. “Going out, just for singing and stuff, you know how it is, She kindly replied.”You can come too.”

“I know a liar when I see one, you’re going to a party tonight, aren’t you? You smirk. “Maybe, but I do plan on singing, music wise, Lucy Gray laughed.”Again, you can come.”

“Nah, it’s fine, Alcohol and I don’t work together well, and parties aren’t my thing, You politely decline. It was true. And your parents wouldn’t be home for another week or so. Business and all that. You had cousins, Maude Ivory and Barb Azure, but they lived a bit further from you.

Lucy Gray was always the life of the party. She had more friends than you, was a straight A Student. You were jealous happy for her.

“Well, you know the rules, don’t tell, bye! she said, and leaves. she wasn’t always honest with you, but at least she was right now, and able to trust you with that information.

you made some popcorn after dinner, with soda of course. this town was quite peaceful, and up until last year, there hadn’t been much crime. that was, until a murder happened.

ever since then, things had been paranoid. everyone and everywhere. but overall, the town hadn’t changed other than that. In the midst of the movie, you get a call. “I swear to fucking god… You begin, then pick up.”Hello? Who is this?”

“Is Lucy Gray home?”

You sigh, always for your sister. You knew people but were mostly invisible.

“No, I can take a message for her though.”

“Okay.”

“So, what’s the message? You ask, suspiciously.

“Just a friend from school, asking about the project she agreed to be partners on. Gave me the number for the project. Uh, you know when she’ll be home?”

“No, sorry, I’ll tell her though, bye!”

“Wait-“

You sigh, unpausing your movie when only a few seconds later, the phone rings again. You groan, but pick up anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hello.”

“I thought you were leaving a message for my sister, shouldn’t you call back later?”

“Yeah, but you’re much more interesting to talk to.”

“I’m flattered, you say sarcastically.”Listen, there’s not much to talk about. I’m-“

“watching a movie?”

“how did you know that?”

“lucky guess.”

freaked out, you hung up and locked every door. someone must be watching you. closing every curtain, you tried your very best, you really did. you’ve watched scream a million times, you know how to play smart. or so you thought.

the moment you heard footsteps you grab a knife from your kitchen, stepping forward but back with hesitancy. this better not be ghostface, you think. but just your luck.

suddenly, ghostface appears, knife in hand and blood on the mask, it was hard to tell on the actual costume. that’s when you bolt, and run as fast as you can while dialing 911, until your wrist is grabbed and your phone drops, surprisingly not breaking.

ghostface turns you around with the knife in hand. he’s found you, you’ve lost, and you’re about to be dead.

“I do love a good chase.”

despite the voice modulator, you could visibly recognize it a little, the voice. but you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping your demise comes faster if you do.

suddenly, you hear a laugh. and that’s when you know for certain who is ghostface. “coryo? you whisper, with a tone of relief and fear.

“that’s right, doll.”

you open your eyes, that nickname was once sweet, maybe even attractive when he said it, but now it made you feel sick. “why would you kill people? you said.

taking it off of him, he holds your face in his hands.”had to make sure they knew who you belonged to, that’s all.”