#it'll turn on to any channel it was already on when it was turned off last

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

game time! who do you think of when I say the names: mick, pete, don, glen(n) and roger? 🤍 send this to 10 mutuals and pick your own names

mick tucker, pete ham, don henley, the name glenn always reminds me of @hellbent-for-metal's blog because of the glenn tipton posts annnd the name roger has a 50/50 chance of putting either roger taylor or roger waters in mind

[miscellaneoussmp]

That reveal fucking got me, it got me so fucking hard guys!!! It's bringing me out of my writing break, that's how hard it got me!! Anyways here's Bagi being alone, she's coping (cw/tw: implied mental health issues/violence, mentioned gore):

It was getting real late, and Bagi was only now just returning to her small apartment. She couldn't stand it, being alone, so she spent all her time at work. Work being the small private investigators that hired her after she lied her ass off about her age and experience. She was using them, really. If she rose up the ranks, then she could lie about needing to go to that prison. Then, she could finally complete her plan. She's been dreaming of that day for years.

Bagi's apartment is mostly bare. Aside from a TV and DVD player (that cost most of two paychecks), the table they sit on, and a couch with a blanket and a few pillows. Her kitchen is a bit nicer, but not by much. She had stolen most of the nicer things. Like her knife set. It had been a hassle, but she managed. She walked through the kitchen, not grabbing any food but instead grabbing one of the knives. Bagi isn't hungry right now. She hasn't felt hungry in years. She eats to survive. She wonders vaguely if her coworkers noticed. It didn't matter. They haven't noticed anything yet. Not how she lies through her teeth, not how she steals most everything she owns, not how her clothes look two sizes too big even if they're supposed to be her exact size, nothing. They don't even notice when she stares a bit too long at crime-scene photos.

Her sat on her couch and turned on the TV. It was left on the main menu of a documentary DVD. This documentary was about her brother and every gorey detail of his list of crimes. She couldn't care less, that's her brother and she loves him all the same. Her brother. Her other half. Her brother, Cellbit. Bagi and Cellbit, attached at the hip. Twins, forever and always. She holds the knife in her hand. She wonders if she could do what he's done. She doesn't care if she goes to hell, as long as she goes to hell with him. They share the same face, the same eyes. Is it mom or dad's face they share? Are her teeth as sharp as his? Bagi doesn't eat meat. She'll never know. When the documentary ends, Bagi wipes tears from her eyes. She didn't even know she was crying. She does this a lot.

After a few deep breaths, she tries to keep her composure. She can't be crying. The investigation isn't over yet. It's not over until she's face to face with him again. She can't cry yet. The documentary is finished. She'll change the channel back for now and turn it back when she goes to sleep. For now, the news. She regrets her decision almost immediately. A breaking news story about multiple escaped convicts. They show the mugshots. One is her brother. No. They're fucking lying, this is some big fucking joke.

Bagi barely suppresses a scream as she throws the knife she's holding into the wall just above her TV. No fucking way Cellbit is leaving behind again! He couldn't fucking wait for her this one time. She was going to save him! She just fucking found him again! Her rage buzzes under her skin. She can't stay here tonight. She's going back to work. Bagi can already feel her phone vibrate, them begging her to return. This case will big a break for them. It'll be her magnum opus. She grabs the knife from where it stuck in the wall and stuffs it into her bag. She can't fucking believe it. Cellbit forgot about her, again. She'll deal with it when she finds him.

[your-divine-ribs]

Caught Red-Handed

Words: 6.3k

Doesn't Van ever think about knocking?

Friends to lovers // eventual smut // I have a Sam version of this story on my Wattpad too xxx

Imagines Masterlist Main Masterlist

You'd been friends with Van for years, right back when the notion of recording platinum-selling albums and touring the world was just a dream. He was that friend who you could talk to if you had a problem. He never judged you and he always had your back. He was the one person you could call on if you needed anything. So when you'd had a huge bust up with your friend and house-mate and he asked you to move into his house in Chester you didn't think twice. Larry had moved out just months before and there was Van, rattling around in the house all by himself. He'd never been any good with just his own company… and you were of no fixed abode. It was the perfect solution. There was just one small problem...

The past few months you'd started to see Van in a different light. His striking ocean eyes captivated you like they never had done before. The feel of his body pressed up next to yours when he greeted you with a hug made your heart race. And seeing him with his female fans fawning all over him just set off a sharp sting of jealousy which you had no business feeling.

Now here you were on a Sunday night, lounging on the sofa watching TV and feasting on takeaway pizza, trying not to react to the fact that your pulse had started to quicken the moment Van took his seat next to you, barely leaving a gap between your two bodies.

"Give us another slice of yours," he says, not waiting for your consent but reaching over into the cardboard box on your lap.

"No way!" You protest, slapping at his intruding hand and then snatching the box away out of his reach. "You've already had two slices you greedy git!"

"Come on, yours is well nice," he pleads. "I'll swap ya."

"Ughhh not a chance. It's not my fault you ordered the worst pizza on the menu. I mean who has pineapple on pizza anyway?" You wrinkle up your nose in disgust.

"Well, I'll just have to take control of this then if we're not sharing!" Van announces, grabbing for the remote control and switching channels.

You groan as Match of the Day fills the TV screen. You hate football and Van knows it. He's obviously just trying to wind you up and it's working.

"Hey that's not fair, it's my turn to choose what we watch tonight. Spider-Man's on in ten minutes and I wanna see it."

"Do you really wanna see the film, or just perv over Tom Holland, eh?" Van chuckles, holding the remote control higher as you swipe for it. "Ah that's it, isn't it? Ooh Tom, Tom! You're so sexy!"

He mimics you in a silly girly voice, throwing his head back and laughing as you narrow your eyes at him. God he's bloody infuriating sometimes, like a big kid.

"Shut up and pass it here!" You whine, setting your pizza box down on the empty seat next to you so you can reach up to grab the remote.

It's no use though, he passes it over to his other hand and stretches right out so there's no chance of you getting it from your current position.

"If you can get it you can watch what you like," he taunts. "And if you don't I get the rest of your pizza!"

You rise up out of your seat, leaning right over him, one hand on the back of the sofa near his head, the other reaching over as far as you can, fingers straining.

"You're so bloody annoying!" You complain, kneeling on the seat next to him so you can reach even further.

He just laughs with the widest shit-eating grin plastered across his face, riling you up further. You're almost there, your fingers practically touching the remote, just an inch further and it'll be yours…

And then your foot slips out from under you and you find yourself sprawling forwards, toppling right over into his lap. You're practically straddling him, your chest thrust right in his face.

"Woah! If you want my body you've only got to ask!" Van jokes, his whole face creasing into laughter at your obvious embarrassment as you scramble up on to your feet, your cheeks glowing.

You'd normally laugh it off, come back at Van with some cutting remark, but for once you're lost for words, a combination of your self-consciousness and the fact that being so close to Van has made your body react in all sorts of inappropriate ways.

You have an urge to get away now you're on your feet, putting your head down and heading for the door, mumbling something about not feeling too good.

Van springs to his feet immediately, catching hold of your arm just as you're about to exit the room, gently bringing you to a stop.

"What's up? I've not really pissed you off have I? I was only joking you know. We can watch whatever you like... Y/N? Are you alright?"

You've no choice but to turn and face him, your awkwardness increasing. You just hope you sound convincing.

"I'm okay, it's not you... I've just... come over feeling a bit funny... a bit sick. I think I'm just gonna go and lie down upstairs for a bit..."

Van's face falls with obvious disappointment and then creases with concern. "Hope you're okay..."

You pull away, saying you'll be fine, hurriedly rushing up the stairs and into your bedroom, pushing the door closed behind you and flopping down on to the bed, frustrated.

This has got to stop. You've known Van for so long he should be more like a brother to you. If anything happened it would just make things weird. Not that he's probably remotely interested in you at all romantically or sexually. The trouble is, now you've started to see him that way you can't get the thoughts out of your head. There's no way you're going back downstairs now to torture yourself all the more.

You sigh, resolving that you may as well just call it a night and try and get some sleep. You get undressed and shimmy into the little silk slip that you sleep in. It's far too hot to get under the covers so you lie on top, closing your eyes and trying to clear your mind, hoping that sleep claims you soon.

It's useless. Images of Van scroll through your head ceaselessly. His disarming smile... his stunning blue-green eyes... that cheeky way he looks at you, waiting for a reaction when he's winding you up...

It starts out innocent enough, but then your mind really starts to wander. You recall a morning last week when you'd bumped into Van in the hallway when he'd just stepped out of the shower dressed in nothing but a towel, his pale skin still flushed from the warm spray. Imagine if his towel had slipped...

Warmth floods your body at the thought and you squirm on the bed, pressing your thighs together.

Think about something else Y/N, for fucks sake...

Your thoughts drift to yesterday afternoon. Van was messing around with lyrics for a new song he was writing and he wanted your views on them. A smile springs on to your lips, you love the fact that he values your opinion so much.

This is a safe topic to think of. You picture the scene from yesterday. Van was sitting on the sofa in front of the window, strumming away, his eyes screwed shut whilst he sang, completely lost in the music. You'd been grateful for that so you could watch him uninhibited. The sun was low in the sky and it was streaming through the window, bathing him in a soft golden glow. God he'd looked gorgeous.

You'd been focussing on his hands, his long, slender fingers flying up and down the frets, expertly picking out the notes. His hands...

Oh god.... here you go again. You must admit you've become quite obsessed with his hands recently. His fingers are just so... long...

Just imagine...

Fuck... now your mind's really working overtime but this time you don't try and divert it. It's been months since you've been intimate with anyone after your prick of an ex dumped you, and he treated you that badly you've not felt sexy at all since... until now. Why not just enjoy the feeling? It's only a fantasy anyway.

Eyes still screwed shut, you hitch up your silky slip around your hips, spreading your legs apart. You start to touch yourself over your underwear, imagining it's Van's fingers instead of your own. That's when you realise exactly how turned on you are. In no time your heart's racing and your breathing heavy as you writhe on the bed. Your panties feel damp to touch as you curl your fingers around the edge of the lace and move them aside.

You start to caress yourself, dipping one finger inside you to gather the slickness of your arousal, then spread it upwards over your clit, moving in tight circles.

God that feels good. You tip your head back on the pillow and spread your legs even wider, moving your hips in time with your caresses, little whimpers of pleasure escaping your lips. All the time you're thinking about Van and imagining his hands on you, that familiar tightening feeling building in your core.

What you don't realise is that you have an audience. Van came upstairs a few moments ago to check on you, worrying about you feeling poorly.

He didn't knock. He didn't even think. Now he wishes he had... or maybe not...

He knows what he should do. Back slowly and quietly out of the room, pretend he's not seen you, then carry on pretending he's not seen you. But he can't. He's transfixed. He doesn't think he's ever seen a sexier sight in all his life than you pleasuring yourself. Hair spread wantonly over the pillow, brows furrowed a little, your mouth a perfect O shape. Your body's rising and falling with your deep breaths, your fingers gliding over your slick skin. Christ, those little moans that you're making. He can feel his dick stiffening, pressing uncomfortably on his jeans. And then...

"Oh Van..."

What the fuck?

The shock suddenly snaps Van out of his trance and he steps back quickly, kicking the door as he does, alerting you to his presence.

What the fuck?

Your eyes snap open in a heartbeat and you sit bolt upright, confused for a second until you see Van lingering in the doorway, a stricken look on his face. Did he see... everything? Did he hear his name?

Your heart practically leaps out of your chest and you grab for the duvet, horrified, wrapping it tightly around yourself.

"Jesus Van, haven't you ever heard of knocking?" You cry out, mortified, feeling the colour instantly drain from you in shock but then swiftly return with your humiliation, staining your cheeks scarlet.

Van appears to be speechless, his mouth opening and closing like he's a fish out of water. All the time he's shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Finally he manages to string together some stumbled words.

"I... I'm so sorry. I was... errr... worried about you... 'cause you said you felt sick. I was just... errr... coming up to check on ya."

"Yeah well I'm okay!" You say, your voice coming out high-pitched, your eyes darting around so you don't have to look directly at him.

"I can see that!" He blurts out.

You allow yourself to look at him now, and there's a moment where your eyes lock, and it's like there's a million things you both want to say but you can't find the words.

And then it passes. Van backs clean out of the room, still muttering his apologies, and you sit there in shock... absolutely mortified.

What now?

As soon as your eyes flicker open the next morning it all comes flooding back in a wave of red hot shame and humiliation. How the fuck are you supposed to face Van again after he's seen you in such a compromising position? And, even worse... did he hear you moaning his name? How the hell are you even going to look him in the eye if he knows you've been fantasising about him?

You hurriedly shower and dress and make your way downstairs to find that Van's already there, he's obviously rolled right out of bed and come straight down in the hunt for breakfast.

He stands in the kitchen in just a pair of trackie bottoms, no t-shirt, hair all mussed up and looking every bit as delectable as the full English he's frying up on the stove. Your mouth's watering and you're not sure whether it's the aroma of the bacon or the sight of him.

Your gazes lock as you enter the room and for an awkward moment you don't think anyone's going to speak, but then Van does, and it's an admirable attempt to make things seem normal but it just falls flat.

"Oh... morning love. Want some of this? There's plenty. I was gonna come and ask if you wanted some but..."

You thought you might disturb me finger-fucking myself on the bed?

Of course he doesn't say it but you're both thinking it. You can tell by the tiny hint of a smile that plays on his lips, the way he trails off, looking down, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Errr... no... thanks, I... errr... actually have... a meeting first thing. Thought I'd get to the office early, catch up on some stuff. I'm so busy at the moment. Honestly the emails... they never stop coming..."

Now you're babbling, and you have a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that what's happened will taint your easy-going friendship with Van. You really don't want a silly moment to ruin the precious bond you have. You panic, still mumbling about your heavy workload as you grab a banana out of the fruit bowl and make for the door.

You cringe all the way to work and by the time you get there you're in such a state over it that you vow to try and put the whole thing to the back of your mind or you'll just drive yourself crazy. Thankfully work is busy and you throw yourself into it, managing to completely switch off your whirring brain. In fact you almost forget all about it until your phone buzzes with a text notification mid-afternoon. It's Van.

Van: Hi hope you're ok. Me and Bondy are having a few drinks down the local tonight if you fancy it? x

Usually you wouldn't hesitate, especially if Bondy's down from Newcastle. You love seeing the guys, but you realise that you can't face it and you find yourself grudgingly typing a reply.

Sorry Van, I'm having a rough day and I'm tired already. Have fun and say hi to Bondy for me...

Van obviously does have fun as he's still not back home by the time your eyelids have grown heavy and you've taken yourself off to bed that evening. You can't sleep though, lying there on your back staring up at the ceiling, going through scenes in your head where you and Van sit down to discuss what happened like two sensible, mature adults. The only problem is every single scenario you dream up has the same outcome: Van sniggering like a naughty schoolboy and you ending up red-faced and flustered and even more embarrassed than you were beforehand.

You're still chasing sleep when you hear the key in the lock and heavy footsteps traipsing into the kitchen at gone midnight. You sit up in bed, wondering whether you should get up and speak to Van but then you hear a loud clattering noise, followed by some curse words and muted laughter. He's definitely drunk.

You sigh, sinking back down into bed, listening to Van clumsily banging around in the kitchen, then you hear his footsteps on the stairs. You even find yourself counting the steps, waiting for the moment he'll walk past your bedroom.

And then there's silence... He's stopped... right outside your bedroom door.

You can just make out his shadow in the tiny gap of light filtering under the door. He's standing right there! Your heart almost stops beating and you realise that you're holding your breath, waiting for a sound... his voice, maybe a knock, or maybe he won't knock... again. Maybe he's standing there imagining you like you were last night...

And then you hear him move away.

The rest of the week carries on in the same vein. You blatantly avoiding Van by way of feigning imaginary illnesses or tiredness and enduring awkward encounters in the kitchen that have you quickly scurrying away, and by the time Friday comes around you're running out of excuses.

You've had another exhaustingly long, hectic day at work and when you arrive home you breathe a sigh of relief when you stand quietly in the hallway, listening for any signs of life in the house and you hear none. Great... that means Van's more than likely out, so you've got the whole place to yourself. No sneaking around, no hiding away, you can just relax.

You kick off your shoes and make for the kitchen, on a mission to find the largest glass you can to fill with wine before heading upstairs for a long soak in a luxurious bubble bath. It sounds heavenly...

"Surprise!"

You practically jump out of your skin at the sight of Van in the kitchen as you push through the door. He's standing there holding a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other, the widest grin on his face practically splitting it in two.

"What's all this?" You exclaim, eyes wide, heart pounding from the shock of discovering that you're not as alone as you thought.

"Thought I'd treat ya... 'cause you've been working so hard and I also thought you needed cheering up 'cause you've been dead grumpy..."

"I've not been grumpy!" You protest, aware that you do, actually, sound extremely grumpy. You smile despite yourself.

He continues, placing the glasses down on the kitchen table and beginning to pour out the wine. "And you've been avoiding me."

Shit...

"I've not been avoiding you at all, I've just been... busy, and tired. It's been a long week."

He pauses, looking at you with eyebrows slightly raised. "Oh really? So you've not been avoiding me since..."

Uh-oh. Here it comes. You brace yourself, feeling your cheeks warming, watching his face scrunching in second-hand embarrassment for you.

"Since... The Incident..."

The Incident?  The way he says it, even pausing for effect, like he's talking about some award-winning feature film he's bigging up, leaves you in no doubt that you're not going to be able to get away with pretending like it never happened. He wants to discuss it. Right now.

You shoot out a hand, reaching for one of the wine glasses and gulping at the contents, hoping for the alcohol to dull your embarrassment, but sadly it doesn't work that fast.

"Did you have to bring it up?" You say, swirling your wine around in the bottom of your glass to avoid looking at him.

"Actually yes, I do," he says. "If we're gonna live together we need to clear the air. We can't go on like this. I feel really bad that I didn't apologise properly as well, so I'm saying sorry now. I really should have knocked. I just didn't think..."

"Okay, okay!" You interrupt, relieved that he actually seems to be handling the situation maturely and not descending to adolescent level. "Apology accepted. Can we just forget about it now... please?"

"Uh-huh..." Van nods before taking a sip from his own glass, but he's eyeing you over the rim in such a way that you know it's not the last you've heard of it.

You try for a distraction. "Shall we get a take-away? I'm starving."

That seems to have worked. Van immediately clutches his belly announcing how hungry he is and you suggest Chinese. Van places his phone on the kitchen counter and you spend a while hunched over it, perusing the menu. Then you wander into the living room with your wine, leaving Van to phone the order through.

You smile to yourself. Well... that was pretty painless. Hopefully now you can just get back to being housemates and carry on hiding the fact that you're secretly in love... hold on, no... LUST...with Van. There's no way that this is love. What made you even think that?

Your thoughts are interrupted by Van entering the room, grumbling that the restaurant are busy tonight so your food will take at least an hour.

"Well... we may as well have more wine then," he says, holding out the bottle to offer you more and you gratefully accept.

"Woah, not so much," you protest as he fills your glass so full it's practically slopping over the top. "You know how drunk I get on an empty stomach!"

"Lightweight!" He teases, setting his glass down on the coffee table and taking a seat next to you on the sofa.

To your surprise he doesn't sit facing the tele but angles his body so he's facing you, and when you glance over at him him he's got his eyes fixed on you with a grin. You look away but you can feel his eyes on you still.

"What?" You finally say. "What are you looking at me like that for?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Anxiety squirms in your gut and you take another large swallow of your wine. "Well... I'm sure you're just going to ask me anyway..."

You pretend to pick at an imaginary piece of fluff on your dress so you don't have to look at him.

"Do you... errr..." he pauses for a second before carrying on. "Do you do that... all the time?"

"Do I do what all the time?" You say, playing dumb, but you know damn well what he's talking about.

"You know... last weekend... when I caught ya..."

"Oh my god Van!" You cry. "What sort of a question is that?"

He shrugs, still grinning. "C'mon Y/N. How long have we been mates for? We can talk about anything can't we? I'm just curious... that's all."

The embarrassment is radiating off you in waves, but Van's completely unbothered. Your instinct is to tell him to mind his own business, but you don't. There's something about the thought of discussing such an intimate topic with him that's made your heart thump with excitement.

"Of course I don't do it all the time!" You giggle shyly. "Why? Do you?"

"When the mood takes me. Which is... errr... quite a lot actually!" He starts chuckling, while you shake your head. "Well? It's not like I've got anyone else to do it for me is it?"

"What are you talking about? You're not exactly short of female admirers are you? And probably male ones too! You could be shagging someone different every night if you wanted to!"

Van pushes his hair back off his face. He's still wearing a huge smile. "And why would I wanna do that? You know I don't sleep with fans. And I don't go for one night stands... not anymore."

You consider Van's words. He's right. He's certainly not the horny 22 year old he used to be who took full advantage of having girls throwing themselves at him everywhere he went when the band first started getting a following.

In fact since you've moved in with him he's not had any lovers over to stay the night at all. It was one of the things you were worried about when he'd asked you to move in with him to be honest. The thought of having to smile sweetly at a parade of loved up, freshly fucked conquests each morning whilst eating your breakfast just made you feel sick to your stomach with what you’re now realising is jealousy.

Van hasn't finished. He reaches over for his wine glass whilst he's talking. "It's funny isn't it? Back then I thought I was living the dream, but now I realise how kinda shallow I was. I guess as you get older you realise the thing about sex is it's not quantity but quality that's important."

This surprises you. You weren't expecting the conversation to take this sort of turn, you were anticipating Van teasing you mercilessly about what he caught you doing. You'd been dreading it, but the realisation hits you now that it would have been a lot easier to cope with. Hearing Van talking frankly about his love life is just making you realise how much you want to be a part of it. And it's not just the sex. You want all of him.

"Yeah well it's alright if you find someone you're compatible with I guess..."

Van drains his glass, reaching for the bottle and topping himself up. "You're so right. I mean why settle for a quick meaningless fuck with a practical stranger when you can have a real connection with someone?"

And then he looks at you. Really looks at you. You can feel yourself melting under his gaze. You want him so bad. And maybe he wants you too...

But maybe you're getting this all wrong. Maybe it's just wishful thinking and the wine and the talk of sex that's making you feel like the atmosphere in the room has changed. Your head's spinning with thoughts and you panic.

"I hope the food doesn't really take an hour! I'm starved!" You suddenly blurt out, making to rise up out of your seat, but Van darts out a hand to gently grip your arm, stilling you. He's still got that look in his eyes, a certain intensity that makes your belly flip and your heart stutter.

"I heard you," he says quietly.

"What?"

"I heard you say my name... last week. You were thinking about me weren't you? While you were..."

Oh shit! How are you supposed to get out of this one? You can't deny it.

"I... I..." you start but trail off. Your cheeks are burning and your head feels light and there's nowhere to hide.

Van takes your wine glass from you and places both his and yours on the coffee table. Then he reaches for your hand, his fingers curling around yours, entwining them together. He has an earnest expression on his face as he speaks.

"It's okay... don't be embarrassed. I have a confession to make actually..."

He shifts in the seat, moving closer, his eyes not leaving yours. The air between you is thick with a heady kind of tension which only increases as Van speaks again.

"Since I saw you... like that... I've not been able to get it out of my mind. I think it was the hottest thing I've ever seen. All I can think of is seeing you like that again. I really wanna be the one to make you feel like that... for real..."

"I... I..." you stutter, struggling to form anything coherent, your mind fogging over with lust, imagining what might happen.

Van pulls the hand that he's holding towards him, urging you to move your body around to face him more fully and you comply. He's getting closer still, now just inches away.

"Because I reckon I could make you feel good. Really good... if you'll let me?"

He reaches forward with his other hand, gently cupping your cheek. You want to surrender to him, your body automatically responding, your breathing deepening, nerves bristling, but you find yourself holding back.

"I... I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to... it's just... I don't wanna complicate things. I like you Van. Actually... I really like you."

You feel your cheeks warming from the unexpected confession you've just let slip, immediately fretting that you've said the wrong thing, but you don't need to worry. You feel Van's fingers brushing your cheek, his eyes simmering with desire but affection too. "You don't know how happy that makes me to hear you say that... the feeling is definitely mutual."

His gaze drops down to your lips and back up and you find yourself doing the same to his, waiting for the moment they meet, eager to taste him. But still you hesitate. "Can we... can we just... go slow?"

"We can go as slow as you like..."

You both lean in together, too hasty, teeth clashing. It's silly and awkward and you laugh breathlessly, pulling away.

"We'll try that again shall we?" Van chuckles softly and this time he takes the lead, his hand going to the back of your neck, winding through your hair, pulling you closer.

Your mouths meet and this time it's tentative and slow, your lips brushing each other's gently. You sigh into the kiss as it deepens, your tongues entwining. It's like a release, you've dreamt about this moment for so long and now it's actually happening.

Van's free hand goes to your waist and he pushes you back on to the sofa. You grasp at his hips, wanting to feel the weight of him on top of you and he obliges, pressing himself on to you, his knees sliding between your legs. Just the feel of his warm body flush next to yours makes desire pool down deep inside you and you feel your hips push upwards to meet his like they have a mind of their own.

"Hmm... someone's eager," Van whispers, as he pulls away from the kiss, hovering over you.

"You have no idea," you smile back, your hands sliding between your bodies and going to the buckle of his belt, hastily unfastening it. Ideas of going slow are suddenly the last thing on your mind.

He smiles wickedly, and he catches his bottom lip in his teeth as he looks down on you. "You're a fucking vision, you know that? I've been dreaming about this for so long. What I'd like to do to you..."

"Oh yeah?"

His belt's unfastened now, and you slide your fingers under the waistband of his jeans, but you don't get far before you feel Van's hands on your wrists, gripping them gently but firmly, guiding them away, pushing them back against the chair.

"Nuh-huh, this is all about you," he says. "Told you I wanted to make you feel good didn't I?"

"But..." you start to protest, stopping when he raises a hand and presses his index finger against your lips.

"All I wanna hear from those lips is how good it feels, okay?"

"So I've just got to lie here?" You say, biting back a grin at the smirk on his face as he rises up slightly, placing a hand on either of your thighs, pushing your dress upwards until it's bunched up around your hips.

"Yeah... think you can manage that?"

You feel a little vulnerable and exposed in front of Van in such an intimate way for the first time, feeling the flush on your cheeks, the adrenaline flooding your body with excitement.

His fingers trail down your thighs slowly, tracing little patterns on your skin, and you can feel the small callouses on his finger tips. You're so sensitive to his touch your body shivers every now and again and he watches you intently, a smile playing on his lips as you gasp as he inches closer to the edge of your underwear and then moves away.

"You're a fucking tease McCann," you say, watching his smile widen, his eyes light up with mischief.

"It'll be worth the wait... trust me," he says self-assuredly.

Christ... your heart's beating double time, your breathing getting shallow. You need to feel something, your hips twitching as Van places a palm on either of your thighs, slowly pushing them even further apart. Then he dips his head down, and you feel his lips pressing against your inner leg by the knee. He plants delicate kisses all the way up one thigh, then moves to the other side, repeating his actions. Little tremors shoot through you in anticipation.

"Van..." you breathe, yearning to feel his touch where you need it.

"What's up love?" He asks teasingly, fingers trailing along the edge of your underwear. "What do you need?"

"You know damn well what I need," you whine, impatient. All you can think of is his hands. Those long fingers and how they're going to make you feel.

"Let's get rid of these then," Van says, his fingertips hooking under the waistband of your panties. 

He begins to inch them down your hips, not taking his eyes off you as he does it and there's something about this that builds the tension in such a way that it's almost unbearable. When you feel his fingertips connect with your skin, one skimming over your your sweet spot, your body reacts instantly with a shudder of pleasure.

He leans over you to kiss you again, fingers exploring the folds between your legs, repeatedly flicking over your clit. It feels better than you could ever imagine and you moan softly into his mouth, bucking your hips upwards, chasing his touch as his fingers start to stray away.

"Don't stop," you plead in between kisses.

"Mmm... I have no intention of stopping," he purrs. "Tell me... how does this feel?"

He pushes one finger slowly inside you, followed by another, stretching you out deliciously. You whimper underneath him. "Fuck that feels good..."

You words tail off into passionate sighs and you close your eyes, tipping your head back. His long, slender fingers reach parts of you that you could never hope to, and before long you're writhing on the bed as he pumps them slowly inside you, moving your hips in sync with his motions.

Suddenly his touch disappears, and your eyes flick open. He's hovering over you, eyes glazed over with lust, and you watch as he raises his hand, slipping the fingers he's been pleasuring you with between his lips.

"You taste fucking amazing," he says, licking his fingers clean.

The action simultaneously makes you blush furiously but also stokes the fire that's already burning between your legs. You're so turned on you feel like the lightest touch might make you explode.

"Don't make me wait... please!" You implore, rising up slightly, reaching for his hips, feeling desperate now.

"But I don't wanna rush this, you look too good," he whispers, gently pushing you back down by your shoulders, before placing a sweet kiss on your lips. "In fact I'd say you looked good enough to eat."

Fuck... Your body's pulsing now, the heat between your legs intensifying. Van moves completely off the sofa, his fingers curling around your thighs, easing your body around so he's kneeling in between your splayed legs.

You look down to see him moving closer, and he keeps his eyes on you as he leans in, licking a slow stripe to your aching heat. Then he starts to work you with his tongue, concentrating all his efforts on the sensitive nub of nerves. Watching him pleasure you like this whilst he's looking you right in the eye is probably the single most erotic thing you've ever experienced, but you find that you can't maintain his gaze for long. The sensations are just too powerful and you can feel your eyes rolling back in your head.

"Fucking hell..." you breathe, and he hums an approval, the vibrations travelling through your core, making your body quiver.

You can feel that familiar tight knot starting low down in your belly, sure you'll peak soon, and as if on cue, Van suddenly hoists your legs up on to his shoulders to get even closer. He buries his head between your thighs, lapping relentlessly at your clit, easing two fingers inside you, curving them at a spot that has you seeing stars. You can feeling yourself unravelling at an increasing pace, hurtling towards your climax.

Your hands thread through his hair, tugging it roughly at the roots, losing yourself as the first swell of your orgasm hits you like a hurricane. Then it's wave upon wave of indescribable pleasure, moans falling from your lips, your legs trembling. Van doesn't stop until the last of the shudders wrack your body.

"Oh my god," you breathe, slowing coming back down to earth as Van emerges, leaning towards you with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"That alright then?" He grins cheekily, pulling your dress back over your body to cover you up, then resting his hands across your lap.

"Bloody hell, that was... a bit better than alright!" You say, still panting slightly.

Your body feels wrung out but in the best possible way. Van kneels there looking up at you, hair dishevelled, pupils blown wide, his lips still glossy with your arousal, and you think you might have just been transported to heaven.

"I suppose I should... repay the favour," you say with the most flirtatious of grins, raising your eyebrows at him.

Van's smile mirrors yours as he rises up from the floor, taking his seat next to you on the sofa and wrapping an arm around you, drawing you into a close embrace.

"Oh I'm definitely going to hold you to that love..."

[my-omegaverse-academia]

tv news

Inspired by this post by @animeomegas but it's reversed

You tend not to turn on Hero News channels anymore, to spare your young sons from seeing all of the real violence happening. Even though they were big fans of heroes, they'd been fine with just hearing stories and seeing recaps online—once you made sure they weren't showing someone actively dying in front of their eyes.

But there were days that you needed to be kept up to date.

And today was one of those days.

There was something in the air this morning. You could feel it in your bones.

Katsuki made breakfast as he usually does, while you got the boys ready—an arduous task if you do say so yourself, as your children are five and three respectively.

But it was a routine you settled into happily, loving Katsuki and the two little boys he's given you. It was nice—even moreso with your days off, being able to spend as much time as possible with your kids and being able to treat Katuski to dinner when he gets home.

When he left for his patrol, all three of you kissed him goodbye and stayed indoors, as the rain poured down hard.

The boys will get a kick at how wet daddy will be when he gets home, if it continues this way.

But dinner was hours away. And Kirishima delivered a hauntingly short phone call.

"Turn on the news."

Kirishima almost never calls you during work hours. He respects both his work and yours, knowing that you want to be as out of the loop as possible when it came to the dangers of Katsuki's job.

You already have too many stress dreams and nightmares about what could happen to him or the boys, every intrusive thought playing like a loop. You didn't need any more fuel to the fire.

But fuel was coming, whether you wanted it or not.

The boys were down for an afternoon nap. Tentatively, you turned on the tv, switching to the news network. The volume's low and captions scroll across the screen, allowing you to read it and not wake up the boys.

You can see that the onslaught of heavy rain hasn't lifted in the area, making the attack of the villain much more difficult to navigate.

The sky is grey and lit up by lightning cracking and your mate's explosions, propelling himself off of the fissuring ground and towards the villain duo.

He's not the only one there, but all of the heroes around him aren't as well known, aren't as well trained as Katsuki is.

He's leading the charge and it looks rough.

Civilians crowd around him and the news crew are too close for comfort. Casualties have no doubt happened already. The scene looks like it was pulled from your nightmares.

You're watching so intently that your baby boy has to knock you out of it, sensing your terrified scent and his mimicking yours.

In an instant the television is off and you try to force out a sweeter scent. Something that isn't soured, spoiled, rotten. And with sleep in his eyes, your baby asks you what's wrong.

You can't bare to tell him. So, you grab your phone with several missed phone calls and messages, and leads him back into your shared bedroom with Katsuki, letting the boys slip into Katsuki's nest.

He'll probably gripe about it being messed up, but you let yourself take a breather. And your son's scent reacts to your own. In the nest, both of them go back to sleeping. It'll mess up their schedule, but in all honesty, that's at the least of your priorities.

You take to watching the news on your phone, silent, hoping everything is alright.

Kirishima's on the scene now. So is Mina. They've probably been at the agency, rushing as soon as they saw what happened and told you about it.

Slight relief comes, but having Deku would ease your mind more, not that you'd ever tell Katsuki that. You trust him and his team as much as you can. But the more the merrier, in your opinion.

People are liveblogging the event, sharing what's happening in real time. It's a madhouse online, wondering why other pros aren't coming in, why Deku isn't coming in.

Of all the days to start his maternity leave, it would be the one where Katsuki would need him more than ever.

He's fighting like he always does, but the angry smile and vicious glee are gone. No, he's being scrappy, giving it all he's got. He's not showing off, he's not giving up. And you can only watch from your omega's nest as it all goes down.

Some time later, you get a call from Kirishima. He's sent Deku to watch the boys while you meet him at the hospital.

Leaving your boys behind isn't something you'd do in a normal circumstance, but they don't need to see their dad in whatever mess of wires, burns, and cuts he's received from this fight.

Kirishima said he was knocked out cold from a part of a collapsing building and that you should see him. You should be there when he wakes up.

And you didn't even hesitate, getting in the car, dropping off the boys at Uncle Deku's place, and then speeding to the local hospital, lead to your mate's room.

The scentless body of your lover haunts you. Even with supressants, Katsuki's always has something lingering on him. But nothing. Kirishima tries to calm your sent down with his own, but yours is back to being sour.

He's stuck here, healing with a chance of never waking up again. And all you can do is sit here and wait, like you had been doing all day.

[hush-writes-preg]

Elf anon here!

Alright, let's do this.

We have our poor (or not so poor), heavily pregnant Elf wife. They've been treated very well since their pregnancy was confirmed - fed well, a lot of the usual expected duties eased or removed entirely, most of their days are spent napping or working on baby clothes or embroidery. Particularly as their belly got larger, they've been taking advantage of the indulgence.

It's on one of these slow, sleepy afternoons when they're napping that their husband comes back from a hunt. It was successful - the boar will feed them all for some time, large haunches served at dinner tonight - but they didn't greet him at the door as expected. He doesn't really mind, since it is also expected that they will be tired from growing two of his heirs at once, and he walks into the quiet, dark bedroom where his wife spends most of their time now.

They're napping, due any minute now, enormous belly keeping them sleeping on their side and the fine lawn nightgown - all they could handle at this point, with the weight of pregnancy keeping them warm - not hiding an inch of those curves.

Omegas are made for pleasure, made to be bred, and pregnancy has left them so sensitive, lately - little pussy often engorged with the increased blood flow - it's no surprise that, as the lord disrobes and climbs on top, sliding a hand between their legs to finger them, that they're already damp and quickly grow wet. They moan, reacting to the pleasure even in sleep.

He thinks. His heirs are due any day now. Everything is prepared. He even brought back a boar, already - it'll be good for a celebratory feast. It won't do them any harm if they came soon - like now.

The Elf lord lifts his wife's leg, lines up, and pushes in. His wife wakes with a gasp, then moans as they feel his big cock grinding inside their sensitive channel. It's not as tight, now, walls relaxing and softening to prepare for delivery, but it's still intense with their size difference, and they're so stuffed with babies as is, a big cock pushing in right to the entrance of their womb to fill them even further.

It's a surprisingly affectionate marriage, or maybe it's just novelty and the pleasure of almost instant gratification on the heirs front that has yet to wear off, and the Elf lord has a policy of making sure his wife orgasms - and orgasms hard - every time. Wife doesn't think much of it when he rides them hard, reaches down to rub that engorged little clit, makes sure to grind against their walls in that way that makes them struggle weakly and whine, too heavy with sleep and children to do anything but lie there and take it.

His efforts pay off, and his wife comes hard with a shriek, thrashing under him, pussy squeezing his cock for dear life. Suddenly they moan again, stomach tightening, pussy contracting around the huge cock buried deep and stretching it open. He groans, finally satisfied, and rides them roughly until he comes, their moans under him pure music.

He climbs off and cleans up to summon the midwives, leaving his labouring wife groaning out their next contraction in their bed.

This is hot. Hot and inspiring. Oh boy.

Being fucked into labor is another kink of mine, plus I love the way your elven lord just helps themselves to their spouse's body, nonchalantly fucks them, gets off, and then leaves them there to give birth.

I'm tempted to expand on this and turn it into a full-fledged story, but I don't want to steal your idea, Elf Anon. I really like the way your brain works though!

[mlmxreader]

Homemade Meals and Films | Detective Loki x m!reader

@areyouwaiting asked: well here I am

Det. Loki x male reader

“You’re not eating that shit, I’ll make you something decent” as a prompt because that bitch doesn’t eat right

Thanks <33

summary: Loki has shit eating habits, but you've finally got an excuse to change that.

tws: swearing, mentions of smoking

Admittedly, when he was working, Loki ate like shit. He also slept like it. Black coffee and occasional snacks throughout the day weren't exactly any good for him, neither were cigarettes and cans of Red Bull. Sure, he could have easily gotten something a little better, or at least filling, at any of the fast food and takeaway places that were around, as they were open for a good chunk of the day and they were nice and cheap, but Loki rarely ever went there; usually, he found himself sat in the same cafe drinking the same shit as always. He never ate properly, never drank properly, he never slept properly; every day, he would come home to you in the exact same state. Hungry. Tired. Looking like a bag of shit that had been dragged through a bush backwards. In all the years you had known him, and in all the years since that you had been dating, you had always wanted to change that; you wanted to make sure that he was properly fed, that he wasn't just drinking black coffee and that he was actually getting some fucking sleep, but you had never gotten the chance.

Until tonight. Until he came home at quarter past two in the morning, when the air was cold and the wind was howling and the rain was on tap, when the streets were quiet and the biggest worry you had was making sure that the television would pause before 'Train to Busan' started on the film channel. You made sure that you had everything set up just right; the bedding changed and still warm from the tumble dryer, the scent of leather coating the air in the room, the lights turned off except for the little lamp that sat in the corner, the duvet chucked on the sofa as the television froze when you pressed the pause button. The film would start in half an hour. Pots and pans on the stove as you decided that you would make the thing that would be best for him: a good strong curry. Thankfully you had enough spices and herbs that it would actually taste of something and that it would actually have a kick to it instead of that mild bullshit people often had. A good strong curry; filling, good for the body, and good for the mind.

Loki came home just as you were pulling the vegetables out, laying them in order beside the wooden chopping board; he didn't think much of it, draping himself across your back and kissing your neck sweetly as he grumbled so softly. "What are you doing?"

"I know you went to the café," you started, grabbing a peeled onion and starting to chop it up. "And you're not eating that shit, I'll make you something decent - I'm gonna make you a curry."

He smiled, nuzzling into the back of your neck as he closed his eyes and grumbled again, ever so faint and ever so soft; he could smell the spices already, making his stomach growl as he did his best not to complain about it. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, and he could feel the slight shiver from the winter air begin to creep its way up, making him clench his jaw. "What kinda curry?"

"It's a veggie Phaal," you told him. "It'll be good for you, trust me."

"How?"

"It's filling," you started, "so it'll fill your stomach more than black coffee and fucking snacks. It's balanced and nutritious... and it's good for the mind."

Loki grumbled again. "How?"

"It tastes good," you chuckled softly. "And stuff that tastes good is always good for the mind... but don't worry - there's a horror film on tonight, so I figured, y'know, we could snuggle down after eating. Watch it together. I brought the duvet down, too."

He couldn't stop the smile that came to him as he turned around and looked at the sofa; the thick duvet smothering it, the frozen television screen, he recognised the lumps of pillows beneath the duvet, too. "Thank you."

"It's not a big deal," you scoffed. "I mean, I'm your boyfriend - isn't it part of the territory that I gotta look after you?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Then go sit down," you told him gently. "Get yourself comfortable, and we'll eat, watch a film, and then go to bed."

All Loki could do was nod as he dared to pull away from you, thinking to himself how lucky he was that he had such a caring boyfriend as he got himself comfortable amongst the duvet and the pillows; maybe one day, there would be a canopy in your future. Maybe one day, there would be a glass to step on. Maybe. If you put up with him long enough.

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

[the-devil-hunter63]

This has been living in my head rent free because I'm down bad for Paz Vizsla and now I'm just gonna leave this here for y'all....heeheeheehee

Ok so like imagine, Din is trying to be an inclusive Mand'alor for the scattered mandalorians, right. You and Paz are helping him try to reunite the people. And like Paz is secretly head over heels (or head over blasters lol) for you and vice versa. Y'all have been pinning after each other since your covert/clan/tribe joined up with them years ago.

Imagine Din, Paz, and you go to meet up with a covert/clan/tribe to get them to join hands and follow Din and just be Mandalorians without the whole in fighting thing of "if you don't follow my creed you're not mandalorian". The covert/clan/tribe agrees, and while you are with the foundlings and/or making friends Paz is like "I'm gonna fucking court them finally when we get back home" to Din and Din is fucking ecstatic because you know damn well he knows of the crush you two have on each other and has been meddling in it to get y'all together.

There's gonna be a mini feast/celebration before they let you 3 leave because why not. Everyone is happy about the joining of coverts/clans/tribes. There's hella food, drinks, and fun! You and Paz are obviously sitting next to each other because of Din. Everyone is taking turns swapping tales of valor or some shit when there's an explosion.

You can't convince me otherwise that a Mandalorians first instinct is to get children and loved ones to safety. So Paz has as many foundlings in his arms as he can carry and is running towards ships. This man, without hesitation, went straight to the children with you in tow. He doesn't care who is in his way of protecting the foundlings, they will die violently. You're just there to make sure he doesn't scare the children.

Pure chaos ensues. Din gives the covert/clan/tribe coordinates to their new home as everyone is running around to leave. There's a small fire fight and Paz gets shot protecting you. Nothing too bad, according to Mandalorian standards; just a blaster wound on his side.

"Don't worry Mesh'la, it'll take more than that to take me away from you." And you're a blushing mess as you help the big idiot to his feet. Ships are already taking off as y'all scramble into one with foundlings, supplies, and a few elders. Luckily Din was flying this ship.

You and Paz are at the opening of the ship firing away at the attackers as you scream for Din to, "get his womprat ass into gear and this bucket of bolts into the air!" Paz laughs with you as the foundlings watch you two hold your ground.

After a few bumps, Paz smacks the side of the ship and tells Din to close the ramp. Paz turns to you, places his hand on your shoulder and, even though you can't see it, he smiles. You place your hand over his with a small nod. He's gonna open his mouth to speak when something hits the ship with a mild explosion. Paz falls, somehow smacks his bucket and falls out the ship. You scream at the top of your lungs for him.

"I'm going after paz!" Is all you say over your voice channel before jumping from the ship as the ramp fully closes. Din obviously yells at you as you make a fast nose dive for him.

Once you catch up to a knocked TF out Paz, you latch onto his large frame as best you can before igniting your jetpack. It slows the fall but not a lot. You both crash into trees before landing on the ground.

So, now not only are you both hurt, you're both stranded for maker knows how long before Din can come save you. So you two do what Mandalorians do best; survive and tough it out. You make a small makeshift shelter for the first two nights and slowly pick off people surveying for any Mandalorians left behind from the evacuation. Eventually you two find a little cave that makes for better shelter and set up there.

Paz is grumpy and you're exhausted. While sitting around the fire cooking local game, you tell Paz to eat first so he can take off his helmet and get up to leave.

Paz of course stops you. He can't believe he's doing this now but hey, fuck it. He directs you to sit next to him with a shaky breath because this boi is nervous asf.

"Look, there's a way around me having to cover my face." He'll grab your hand gently before heaving a DEEP sigh. With his other hand, Paz will hand you his large vibroblade.

You're confused at first. Why is he handing you a blade? Part of you thinks his creed has a sibbling rule and he's gonna make you become family in a way that makes your stomach become heavy and heart hurt.

"Marry me. I wanted to do this when we got back from this...I've been in love with you for....a while now."

HE IS SO NERVOUS but you sit there and let him ramble on and on about how the Vizsla clan has special traditions and one of them is giving their love or potential Riduur something that was theirs as a sign of affection; a marriage token if one must. His vibroblade is the best thing he has on him at the moment.

You hold the blade over your Beskaryc Kar'ta (Iron heart at the center of Mandalorian armor)

"Vizsla, I want nothing more than to be your Riduur and raise strong and fierce warriors with you."

Paz.exe has stopped working

He is so excited to hear those words leave your mouth that it takes a moment for his brain to catch up.

He will hold you close to him as you both recite the Mandalorian vows and give you a Keldabe kiss.

"When we get off this planet, I'm going through all of the Vizsla courting traditions the right way." You laugh and shake your head slightly.

But as he goes to remove his helmet you turn away and tell him to save showing you his face for later. He'll try to argue you but will eventually just cave and let you turn your back to him as he eats.

Once y'all finally get rescued from that planet, Paz does as he said he would. He goes through all the Vizsla courtship traditions.

He presented you with his vibroblade once again infront of the entire covert/clan/tribe. After which he brought you foods from his hunts, a new blaster, and a few battle trinkets.

The entire covert/clan/tribe is excited. It's been a while since everyone has seen a proper Mandalorian courtship and marriage. Everyday is someone congratulating you and Paz, or helping plan the whole affair.

After the vows were exchanged....again....there was a MASSIVE celebration. Everyone was eating and drinking to celebrate the new couple. The partying went on for hours and probably continued well after you and Paz retired for the night.

He showed you his face as well before capturing your lips in a heated and passionate kiss.

"Been wanting to do that since your covert/clan/tribe joined us. I fell for you the moment your bucket came off to yell at Din." You laugh and pepper his face with kisses as well.

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum"

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner Riduur"

After a fun night with ya new hubby imagine falling asleep on his chest and Paz is still slightly awake running his fingers through your hair (or grazing his finger over your skin if you have no hair or hella short hair)

[mayasdeluca]

When Station 19 was on at 8pm it led into Grey's and I think people were like meh, might as well stick around because let's be honest Grey's with the new interns turned into white noise. (I still don't know their names). I would love to see how the numbers jump from Greys for the night when people only tune in for Station 19 at 10pm.

And even then, Grey's numbers dropped significantly and Station 19 would beat them on a weekly basis so people were watching Station 19 and then changing the channel when Grey's came on lol...it really just isn't doing what it used to do and isn't the show is used to be and hasn't been for years but for some reason they are trying to hang onto it by a thread. I am really curious how the numbers are going to end up being for all 3 shows now...they are doing everything and anything to go all in on 911 (I've already seen the promo on TV while having the channel on for football and other stuff like multiple times already) which I guess makes sense for them since it's their new show on the network and they want everyone to watch it but I don't expect Grey's to do any better (if anything it'll probably do worse since the show is still stagnant) and now it doesn't even have it's spin-off show to lead in, it's just a random show...and I just really hope Station 19 can still pull decent numbers at 10pm despite ABC clearly putting them there to set them up for failure.

[brettsey-two-tts]

Title: Don't give up on us

Brettsey

After Stella and Severide's wedding, they decide to take a break. They think it's for the better. They think it'll help them make whatever decision they'll need to make. They tell each other, right before Matt jumps on his flight back to Oregon, that they'll talk to each other in two weeks, thinking their decision will come by then.

Matt can barely get through the first day. When he gets home that evening, his first instinct is to call his girlfriend to let her know he got home okay and to tell her he misses her, but as he holds his phone in his hand, his shoulders slump at the remembrance of their relationship status. He decides to simply text her that he got home. She replies a few minutes later, telling him to have a good day at work tomorrow. It's a simple reply and nothing short of casual which is what he hates. He doesn't want a normal reply. He wants to see the ridiculous amount of heart emojis she adds at the end of her sentences and the promise to FaceTime him later.

An hour after dinner, Ben is still lounging in the living room, watching whatever show he landed on after some channel surfing. He sees the time on his phone and realizes it's almost time for Matt and Sylvie's phone call to each other. He doesn't want to intrude on their conversation or hear any grossly cute things they often say to each other, so, out of habit, he turns off the television. As he's about to head to his room, he sees Matt at the dining table. He's hunching over some work reports and flipping through other papers to his right.

Ben checks his phone again and looks confused at the time. It was almost three minutes past their usual call time.

"Matt?"

Matt looks up expectantly and smiles. "Yes, Ben. What's up?"

Ben furrows his brows. "Aren't you supposed to be calling Sylvie right now?"

That's when Matt's smile falls. He explains to Ben what happened while he was in Chicago. While he was there for his best friend's wedding and while he did have a fantastic time, he and Sylvie still had to address some things about their relationship. He feels his heart drop to his stomach when Ben starts to say how happy Sylvie looked to be spending a couple months with them. He ends with his confusion about the whole thing. He doesn't understand why they decided to take a break and Matt doesn't blame him. Ben and Griffin saw his relationship with Sylvie firsthand and they were nothing but observant about how happy they looked together. As Griffin once told him, it was like they were seeing a whole other side of Matt whenever Sylvie was visiting.

"So, that's it?" Ben asks with some anger in his tone. He looks visibly upset as he continues, "You guys are just going to... stop?"

Matt blinks; he was taken aback by Ben's sudden outburst. "I mean, we're going to talk again in a couple of weeks to make a real decision."

Ben wears a lopsided frown. "What happened to wanting to spend the rest of your life with her?" Matt's eyebrows raise. He said those words to Sylvie in private, but then again, the walls in the house were thin. "What happened to leaning on each other no matter what time of day? You promised nothing would change."

"Ben--"

"Yeah, okay, I know, I shouldn't eavesdrop but it's kind of hard not to when the walls are super thin and I'm trying to text my friends or do my homework. Are you really going to let her leave? Are you not going to fight for her?"

Matt's back straightened at the questions, realizing that they were really good questions and ones that he should've asked himself when they decided to take a break in the first place.

"What happens when she's walking down the aisle to some other guy and you're sitting in the crowd wishing it was you? What happens when she's already in another relationship and you start to regret everything?"

And maybe that's the kick in the ass he needed. Maybe, just maybe, that's the imagery he needed all along because the thought of Sylvie in another relationship and walking down the aisle for some other guy makes him sick to his stomach. The thought of hearing her laugh as she's dancing in her wedding dress with someone other than him makes him upset. And yes, he did promise nothing would change.

He takes a flight out the morning he leaves shift. He's at her doorstep in five hours. When he knocks on her door, he has a whole speech ready but when the doors open and he sees her hair in a messy bun with loose curls framing her face, wearing a large t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of black nightshorts, he forgets everything entirely.

"I'm not giving up on us, Sylvie," he tells her. "I don't want us to be on a break, I don't want us to re-evaluate our relationship, and I don't want to fall in love with anyone else. I want you. Only you."

She feels bad that he took a flight just to say that to her and tells him that he could've called her, but he replies that it wouldn't be right to say it over the phone. He tells her that saying it in person would make it more meaningful, more serious, and more true because he does want all those things he told her over the phone. He does want to spend the rest of his life with her, he does want to move in with her when he moves back to Chicago, he does want her to lean on him when she needs to, and he does want her to call him her home.

And just like he did when they were walking on the street outside of Molly's, he sealed everything with a long, heartstopping, kiss.

[fuzzydreamin]

for the character development asks, 1, 11, 12, 14, and 18 for nora and al?

1. What was the first element of your OC that you remember considering (name, appearance, backstory, etc.)? 

With Nora it was mostly about sitting back and looking at everything that happens/you can do in the game and going "what the fuck kind of person goes through all this and is made to make these decisions?" and then deciding to look at every scrap of canon background information we get on Nate and Nora and build up more of my own version of the character from there. As for chosing Nora over Nate, I was just always far more drawn to the female option and seeing the story through her lens over Nate's.

Alberta was a similar story but more in the back end of thinking how young and naieve the Lone Wanderer was and how fucked up they must be from everything they went through, as well as both some of the similarities and larger differences in the stories of 3 and 4, and how it might go down if Nora were to meet that person post their own story - like a bit of a warped mirror / warning for how things can turn out badly even if you think you've won or done the right thing. From there I use them to patch up some story stuff with the Brotherhood since Nora's cut off from them at the point Al is introduced and worked my way backwards to their start, doing the same thing with looking into all of the 'canon' info we are given from the game to build off of (I like building off starting bases).

So, in both cases the I guess the story came first, but Nora already had a physical appearance while Al didn't have set looks or a name for awhile.

11. Did you know what the OC’s sexuality would be at the time of their creation?

✪ Nora: Yup. Bisexual + Poly was always going to be a thing for her, both because I just tend to make my OC's Bi as default sorta but also because the game lets you romance multiple/all companions too, so I'm taking that as (her) canon.

That said, as far as romance goes, she's still not going to romance all of the companions, and there's one or two where I really have to write their relationship progression to know for sure how it'll turn out in the end.

✝ Alberta: Wasn't as easily set in stone but I still knew that they'd be androsexual and not poly but having problems with sticking to monogamy for other reasons. I knew the basics of it but there's been other aspects that have grown as I've thought about them and their past.

12. What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)?

I am a very... tired... individual, so a lot of the time doing most anything can be difficult honestly, and it takes me way longer than I think it should to get anything done. However, I do generally find writing easier when I get into it, and I don't do edits or anything so I guess drawing usually wins out as the hardest thing, especially because I feel like I never get what I wanted to do or how things should look right anyway.

14. If you had to narrow it down to 2 things that you MUST keep in mind while working with your OC, what would those things be?

It's hard to say anything that I absolutely must keep in mind. I sort of just know the characters, but also I don't mind if they go a little off-script because maybe it should be that way then? It's like when I write I'm mostly just channeling what needs to/should/will happen, and when they do go off-script I usually just continue to write it out and then see if it still fits after - if not then I snip it and put it in a spare document in case I still want to revisit whatever happened there.

If I had to say anything it would be that Nora is prideful and intelligent but wants to be good/nice and help others, and Al has a penchant for mistrust and dumb decisions/self-destruction.

18. What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC?

It's hard to say. At this point I know these two pretty well, and when I do come up with new things they are usually a culmination of other pieces of them that I've already put together - like adding another link in a chain or something, these discoveries just don't stand out on their own anymore.

I might have larger discoveries still sometime in the future, as I actually write their stories down more, but right now there's nothing big enough for me to recall.

[mrsgreenworld]

So, after having seen Duy Beni bölüm 10 fragman, I wasn't actually surprised. A little disappointed that they'd go with suicide blackmail plot - yes. But it is what it is. So an idea for a one-shot came to my mind. I'm sure it'll turn out being canon divergence because whatever happens between Kanat and Ekim after Melisa threatens to jump off a cliff won't go like this.

I don't own the show or any of the characters. They belong to the writers, production company and the channel. This is only fanfiction.

_____________________________________________

Eternity At Our Feet

Ekim looks down at Kanat's outstretched hand, the bracelet she gave him just a few hours ago hanging loosely from his fingers. The bracelet hasn't even stayed around his wrist for one full day. Not even one goddamn day! Ekim feels a strange mix of a hysterical laugh, a scream and a sob bubble up in her throat.

She should've seen that coming, should've known better.

"He'll hurt you. He cannot love like normal people do", Hazal's words come back to ring in Ekim's head loudly.

Hazal... Offf, Hazal... Why have you allowed me to get close to him, to get to know him, to fall in love with him?

Ekim shakes the thought off immediately. It wasn't Hazal's fault. It wasn't even Kanat's.

Ekim risks a glance up, at Kanat's face and into his eyes. She sees it clearly: how much it hurts him to hurt her. Without taking her eyes off of Kanat's, Ekim hooks her fingers around the thread of Kanat's bracelet and pulls. The bracelet falls into her palm. Still maintaining eye contact, she blindly tugs and pulls at her own bracelet, until it's off her wrist. Only when both of their bracelets are heavy in her palm, does Ekim drop her eyes to look at simple pieces of jewelry.

"So much for eternity and taking on the world together, huh?" Ekim mutters quietly but loud enough for Kanat to hear her.

"Ekim..." Kanat tries and takes a step closer to Ekim but she moves away and out of his grasp.

She lets the bracelets slid from her hand. Kanat's eyes are immediately drawn to the grass at their feet and their promise to each other that hasn't lived a day. His face is twisted in so much pain that Ekim almost gives in to the urge to comfort him. But then she remembers that the hole in her chest is his doing.

"You said that we're friends. This won't change, will it? At least I'll get to have you as my friend, right?" Kanat asks hopefully.

Ekim hates it that she has to crush his hope. She shakes her head:

"No, Kanat. We are not and won't be friends. We won't be anything to each other. I think we both know that Melisa won't allow me to stay in your life. Or at school".

"Well, she doesn't get to control our lives! It's not up for her to decide!"

"But it is! And she does control our lives! She controls you!"

Kanat opens his mouth as if to argue but Ekim doesn't let him:

"Don't you dare deny it! It's just a fact. We're here right now because of this one simple fact".

Ekim sees all the fight leave Kanat. He looks defeated and resigned.

"You're right. But it's not because I still have feelings for her. I... never had any romantic feelings for her. We've known each other our whole lives. And at some point it just became something more for her".

"Kanat. Stop it, please. I don't want to hear it. Don't make it harder than it already is".

And it's so unbelievably hard. Why is everything this way with them? Love shouldn't be like this. Love is supposed to be a beautiful thing that makes you happy. Ekim doesn't feel happy. She feels like someone shot her, then stabbed her, then set her on fire from within. And it gets ten times worse when Ekim looks at Kanat because she sees the same agony reflected on his face.

"What happens now?" Kanat asks.

"Well, you made your choice. And I..."

"And you?" Kanat prompts.

"I just need to survive today. Then get through the night. And, hopefully, tomorrow I'll know what to do".

Kanat nods in understanding.

"Will you, please..." he starts but Ekim cuts him off.

"No. What I decide to do next isn't your concern. Not anymore".

Kanat's jaw flexes and Ekim can see him biting the inside of his cheek. She knows that everything in him wants to fight her on this. He's holding himself back and Ekim appreciates the effort.

"I have to go. I'll see you when I see you", Ekim offers weakly.

Kanat just nods, tears in his eyes. Ekim can feel her own start burning. She drops her gaze and, before she turns to walk away, catches a glimmer of the eternity symbols on their bracelets. Eternity couldn't be more fleeting.

[mmmthornton]

i lost my best friend when my radfem beliefs became a problem with her sister who's in a relationship with someone who calls herself nonbinary. it hurt so bad to be thrown away. but its been about 9 months since it happened and it's probably for the best but damn i had not that many friends to begin with and its lonely. any ideas on how to make new friends?

Ahh, I'm so sorry. I mean what I said in the post, but I don't want to sound like I'm dismissing how much heartbreak can come out of friend breakups regardless of the reasons. I had a real 'cis'ter in terfery* at one point, and when we parted ways it involved a radical shift in my personal, living situation, and home lives all at once! I feel for you a lot because of this.

First step I would recommend is to give yourself a chance to grieve if you haven't already. Whatever you feel about the relationship ending, give yourself room to feel those emotions in a safe and/or private way. Not really like, hiding them from others, just using a journal or some creative outlet. The main thing is to not be ashamed of those feelings because it'll make the next steps harder than they have to be. Nine months out, you may already have a handle on that part but if not here's your reminder to do that.

The next and really only other step that I suggest is to go out of your way to say "yes" to things. Thats one of those things you read on a tea bag and its so much simpler to say than to just, immediately apply to your life, but when you break it down and start making a habit of applying it to your behavior it gets a lot easier to stick to. You didn't give specifics about your age or where you life or what your situation is, so I'm going to keep on the general side but I still want to get across what I mean as something you can practically do. A normal person in a normal routine walks around turning stuff down pretty constantly and passively when we don't need or want to introduce a change in our day-to-day. What you're trying to do here is deliberately change up your routine to something that brings the kind of people we want in our lives, and you might not know exactly WHAT that looks like yet.

Opportunities to say yes to things might look completely different depending on who you are or where you're at, but I'm going to give you a super helpful little phrase to say to yourself when you start to see these: "I could try that."

Someone in your work Slack channels suggests starting a book club for a book that's on the bestseller list, but is from a genre you don't read? Yeah, I could try that.

Your school is looking for volunteers to help set up a student orientation event? Sure I could give it a shot.

You come home one day to a gift left by a mysterious rugby angel that includes a pair of cleats in your size, a tournament-regulation rugby ball, and a coupon for a mouth guard? Okay I could try this.

I think a lot of advice is like "Go to movie screenings where people you like might be hanging out!" and I think, while well-intentioned, its kind of missing a key part in why that would be a good plan lol. It doesn't matter so much the thing you say yes (or even a begrudging "i'll try") to, and its not like you're making a list of qualities in a future friend to check off. You're giving yourself the flexibility to branch out, learning more about what you benefit from and who you want to keep in your life. Maybe you'll go to three rugby practices and not get anything else from it but some cool bruises, or maybe you'll play D&D one day because the boyfriend of a friend of a friend has been DYING to try DM'ing so you humor him, and then ten years later you don't talk to almost anyone from that original campaign but you're a part of several different groups of friends who play and they're all from different circles, and you would never have that connection with this number of people today if you weren't willing to say "I could be this other person who plays tabletop games even if I haven't been that person yet. I'm open to the opportunity."

I hope this is helpful; you're already being honest about who you are and that is a wonderful place to start from. You got this, anon!

[miscellaneoussmp]

This idea came to me in a dream, so I hope this is good. Anyway, here's Cellbit finding a missing poster:

Cellbit had decided to investigate one of the abandoned Federation buildings, wanting to see if it held any answers. He doubts it, but some clues are better than none. There's a desk with papers and a computer, this building seems to he nothing more than an office. He takes pictures of the desk and anything he thinks might be important later. The power in the building flickers occasionally, but it doesn't bother him much as he looks through the papers on the desk. All of them seem to be relatively normal paperwork, except two papers catch Cellbit's eyes. The lights flicker again before he can get a good look.

It takes him a minute longer than it should for him to realize he was looking at missing posters. Written on one of the posters in pen was a password, assumably for the computer in the room. As Cellbit was taking pictures of the posters, his blood ran cold as he realized who the posters were for. One of them featured a younger version of him and what looked to be a young version of Bagi. Neither featured a name, only a photo, a description, and a paragraph begging for help in finding them. It was written in Portuguese. Cellbit starts to feel a bit dizzy as this sudden revelation that he went missing at some point in his life. He shakes his head to ground himself. He has work to do.

As Cellbit has a finger on the computer's power button, he prays that it'll turn on. Thankfully, it does. It asks for a password, and Cellbit uses the one on his missing poster. There's a chat in front of him. He scrolls up, hoping to find the start of the conversation.

[Redacted]: They're the perfect candidates; twins.

[Redacted]: Shouldn't we talk in the Main Channel?

[Redacted]: It should be fine.

[Redacted]: Whatever you say. Where you'd find these two anyway? There's no names associated with anything you'd sent me.

[Redacted]: That's the point. They're nameless, easy to make disappear. They've already done it once. Currently, they're being held by their country's justice system.

[Redacted]: Why?

[Redacted]: One's a serial killer. The other, she was accessory in all of it plus a list of smaller crimes.

[Redacted]: And you want them here? Can't you find an easier set of twins to access?

[Redacted]: Like I said, they're easy to make disappear. Their criminal records make that even easier. Nobody will miss them.

[Redacted]: The missing posters you sent me say otherwise, but alright. Let's get the sister here first. Say this is some type of rehabilitation center. We'll get the brother later.

[Redacted]: On it.

Cellbit tried taking pictures of all the chat, hoping that the words were readable. Though his thoughts were elsewhere while he was reading. Suddenly a memory he didn't even know he had made sense. In some old gas station bathroom, he can't remember why he was there in the first place. He had been washing his hands when an older man came up to the sink. The man had looked surprised when he saw Cellbit. He had said something about Cellbit, nameless at the time, being 'the kid from the posters'. He remembers running out of the bathroom quickly, not wanting to be caught then and there. Cellbit, now, realizes that man might have been talking about the missing posters. He holds both posters. Evidence.

The chat continued, and Cellbit continued to take photos. This time it seems more recent.

[Redacted]: This channel is old. I'm surprised it's still archived.

[Redacted]: Anyway, #0001, henceforth known as Bagi, managed to find a way off the island around five to six years ago now. We have classified her as Missing/Uncertain.

[Redacted]: We have managed to bring Bagi's twin counterpart, henceforth known as Cellbit, to the island just as planned originally. He is just as difficult as previously assumed.

[Redacted]: We are working on bringing Bagi back to the island, but it is difficult to track her down again.

Cellbit's blood still ran cold within his veins. Him ending up here was planned this whole time? It wasn't some accident on his part getting too into an investigation on a docked cargo ship. This has been planned for years. Maybe knowing this is key to getting off the island? Bagi did it once. Maybe she could do it again, with everyone in tow this time. He slides the posters into the album with the pictures. Cellbit tries to ignore the feeling of being watched as he gets out of there. He came here for clues and left with more questions, as is the nature of the island.

[blueheartedmayor]

Uno reverse card

Behind closed doors for Dante and Moira :3c

Behind Closed Doors (I reblogged it once for all three accounts but it's accepted here too. It'll be super slow though.)

@xshatteredreflectionsx

-

It was a formal gathering, but one a little different from the ones Damien would have to attend. It was hosted by a dear patron, and the atmosphere was light and cheerful. It was a breath of fresh air for all the guests. Anything was better than those stuffy events where every answer is a move on an unseen chess board.

In fact, Moira was enjoying herself. As Damien's plus-one, she was an outsider to the group, yet had found herself tugged onto the dancefloor by an older gentleman who was surprisingly agile for his age. Damien watched on from the bar, amusement playing on his lips, before the host approached him.

"I didn't think you would ever bring a guest to one of my parties, Damien." She claimed the bar stool beside him. "Here was me thinking you would never share that secret with me." Of course, she was only teasing him, knowing that the reason was not as nefarious as she was making it out to be.

"I do know that, Margaret. And truthfully, I've been meaning to bring Moira to one of these for some time. She's simply been very busy, and I would hate to distract her from her work. It's taken a lot for her to get this far."

They both turned their attention to the dancefloor in time to see the lawyer of the hour being spun around in an ungraceful, clumsy manner.

"You two met through work, I take it?"

"No, no. She's an old friend from university. The first friend I'd made for myself, by myself. I don't know where I would be without her. She has seen me at my best, and at my worst. She taught me how to live beyond the confines of the world I grew up in. She helped me see that there was still good in people; that I wasn't 'odd' like I always thought. She even bore witness to me being intoxicated for the first time, and relentlessly made fun of me the morning after when I couldn't lift my head off the table." His smile was sweet and more sentimental. "If I'm honest, there's no one I'd rather have by my side, and that's even beating my own sister out of that position."

"She sounds like a keeper."

"I suppose you could say that. She's my best friend, and she means more to me than anyone else in the whole world." Dark brown eyes were focused on the attempted dancing. No one had fallen, and that was a miracle. But he missed the way Margaret gave a breathless laugh and rolled her eyes. Oh dear...

BONUS:

-

"Permit me the opportunity to avoid some sort of 'story' to set the scene as is the norm here. Not only would it be forced, it would be wholly fake. I think it would be better to be honest with you directly. I wouldn't dream of speaking any of this out loud to anyone.

I loved her. I'm sure the choice of story prior to this showed as much. But I was a fool who was oblivious to the meaning of the messages drumming in his heart. I grew up in a loveless family environment. Love stared me in the face and I didn't do a thing about it. I felt this - this warmth in my chest when I was with her. I didn't understand fully what it meant. Instead, I channelled it into something platonic - or fooled myself into thinking it was familial, as was the case with the only friends I had ever known. Everything would be alright, if she was there. That's how it felt, anyway.

Choices were a luxury for me. I knew I wanted my life partner to be my decision, and no one else's. Mayhaps that was why I didn't see the obvious. There were so many risks in a relationship that had to be secret to the whole world. I was already scared of losing her friendship if my parents met her and deemed her 'unworthy'. It would have increased tenfold if that relationship had differed.

Now... Nothing would ever happen. Even if - even if somehow I can undo these disasters that have happened to her, it won't change what I did. I don't deserve her forgiveness, and I definitely don't deserve her love - if she even still saw me that way. And even if she did... I'm not even sure I have yet regained the ability to feel love. Regaining your own sense of self and your humanity is a slower process that simply snapping out of a trance. That's a tale for another time, I'm sure. Or, maybe it won't be.

To get back on track... If there was one thing I wished I could do, it would be to go back with a message. Not to warn myself of the manor. Not to tell Moira to feign illness to guilt me into leaving early the morning after... But I would go back to the university days. I would tell myself to run away with her. My family would not have been able to hunt me as I had feared they would. I could have disappeared, became a nobody, and learned to live as - well, as someone ought to. Mayhaps feel a proper sense of freedom for the first time in my miserable existence.

All I can do is try and find a way to liberate her. I know it won't magically undo a century of torment that was caused by my hands. I know it won't set everything right. But at the very least it will allow two people to feel like they can try and get their lives back on track."

[kudosmyhero]

The Amazing Spider-Man (vol. 3) #8: Ms. Adventures in Babysitting

Read Date: April 10, 2023 Cover Date: December 2014 ● Writer: Dan Slott ◦ Christos N. Gage ● Penciler: Giuseppe Camuncoli ● Inker: Cam Smith ● Colorist: Antonio Fabela ● Letterer: Chris Eliopoulos ● Editor: Nick Lowe ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● while I wish Slott's stories got a little deeper (such as what 10 years of near solitary confinement should have done to Cindy Moon's psyche, etc.), he does do a good job with the light-hearted, flippant side of things

● "…staying with Peter is not an option. Not when every time we're together we act like teenagers on prom night." -- no. worse. you act much worse than that. it was amusing at first but it lost its novelty real fast. ● are we critiquing what Silk wears just because she's a woman? either way, it prompts her to try something else, so we'll see how that looks when it's revealed here in a min. ● ok, who's this baby, then? ● a henchman with a change of heart. huh. ● ok, Silk's new costume looks pretty good. at least it doesn't look like it'll fall off her at any moment. ● so how did the baby get in the cocoon? is this a case of "I should have remembered what happened in the last issue"? because… ADHD. ● aww, Big Brother Spider-Man is kinda adorbs ● o_o oh my… the henchman is Clayton Cole/Clash?? wow. nice.

● aww, Spidey gave Cole a business card to Parker Industries. I hope Cole makes good on his second chance. it's an all-too-real glimpse at the struggles people with a record face.

● ok, new story. Earth-982. Mayday Parker. oof, a gut-punch already. ● 👏👏👏👏

Synopsis: As Spidey battles Dr. Minerva, he sees how Kamala is frozen in shock since she still lacks the experience for this kind of situation. He appeals to her fandom for Carol in order to snap her out of the shock by using the "Slingshot" maneuver he created with Carol. Kamala wants to keep fighting, suggesting they try a "Fastball Special" next, but Spidey tells her that they must focus on retrieving the cocoon. As they approach, one of the thugs complains that he accepted the job because Minerva wasn't an enemy of Spider-Man (since he refuses to take any jobs that involves Spider-Man), but takes advantage of the situation so he can modify his Sonic Scanner into a weapon. Spidey and Kamala try to escape with the cocoon, but Kamala's size makes her an easy target, and as she fights against Minerva the cocoon starts to hatch.

Meanwhile, as Cindy Moon ponders on her rent status, she is called to assist Natalie Long at the Fact Channel. Natalie reviews the battle between Silk and Electro and considers making her their "exclusive" just like the Bugle did with Spider-Man, but criticizes Silk's outfit as tacky. Just as Natalie gets a report on two crimes, one being Spidey's battle, Cindy escapes to deal with the other situation, determined to become the Fact Channel's exclusive by making herself a new outfit.

The cocoon hatches revealing a seemingly human baby inside, which Kamala takes to keep him safe while Spidey battles Minerva. The henchmen take down Kamala while she keeps the baby safe, but as she confronts them one of the henchmen turns against the rest, showing moral qualms about attacking someone carrying a baby. The henchman takes off his mask so that he won't scare the baby and then joins Spider-Man, who explains that Kamala knows everything about the Kree thanks to her knowledge of Carol Danvers, while the henchman is a local. This prompts Spidey to ask Minerva if she is indeed working for the Kree Empire, since it's rare that she's using local people instead of Kree Soldiers, and Minerva insists that her activities are fully sanctioned by the Kree Empire. Spidey fakes a call to Jarvis in Avengers Tower to ask the Kree if they know about Minerva's activities in order to call her bluff, which succeeds, forcing her her escape the site.

At the other robbery site, The Ringer attempts to escape, only to be taken down quickly by Silk, making her first appearance in her new outfit in front of Natalie Long and the cameras of the Fact Channel, saying that it was time for a change.

Spidey and Kamala bring the baby to the hospital so he can be taken care of with his parents. Kamala worries since they don't know what powers she might have, but Spider-Man insists that they love her and that will be a good start. He says he has to leave to make an alert at Avengers Tower about Minerva and compliments Kamala, seeing a reflection of his past self when he was a teenage superhero dealing with the double life. He encourages her, saying that she'll do fine, then confronts the henchman, who swears that he was trying to find legit work but nobody wants to hire a man with a criminal record since juvie, only to be stunned when Spidey recognizes him as Clayton Cole, his first rival, formerly known as Clash, which surprised Clayton. Spidey sees that Clayton really wants to go straight and change his life, but no one wants to hire a man with "Supervillain since fifteen" on their resume, so he gives him a card from Parker Industries, claiming that Parker believes in second chances and to tell him he sent him. He takes it and by the next day he is officially hired into Peter's company. Peter reflects that his company now gives him great power and great responsibility to help depower and reform former villains.

(https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Amazing_Spider-Man_Vol_3_8)

Fan Art: Spider-Man and Ms. Marvel by drawerofdrawings

Accompanying Podcast: ● Amazing Spider Talk - episode 08

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 3c

*Warning Adult Content*

Alpha Energy - Part 3

- Everett -

Everett is standing by the dresser munching noisily on a bag of chips while Knox remakes the bed.

Had they met under different circumstances, Everett would've gleefully thrown himself at Knox.

The man is his exact type, tall enough to climb, muscular for days, sinfully attractive and badass to the core.

It's a shame the universe or whoever the hell is in charge, brought them together like this.

They're two opposites who teeter on the line of ripping each other's heads off instead of their clothes.

Only time will tell if they can ever become friends.

"How did you become a member of a motorcycle club?"

Everett moves to plop down on the left side of the bed after Knox has finished with it.

"Can anyone join, or is it like an invitation-only type of thing?"

"You're suddenly interested in getting to know me now?"

Knox raises a confused brow while stepping out of his sweatpants, revealing a pair of fitted black boxer briefs.

It perfectly outlines his drool-worthy package, making it difficult to ignore.

Everett almost chokes on the mountain of chips in his mouth.

"What? You've already seen me with less on."

"Yeah but... but..." Everett stammers, looking visibly flustered as he forces his eyes upward. "Is that really what you plan on sleeping in tonight? At least put on a shirt or something out of respect for me."

"You fucking kidding me? I normally sleep naked."

"Oh."

"Right, so consider the underwear as me doing you a favor."

The enormous bed dips a little as Knox gets settled underneath the covers.

He grabs the remote off the nightstand and turns on the flat-screen TV hanging on the wall, mindlessly flipping through the channels.

He eventually stops at the news, then rests his arms behind his head, his eyes glued forward.

"So, uh, you're just not going to answer my questions?" Everett mumbles.

Knox continues to pretend that he doesn't exist, so Everett loudly crumbles the now empty bag of chips into a firm ball and then tosses it at Knox's head.

"Asshole."

It hits him right on the nose.

"Jeez, fuck... How much more childish can you get?" Knox exhales sharply, rolling his eyes.

He captures the ball and shoots it into the wastebasket on the other side of the room, making the shot.

Everett scoffs, mockingly.

"I became a member by making a name for myself in the streets and putting in the work required. To answer your other question, it's a no on both parts. Happy now?"

"Not really. You didn't tell me shit. Details would've been nice."

"The less you know, the better."

Everett glances over to meet Knox's dark gaze, the tension in the room popping like fireworks on the 4th of July.

"When can I go home? You still haven't said how long you plan on keeping me here."

"A few days," Knox answers. "They're running Shaun's story on the news right now. I want to see how The Jackals plan to respond before sending you home. If you end up being a causality of war, it'll be on my conscience. I don't want that. So are you sure you've told me everything that I need to know?"

Everett nods, breaking eye contact as his freckled cheeks tint red.

"Can you please stop looking at me like that? It's annoying as hell."

"How am I looking at you?"

Knox's voice drops to a level that it shouldn't as he sits up in bed, staring intensely at Everett.

It's clear he gets a kick out of teasing the boy.

"Tell me how and I'll stop. Maybe."

"Forget it. Let's just go to sleep."

Everett gets up to turn off the lights before laying back down on top of the comforter.

He faces away from Knox and curls into a ball, staring at the closet door.

"I don't like sleeping with background noise. Are you going to leave the TV on all night?"

"Yeah. I can't sleep when it's too quiet," Knox admits.

"Got any more questions to ask me? I feel like talking now."

"I feel like sleeping now," Everett says.

Knox chuckles, playfully thumping the back of Everett's head.

"I have little patience for brats, just so you know. It's a wonder how that Jackal put up with your smart mouth for this long. If you were mine, I'd have long bent you over my knee. Wouldn't be able to sit right for a week."

"Oh my God..." Everett shudders from the sweet chill that creeps up his spine, courtesy of the filthy images Knox has implanted in his head. "You are so gross."

"More like too honest." Knox shifts behind him, lying back down. "So, what were you and Red running your mouths about before I arrived?"

"You mean Josie from the kitchen?"

"Yeah. I call her Red."

"We weren't talking about much," Everett says. "Though she did try to convince me you all weren't a raging group of savage murderers. I didn't believe it until after she told me the story of how you all saved her. Wasn't expecting to hear that."

"I'll let you in on a not-so-little secret," Knox says. "Most MCs make their money through illegal means. But, for the right price, The Fallen Angels will do a little extra on the side, including rescuing a filthy rich CEO's daughter from a crazed drug kingpin."

"How noble of you," Everett sarcastically replies. Knox laughs. "Then what's the reason for all the half-naked women running around here? One girl literally had her tits out when I reached the kitchen. I think a few of them might've been fans of yours."

"I'm not interested," Knox says all too quickly,and Everett doesn't miss it. "Many are patch whores looking to get claimed by a member. The others are friends of the club who simply have nowhere else to go. Gavin lets them cook and clean for free housing."

Everett turns around at that.

"And you guys don't ever… you know, force them to do any sexual favors in exchange?"

"Fuck no," Knox snaps, causing Everett to flinch. "Violating a woman will not only get your ass beat to the brink of death but you'll also get booted from the club and all its chapters. My brothers and I may very well be savages, just not in that way."

"I believe you. Sorry for suggesting otherwise."

Everett's cheeks flare with embarrassment.

He swiftly changes the subject.

"I saw your tattoo in the shower earlier. What's the meaning behind it?"

Knox doesn't immediately respond, almost looking as if he's debating with himself about whether he wants to answer.

Then he does.

"It's in remembrance of my mother. I lost her several years back."

"Oh, shit..." Everett frowns. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thanks. My mother was an amazing woman."

Knox smiles and this one does the job of tugging at Everett's heartstrings.

"She loved angels and used to keep little figurines scattered around the house when I was a kid. She was the only angel in my corner back then, so I got the tattoo to always keep her with me."

"It's really beautiful, Knox. I'm sure she would've loved it."

Everett gives the man a genuine smile, unconsciously reaching over to grab his hand.

Their eyes meet and the mood shifts yet again as Knox quietly studies Everett's face, searching deeply for something that Everett isn't sure he even has.

The sounds coming from the television gradually fade out when Knox slowly intertwines their fingers.

An innocent act, but still so intimate.

Knox licks his lips before speaking again, throwing Everett's pounding heart into overdrive.

"You're a dangerous one, aren't you?"

"Me?" Everett swallows hard. "Dangerous in what way?"

"All the ways."

Knox's eyes remain on Everett's, his thumb lightly stroking the back of Everett's hand.

How can something feel so good and so wrong at the same time?

"We should, uh... you know, get some sleep. It's late."

Everett pulls his hand away and instantly regrets doing so.

He sighs and turns back over to face the closet.

"Goodnight, Knox."

"Goodnight Kitten."

"You just had to ruin the moment, didn't you?" Everett grumbles, simultaneously fighting the smile that's threatening to break through. "I don't like being called that, by the way. I know I don't look it sometimes but I'm a grown man, not some dainty little feline."

Knox's laughter shakes the bed.

"No, that's exactly what you are. A dainty little kitten with a temper."

"I fucking hate you."

"For now."

Everett doesn't waste his breath replying with another snarky comment.

He roughly fluffs out his pillow, closes his eyes and silently prays for a better tomorrow. It's all he can do at this point.

Hope and pray he makes it out of this mess unscathed.