#like no yeah maybe that person put their own unique spin on a take but that COULD become a trope in it of itself! that's where tropes come

[twistedtummies2]

Character Relationships in TW

I just want to make this random post to say a little something I absolutely LOVE about the writing in “Twisted Wonderland.” Something I love about this game, and the way it works, is the way the different characters in the story all relate to one another.  See, every dorm and every character has their own sort of set number of affiliations: the Savanaclaw, Pomefiore, and Octavinelle Trios, the Hand of Five from Heartslabyul, the Diasomnia Quartet, and the Duos from Ignihyde and Scarabia. But we also get to see how these characters interact not only with the different characters in their own dorms, but also the others outside their dorms.  What’s so special about that, you may ask? Well, here’s the thing: the game really takes advantage of that fact and its large cast by giving us some pair-ups you would not expect, or even putting spins on pair-ups you WOULD expect that you might not see coming. As a result, you really get to see all these different characters from a variety of perspectives and angles that you don’t always find in stories like this, at least not to this great a degree.  I really love that. I love that every character is effectively created equal, and that we have all these different relationships and personalities bouncing off one another. I love how you never really know what to expect when a new Event is released, and how every chapter of the Main Story, as it builds off of the previous one, gives you more perspectives and develops these boys further. Heck, this isn’t even counting the Vignettes, which occasionally have their own unique moments of character interaction you don’t get much of elsewhere and give their own cool spin on things. It’s also something I try to accomplish in my own stories for the game, with my OCs: following the formula of the Main Story, my “Chapter Stories” use the antagonists of the previous tale as supporting protagonists in the next. So those relationships are set already, and build off each other as things go on. But then I can also find ways to make characters interact with each other that sometimes even I didn’t anticipate: I never expected a story with Billy and James working together would be how I’d introduce both James and Smitty. And even though Maelstrom and Billy are not planned to meet in the former’s Chapter Story, nor the one that follows, I can easily imagine how they’d relate to one another. Same thing with Theodore and Billy, just as a random example. (Wow, Billy seems to be the one I’m imagining the most relationships with...maybe I oughta start thinking of the other bois more. ‘XD ) Anyway, yeah. Just a random thing I love that I wanted to jabber about before getting to bed in a bit. LOL

[nothingmatters-everythingmatters]

I'm not sure if that's gonna make sense but I was in ace/aro circles a while back (I hadn't unpacked a ton of stuff about how I was objectified in my relationships) and I really dislike the food comparison. Like no matter how they spin it to me it always sounds like some incel thing about how "allo people NEED to have sex unlike us". Not to judge but idk tumblr feels like a bunch of people who lived in very puritanical environments all put in a room together and they're all trying to look more sexually liberated than the other in wrong ways. I feel like this about how they constantly defend prostitution and onlyfans uncritically, or kinks and everything. I feel like whenever you point out the misogyny in what they think they take it personally because of all this. Hopefully this rambling made a tiny bit of sense.

yeah this is very real !! don't worry this makes a lot of sense to me, thank you for the ask!

I've also noticed in aroace spaces there is a narrative around allosexual people as if they constantly measure everyone they meet as a possible sexual prospect, when most people who aren't aro and/or ace definitely do not think like that. most people are pretty normal, and you can usually fit them into some kind of general sexuality like lesbian, gay, bisexual or straight. I think maybe aroace spaces just tend to internalize the myth of sex "hungry" allos due to confirmation bias and mostly only noticing allo people who do behave like that (usually people-well, usually men-who are really into porn and kink) since they're really loud about it.

and I think sexual attraction is complicated! but not in the "we need a million microlabels to fit into a community for some reason" but in the "human sexuality manifests differently for everyone because everyone is their own unique person and is influenced by different experiences in their lives." I guess some people use microlabels to help them understand their unique sexuality, but man, you have to admit sometimes it's a bit overkill.

I think something funny is that what made me start to shy away from identifying as aroace was because for a sexuality that essentially meant a lack of attraction, they sure liked bringing it up all the time whenever people talked about attraction! which honestly made me self-conscious I was becoming one of those people myself. I love talking, but if I didn't have anything to contribute to a conversation I'd rather... well, not contribute! I sometimes wonder if aroace discussion and community keeps getting pushed into larger lgbt discussion because by itself the lack of something doesn't really have much to discuss or bond over.

sometimes I wish I could radio broadcast a statement about how online community based on identity should not be held to such a high regard, and you should find communities based on more material parts of yourself that actually enrich your life instead of turning into an identity affirming ouroboros. that, and if you're questioning your sexuality, don't watch porn :-|

[branmuffins22]

ohno im havign AU thoughts again, this time for owl house.

tentatively calling this one "luz the overthinker". mostly just a canon rewrite with less Idiot Plots (at least from our girl luz) and more of my own headcanons and wishes sprinkled in.

for one thing, gonna really really play into the rejection-sensitive dysphoria so common in neurodivergent folks (and no doubt made magnitudes worse for luz by her ostracization back in the human realm), so shes going to be both Deathly Afraid and (in her mind) Uniquely Capable of failure.

the canon doesnt really diverge too much until after she learns the ice glyph though, when she finally figures out how to learn magic (rather than merely stumbling into it like with the light glyph).

at first shes going on a wild rampage of magical exploration, not unlike what we see her doing in the opening of enchanting grom fright, spending a significant portion of season 1B-ish searching every imaginable natural phenomenon for spell glyphs.

shes gonna be a super dedicated scholar of magic, the same way she was of the azura books' "five dialects of witch-tongue" and "convoluted magic system". im gonna way more clearly take advantage of the fact that she Studies Every Single Track at hexside (so like. magic school as more than just a social setting. and shes gonna actually use potions, probably a lot. and also other magical tools sometimes. and shes gonna learn So Much Theory about all the different kinds of magic. and shes gonna spend so much time sorting out Actual Knowledge from Coven Propaganda. and when she finally gets her grubby little hands on stringbean and she can at last put practice to all that theory shes gonna be a wild witch on par with s1 eda, sorrynotsorry).

with all the focus on magical education, and her discovery of glyph magic as something between learning a language and doing mad science, shes also gonna come up with way more glyph combos, and learn some of the ones from the show much earlier than she did in canon (nice thing about fanfic is that the pace of her magical development isnt limited by what can be introduced while a 20-minute episode plot happens, and thus wont by stymied by The Rat's extratextual interference).

she also slowly changes the methods by which she casts her glyph magic: changing from glyph papers to something more reusable like stamps when she runs out of paper in a fight one time, then from stamps to accessories with the glyphs etched into them when she accidentally drops the stamps during a chase, and so on as more situations foil her previous attempts to maintain her method of magic.

by the time shes both combining glyphs and drawing them onto her body in sharpie, she starts to take her own words from adventures in the elements maybe a bit too seriously, slowly but surely making the stretch from "magic is a gift from the island" to "the titan wields a divine force and i am merely borrowing it, channeling it" (i might even steal an idea from "All that's at stake" by The_Lampman, where she finds herself at the end of her rope by season 2's end and uhh. does the dramatic thing there go read the fic its really really good. but yeah that but with more of an eldritch contract kinda spin (at least the way she imagines it)).

im also thinkin theres gonna be a sideplot (episode? intermission?) in season 2A-ish where money gets tight again, so luz and eda run competing stands, right across the alley from eachother: magical tools sold by the human and human treasures sold by the witch. luz will be making and selling stuff like flasks with the water fountain glyph combo etched in for auto-refilling, and eda will be doing a big ol "clearance sale" (where everything is super marked up >:D) because theres currently no way to the human realm anymore and her shop is gonna have to close soon.

imagining some underlying themes and background plots involving personal agency and preconceived notions, particularly involving luz's growth as both a witch and a member of society, and other characters' growth thanks to luz's influence. as part of this, luz's public perception is gonna go from "lowly human" to "kind of a badass" throughout the story (and, ideally, SIGNIFICANTLY more gradually than in the show) (though there will still be some Key Moments that encourage this, cracking belos's mask being a major one).

along the lines of personal agency, ive been bouncing the idea around for a while now of a sideplot involving a character who is an animated object, similar to the talking typewriter in sense and insensitivity, given enough mobility to exist on their own, but struggling as essentially a second-class citizen due to their lack of a bilesac. luz would teach em all the ways she's learned how to wield magic despite the same shortcoming, and possibly expand "luz's magic bootcamp" into something a bit more broadly accessible to the community (i swear i read a fic once that had her spinning it up again with hunter as a new student, though he was disguised so that lilith wouldnt recognize him. i think the fic was less about teaching hunter glyphs and more about hunter learning how lilith changed after leaving the coven?).

also, an idea im really only like 50/50 on: a burnout plot. because luz is leading a BUSY life. 9x the average course load in school, as well as discovering/inventing a whole branch of magic, as well as working for eda, as well as having a social life for basically the first time in her life, as well as learning the ins and outs of a whole world and culture, as well as building a portal back to the human realm, as well as the multitude of misadventures she finds herself in. shes not just burning the candle at both ends, she cut the candle in half so she could burn the whole length of the wick. no matter how much she may enjoy all the things shes doing, the fact remains that shes doing a LOT. might even have her run out of adderall and start coping with caffeine if im feelin really angsty. significant burnout would probably set in around the middle of season 2-ish, but due to The Plot, she would probably be forced to endure it all the way until season 3-ish starts.

(the main reason im hesitant to do a burnout plot is because ive also got some Thoughts and Feelings on a Code Lyoko canon rewrite which tackles overwork and burnout in a much more central way, and i dont want to tread the same ground twice) (...though i guess id have to actually write either of them before im really treading any ground at all)

[hua-fei-hua]

(can’t remember if I’ve already sent in an ask for this but I meant to) aries cancer and leo for the zodiac writing asks!!

asfsdf forgetful adhd strikes again

aries: when have you felt the most confident in your writing? when have you felt the least confident?

hmmm i think peak confidence was like 2018 which i know sounds like a long time ago, but that was the last time i had a major wip that was getting steady attention. i felt really good about my writing then because it was a mulan au, so the basic skeleton of a story was already laid out before me, and i was pulling a lot from chinese culture, which, as a halfie living in a predominantly east asian community, is something i’m very very familiar with, so i could focus a lot more on the beauty of the writing itself. i think i wrote some truly quality stuff for that au, to the point where this has reminded me that oh my god i still have that annotated version of the fic to finish up hahaha.

as for the least confident omg so it’s a really funny story. so basically in my senior year of high school, i almost had this guy i barely knew be my fake boyfriend for a night (for revenge purposes, long story), and he was the head drum major of our school band. after finishing up the aforementioned mulan au, i wanted to work on this school band au, but the plot i had in mind meant i had to ask around for some particular details. long story short, i asked my almost-fake-boyfriend to ask the head drum major of one of our sister schools (who happened to be the girl he liked) to ask her some questions for me, and we got into an argument that ended in him saying, “who would ever want to read something you wrote” and i was destroyed for the rest of 2019. that’s basically why i had a fic/fandom hiatus for all of 2019, but that was a long time ago now.

these days i do my best to feel neutrally about my writing, because if the reception to a particular piece doesn’t go exactly the way i imagined, i’ll start getting insecure again hahaha.

cancer: how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

mmmm not necessarily! being grey-aro, i haven’t held romantic feelings for anyone since before i started taking my writing hobby seriously, so it can be a little difficult to project the newly-falling-in-love feelings onto characters. i do keep a very regular diary, but to look back on those times is also omg Deeply Cringe(tm) because watching people fall in love embarrasses me.

that being said, i do feel very strongly as i write about emotions like embarrassment, anger, hurt, and joy!!! i like to sit with an emotion when i’m writing it, kind of pick apart where it’s coming from and how i’m feeling it, and then i’ll give it to the characters.

leo: what things will show up in every book you write? do you ever feel like a one-trick pony? 

my favorite themes in writing have been “lying,” “consequences,” and “searching,” with the final one showing up in the majority of fics i plan or publish, and all three showed up in the mulan au i mentioned earlier!! the night sky, stuff like the moon and stars, show up pretty often too, although they’re not always symbols. a lot of the time i’m literally just sitting there like “you know what i LOVE? tHE MOON AND STARS”

as for feeling like a one-trick pony? not at all! i find that there are a lot of ways to explore the same idea, even by the same person especially since those themes are so broad.

hehe ty for the ask!!!!!

zodiac writer’s ask uwu

[shima-draws]

Me, clapping my hands: SUPPORT COURSE IZUKU! SUPPORT COURSE IZUKU!! ...WITH A PROSTHETIC!!

I’m sure people have had this idea before but I wanted to put my own spin on it!! And now for the info:

-Izuku's been fascinated with heroes since a young age. However, after finding out he was quirkless, he refused to give up, and switched gears to start investing in the support field. He figured if he couldn't be a pro hero he could at least do his best to help them and be a hero in his own way.

-Izuku's an absolute GENIUS when it comes to inventing--he's on par with Hatsume. However, Hatsume focuses more on support items that break convention and are very innovative and unique. Izuku's focus is more on items that actually help heroes on the field and support their bodies, and items that also allow them to use their quirks to their full extent while still being able to control them properly. (Basically, Izuku's gadgets act as a control stick for heroes that go all out i.e. Toshi.) He also makes a lot of gadgets that support disabled heroes, because--

-Izuku has a prosthetic arm! It's his right one. This was the result of a villain attack that he got involved in after meeting All Might. Toshi blames himself for what happened to Izuku because he couldn't get there in time. He and Izuku are very close--Izuku knows the secret behind Toshi's appearance and he knows about One For All. Mirio is the one to inherit OFA in this AU--so Izuku's very close to him as well! Izuku makes support items for both Toshi and Mirio, to support their quirks. Izuku's gadgets have saved Toshi in a pinch a hundred times over, and are designed to support him when he needs that extra push when he's already reached his limit.

There is more ahead~

-After Izuku lost his arm in the villain accident, Bakugou does a total 180 and starts treating him better. From the start their relationship was less strained than in canon bc Izuku went into doing stuff for support early on, and Bakugou didn't see this as much as a threat compared to if Izuku still wanted to be a pro hero despite being quirkless. Nowadays Bakugou is VERY protective of Izuku--and both of them have reached a point where they're genuine friends. Izuku teases Bakugou a lot and easily snarks back at him when he's being a little shit. Bakugou won't ever admit it openly but Izuku is his best friend :') He cares about him  a lot. He used to defend Izuku constantly back in middle school after the accident, but Izuku soon learned to stand up for himself.

-Going off of that, Bakugou taught Izuku how to fight physically, and they try to spar once or twice a week if they can! It's good practice. Izuku was awful at it at first especially since his sense of balance was off due to the weight of the prosthetic, but Bakugou's a good teacher despite all his shouting lmao. Now Izuku can easily hand his ass to him if he gets into it enough. He can handle himself in a fight pretty brilliantly, even against villains, and Class 1-A quickly learns not to underestimate him.

-Bakugou refuses to get support items from anybody else but Izuku. He bitches at Izuku a lot but Izuku always takes his advice--Bakugou usually offers good tips and pointers on how to improve his gauntlets! Baku always says that while Izuku fucks up all the time (false), he at least trusts him enough to get the job done, while he scorns the rest of the support course fnjdsdd

-Since Izuku isn't in Class 1-A in this AU--guess who is? Yeah, it's Shinsou! Besides Baku Shinsou is probably Izuku's other closest friend, along with Hatsume! Shinsou's got a crush on Izuku and probably knows it won't be reciprocated, but he's fine with that. If Shinsou isn't in class he's most likely hanging out in the development studio with Izuku and Hatsume. The three of them are kinda like a mini Big Three haha, they've got a reputation around UA

-Do not put Izuku and Hatsume in the same room together or they'll bounce insane ideas off of each other and create outrageous things. They get each other super fired up LMAO and go to each other for advice when they need it!

-Izuku has the biggest, most obvious and absolutely endearing crush on one (1) Shouto Todoroki. Bakugou teases him about it CONSTANTLY. The reason for this is because they actually met back in middle school, before Izuku lost his arm--and Todoroki just made a really memorable impression on him bc he was the first person to ever treat him really kindly (they bumped into each other on accident because Izuku was getting chased by bullies, Izuku scraped up his hands, Todoroki chased off the bullies and then iced his injuries, and then they had a really deep conversation about heroes and encouraged each other). Todoroki kinda becomes Izuku's first love in that sense;; ofc it's nothing super serious but Izuku definitely feels all floaty and happy about it afterward. When Izuku gets into UA and notices that Todoroki's in the hero course he almost has a stroke because 1. Izuku gave him encouragement to get into UA waaaay back then and he's shocked Todoroki actually took his advice, 2. He finds out that Todoroki is in fact Todoroki bc they never gave each other their names, so Izuku's Shook his "first love" is actually the son of Endeavor, and 3. Todoroki's grown. He was pretty back in middle school but now. He's hot. HE'S HOT OH NO. After that Izuku keeps noticing him and hears rumors that Todoroki is an ice cold prince type character that has no real feelings. Izuku's like "Someone who takes the time out of their day to save you, heal your hands, and encourage you on your path to be a hero can't be that type of person" so Izuku just KNOWS Todo's actually a very kind boy. Izuku keeps watching him and gets super smitten after the Sports Festival ;) But he's like "He's practically famous, he'd never notice somebody like me, he probably doesn’t even remember me from middle school, haha" (so it's a bit like a celebrity crush). Shinsou and Hatsume bug him about his crush just to see him get flustered and it's very cute lol

-The second time Izuku and Todoroki meet is a goddamn mess and technically counts as their first because Todoroki has a shit memory and can't connect Izuku's face to the boy he met in middle school (also that boy definitely had two flesh arms and Izuku only has one). Todoroki walks in right as one of Izuku's gadgets explodes, absolutely showering him in dust and soot. Izuku freaks out and apologizes a lot while he helps him clean up (while Hatsume is teasing in the background). Note that Izuku's only wearing like a tanktop and sweats, and his hair is all messy and swept back especially since he's wearing his trademark goggles, he's covered in sweat and dirt, he has a really cool looking prosthetic (and Todoroki didn't realize he'd have a thing for that but apparently he does), and Izuku's really fucking toned so Todoroki has a big ol Gay Crisis right there in the development studio. Izuku is INCREDIBLY attractive and Todoroki doesn't know what to do with that info. After Izuku cleans up and manages to get an order for a support item out of Todo, Todo leaves and immediately texts Momo saying, "Yaoyorozu, I think I just had my gay awakening" and on the other side of campus, Momo chokes on her drink. Meanwhile back in the studio Izuku is SCREAMING like "Oh my GOD did that really just happen--did Shouto Todoroki walk in, get blasted by one of my inventions going haywire, let me clean him up and TOUCH HIS CHEST, HATSUME, I GOT TO FEEL HIM UP, and THEN HE ASKED ME TO TAKE AN ORDER, I'M GOING INTO CARDIAC ARREST. TELL MY MOTHER AND TOSHI I LOVED THEM AND TELL TODOROKI I'M SORRY FOR GETTING HIS PERFECT BEAUTIFUL HAIR DIRTY" and she's just laughing her ass off LMAOOOO

-It isn't until their third meeting that Izuku realizes Todoroki doesn't seem to remember him at ALL. And it stings, a lot (but he kinda figured this would happen esp since Todo didn’t recognize him the last time they talked), but he's still happy for the chance to know him now, and get to design support items for him!! Meanwhile Todo's like. Starting to catch on that maybe he DOES know Izuku after all? He isn't sure? But he's definitely falling for him. 

I’ve got more headcanons and stuff but yeah this is all the basics!!! I got so excited to flesh this AU out and make designs fnasjkbdnasds it’s definitely gonna be a fun one to play around with!

I want to either call this the Support Course Hero AU or maybe just Support Hero AU would work--what do you guys think?

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Seven // Wanda Maximoff

chapter six | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter eight

author’s note: hope y’all like this one 👀

The Maximoffs were just as a good at throwing a party as my own parents were.

Celebrating a new book that was published at Pietro's business, they threw a party in their back garden big enough to host half the town if they wanted to. Actually, now that I thought about, half the town was probably there.

We were invited to celebrate along with them because we were 'family' now, as Oleg and Iryna pointed out, so I found myself standing in their garden getting a drink under the night sky and trying to blend in with the snacks table so I wouldn't have to mingle. Parties still weren't my thing, clearly.

People-watching was more my forte. It was amazing the things people did when they thought nobody was looking. One guy coughed into his hand and wiped it on his pants – I reminded myself not to shake his hand – whilst some woman checked if her teeth were clean on the back of a serving tray.

My gaze raked the garden, indifferent to the men who attempted to get women's attention with a boyish grin and terrible pick-up lines, or the women who lifted their dresses a little higher than necessary to steal a man's attention. I spotted my parents talking to some guests whom I'd never see before, then there was Wanda's parents laughing alongside Pietro as he told a joke to some important looking people.

Eventually, my eyes fell to the remaining Maximoff, who was looking especially beautiful tonight. A deep lilac gown adorned her figure and she wore it like it was uniquely made just for her. She probably didn't even realise, but all eyes were definitely on her; a simple stride around the garden had people turning heads to see who the lilac beauty was. Y/B/N was the most envied man of the evening, with every guy here wishing they could have Wanda on their arm.

I'd wanted to tell her just how truly stunning she looked tonight, but I hadn't been able to pull her away from my brother's side for even a second. Everywhere he went, she went, too. I'd caught her eyes maybe three times tonight since she was so involved with whatever she spoke about with the people who worked for Pietro. I didn't take it personally of course, but it didn't make me feel any better.

Y/B/N had his hands all over her, probably suspecting just how many people were checking her out tonight, and I hated the way it made me feel. Envy and jealousy came over me and it wasn't pleasant. His hand was permanently fixed on her waist, at times moving suspiciously lower and making me roll my eyes. Occasionally, he'd lean over and whisper something in her ear making her flush – involuntarily or not, I didn't know. Wanda was a good actress, appearing as the perfect fiancé to him and couple to everybody else. Or, at least, I hoped it was acting.

"Pretty ladies shouldn't be standing by their lonesome," said someone with a Sokovian accent, but sadly not the one I wanted to hear.

"Pietro," I said with an amused smile, turning to face the man of the evening. "Congratulations on the new published book!"

He smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Y/N. How are you finding the party?"

I glanced around, disguising my discomfort with a nod. "It's great."

He chuckled, as if suspecting that was a lie, before changing the subject. "So, the book. Have you read it?"

Glad that this was something I could actually talk about, my shoulders relaxed and I nodded. "Yes! I bought it yesterday as soon as it was published. I've only read the first six chapters, but what I've read is beautifully written."

Pietro snickered, raising his brows. "Only? That's further than anyone here has read."

I smiled bashfully, eyes veering elsewhere with embarrassment. "I guess I just have a lot of free time."

He hummed with amusement. "And you must really like reading... Wanda mentioned you write, too. It's nice to know it runs in the family."

Certain my cheeks were flushed, I nodded. "Yeah, our dad, he taught Y/B/N and I how to write when we were kids. That's where my love of literature began."

"And what do you like to write?" he asked, intrigued.

I shrugged, the grip on my glass of champagne loosening as I grew comfortable. "I don't know... short stories, drabbles, novels. I mainly deal with themes of love and romanticism. We're so intent on leading our lives with what other people want that we rarely take time to think about we want... I write about that."

Swallowing, I looked to Pietro, hoping I wasn't boring him. He was a publisher after all, besides my soon-to-be brother-in-law. His opinion was important to me.

"I must admit, Y/N, my interest is piqued," he admitted, watching me with an inquisitive gaze. "Do you have anything I could read?"

"It's probably better than it sounds," I said dismissively, knowing this was just small talk.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I doubt that. You shouldn't say such things. You never know, you could be my next signed author."

I tried not to laugh. "Nice try, Pietro."

He smiled widely. "What? I'm serious!"

Tilting my head towards him knowingly, I sighed. "We both know that can't happen."

He was grinning now, clearly entertained by my unamused expression. "Says who?"

I motioned around us with my drink. "Says everyone? The world we live in?"

He began to list authors on his fingers as he said, "Jane Austen. Emily Bronte. Mary Shelley. Louisa May Alcott. Dare I name more?"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I said, pushing his hand down and rolling my eyes at his smug expression. "But I can promise you that all of those women fought tooth and nail to get published. Their families probably weren't as accepting as they wanted them to be. There's still people now who talk about how unprofessional and lacklustre their works are. They didn't have it easy. Still don't. And don't even get me started on the reputation side of things for you... d'you know how much backlash you'd get for signing a woman?"

Pietro shrugged, sipping his drink, before saying casually, "I only care about talent, Y/N. And if you have even a quarter of the talent your brother does, then I'm happy to go from there."

I quirked a brow, trying to gauge if he was pulling my leg or not. But the kind eyes looking back at me suggested he may not have been. Either way, the idea of actually being published – something I'd been dreaming of since I was a kid – was enough to raise my suspicions and make me shake my head.

"Thanks for listening, Pietro," I said conclusively, hoping he got the hint.

He nodded, accepting my word, thankfully. "Anytime. Hopefully this isn't the end of this conversation, though."

I cracked a smile, knowing it was but giving him the benefit of the doubt. He pursed his lips, glancing around briefly before attempting to hide an amused smile.

"What are you smiling at?" I teased, nudging him in the arm slightly.

His eyes met mine, sparkling with mischief. "You've probably not noticed, but as we've been speaking, almost everyone in this garden has looked our way."

I cocked my head with confusion, smile still present. He nodded subtly, eyes flickering to the right, so I followed his gaze and inconspicuously looked around. He was right, as murmurs of gossip escaped people's lips, their eyes trying to get a good look at the two of us. Even our parents were looking our way, no doubt discussing our future wedding affair.

"Wow," I breathed out, trying not to laugh as I looked back to him. "You'd think they'd have something better to do."

He leaned in, muttering, "Wanna give them a show?"

My eyes flickered between his, seeing that roguish charm of his come to life. I couldn't resist his mischievous attempt to piss off our parents, so of course I nodded with a stifled laugh.

"Care to dance, Miss Y/L/N?" he asked, a little louder than he needed to, attracting more attention.

I grinned, grateful for the idiot that was Pietro. He was already making my evening ten times better than it was.

Resting my hand in his outstretched one, I nodded. "Thank you, Mr Maximoff."

I barely had chance to put my glass down before he led me to the area before the live band that was strumming a lovely upbeat ballad. We joined the other couples that were also having a dance, unbothered by their nosey stares.

Bowing dramatically, he smiled and I curtsied before resting a hand on his shoulder and the other in his. He rested a hand on my waist respectfully before a grin spread across his lips and he began to dance me around everybody else, way too fast for me to keep up.

"Pietro!" I exclaimed between fits of laughter, trying not to trip over my feet or his.

"You said we could dance," he answered simply, before spinning me around.

My eyes went dizzy as he dipped me, making me laugh joyfully. For the first time all night, I was having fun. When he pulled me up, his eyes motioned to the left of us.

"D'you think our parents have already picked the wedding venue?" he teased.

"Definitely," I said with a nod, before shoving him back slightly. "But you, mister, need to slow down. You're like a speedster with the dancing. We should call you Quicksilver."

He laughed, continued to dance me around but much more slower this time. "I like that. You're clever. I can see why Wanda has taken a liking to you."

I knew he didn't mean it like that, but my heart dropped to my stomach anyway. A hearty chuckle escaped his lips as he noticed my expression. Thankfully, he didn't question it and we continued to make a fool of ourselves for a few more songs before taking a break by the snacks table.

"You're an idiot," I told Pietro as we caught our breath, but a delighted smile was on my lips. "You know you've probably convinced our parents that we're a couple now, right?"

"Hey, you're the one who started to fluff my hair like you loved me!" he retorted with humoured eyes.

"Because you're just so darn cute!" I mocked him, before moving forward and going in to fluff his hair yet again.

He attempted to smack my hand away as he said, "Hands off the hair, Y/L/N! I styled it perfectly!"

Grabbing my wrists, he held me back and I tried not to cry with laughter at the expression on his face.

"Such a child," I decided, pulling my hands away. "Whatever happens from here on out is definitely your fault."

He scoffed, as if ready to refute that fact, but before he could say anything, my brother's voice was heard.

"It's nice to see you actually conversing with people for a change, but maybe not my publisher."

Pietro and I turned and saw Y/B/N and Wanda approaching us. My brother seemed entertained by Pietro and I, looking between us with pre-conceived ideas that we may have already fancied each other, just like everyone else had tonight. Wanda, meanwhile, was watching me with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"He's good company, what can I say?" I joked, returning my brother's smile.

"Oh?" He raised a brow, knowing look in his eyes.

I rolled my own, trying not to laugh at his insinuation. There was no point trying to convince him otherwise.

"I was just giving Y/N here the best evening ever since she was moping around in the corner," Pietro explained nonchalantly, making me smack his arm.

"I was not moping!" I defended myself.

He shrugged, ghost of a smile on his lips. "Whatever you say."

I gave him a playful glare before focusing my attention to the couple before us.

"As lovely as it is to see whatever this is," my brother continued to make things awkward as he motioned between us, "I came to get Pietro. Someone from the press is here and has questions about the book."

At the mention of this, Pietro straightened up and neatened his bow tie, flashing my brother his most confident smile. "Lead the way, Y/B/N."

After assuring Wanda he'd be back in a second, Y/B/N let go of her waist and guided Pietro to the members of the press. Glad that he'd finally left her side, I looked to Wanda with a soft smile.

"Hey," I said quietly, glancing around before saying what I'd wanted to say all night. "You look radiant tonight, Wanda." 

Unexpectedly, she crossed her arms and pressed her lips together firmly. "How was your dance with Pietro?"

Her green eyes, literally green with envy, watched me with distaste. It didn't take long for me to recognise that familiar jealousy entwined in her expression because it was probably the same way I looked when she was with my brother. For some reason, this made me smile with amusement.

"He's a very good dancer," I said, half truthful and half trying to poke fun.

She wasn't amused. "Yeah, everybody saw. You've been all over him."

I covered my mouth, trying very hard not to laugh. "I mean, he's pretty funny to be around. I can totally see why everybody wants us to get married."

Her jaw clenched as she narrowed her eyes at me.

"C'mon, it's a joke," I said lightheartedly, nudging her in the arm. "You know that."

After internally debating whether or not to believe me, she relaxed her shoulders and unclenched her jaw. "I know."

"So, what's the problem?" I asked, raising a brow and smiling playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing."

My smile faded as I searched her eyes. "C'mon. What is it? You know you can tell me."

"Forget it, Y/N," she muttered, avoiding my eyes.

Realising she was still clearly bothered, I sighed dramatically, hoping to lighten the mood. Making sure my voice was low enough for only her to hear, I said, "I only danced with him to annoy our parents. Same with him. He's clearly not interested in me and neither I with him. That's why we get along so well." Teasing her once more, I added, "If circumstances were different, I'd like to think we'd be good friends. He's quite handsome, though I think the good looks are a Maximoff twin thing. Maybe if–"

"I'm in love with you!"

I paused, blinking, unsure if I'd heard correctly. Her cheeks were flushed as she looked to me with exasperation.

Glancing around to make sure nobody was attracted by her outburst, I swallowed hard. My heart was pounding in my ears as she said what I'd been struggling to accept for the past two months.

"What?" I breathed out, raising my brows with surprise.

She licked her lips, realisation replacing her look of admission. Opening her mouth to say something, she stepped forward, but my brother returned with an oblivious smile on his face and interrupted the moment.

"Wanda, the journalists want a picture of us for their article," he said enthusiastically, returning his arm around her waist and tugging her close, making my skin crawl.

Her gaze lingered on me for as long as she could before looking up to my brother with a halfhearted smile.

"Sure," she agreed reluctantly.

My brother nodded at me before leading Wanda away. She gave me one last look, her eyes trapped with unsaid words, before leaving with him. My mouth went dry as Wanda's words echoed in my mind. She was in love with me. And I knew I was in love with her, too. I had been for a while.

But wouldn't admitting that make this whole thing a lot more complicated?

—

"Will you stop shaking your hand? It's very distracting."

I stopped shaking my hand and gave my mum an apologetic glance before facing the door again. I was extremely eager and nervous to see Wanda again, as I hadn't been able to see her for the rest of the party last night.

Her words were permanently resounding in my mind all night, making it difficult to fall asleep. The reality of our situation had dawned on me and I knew that even though everything would become more difficult between us, I had to tell her that I felt the same way. The last thing I wanted was her panicking that I didn't. Because these last two months loving her in secret were better than anything I'd experienced in my life.

Iryna and my mum had made plans to hang out today, including Wanda and I in the plans without actually telling me until this morning. I didn't mind though as I was hoping it could be an opportunity for us both to finally speak.

The front door opened to reveal Iryna with a bright, inviting smile. She exchanged greetings with us both and ushered us inside instantly. There, waiting, was Wanda, looking as gorgeous as ever. A calm suddenly enveloped me as I looked to her, my heart fluttering in my chest more so than usual. She loved me and that thought alone made me feel giddy inside.

"You must come upstairs to the closet with me," Iryna insisted before I could utter a word to the brunette. "I've been very silly and impulse-ordered a bunch of new dresses. Of course, the only way to fix that is to try them on."

My mother laughed alongside her and the two of them looked to Wanda and I questioningly. I smiled their way, glancing at Wanda, before following them upstairs. Maybe later.

I spent the next hour trying on clothes against my own will, modelling them for Wanda and our mothers awkwardly. Ecstatic, our mothers threw their opinions out at me, but I was barely listening because all I could seem to focus on was a quiet Wanda. I couldn't read her mind for the life of me – she was getting better at hiding how she truly felt.

Wanda also tried some dresses on, still not as enthused as she usually was, but neither of our mothers seemed to take notice. I sat on the lounge sofa alongside them, eyes unable to look away from Wanda as she modelled the dresses. I had no words, my mind hazy and tongue tied as she stole my breath away for the millionth time. She was ethereal.

"...what do you think, Y/N?" Iryna asked, forcing me to look away from Wanda and to her. "She should keep this one, shouldn't she?"

I hummed in agreement, looking back to Wanda, who was avoiding my eyes. "She should. I don't think I've ever seen a dress so perfect for someone before."

Our mothers didn't seem to think much of my comment, but Wanda finally looked up, not ignoring me for the first time since I got here. I offered her a small smile, hoping she could see what I'd been wanting to say to her since last night. But she looked away, chewing on her lip and looking down.

"I'm gonna change," she mumbled, before turning to go back behind the curtain.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back against the seat. I'd just have to find a spare moment.

Iryna and my mum proceeded to try on a bunch of dresses before we called it a day and were ready to eat lunch.

"I want you to have these, Y/N," Iryna told me as we all stood up, motioning to the pile of dresses on the arm of the sofa. "It's my gift to you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, Iryna, you don't need to give–"

"Don't be ridiculous," she cut me off with a wave of her hand. "You're family now. Anything for my daughter-in-law."

I smiled awkwardly, not missing the eye roll from Wanda, before nodding. "Thanks..."

She looked to her daughter. "Wanda, medovyy (honey), can you help her pack them away and meet Y/M/N and I outside on the patio for some lunch?"

Wanda, having no other choice but to say yes, nodded and forced a smile in her mum's direction. "Sure, mum."

Our mothers fell into conversation as they left the room, finally leaving Wanda and I alone. I released a breath, grateful for the privacy, and looked to the Sokovian in question.

"You okay?" I asked slowly, wanting to find a start before erupting straight into my feelings.

She nodded, nibbling on her lip. She looked like she wanted to say something more, so I watched her patiently.

After a pause, when I thought she may just stay quiet forever, she spoke. "If what I said last night was out of line, I'm sorry."

I shook my head, a smile curling on my lips. "It wasn't. I'm in love with you, too."

Surprised, she finally met my gaze, eyes swirling with confusion. "You are?"

"Of course I am," I said quietly, stepping forward and taking her hands in mine. "I didn't mean to make you jealous last night. Pietro and I were genuinely just hanging out as friends."

She shook her head, eyes flickering between mine. "It doesn't matter about that. Forget it."

I still felt guilty, adding, "I know, but it does matter. I don't want to–"

She pressed her lips to mine quickly, cutting me off. Her fingers tangled in my hair as she tugged me closer with her other hand, making me gasp when my body touched hers. I kissed back, closing my eyes and moving my lips against hers in perfect sync.

I probably could have kissed her all afternoon, but the sound of the door opening made us both jump apart, startled. It was just a servant who was coming in to clean up the room. When she saw us, she gave us a small smile before moving around the room carefully. My eyes fell to Wanda's excited ones, and I smiled at her before nodding to the dresses.

"We should sort this out before they wonder what's taking so long," I told her, moving to pack them.

She nodded, grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently before helping me. We packed the dresses in no time before joining our mums out on the patio where they were sat with our lunch. I tried to keep my eyes off Wanda as our mothers spoke to us about God knew what, but it was hard when all I wanted to do was kiss her over and over, telling her just how much I loved her.

"...nice to see you both getting along lately," Iryna was talking, and I only zoned back in when I realised she was looking at me.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Wanda stifled a smile as my mum gave me a disapproving look from across the table.

Iryna didn't seem to mind as she chuckled. "You and Pietro," she continued. "You both seemed very comfortable at the party last night."

I settled on a polite smile. "He's a gentleman. Very nice to be around, I guess."

Iryna smiled knowingly, exchanging glances with my mum before patting Wanda on the forearm, getting her attention. "How does that sound, dear? Your brother and Y/N together?"

I shook my head instantly, realising how she'd taken my words. "That's not what I meant."

Humming in response, Iryna continued to look to her daughter. "You may have to start sharing your new best friend with Pietro."

Remembering Wanda's jealousy last night, I spared her a glance of concern, hoping she wouldn't let this get to her. She was smiling, but her eyes were dimmed with dismay.

"Uh-huh," she played along with her mother's words, before using her fork to pick at her food.

As our mums began to talk about it, I found Wanda's hand under the table and laced my fingers in hers, hoping she'd know I only cared about one person and it was her. Though she didn't look up, her hand tightened around mine and she didn't let go.

The rest of the lunch went by as expected, though the more Iryna and my mother mentioned the wedding, the more Wanda and I grew uncomfortable. It was so much harder to hear about it when I knew my feelings were growing stronger for the brunette every day. By the end of the meal, my mother was happy to go back home and said I could stay to hang out with Wanda, which of course I did.

After bidding her a goodbye, I let Wanda drag me upstairs and to her bedroom, though the door closed when she spun around and pushed me against it, immediately kissing me. Before I could even question what was happening, she pulled away and looked at me through a half-lidded gaze.

"I don't want to share you with my brother, ever," she rasped out lowly, before licking her lips. "I don't want to share you with anyone."

She breathed out, her breath mingling with mine. Her hands rested on my waist before she reattached our lips, moving hers slower and more thoughtfully against mine.

I closed my eyes, grabbing her face and holding her gently, letting her slip her tongue between my lips and play with mine. Then she sucked on my lower lip, teeth nibbling gently at the sensitive skin, and made my insides go warm and fuzzy.

When she let go, she trailed kisses down my jaw and to my neck, having me at her mercy.

"Wanda," I moaned, hand moving to the back of her neck as I tried to regain some control of the situation, but the longer she sucked at the exposed skin, the more my knees wanted to buckle.

Already lowering my dress to my shoulders, her hand untied the back of it and I flushed at the contact of her fingers against me, not used to the feeling but also not opposed.

"Wanda, are you sure?" I asked between bated breaths, attempting to get her attention by tugging at her dress.

She pulled back, hand rising to my jaw and caressing it with her thumb as she looked between my eyes. Hers were dark, clouded with an arousal I hadn't seen before.

"I am," she said with certainty, before asking, "Are you?"

I swallowed hard, the warmth in my core growing hotter as she stared at me with lustful eyes and swollen lips. "Yes."

She gave me a slight smile before pressing her lips to mine again, allowing me to wrap my arms around her neck. I heard her lock the door behind me as I undid the top of her dress, struggling to do so without breaking contact from her. We moved to the bed clumsily, trying not to stumble over our discarded dresses, before I laid her down and straddled her.

Leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her neck, I felt her fingers grip my waist, keeping ahold of my body on hers. I shivered as her nails scratched gently against the skin and grew warm when she lifted herself up gently to get more comfortable, her clothed centre rubbing against mine.

Taking a breath, I pulled away and hovered over her, revelling in the beauty that was Wanda Maximoff. Her cheeks were dusted pink as she opened her eyes, green eyes sparkling desperately as they flickered between mine.

"I love you," I told her softly, leaning on my elbow and caressing her forehead.

She smiled, nails trailing up my back and sending shivers down my spine. "Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu."

I tried not to laugh as I tilted my head with confusion. She smiled a little wider, hand reaching for the back of my bra.

"I love you, too," she translated in English, hint of amusement in her eyes, before she managed to undo the bra strap.

I rolled my eyes at her attempt of mockery before chasing down her lips once more. Everything about the woman before me was absolute perfection and I was glad I could finally share how I felt about her without having to hide it anymore.

The potential consequences of our actions was not my concern right now... all I cared about was treating her with the respect and care she deserved.

[starkeristheendgame]

Inspired by 9-1-1 (on Fox), which is my current obsession. I highly recommend checking it out and it’s spin-off series 9-1-1: Lonestar. If you already like 9-1-1 and Buddie (Buck and Eddie) then you should check out my new main account @therogueheart. Liberty has been taken with protocols and practices here, but the land of fiction knows no rules.

Firefighter!Tony x Civilian!Peter.

TW: Age difference | Under-negotiated sexual content | Unrealistic practises

“NYFD! We’re evacuating the block!”

“NYFD, are any residents present?”

Peter jerked awake to loud yelling and incessant pounding on his door, flailing blearily in bed for a moment before he fell off the side of in a heap of limbs and bedding, scrambling to get upright.

He shrugged on a hoodie and tripped into a pair of combat boots, stumbling his way sleepily to the door. He was operating on barely five hours of sleep and felt every hour he was sorely missing - though his midterms were a good enough reason to burn the midnight oil.

He wrenched the door open just as a firefighter on the other side went to swing the breach ram into it, letting out a squeak of panic as it stopped mere inches from his belly. The man wielding it was huge; with short blond hair and shoulders that could fit a person comfortably on either side. 

“That was close, I could’ve ruptured your entire torsal cavity and killed you!” the firefighter boomed cheerfully, straightening up with a broad, dazzling smile. Peter let out a faint noise and did his best not to pass out, sagging against the doorframe and gripping it. 

He was wide fucking awake now, that was for sure.

“My name is Thor, I’m with the NYPD, Manhattan division. We’re evacuating the block, there’s been a gas leak on the lower and mid levels and there’s risk of combustion,” the man ordered, slinging the ram over his shoulder and gesturing to the hallway. Peter could hear other voices, all similar conversations amidst the yells of NYPD, open up!

“Uh,” was all Peter got out before he was being ushered out of his doorway. Firefighter Thor nudged him several steps forwards before Peter’s brain finally came online and he jerked to a stop.

“Wait! I need my Adderall and my phone! If I don’t call Aunt May she’s gonna kill me and if I don’t take my meds I’m gonna be screwed!”

Thor looked undecided, brows pinching. “You shouldn’t-”

“It’s okay, Thor. Move onto the North quadrant; I’ll stay with this one,” came a voice from behind them and Peter turned, shrinking in on himself a little. 

Illuminated in the crappy hallway lighting was a man who looked like he’d stepped straight off a movie billboard. He wasn’t as tall or the same brand of clean-cut Hollywood handsome that Thor was, but he was just as attractive. More so, if Peter was going to acknowledge his tendency to lust after men twice or even thrice his age. 

The man had black hair swept into a neat side-leaning quiff, a hint of salt and pepper at his temples. His facial hair had been styled in a way that ought to look ridiculous but only served to give him a unique, sharp look, accentuating the shape of his jaw. 

The man winked at him and Peter realised he’d been staring. When he glanced to the side Thor had already moved off out of sight and the firefighter left behind gestured to Peter’s door, which was thankfully still open ajar from where he’d been rushed out.

“Uh, thanks. Thank you...Sir? Officer?” he cringed at his own awkwardness, shuffling past. The man looked amused, quirking a brow and pursing his lips a little, even as something indescribable flashed in his eyes. 

“Sir works just fine, if that’s your thing. But for the record - I’m Captain Stark. Pretty boys get to call me Tony, though,” the man winked again, teasing seeping into his voice as Peter flushed and beelined for his bed, grabbing his phone from it’s charger and scooping up his bill box and keys. 

He lamented not being able to grab anything else, but he knew better than to put himself (and someone else) at risk by lingering. Tony ushered him out of the door with a hand on the small of his back, guiding him towards the stairwell. Peter could hear noises and voices on the lower levels but realised with surprise that they were the only two left on the topmost floor.

“You were dead to the world, kid. Thor was banging on your door like crazy. We almost gave you up for not in,” Tony voiced, seemingly understanding his realisation. Peter flushed again and mumbled something about studying, hurrying down the stairs as quickly as he could, Tony a close and solid presence at his back.

It wasn’t until the cool, outside air hit his legs that he realised he was still only wearing a thin hoodie and the shorts he’d gone to sleep in. He shivered in dismay, wrapping his arms around himself. He wasn’t the only one who’d clearly been dragged out of bed - there were people milling around in robes and pyjama sets. 

One poor man was even shivering in a ratty blanket, suds dripping from his hair and into his eyes. 

“What happened?” he asked, doing his best to stop his teeth from chattering. 

“Residents on the lower levels reported strong smells of sulphur and gas. We think it’s a line rupture or faulty heater somewhere. Full evac is protocol until we know for sure and can get started on a fix,” the fire Captain answered, steering him a little away from the main crowd and to one of the trucks. 

“Take a seat, kid,” Tony offered, gesturing to the step-up of the truck. Peter did, flinching as his bare skin met the icy metal. The man left him there, turning away to resume his role as he barked orders and disappeared off into the fray. Peter busied himself with his phone, only looking up when Tony’s voice boomed out over the crowd sometime later. 

“Alright, everybody listen up!” the man yelled, clapping his hands. “We’ve located the source of the gas and the good news is that it’s a relatively easy fix. The bad news is that it’ll take a minimum of four hours. In the name of safety, none of you can return to the building until it’s deemed safe to do so. Your landlord and building technicians will get in contact as soon as they’ve been given the okay for you to return home. In the meantime, I suggest you go visit friends, family, or find a nice coffee shop while you wait!”

An immediate chorus of groans, complaints and angry remarks bubbled up, the firefighters all doing their best to marshal the situation and contain the displeasure. Peter shuffled where he sat, chewing his lower lip in frustration. 

Aunt May was half a city away and on shift; Ned was visiting his Grandma and MJ’s girlfriend had stayed the night, meaning if Peter valued his eyes he couldn’t show up at her door. 

Which meant he was probably going to spend the next four hours shivering at a Starbucks and studying on his phone. 

Great. 

“You good, kid?” the voice was joined by a pair of turnout clad legs and Peter looked up, tossing his phone between his hands. Out in the natural light Captain Stark was even more handsome, a strange mix between rugged and polished. 

“Um, yeah. Just...Trying to decide which coffee shop I’m gonna move into,” he sighed, offering a weak smile. The Captain looked thoughtful. 

“Little thing like you, Mom and Dad weren’t just out getting milk?” his tone was teasing but curious. Peter shook his head. 

“Uh, no. I don’t...I did live with my Aunt. But I graduated highschool early and got a scholarship for the Manhattan Institute of Advanced Sciences. That shitty little studio is all mine,” he rattled the keys in his pocket and shifted. His butt had warmed the step some, but it still wasn’t exactly comfortable. 

As if sensing his discomfort the man shifted, peeling himself out of the huge, heavy turnout jacket. “Here, sit up a little,” the man coaxed, crouching down. Peter found himself enveloped in the jacket as Captain Stark wrapped it around him and tucked it under his ass and thighs, pulling it shut so it cocooned him in the heat. 

It smelt of soap and aftershave and maybe a little bit of sweat, and Peter found himself relaxing immediately, giving a hum of pleased satisfaction. 

Tony was smiling at him when he opened his eyes again and he flushed, saved from embarrassment by a tall, lithe man approaching. 

“Cap, we got ‘em all squared. Company is on the way for the fix. The one-five-nine offered to stay and play babysitter. We’re clear to move out.” The man had a purple band-aid on his right brow and did a double-take when he looked down at Peter. “We get a new recruit, Cap?”

Captain Stark looked thoughtfully between Peter and the man, fingers curling around his waistband.

“Alright. Barton, round up the others, call to move out. Have the one-five-nine use radio line six if they need us. We’re bringing back a station puppy.”

‘Barton’ glanced at Peter again, eyes raking over him before he did something between a smile and a smirk. “Copy that,” he confirmed, spinning on his heel and jogging off. 

“Huh?” was all Peter could think to say. 

“You’ve got nowhere better to go and you’ll freeze without getting changed. I’ve got some spare clothes at the station and you can hole up on the couch until we get the go-ahead to send you home. Rogers can cook, so let’s see if we can’t put a good breakfast in that belly,” Tony responded, nudging him up and out of the way so he could open the truck door. 

And that was how Peter found himself wedged into the truck with Clint Barton, Thor Odinson and Steve Rogers. They crammed a spare headset on him and grilled him on student life as they drove, Captain Stark chiming in from the front of the truck. 

The station they pulled into was huge, newly renovated and vast. Firefighter Thor set two hands on his hips, lifting him out of the truck easily and setting him down on the floor, ruffling his hair before dogpiling onto Steve, both of them stumbling and grappling away, arguing in snippets about door breaches. 

A little dazed, he startled when a hand fell to his back again and turned, flushing when Captain Stark smirked at him and nudged him towards the locker room. The others were already there, stripping out of their turnouts and talking animatedly. 

Peter was divested of the jacket but was given a thicker, warmer hoodie emblazoned with ‘NYPD’ and ‘Stark’, the older man rooting around in a locker for a moment before producing a pair of sweats. 

They were baggy but he double-tied them and rolled up the ankles and found them more than comfortable, shyly thanking the man. Tony was watching him, eyes dark again with that hidden thought, before he seemingly shook himself out of it and herded Peter towards a set of steps. 

Upstairs was a kitchen space and a small common area with two couches and a TV. Barton immediately handed him a steaming mug of herbal tea and Captain Stark ushered him to the table and after several minutes of sitting in their midst and listening to firefighting stories, Steve placed a plate of toast, beans, bacon and eggs under his nose. 

“Eat it before Barton mauls you for it,” Steve advised with a grin, sinking into the seat opposite him and stretching out, one arm slung around the back of Thor’s chair. Peter took the warning and dug in, shamelessly moaning at the taste. The eggs had been seasoned and there was something in the butter on the toast that made it rich and almost a little salty. 

“Better than sex, huh kid?” Tony teased from his side and Clint gasped, throwing his hands over Peter’s ears. 

“He doesn’t know what that is yet!”

After breakfast he was bundled onto the couch, handed a mug of tea to keep his hands warm and the remote to the TV as the others stomped down the staircase, citing organising their gear.

The alarm blared out as he was watching a nature documentary and he leaned over the balcony rail just in time to watch them leaping into the truck, flushing as the Captain shot him a wink before shutting the truck door, it’s sirens wailing and lights flashing as it pulled out of the bay.

They weren’t gone that long, but when the truck pulled back into the bay it was covered in dust and dirt. 

He padded down the staircase, pulling on the sleeves of his hoodie as he watched them all descend from the vehicle. They looked a little dusty and grimy, but otherwise unharmed. 

“Winch rescue up on the hiking trails,” Clint informed him as he jogged past, beelining for a room just past the lockers. “I’ve got dust in places it doesn't belong!”

The worst of them all was Steve, who’d apparently tripped over the winch line and gone tumbling down the hillside. He was largely unhurt, but he was also the last one out of the showers thanks to needing some extra scrubbing. 

“C’mon, kid. Time to earn your keep,” Tony teased once they were clean and dressed in LAFD shorts and shirts. They were filling buckets and bringing out plastic boxes full of soaps and polish, and he almost whimpered when he realised they were going to clean the truck. 

He was practically living a piece of fanfiction. 

Or torture. Either one was applicable. 

It took exactly ten minutes for someone to lose their shirt. Peter didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that it was Steve, who flexed his pecs with a wink when he caught Peter staring. As if not to be outdone, Thor immediately tugged his shirt over his head, baring an even bigger, beefier torso that fed the red flames burning up Peter’s cheeks. 

“Alright, show offs. Stop preening and get cleaning,” Tony barked at them good-naturedly, rolling his eyes as he handed Peter a sponge and flicked suds at the two taller blonds, who pulled faces but dove into the work with vigor. 

In an attempt to cool down his embarrassment he turned his attention to the truck, scrubbing gently in broad circles to match what the others were doing. He’d never realised just how big firetrucks were and he wondered idly how often they had to do this.

“Hey, shortstack, you wanna be on top?”

“Excuse me?” Peter squeaked, rounding on Captain Stark, who smirked at him and gestured to the roof of the truck and the little side ladder.

“On the roof. Tends to get gritty up there,” the man drawled, eyeing him in thinly veiled amusement. It had to be on purpose, Peter realised. Especially when he moved to the side ladder and a set of rough hands wrapped around his hips, boosting him up several rungs.

He settled down to scrub, listening to the soundtrack of the station and the men below, peering over the edge now and then to watch them or to join in the conversation. It was dizzying - having them all grinning up at him, sunny and sparkling and half-naked.

Mercifully, there wasn’t too much more teasing as they scrubbed and buffed and wiped. He wasn’t sure his cheeks could take getting any hotter - but then, where safer to combust but in the middle of a firehouse?

Captain Stark helped him down from the roof again with the same hold around his hips, thumbs rubbing brief circles along the ridges of the bones before the man stepped aside with a quirked smile.

“Hungry, kid?”

“If I don’t get fed soon I might start chewing off my own foot,” he harrumphed with a grin, ducking his head when Clint barked a laugh and ruffled his hair.

“Kid after my own stomach,” the man drawled, taking the steps three at a time in a way that Peter and his short legs watched enviously. 

Lunch was buffet bits like potato chips and little sponge-cake fingers and fruit, which Peter didn’t mind at all. He threw grapes into Clint’s mouth and arm-wrestled Steve and deliberately paid no attention at all to where Captain Stark’s leg pressed against his own under the table.

In the grand five hour total that he was there they got called out twice more, once for a tree rescue (a man who’d tried to save money by cutting his own yard tree, not a cat, much to Peter’s disappointment) and a small kitchen fire that left them bitching for a full hour afterwards about how people needed to stop trying to be Gordon Ramsey when they could barely cook packet ramen.

And then, just when the others were beginning to get shift about nearing their time to come off rotation, Peter’s phone rang. 

It was his landlord, sounding gruff and disinterested as he informed Peter the apartment had been deemed safe to re-enter, although all aparts were going to be required to keep their gas appliances off for the night and their windows open.

The others had stopped milling around in the locker room and listened in with thinly concealed interest, offering nods and smiles when it was revealed Peter was safe to hit home.

“Just on time, huh?” Steve beamed at him, ruffling his hair. 

“Aw, man. Do we have to give him back?” Clint whined in protest, swooping down to wrap himself around Peter like a clingy mink shrug. Peter giggled, tucking himself into the hold and putting on a pretend pout.

Truthfully; he didn’t want to leave. At first he’d been apprehensive about being stuck in a building with a bunch of strange men, but over the course of the day he’d come to cherish their family dynamic and the easy, comfortable companionship.

“You knew he was on loan, you layabouts,” Tony chastised them fondly, rolling his eyes. When his crew had been bullied into resuming their prep to leave, Captain Stark sank onto the bench next to Peter.

“You want a ride back, kid? I live past that area anyway and it’s my fault you’re so far out from home,” he noted with a warm smile, tugging on a boot and stooping to lace it.

Peter bit at his lower lip. Technically; he should say no. He didn’t actually know this man, and being a firefighter meant nothing for how trustworthy he was.

But…

“You don’t mind?” he asked lightly.

“It would be Captain’s honor,” Thor assured him with a wink. And that was that, the others finished dressed and they moved out to the parking lot as a herd, Peter trailing awkwardly along behind Tony towards a sleek, red and gold Audi.

He was hugged and ruffled and treated to a sizable farewell from the others, each of them pointedly telling him not to be a stranger as they piled into their vehicles and drove off in a cloud of muted music and squealing tyres.

When he turned around Tony had slipped over to the car and stood with the passenger door open, stooped into a half bow.

The interior was crisp and clean and smelt like fresh linen when he sank into the seat, tucking his legs in carefully. Tony slid into the driver’s side like he lived to be behind the wheel of a flashy car, slipping on a dark pair of shades and letting his window slide down.

Tony switched radio on to a smooth rock station and Peter let himself relax in the seat, phone still clutched carefully in hand just in case, but thoroughly enjoying the rumble of the car and the way Tony looked behind the wheel.

They didn’t speak much on the way but Peter snuck several glances at the other man, shivering through a bolt of unsteady heat each time Tony caught the motion and tipped his head, smirking at him from behind those shaded lenses.

The apartment building loomed up on them far too soon, signalling the end of a day Peter was confident he’d keep in his memories right up until his last breath.

(And if it tempted him to maybe one day set fire to his kitchen a little bit, well.)

Tony pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot, leaning casually back in his seat. 

“Maybe you should, um, check my apartment?”

It took Peter a moment to realise he was the one who’d spoken, mortified as Tony pushed down his shades to peer at him over the rims with an arched brow.

“To, uh, um…” Peter squirmed on his seat, doing his best not to think about how it was the other man’s clothes he was wearing. “Make sure it’s safe. I mean, I’ve built up a little trust. With you. Who knows if the other guys missed something?”

And what he wouldn’t give for a sinkhole to just swallow him up right then.

But to his surprise Captain Stark just peered at him for another moment, then smiled. “Sure thing, kid. The other’s’d never forgive me anyway if I let you die off in the night.”

With cheeks hot enough to sear a steak, Peter slipped out of the car and practically ran for the building, hyper aware of Tony’s presence beside him as they ascended the steps. God, he was so fucking stupid. Tony was probably going to poke around the apartment a little, open the window then skip on back home and tell his wife all about the strange kid he’d had to babysit all day.

His hands were shaking as he unlocked his door but if the man noticed he said nothing, stepping in behind him and pushing the door gently shut. Peter toed off his boots by the door and turned, watching the man roam the apartment, sniffing here and there and opening the window in the kitchenette.

“Hey, come here,” Tony’s voice called when he was plugging his phone in. Jamming the cord into the device, he bounced out of the room and slid to a halt next to Tony, who held a hand out to steady him. “Do you feel that?”

“What?” Peter asked in confusion, head tilting. 

“Sexual tension,” Tony grinned at him, winking terribly. 

“Wha-- Oh,” Peter rocked back on his heels, cheeks blazing. 

“You’re not subtle, kid. I got ribbed the whole day out over it,” Tony teased him, reaching out to ever so gently tuck one of Peter’s mahogany curls behind his ear.

“Sorry?” Peter tried, fingers curling around the cuffs of his - Tony’s - hoodie.

“I know a way you can make it up to me,” the only man purred, leaning in a little closer. And then all at once he softened, head tilting a little. “Only, of course, if you want to.”

“Aren’t you… Married?” Peter asked hesitantly, even as his heart kicked up a notch and heat gave a lazy spark between his lips. Tony’s brows shot towards his hairline.

“Not since I last checked, no,” Tony answered, sounding terribly amused. “Where did you get that thought?”

And oh, no. The last thing Peter was going to do was tell Tony he thought the man was so attractive it was feasibly impossible for him to not be taken. His ego would get so big he’d float off to space and then where would Peter be?

Instead of answering he shifted, bracing his hands on Tony’s chest and rising onto his tiptoes so he could press a chaste kiss to Tony’s mouth, the man’s stubble tickling the corner of his mouth before he pulled away, shrinking in on himself and rubbing at his lower lip.

Tony blinked down at him for a moment. Then he shifted, leaning down to wrap his hands around Peter’s thigh and hip, lifting him up with a flex of work-honed muscles. Peter clutched at his shoulders, legs automatically wrapping around Tony’s waist.

It was a new kind of novelty; to feel thick, corded muscle beneath his palms, to feel the cut of it between his thighs, to feel the scrape of stubble over his jaw and his mouth. All of Peter’s other partners had been close to his own age and relatively close in terms of build and body.

A few strides had Peter’s back pressed against the wall where he let his head fall back with a thump, mouth falling open on a whine.

“Look at you having your five minutes of bravery,” Tony teased him, shifting one leg so his thigh helped to hold Peter’s weight, fingers flexing against his skin. “What happened to the quiet little kid who burnt up anytime he looked my way?”

Peter had nothing to say, shivering through a hiccupped sound when something thick and hard rode the crease of his thigh and hip, hot between the layers of fabric that separated them. Instead of answering he pawed at the man’s shirt, desperately wanting to see the carved flesh beneath it.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want,” Tony soothed him, adjusting them both before he helped to tug on the fabric, muscles shifting and bunching as he worked it over his head and threw it off somewhere to the side.

“Oh,” Peter choked, setting his palms down on the plane of Tony’s stomach. He was beautiful; tanned skin marred with a smattering of scars that stood out pink and pale. He knew better than to focus on them but he couldn’t help running his thumb over a half-moon scar at the bottom of Tony’s pectoral.

“Emergency field incision,” Tony murmured, nipple peaking at the close touch. “Had to mesh-wall my heart.”

Peter had no words for that, either. In all the fun of the firehouse he’d almost forgotten the reality of such a dangerous job. He ran his thumb gently over it again, as if to kiss it, and tightened his legs to bring Tony into him again.

It made them press together in a delicious, warm friction, Tony’s pupils dilating further when Peter tried to stifle the noise the touch prompted. He was squeezed back into the wall as Tony leaned down, catching his mouth in a slick, gentle kiss. 

“Hey, kid,” Tony murmured against his mouth, leaning back just enough to speak, teeth scraping over his swollen lower lip.

“Hm?” Peter whimpered, trying to tilt his head to reach him again.

“You wanna see why they call me Captain Firehose?”

Peter’s lashes fluttered as he looked up, mouth dropping open for a moment of pure, unadulterated suspense.

“That was awful,” he groaned with a giggle, tickled by the cheesy line and rendered pink-cheeked by the soft, fond look at Tony fixed him with.

“Made you smile, though,” Tony purred, adjusting his hold as he ducked down to press a kiss to Peter’s cheek, lips trailing over the warm skin before he pulled back and away, muscles flexing as he held Peter up without the support of the wall.

Blushing harder, Peter wound his arms around the man’s neck. “Okay, Captain. Show me how to handle your hose,” he whispered, yelping and laughing when Tony spun them around towards the bedroom with a grin.

[jokerscrazybrilliant]

Survive - Chapter 1 - (Captain Rex)

Idk why I'm so nervous to post this lol, but I'm new here, anyhow, I've been re-watching Clone Wars and re-fawning over the incredible Captain Rex, so um, here's the maybe beginning to something? I kind of don't know how to judge my own writing so I hope this isn't totally sucky lol..

ANYHOW CHAPTER 1 !! XD

Also out now:

Chapter 2 · Chapter 3 · Chapter 4

Story on other platforms:

AO3 · Quotev

________

sur·vive /sərˈvīv/ verb Continue to live or exist, especially in spite of danger or hardship. Similar: live · continue · remain · last · persist · endure · persevere · abide · linger · exist · be • continue to live or exist in spite of (an accident or ordeal). • remain alive after the death of (a particular person). • manage to keep going in difficult circumstances.

________

Darkness. Everywhere. Not just a lack of light, but the feeling of being lost and directionless, the great darkness that spread endlessly in every direction. And I was alone in it, unable to watch my step, I stumbled over my feet as I ran. Run. Run. RUN.

“MASTER!” The shout tore itself from my throat painfully as I shot up in bed, sweating and in a panic. Breathing heavily, I put a hand to my chest, feeling my heart pounding painfully rapidly. I tried to control my breathing as I blinked away tears, making my way to the refresher, the bright lights of Coruscant’s horizon making their way into the room through the window.

The shower helped calm me down and I got dressed in my tan and brown jedi robes, making my way to the balcony to meditate until sunrise.

Today the council would be informing me of their decision on my future. When I lost my master so close to being ready to take my tests to be knighted, the council was unsure of which path would be best for me. To assign me as a Padawan to a new master or to get me to take the tests early, neither seemed an easy option. I took a deep breath and let my mind quiet as I felt the force flow through and around me. Whatever may come would be for the best, I just had to keep my mind open and accept things as they were.

***

Standing there in front of the council, most of what was said passed around me in a haze. All of the comments on how what had happened was unfortunate, but the force willed it so, the comments on how it would make me a stronger Jedi to learn patience detachment and strength from this particular trial. While this was all true, I wasn’t in a place where I wanted to hear these words. I just wanted to know what their decision was so I could carry on without thinking about what happened.

“-so we believe that it would be best if you served under another Jedi master, not necessarily as his Padawan, but just to gain some more experience before you are ready to take the tests for your knighthood. And you would also be assisting him in leading his battalion and helping him plan strategies for key missions. This is a great opportunity, so I hope that you will make the best of it, and I’m sure you will, we have faith in you Nimra.”

“Thank you Master Windu,” I bowed my head to him respectfully. “Might I ask to which Jedi Master I am being assigned?”

At my question a half smile and a nearly playful twinkle appeared in the Master’s eye. “Anakin Skywalker. He is a very skilled Jedi, and things would certainly never be dull.”

I gave a slight smile in response and bowed once more to the council. “Thank you for the opportunity masters, I will do my best to make you proud.” With that I made my exit, sagging slightly once the door closed behind me.

Master Skywalker, huh? I had met him a few times with my previous master on certain missions, and Master Windu’s comment made perfect sense to me. Things would certainly be interesting, but I was just hoping to keep my head down and get through the next few months with him until I could take my tests.

***

He was late. This was a wonderful start. He was late, and he was arriving in an old trash pile of a ship, one that looked like it was found in a junkyard on an outer-rim moon somewhere. “Nimra!” He called my name joyfully as he made his way down the ramp with a small blue astromech and a young orange skinned Togruta following him.

“Master Skywalker.” I bowed my head respectfully and gave him a small smile.

“I’m so sorry to hear about what happened to your master. He was a great Jedi Master and it’s truly a loss to the republic and the Jedi Order.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Of course. I’d like you to meet my Padawan, Ahsoka Tano, Snips this is Nimra Sayla.” I bowed my head to the padawan as well and she returned it with a smile. “Nimra will be joining us for a while, and we will be lucky to have her, I’ve fought on the battlefield with her, and she is a force to be reckoned with.”

“You’re too kind, Master.”

“You’re nearly knighted yourself Nim, stop calling me that would ya?” He laughed at my formality, and I gave a small chuckle myself.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Master – Master Diya thought highly of professionalism and formalities.” I kept the smile even though saying my old Master’s name caused a sharp stinging pain in my heart. Anakin put his hand on my shoulder and gave me an understanding smile, which I appreciated immensely.

“Well, we should get going if we’re going to make the rendezvous with the rest of the fleet.” Anakin turned to climb back up the ramp before the astromech gave a series of agitated beeps at the Jedi. “Oh, you’re right, how could I forget. This, is R2-D2.” He laughed as he introduced the droid to me, it beeping appreciatively and spinning it’s head around slightly.

“Hello R2-D2, it’s nice to meet you.” I gave the droid a grin as we all made our way into the ship, me biting my tongue as not to comment on how this junk pile would possibly make the trip through hyperspace.

***

“Home sweet home.” Anakin commented as we made our way into the hangar of his Jedi cruiser we had met up with.

“Welcome back, General.” A clone trooper with the blue paint of the 501st met us as we descended. He was holding his helmet under his left arm, and he had buzzed bleached hair, with no other specific markings unlike many clones who chose to tattoo themselves or get very unique haircuts to set them apart from their comrades. Of course, being someone with the force, I could feel the energy signatures within people rather than just seeing their outsides, and that had always helped keep track of the clones, who while they had the same DNA, each had their own very different and unique personalities. “I see we’ve picked up a new recruit?”

“Thank you, and yes, Captain Rex, meet Nimra Sayla.” Anakin introduced us, gesturing his hands between us before focusing on an information disc R2 was giving him.

“Nice to meet you General.” The Captain gave me a salute.

“Oh, no, not quite. I’m not actually a Jedi Knight yet.” I gave him a slightly sheepish smile.

“Ah, sorry about that Commander.”

“That’s quite alright.”

“You’re not a padawan but also not a knight yet?” Ahsoka inquired from beside me.

“Uh, no, not yet. My master, he died before I could take my tests, so I’m going to complete my remaining trainings here with you until I can take them.” I was acutely aware of the pity entering Ahsoka’s eyes, but thankfully the clone did not show that same emotion, rather just a slight understanding of my situation.

“Sorry to hear that Sir.” Rex said, still standing at attention.

“Yeah, I’m sorry too.” Ahsoka said sweetly.

“It’s really okay, but thank you.”

“Alright, me and Ahsoka have to go prepare a debrief, and discuss how when I say ‘let’s go’, it means ‘let’s go’, and not ‘take your time Ahsoka’.” I chuckled at Anakin’s words.

“But Master, if I hadn’t stayed as long as we needed, we would’ve never gotten the information we needed!” She retorted, pointing at the disc in his hand.

“Yeah yeah, that’s not the point, Snips. Anyway, Rex, can you show Nimra around and to her quarters please?”

“Yes, of course Sir.” The captain saluted again and then turned to me as Anakin and Ahsoka walked away, still bickering.

“Are they always like that?” I asked, small smile still on my face.

“Yes Sir, for the most part.” His response made me turn to look at him in the eyes, serious expression taking over my features.

“I will do whatever it takes, whatever it takes, to get you to stop calling me that.” The moment he recognized my joking, some of his seriousness dissolved, and a small half smile appeared on his face.

“Whatever it takes?” He inquired, arching an eyebrow.

“I will personally make the trip to the end of the galaxy and back, on THAT scrap pile, with an agitated blurrg as my copilot, just to get you to stop calling me ‘sir’.” I pointed at Anakin’s ship behind me, serious expression never cracking even as I gained a full smile from the captain, which made my heart warm slightly.

“Well in that case, Commander.”

“That’s not any better!” I exclaimed, laughing as he grinned at me.

“Shall we begin the tour?” He offered, arm outstretched in the direction we would begin with.

“Yes, Captain.” My grin remained as he began to show me around. This will be interesting indeed.

[asset35-maya]

Nice Things

Inspired by this spectacular drawing of long-haired Nines by @marndraws

Gavin Reed never had nice things.

Every day was a fight for survival. He studied hard, worked hard and did everything he could to come out on top… but he never had nice things. If he did, they wouldn’t last.

Then the most beautiful creature to walk the planet entered his life.

A sheer scientific miracle. A combined feat of engineering and art. The most advanced android ever built… and the kindest soul the mean city of Detroit had ever seen.

Nines.

Gavin had no idea how to interact with the RK900 in the beginning. If it were any other new partner he’d have been his usual abrasive self, but there was something about the android that left him dumbstruck. No insults came to mind, so Gavin stuck to silent cooperation (and obedience, actually).

The RK900 model was designed to be aesthetically pleasing. There was no doubt about that, but it was how the android carried himself that took things to another level entirely. Poise, elegance and flair touched everything that he said and did.

It extended to the way he transformed his appearance after deviancy. Nines shed his Cyberlife uniform with the harsh turtleneck and stiff jacket in favour of softer, more delicate garments. He still stuck to dark colours, but his clothes were all loose and flowing. He dressed more like an interior decorator than a homicide detective (and it honestly served him well).

Gavin often had to tear his gaze away from the refined fabrics and unconventional styles that Nines wore. Gavin never had nice things… but he certainly had an eye for them.

And then there was Nines’ hair…

When Gavin had first seen the change from the default appearance settings, he had to leave the station, find a quiet alley and focus on bringing his breathing back to normal.

Nines… for some unknown, wild, spectacular, unprecedented, utterly amazing reason… had decided to lengthen his hair and let it hang loose around his shoulders.

The dark tresses were as expressive as the android himself. They danced when he laughed. They whipped the air when he animatedly told a story with his steel blue eyes flashing. They shone in every damn light.

Gavin couldn’t help but stare. He never had nice things… but he was drawn to them.

Not a day went by that he didn’t want to reach out and tuck the fine strands behind Nines’ ear, but he held back from giving in to such insanity.

Nines didn’t hold himself back though.

For all the times Gavin had been looking, so had he. He made his move in the middle of a very boozy Christmas party at the DPD. It didn’t take much of an effort. They left the party together on the flimsy pretext of Nines showing Gavin his Christmas lights at home… and promptly fell into bed together.

Gavin had never had nice things… but he knew exactly what he wanted, and when they were presented to him on a silver platter, he knew how to take them.

Nines’ hair was as soft as he imagined and even silkier than he dreamed. He couldn’t stop running his fingers through the lifelike synthetic fibres and Nines couldn’t seem to get enough of his touch either.

Bliss.

On the third anniversary of the Christmas party, the pair found themselves in very much the same position, only that they didn’t actually make it to the mindless office event this time. The day started and ended in bed.

Fairy lights glittered and tastefully-chosen tinsel framed the snow-laden windows of their loft apartment. The large Christmas tree emanated a warm glow that reached even the bedroom where they lay tangled in the sheets.

Nines was draped over Gavin’s chest, his fingers skimming idly across the warm skin.

“Sweetheart…”

“Nines.”

Gavin’s wary tone of voice made the android laugh. A velvet sound that the human would follow to the ends of the earth.

“What’s the thing you love most about me?”

Gavin exhaled loudly, hugging Nines closer.

“Baby, you know I ain’t good at words and shit.”

“I’m not asking you to write me a poem. Just tell me what you love most about me.”

He sighed and stared at the ceiling.

“Is this a test?”

“I don’t have to test you. I know everything there is to know about you. I can read you like a book even with my analysis software turned off.”

“Uh huh. Then why the inquisition?”

“Because validation is nice.”

Gavin snorted and carded his fingers though Nines’ gorgeous hair.

“Guess I can start by applauding your honesty.”

Nines hummed, rubbing slow circles into Gavin’s pec with his thumb. A few minutes went by and Gavin began to drift off to sleep.

“So what’s more attractive to you? My personality or my looks?”

Gavin’s eyes snapped open in alarm.

“What the ph-”

“There’s no right or wrong answer. Just tell me.”

Nines propped himself up on his elbows and peered into Gavin’s face. It was truly a magnificent sight. Two piercing blue eyes… plush lips curling into a smirk… a cyan LED… and a perfectly arched eyebrow. A pale, angular face… framed by sweeping curtains of dark, glossy hair.

Gavin gulped.

“I can’t choose. You’re the total package.”

“Cop out.”

“Pfffft. You tell me then. What do you like better? My mug or my sharp wit? Hah. Betcha can’t answer that for all the complex calculations your supercomputer brain can do.”

Nines tossed his hair over his shoulder and elevated himself further, pressing his forearms onto Gavin. His fixation with the human’s muscular chest was no secret.

“I can.”

“Huh.”

“You hardly said anything when we first met so I had nothing to go off for your personality-”

“Maybe I was mysterious and aloof and ya just couldn’t resist.”

“No, I actually thought you were kind of slow. All your medals and service awards didn’t make any sense to me.”

“Wowww.”

“So it had to be your body. Why else would anyone keep you around?”

“Is that why you stuck around too?”

“Maybe.”

“You little-”

Gavin reversed their positions on the bed, flipping Nines onto his back and curling huge biceps around his lithe body. Nines tipped his head back to allow Gavin to drag his teeth across his throat and latch onto his collarbone. Some moments passed like that until Nines regained control by hooking a leg over the human’s waist to slow him down.

“Fine. I confess. It was the leather jacket.”

“Seriously?”

Nines dug his heel into Gavin’s coccyx.

“It was everything about your appearance that you had control over… or weren’t born with at least. For instance, your face is conventionally attractive, but it’s all the lines and scars and little things that made me wonder what kind of a life you’d lived… what you might have gone through... how you came out stronger. And yes, your body is a temple, but it’s the work you put into it that I admire. You know how to take care of yourself and that’s…”

“Hot?”

“Hot.”

Nines accepted a rather sloppy kiss with grace. He rubbed his hands up and down his partner’s back.

“So. Tell me. What was it for you? What is it for you?”

Gavin’s right hand subconsciously found its way into Nines’ long hair and caressed his scalp. He sighed into the crook of Nines’ neck and took in the familiar scent that was neither entirely human nor entirely artificial. Everyone expected androids to smell like a new car but the fact was that each of them had their own unique smell. It was impossible to describe in words, but it was one of the many many things Gavin loved about Nines.

“Babe, I think you’re asking a shit ton of questions, but none of them are what you actually wanna ask.”

“Say more.”

“Gavin, do you love me because I look like a Greek god or is it because I’m smart as phck? Gavin, what did you notice first about my sexy android ass? Does the same thing get you off today, or is it something else?

I think… there’s something you already know… or something you think you know… and you’re just trying to get me to say it and dig myself into a giant hole.”

Nines didn’t respond but his LED did. Gavin chuckled and pressed his lips to the spinning yellow light.

“Called it.”

Nines rolled his eyes.

“It’s my hair, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“Admit it, you’re obsessed with my hair.”

“And you’re obsessed with my tits. We take turns objectifying each other. First sign of a healthy relationship.”

The android’s sharp nose scrunched up at a particular word and Gavin closed his eyes in resignation. Despite his best efforts he’d walked right into the trap.

“Dammit, babe, I didn’t mean it like that. I would never ever see you as an object-”

“My, my… we’re lying here two years to the day we became…”

“A thing.”

“Yes. And here I am reminiscing about what made you even look at me in the first place… and it turns out the credit goes more to Cyberlife than it does to me.”

Gavin groaned while his lover’s tinkling laughter rang out. He had to think fast if he had to turn the tables.

“So I’m that slow?”

Nines looked back at him, confused.

“You just dragged MY instincts. Like I’m dumb enough to fall for a program written by some geeky little code nerd. Like it was all totally predetermined and I didn’t see you tease and flirt and practically fall over yourself trying to get my attention for months. Huh?”

Gavin tightened his grip and gave his partner an affirmative shake.

“All those outfits and nail colours and pointy shoes and sparkly, shiny things. You saw me looking and you just kept stepping it up.”

He grasped Nines’ jaw and kissed him firmly.

“And your hair, baby… yeah, some genius worked on the tech at some point… but they didn’t tell you how to wear it. They didn’t tell you about the length or cut or angle. They didn’t tell you to walk around looking like a phcking prince. They didn’t tell you to roll the car windows down on the highway so your hair could fly in my face and drive me phcking crazy…”

Gavin thrust his fingers into the dark locks and pulled the android back in for a series of open-mouthed kisses and tantalising swipes of his tongue. Nines started to reciprocate physically, but Gavin swatted his hands away, not wanting to let things go further without making it clear who had gained the upper hand in their ridiculous game. He broke away panting.

“I love you. Don’t ask me why because there isn't one single reason. And I phcking love your hair. Not just ’cause it’s pretty but ’cause you’re the only motherphcker in that precinct who’d show up to the gristliest of crime scenes looking like a runway model.”

They stared at each other. Nines’ LED flickered.

“I… wow, sweetheart… okayyy… I… love you too.”

A moment of silence passed and Gavin rounded things off with his classic double wink.

“You’re welcome.”

Nines smiled, accepting defeat. He reached up and carefully rearranged his hair, letting it fan out on the pillow. Unable to keep the smile off his face, Gavin dipped his head down and returned his lips to Nines’, kissing him under the covers until his LED spun bright blue.

Gavin Reed never had nice things… until he learnt how to take good care of them.

//

Part 2: Red Dress

[asingleheart-shapedbraincell]

Obey Me Brothers and Misc. react to MC having their coffee order memorised

GN!MC

Prologue

You go to a coffee shop. Human world or devildom, doesn't matter. All that matters is after waiting in line you order for you and Ya Boi bc you have their order memorised and they get flustered because every single one of them is a ✨massive softie✨

This is also just me headcanoning their drink orders while I take a break from my dissertation.

(I'm referring to the undateables as Misc. because I don't want to call the the datables bc Luke is a child. He is not datable. That is my son.)

Lucifer

This man would take his coffee in an IV if he could and you can't convince me otherwise

Probably asks that they put as many extra espresso shots in the drink as they're legally allowed to

Anyway, he's very touched that you have his order memorised. He has yours memorised to.

Appreciates that you pay enough attention to him to know his order

Low-key blushing about it and will think about it next time he makes himself coffee

Might even end up making you one to if he isn't working late

Definitely goes for coffee with you more often (definitely not to spend more time with you and also to show that he has your order memorised too 👀)

Mammon

This man is destroyed by any kind of casual affection (pls hold his hand)

I mean, of course you know the great Mammon's coffee order! You were his human weren't ya?

If you're ordering for him, that means you're paying, right? 👀

He do be blushing tho (if you also pay he'll blush even more)

And since you bought it, I GUESS you can have a sip...definitely doesn't just want the casual and domestic intimacy of sharing the same cup

Wants to get coffee with you more often (so he can drink from your cup)

Levi

How did you know the code to order the Ruri-Chan Loveheart Surprise Latte off of the secret menu??????

Oh, you knew it because you listened to him order before and memorised it????????????

Hes not crying, you're crying

No but really, the proof that you actively listen to him when he's talking about his interests has his heart skipping a beat

Hes bright red and trying to cover his face with his hands

Wants to get two straws so you two can sit opposite each other and share a drink but is WAY to shy to ask 🥺👉👈

Will end up buying matching reusable coffee cups that have 'player one' and 'player two' on them

Satan

For the most part he’ll order something basic like an Americano or a flat white UNLESS you're at a place that does latte art.

Then he ALWAYS gets cat themed latte art

Like the little 3D ones they make out of foam and then draw little faces on???

Yeah, he loves them

He think they're so cute

They're in most of his devilgram pics next to whatever book he was reading at the time

One of his favourite things to do is visit cat cafe with you and if you remember his order he'll be very touched and he'll thank you with a blush and a smile

Has your order memorised as well and orders for you next time

Asmo

Changes with whats fashionable but anything ✨pink✨

Pink drink, peach lemonade, strawberry and white chocolate mocha they're all acceptable

But is delighted when you remember his order- it means you've been paying attention to the trends he's following!!!!!

Did you see the drink on his devilgram story????? Isn't it cute!!!!!! You should get one to match and take a selfie together!!!!

Thinks its really cute to go on coffee dates and hear you order for him

Like, yes, they know my order 😌 we're that close 😙✌

Beel

Just hand him a basic Americano, but in a Big Gulp cup

Is touched that you remembered his order, even if it is simple. He just kinda blushes and thanks you (maybe asks if you want to go out dinner that evening).

Make sure he’s fed, or has food available bc if you don’t he will eat ✨The Beans✨

He has done this before and you DO NOT want to see Beel when he has enough caffiene in his system to give a mortal cardiac arrest

He’s already the most athletic brother. You won’t catch him. No one will.

You know Taz from Looney Tunes? When he just...spins super fast in circles and eats stuff??? Yeah, Beel’s like that.

But if he doesn’t eat straight-up coffee beans, he’s just as chill as normal

Just enjoys spending some quality time with you (and yes, he will definitely have your order memorised too)

Belphie

Must!!!!!keep!!!!this!!!!!boy!!!!!awake!!!!!!!

If you remember his order he’s gonna blush, but do his best not to react. But he may also feel the need to Hold Hands later in the day because you’ll have him feeling ✨soft✨.

Has a black coffee but puts, like, 5 sugars in it

He’s basically drinking espresso syrup

and it does NOTHING

Caffiene does not affect this man AT. ALL.

It’s almost scary - he can down 3 espressos and then nap for five hours afterwards

Doesn’t love going on coffee dates because if you’re too caffinated he has trouble keeping up with you, and you won’t feel like having a nap with him. But if you’re just having one coffee, or a tea or something, he does like how chilled out the date can be.

Diavolo

I get grande iced machiatto vibes, and I can’t tell you why

Loves that you remember his order and isn’t shy about it. Will blush at first and then break into a massive beaming smile

He’s paying for the coffee (he’s literally royalty, he’s paying for the damn coffee)

Makes him feel like you two are close and he may attempt to hold hands later if the vibe is right.

Constantly asks you out on coffee dates afterwards - loves spending time with you and loves how informal and relaxed it is

Will also remember your order and make sure that Barb knows how to make it for when you visit the Palace

But still prefers the actual act of going out to a coffee shop with you

If you bring him his coffee order when he’s working, however👀👀👀...blushing mess.

The fact that you went to get coffee for him...even though he knows that you know that Barb is perfectly capable of making him coffee...that you got coffee and thought of him...and bought a coffee for him...and brought it to him...the casual affection, the softness, the thoughtfulness. 😳😳😳 he’s destroyed. BLUSHING. He’s literally so touched. Gonna commit hand holding crimes. Will think about it all day. Will miss you 3x more than normal just because. May even end up doing some light ~pining~ 🥺🥺🥺

Barbatos

✨Tea✨

This is the Undisputed King of Tea

He knows every blend of tea that the shop offers and has the menu memorised.

Will also tell you about the different tea blends if you ask, describes how they taste, what they’re ingredients are, where they’re from, etc.

He’s very grateful if you remember his order, but if you then bring up some of the trivia he’s shared about that tea?? Blushing.

Very touched that you not only remembered his order but the things about it that interest him. The fact that you clearly paid attention when he was talking about tea.

Thinks of you as a very considerate person and will offer to share

He’ll also invite you over for tea a the palace more often now that you’ve shown an interest in Tea Trivia (even if that interest is only based in your interest in him)

Will also invite you to come with him when he needs to go to the market to restock the Palaces tea supplies and may even...h...hold ur hand...😳😳😳

Simeon

This is a chai latte man, don't come for me

Will test out how it tastes with different syrups, particularly likes either hazelnut or vanilla

Can also do his own latte art

When you order for him??? And have his order memorised????? He's delighted.

Its not uncommon for angels to remember each others orders, but he's touched nonetheless (yes that does mean he has your order memorised)

Will tell you that he's touched by your consideration

Just gives him the warm fuzzies and it also kinda reminds him of home

Offers to do latte art in your drink if he can

Would also be the kind of person to bring you coffee in class, and he'll do latte art on that so you can take off the lid and see a little foamy heart and the like ❤☕

Luke (platonic)

No coffee!!!! He's a child!!!!!!

You order him a puppychino hot chocolate

With whipped cream and cinnamon which is his preferred topping and a slice of cake

Hes definitely super happy about the fact you remembered how he likes his hot chocolate

Tells you that your so nice and should come back to the celestial realm with Simeon and him instead of staying down here with a bunch of no-good demons who don't deserve you 😤

Plus the celestial realm has the best hot chocolate!

You also let him have SMALL sips of your coffee but ONLY so he can scope out which beans to use in his next coffee and walnut cake!!!!!!!

Solomon

Probably has some awful sounding custom drink like a fruit tea with pumpkin spice syrup and milk in it 😣

Or a peach lemonade with a shot of espresso and marshmallows 🤢

So its super unique, but he's still surprised you remembers the specifics

Offers to let you try it

DON’T

Will take you out to get coffee together more often, partly to spend time with you and partly to horrify you with his drink choices

[a-moth-to-the-light]

Fruits Basket Diaries, #6: Why Do I Adore Ayame So Much?

[see part 1 here]

[see part 5 here]

This is part of an ongoing series where I’ll be cataloguing my experience rereading (and finishing for the first time) the Fruits Basket manga. I’ve just finished reading up to the end of the manga, so there will be spoilers for the whole story!

Fruits Basket is full of unrequited loves, both platonic and romantic. Usually, these kind of "lost love" relationships, ones based in a history of complete infatuation on one side that isn't mirrored on the other, either turn into romance stories or are filled with distress, but Fruits Basket takes a very different approach, allowing these relationships to exist as a unique variety of affection, something soft and tender instead of fiery and dramatic. We get to see characters who feel love and admiration for those who don't quite reciprocate live peacefully with those feelings, using them as the source of a strong friendship rather than screaming them from the rooftops. These characters (Ayame, Haru, Hanajima), get to find lovers of their own while their former (and, admittedly, still a bit current) obsession (Hatori, Yuki, Tohru) does the same, but they never have to pretend their feelings don't exist--in fact, they still have loving friendships with their former obsessions, even if they aren't "the one" for them.

We also see the beginnings of these kind of relationships within Fruits Basket--Momiji watches Tohru leave with Kyo and hopes he'll find someone of his own one day; Kagura retains her affection for Kyo, even while she acknowledges his relationship with Tohru; Yuki gets a dramatic, tearful goodbye with Tohru, even as she connects with Kyo and he gets closer with Machi. For these characters, "moving on" doesn't mean leaving their feelings behind, it just means accepting new parts of life along with the old; as Hanajima puts it so beautifully, "My weakness will always be Tohru-kun". And yeah, I get that. I've spent a lot of time trying to cleanse myself of feelings, to just make them go away so everything can "be normal". Eventually, though, I found that truly accepting and loving the part of myself that fell in love with the person in the first place, the part of myself that still sees them and glows a bit, is what has truly helped me move forward in relationships like these without guilt. Because yes, there will always be people who are my weaknesses, people who I was once infatuated with and who I still have a strong attachment to, and that doesn't have to be painful. Hanajima gets the best of both worlds, it seems--she lives her own life outside of Tohru, but she also loves Tohru enough to fight for her happiness. This dynamic mirrors my experiences with some of the most important people in my life, and I think that's why each of the three pairings I mentioned earlier, ones I see as the main examples of this dynamic, is so special to me. Seeing Haru and Yuki's friendship develop as Yuki realizes how deeply Haru cares for him and starts to reach out in return was especially comforting, putting a positive spin on Haru's long-held affection instead of forcing him to "get over" it.

There's this one quote from the final volume: "But the one thing I do know is that love isn't just about loving what's in front of you. The past, the future... maybe it's about holding all of them close to your heart." Maybe past infatuations don't have to be regrettable, failures to sweep under the rug--through the relationships it shows, Fruits Basket finds the potential of the past to make the present beautiful, even when not everyone's dreams came true back then. The people I would consider my weaknesses, as Hanajima said, were, are, and will be the source of many special moments in my life. Even as I pursue relationships and goals I never would have dreamed of in my younger days, there are still people from those days I would drop everything to support, and that, Fruits Basket reminds me, is, indeed, a special kind of love.

[overwhore-s]

A Freak in a Sheet (Ghost!Bakugou x Reader) part 2 NSFW

part 1 

AO3

There are more advantages to living in a haunted house than just cheap rent. 

Warnings: swearing, sex (gender-neutral reader)

It was a shit day if you’ve ever had one, and at the end of it, you just want to curl up on the couch and binge the fuck out of Keeping up with the Kardashians. Kicking off your shoes, you call out to Bakugou.

“You wanna see what Kim’s been up to?”

“Fuck yeah I do!” He answers from the living room. You grin. You are extremely lucky to live with someone who shares your passion for cheesy reality television.

When you walk into the room, he’s already waiting for you, TV remote in hand. “You look like shit,” he observes upon seeing you. You don’t take it personally though, knowing it’s his own unique way of encouraging you to open up about what’s been troubling you.

You stifle a yawn and plop down next to him. “Tough day. Customers were acting entitled as usual. And I forgot my wallet at home, so I didn’t have enough money for lunch. Or dinner.” Honestly, worse things have happened to you. It won’t be the first, nor the last day you went without eating.

Bakugou doesn’t see it that way.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” He yells, jumping up from the couch, surprising you.  “You can’t be skipping meals!”

“It’s okay dude, I can just order takeout or something,” you try to calm him down, but Bakugou is bit like a really spitty cat when he’s angry – the more you try to soothe him with words, the more aggressive he becomes.

“No pizza for you today. No fucking way. We’re gonna cook you a real ass dinner with real ingredients,” he huffs, already on his way to the kitchen. Confused, you trail after him.

The concentrated manner in which he gathers all his supplies tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He definitely has a presence in the kitchen, like some Michelin chef. And his chopping technique! You’ve never seen anyone chop onions that fast.

“Whoa,” you say, feeling kinda awkward just standing around and letting him do all the work, “you’re really good at this.”

His cheeks redden, his hand holding the knife slowing down momentarily. “So what If I am?!”

“Man, you really need to learn how to take a compliment,” you chuckle, “what are we making, by the way?”

“Fried rice. So make yourself useful and grab me a pan and a bag of rice, would you?”

“Roger.”

You work well together, you think. While he takes care of chopping and cutting the vegetables, you heat olive oil on medium heat, waiting for that tell-tale sizzle. You soon catch yourself humming some tune you heard on the radio at work, hips swaying as you stir the vegetables, rice and meat Bakugou put in the skillet. You giggle as he makes you surrender the frying pan so that he can toss the rice, and subsequently you marvel at how expertly he’s doing it. It’s been a while since you last cooked. You almost forgot how fun it is – even more so in good company.

“A shame we don’t have cashew nuts,” said companion murmurs, frowning at the contents of the pan after they’ve been tossed and fried and spiced to his liking. He looks at it almost longingly; you can’t help but notice. Ghosts can’t smell or taste anything. Bakugou told you he feels things, like pressure or texture to a certain level, but only if he concentrates.

“Ah, well, this is a low-budget kitchen,” you wave your hand in dismissal, eager to lighten up the mood. “Never mind though! It smells absolutely delicious!” And it looks absolutely gorgeous, but you don’t say that aloud, fearing his ego might explode.

“You should taste it before serving, just to be sure,” he suggests, already bringing a spoon to your lips. You hesitate for a second, suddenly hyperaware of all the sounds, smells and sights in the kitchen. The oil sizzling. The sweet smell of spices and fried onion. Bakugou, staring at you expectantly with an undecipherable expression on his stupidly attractive face as you part your lips and slowly, tentatively lick the spoon.

He shouldn’t have need for oxygen, but his breath hitches all the same.

“So, how is it?” He asks, voice so low it’s almost a whisper.

“Delicious,” you answer, but in truth, it’s not the food you’ve been paying attention to.

He positively glows in the kitchen lights. Like some otherworldly, ethereal being, and in a way, he is one. You look at him and have to fight the impulse to touch, hold, never let go.

“That’s all?” He questions further, with that adorable frown of his.

And his lips. They look soft. If you were to kiss him, right now, right there next to the stove under the lights and in your silly little apron, would he reciprocate it?

Stop it. You’re being disgusting. He’d probably, no, certainly think so, and push you away and never talk to you again.

“Why don’t you taste it as well?” You blurt out, realizing your error far too late. The spoon has already been pushed to his mouth, conveniently open as he was about to say something – most likely tell you to get fucked – and then he swallows and his eyes widen like he’s discovered something amazing.

“You…” You start to say, only to get immediately cut off by him.

“How in hell is this possible?!” He shouts, but not angrily, more like he can’t hide his excitement. “I…could taste it. The onions. The carrots. The…the fucking chili.” He brings the spoon to his mouth one more time and here it is again – that glint in his eyes. To the evident surprise of both you and him, he laughs, a rich, beautiful sound you’ll never get sick of.

Happy Bakugou is a foreign concept, but you like it very much.

“You kidding me?!” You exclaim. “That’s excellent news! Does that mean your sense of smell is back as well?”

He sniffs the air before grinning widely. “It wasn’t there just a few minutes ago, but now there’s no mistaking it. That’s some good fucking fried rice we made, all right.”

We made. You and Bakugou, together. And for some reason he can feel like a human now? You can only speculate why that happened, but maybe your grandma would know? She’s the one who introduced you to the world of the not-living, after all. You have to ask her, gosh, she’s going to be angry with you for not giving her a call in so long – but first, first you have to hug Bakugou.

And so you do. You squeeze him for all you are worth and he responds in kind, arms wrapping around your back to press you even further into his firm chest. As always, he’s slightly cold to the touch, but warms up quickly enough.

The hug lasts for ages, and as much as you wish to fall asleep like this, the food must be getting cold. You wonder if he can eat it with you – it’s not too much to hope for, is it?! – but when you attempt to wriggle free from the embrace, he grunts and presses you against him even tighter. And that’s when you notice, when you feel it, the unmistakable hardness poking you in the lower belly.

Oh. So that works too.

This is impossible, and flattering, and far too tempting to not comment on.

“All that just from a hug?” You tease, as if you yourself weren’t practically dripping just from him spoon-feeding you.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Well, he doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You kiss him like your life depends on it. He appreciates the intensity of it, judging by the groan escaping from low in his throat, the way his hands drop from your sides to knead at your ass. He slides his tongue into your mouth, rubbing it against yours. You’re only kissing and your head is spinning already.

He nibbles at your lower lip before releasing it and looking you straight in the eye. “You want more?” He asks, urgently.

Incapable of responding verbally, you only nod.

He gives your ass one last playful squeeze before lifting you up onto the kitchen counter, the fried rice all but forgotten as you dive in for another heated kiss. Bakugou, you find, is a very hands-on kind of lover. His calloused palms venture under your shirt, exploring your smooth flesh and curves with unhidden curiosity.

“So soft,” he informs you in between kisses, making you blush even more if that’s even possible, “and you smell nice.”

You disagree, seeing as you’re in a sore need of a shower after the long day you had, but you’re not about to argue with a man who has his tongue in your mouth.

He lifts the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head, chuckling when you get trapped, and gasping when you free yourself and grind against his still clothed cock in revenge.

It soon becomes painfully clear the kitchen won’t survive you fucking in it once you knock over the bottle of chili and it spills on the ground, creating an ominous red pool.

“Bed?” You say, breathlessly, and he agrees. “Bed.”

You stumble into the bedroom as in a drunken haze, and while you remember him undressing you on your way to the bed, him becoming suddenly naked was not your doing. Well, he is a ghost. You can’t exactly say you’re bothered by it, as it saved you significant time and trouble.

“Before we do this,” you whimper as he lavishes your neck and chest with wet, open-mouthed kisses, “I need t-to tell you…”

He slides further down your body, positioning himself between your thighs. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing what he’s about to do. “B-Bakugou…”

“You can tell me later. Just relax now,” he purrs, his hands spreading your legs further apart. You close your eyes and press the side of your face into your pillow.

The very first touch of his tongue to your overheated sex is enough to send your mind reeling. You whine, wanting more pressure, but he keeps you in place, keeps teasing you with short little licks and bites to your inner thighs. It’s infuriating. Every time he brings you close to the edge, he purposefully slows down, robbing you of your release. It’s hardly fair; he hasn’t so much as felt anything in years, you’ve only gone without sex for months, so how does he find himself with so much more patience than you?

“I think you’re ready for it now,” he notes, finally reappearing from between your legs.

“I have been forever now, thanks for noticing,” you roll your eyes.

He narrows his eyes at you.  “If you don’t like it…”

“Never said I don’t! Shit…look…j-just do it already, okay?!” You bite your lip, looking at him pleadingly without actually saying please. You’ll save begging for later. Something’s telling you you’ll need it.

Bakugou’s expression is that of concentration as he aligns himself with your entrance. “Say if it hurts.”

It doesn’t. You thought it would be cold too, but he’s just as warm as a real man. He is a real man, you remind yourself. He certainly takes you like one, all hard thrusts and savage grunts as he chases his, and your release.

And God fucking damn it, he’s beautiful. Illuminated by moonlight, shining with sweat – yours? Do ghosts even sweat? – producing all those sounds that are pure music to your ears. You run your fingers through his spiky, soft blonde hair, scratch his scalp and have him reward you with a particularly deep thrust. It’s usually awkward with new lovers, not knowing what they prefer, having to learn it the hard way, but with Bakugou, you fuck like you were made for each other.

This round – because you know there will be more – looks like it’s going to be a short one. You’re too overstimulated from his earlier ministrations and Bakugou, well, he isn’t exactly pacing it out with how fast he slides in and out of you.

In the last few seconds, as need for release overdrives all his senses, he grabs onto your hips so hard you’re sure he’ll leave bruises, and buries himself into you for one last time before coming with a shudder. You’re close behind, burying your face into his shoulder while babbling incoherently. You don’t believe you ever came this hard. Your ears are ringing, heart beating fast like a hummingbird’s.

“What?” He asks, petting your hair comfortingly as you try to catch your breath. He sounds fine, if not a little dazed. His chest does not heave with uneven breaths, nor is he all red and sweaty in the face. And, the wetness sticking to your inner thighs is all your own.

“You wanted to say something, before,” he murmurs, as you begin to calm down, “so what was it?”

You meet his eyes with your own, finally. You must look like a mess, but he doesn’t seem fazed. Instead he stares at you like you’re the only thing on Earth he doesn’t hate, and the feeling’s mutual.

“I love you, you asshole,” you sob.

“I love you too idiot. So whatcha crying for?” He frowns, wiping a stray tear with his thumb. You lean into his touch, drawing a sharp breath before answering.

“I’m just so damn happy.” And you are. Really. You’ve spent years believing there wasn’t a person alive who could possibly love you in a way that you deserved, and turns out you were right.

You lie there for a while, limbs intertwined, dreaming up a wonderful future together, until you’re propelled to sit up by a terrible thought. “The food!”

“Shh. You can still microwave the shit.”

“But it won’t taste as good! I don’t wanna let your good food go to waste…”

“Hey.” He pulls you back into the bed just as you were going to leave it. “I can bring it to you. Get some rest, pipsqueak.”

Fried rice in bed?! The man wants to spoil you.

And you don’t mind in the least.

[writingonesdreams]

Happy Blorbsday!

Which of your characters do you think has the most unique / different voice compared to the rest of your cast? Perhaps a voice that you've worked on the hardest to get right. Maybe they're the strongest voice of your cast?

And which has a voice that you think you need to work on the most? And why is that?

@bloodlessheirbyjacques

Hmm interesting question. I used to be so worried and careful about voices and getting them right, now I'm figuring them out as I go. Ofc I aim to make them sound true to their personalities and I think it's working well. Quite happy about how Kieran's voice turned out in the last snippet, I think the anger comes off nice and strong. Skye is the most natural voice, Zephyr is the hardest because I have such high expectations for what his voice is supposed to convey. Hal is rather enigmatic, I'm not sure how to express the grief he carries around, but then again I'm also getting some ideas for it. But I think Hal could actually get a more simple vocabulary for not being used to talk much? Been thinking about that lately. Plus I actually got the next part written about the Argument, who to take in and who not, and I imagined it from Skye's pov and from Hal's but wrote it from Zephyr's and it works cause he is the character with the biggest stakes in the matter. I do hate it when a side character who doesn't care half as much as the protags gets the POV for important events (thanks to Spinning Silver for making that clear).

I'm still trying them all out, I'm getting in their shoes, I'm figuring out who is fun through relateableness and who through being totally different. Really looking forward how Cameron will feel as a person.

Turns out that liking to think about someone does not necessarily mean you will like writing them and vice versa.

But who is the strongest? If they all have unique voices enough you could tell it's a different person without the warning, if the metaphors and descriptions and what they notice fit who they are as people...that would be amazing.

Esp looking forward to switching their povs after a crucial situation happens to show their thoughts for the same event. The next parts will have some opportunities for that. :D What different things each of them is worried about, what their priorities, interests and goals tell us about them and their dynamics to each other.

So yeah. I put the same effort in them all, it depends on the character how natural/easy they are, and on my own enjoyment of what voice I like the best to write more of.

Thanks for the question!^^

[cuquitalocita]

kids and car rides- feysand

AN: hi yes hello there- again, it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written anything so here’s something i’ve been pushing myself through for these past couple of days. this is my first time writing feysand so i’m sorry if this sucks- i have to wake up for school in... five hours... so... yeah. if there’s any typos or the plot is kinda... ?? just... cut me some slack :) anyway, hope you enjoy!

part two

~~

Feyre was going to murder her boyfriend.

No- mutilate was more like it. How and where were truly her only thoughts as she glanced around her at the full bleachers of screaming students covered in black and blue face paint. 

Dating Tamlin Hybern had been nice at first- surreal if anything. When the star lacrosse player had taken an interest in the quiet girl at the back of the class who spent her free time in an art studio, Feyre had been flattered. He had asked her out in between classes a few months ago and Feyre had managed to stutter out a blushing, yes, still reeling that the handsome blonde had even noticed her. 

But her relationship was dull and boring, lacking in color, and gods, Feyre needed to end it. 

Tamlin had dragged her to the football game, practically begging on his knees for her to come with him. Feyre had relented, not even having enough time to shower after her art class before Tamlin was picking her up. But the second they had pulled up to the school and gotten out of his truck, Tamlin had disappeared with Lucien and left her in the bleachers with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek and a promise to find her later. 

It left Feyre seeing red. The crowd raged around her as the Bats scored a touchdown, and Feyre glanced at her phone. Shit. It was seven-thirty, meaning Nesta had already left on her date with Tomas, leaving Feyre without a ride home. Elain was out with her friends, actually enjoying her Friday night as a teenage girl should, and Feyre was left alone and ready to leave. 

She had been at the game for thirty minutes, in which the sun had gone down, blanketing the sky in a twilight full of stars. Feyre would stay if only to watch them a little longer- her favorite thing to paint. But as the crowd raged again, Feyre stood up from her spot on the bleachers and began pushing her way through the crowd and back to the parking lot, ready to walk home. It was only a few miles, really, and she had her sneakers on. She could manage. 

“Feyre!” A kind voice broke through her thoughts before she was halfway through the crowd, and she turned to see the familiar face of Morrigan from French class. 

Feyre’s lips turned up into a smile at the sight of the girl and her racing heart calmed a little as Mor came closer, stopping in front of her. 

“Hey, Mor.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you hated football.” Mor’s question was innocent, lacking the judgemental tone that most people would have added on. 

“I do,” she snorted. “But Tamlin wanted me to come, so here I am.” 

Mor’s smile turned down at the mention of her boyfriend. The girl had never tried to hide her dislike for Feyre’s boyfriend, even if the two of them weren’t very close and although she should have been offended, Feyre relished in her honesty. “Either way, I’m ready to go. See you Monday, Mor.”

“Wait, do you need a ride?” Feyre smiled, shaking her head at her easy kindness. She knew she liked Mor. 

“Thanks, but it’s really fine. I only live a few miles down the road- I’ll be fine to walk. Besides, we’re not even halfway through the game. Stay.” Mor bit her lip, clearly deciding whether or not to pick a fight, but Feyre fixed her with a look that eventually had her sighing. 

“Ugh, fine. But text me when you get home. Who knows what kind of creeps are wandering around here.” Feyre nodded, squeezing Mor’s hands in thanks, and left the bleachers, stopping only when she was back in the student parking lot.  

She pulled out her phone, remembering that she came here with her boyfriend. 

>> Hey wasn’t feeling well. Getting a ride home from Nes. 

It was five minutes before he responded. 

<< sure thing- see you later babe

Feyre scoffed, shoving her phone into her back pocket. Unlike Mor, he had not asked her if she was okay and to text him when she was home safe. She had told him that Nesta had a date too- which he obviously hadn’t been paying attention to. 

Ready to start walking, Feyre patted her pockets, looking for her ID, just in case anything happened, only to find them empty. 

“Godsdamn it,” Feyre muttered under her breath, realizing she must have forgotten her wallet back on the bleachers. Turning back to the field, Feyre almost tripped on her own feet when she heard a little voice behind her say,

“That’s a bad word. And my mommy says you shouldn’t say bad words.”

 Spinning back around, she was surprised to see a little girl- no older than six staring up at her and twisting her little fingers together. Her jet black hair was pulled back into two short ponytails and Feyre swore she was one of the cutest things she had ever seen. Bewildered, Feyre stared for a moment before shaking her head. 

“Uh- yes. You’re right- I… I shouldn’t have said that. And neither should you.” The little girl just continued to look at her in silence, causing Feyre to raise her brows. Who was this girl? And why was she by herself? What kind of parent left a little girl alone at a high school at almost eight o’clock?

“What’s your name? Are you lost?” 

“My mommy says I shouldn’t talk to strangers.” At that, Feyre smiled a little bit. She bent down, putting her weight on her knees so she was eye level with the girl, and mustered up her friendliest smile. 

“That’s very smart of her. Well, how about this?” Feyre stuck her hand out to the girl who eyed it warily but didn’t back away. “My name is Feyre. I go to school here. There, now we aren’t strangers anymore.” 

The girl’s eyes widened and it was then that Feyre noticed their unique color, unlike any she had ever seen before. Her eyes were a beautiful violet, and in the reflection of the moon, she swore she could see stars in her eyes. 

The little girl took her hand, practically dwarfed from the size of Feyre’s, and she gave Feyre a small smile that had her melting just a bit. 

“My name is Thebe,” she finally said, her voice small. 

“Well Thebe, are you lost?” She nodded, looking at the ground. Feyre gently took her small hand, forcing the girl to look at her, and smiled again. She could see small tears beginning to form in the little girl’s eyes. 

“Hey, hey, don’t cry. I’ll help you get back. Who are you here with?” 

“My brother,” she responded, and Feyre clenched her teeth. What kind of brother left his little sister alone? With all the fighting she did with Nesta, Feyre knew her sister would never have left her alone in a public place, let alone at night. Once again, Feyre was seeing red. 

“Okay then. Is he at the football game?” Thebe nodded, and Feyre deduced that she must have snuck off into the crowd, bored with the game. She couldn’t say she blamed her.

Taking the girl’s hand in her own and trying not to sigh when little fingers wrapped and her own, Feyre led the little girl back to the raging football game. 

“Do you think you can show me where you were?” Thebe nodded and gripped her fingers tighter, pulling Feyre through the bleachers, using her as a shield from the crazy teenagers. 

Feyre saw Tamlin through the crowd and quickly averted her gaze, focusing back on the girl in front of her until they came to a stop on one of the bottom bleachers. It was surprisingly empty, other than being filled up with athletic bags and water bottles. 

Feyre frowned, following Thebe as she sat down next to one of the bags and pulled out a small jacket that was clearly her own. 

“Thebe, where is your brother?” It was then that the little girl pointed out to the field. “Your brother is playing?” Thebe nodded, leaning her small head on Feyre’s shoulder, her hair tickling her neck, and Feyre admitted that maybe she could stay at the game a little longer, even if she would eventually have to deal with one of the loathsome jocks. But her blood still boiled at the fact that her brother had left her alone. Gods know what could have happened to her if someone else had found her.

“Why did you let me walk you back?” Feyre wondered aloud. Thebe shrugged. 

“You’re pretty. My brother says you can always trust a girl with pretty brown hair.” Feyre blushed, the compliment warming her to her toes. 

“I think you’re pretty too Thebe,” she whispered. 

It was only then that Feyre realized how cold it had gotten. She shivered, running the free hand that wasn’t around Thebe up her arm, which was barely covered with a paint-stained t-shirt. Thebe only reached into the bag in front of her and pulled out a much larger jacket, one with the familiar school colors. She handed it to Feyre, who quickly realized it was a varsity jacket. 

“This is your brother’s jacket Thebe. I can’t-”

“He would share.” Feyre fixed her with a look which Thebe returned with a more convincing one. “Trust me- he would.” Another shiver ran through her and Feyre, sighed, relenting, and shoved her arms into the jacket, immediately warmed. 

They stayed there for a while, watching the game in silence as Thebe began to doze off on her shoulder. Feyre hid her smile as the bleachers creaked, announcing that another person was coming to sit. She looked up to see Cassian Guerra lifting himself onto the bleachers, a carefree grin on his all-too handsome face. The football player’s hair was pulled up in a bun and Feyre vaguely remembered Nesta saying something about him. She doubted it had been positive. 

Feyre remembered Tamlin mentioning how Cassian had gotten injured and was out for the season. It was cool of him to come and support his team. 

His hazel eyes glanced over the little girl next to him and he grinned. 

“Hey, Thee, I thought you were with Az. New babysitter?” Feyre scowled and the little girl seemed to brighten as she looked at Cassian- then at Feyre. 

“New friend,” was all she said, bringing a smile to both her and Cassian’s faces. It was then that he truly looked at her, and a spark of recognition flashed through his eyes. 

“Hey, you’re-”

Cassian broke off as a buzzer sounded through the stadium and the crowd erupted into cheers. He was grinning at her, and Feyre managed back a small smile as Thebe shoved her head into her shoulder. The crowd began emptying out, and Feyre turned to Cassian, meaning to ask what she should do with the little girl. Not that Feyre was too eager to part from her. But he had vanished, finding somewhere else to be, and Feyre huffed, waking the little girl. 

“Alright, I think it’s time we found your brother.” Feyre got up from the bleachers, taking the little girl down to the field where most of the players were still talking to each other and clanking helmets. “Okay, tell me when you see-”

“Rhysie!” 

Feyre’s heart dropped into her stomach as she realized who the little girl was pointing at. Because not ten feet from her, looking impossibly attractive in a way that shouldn’t be possible after sweating for two hours straight, was the bane of her existence. With his jet black hair and twin eyes to Thebe’s, he looked like a god made man. 

“Your brother is Rhysand Knight?” Feyre practically screeched at the little girl holding her hand. 

Thebe nodded excitedly as Rhysand jogged over to his little sister who had quickly abandoned Feyre’s hand and met him halfway. He scooped her up into his arms easily, the grin on his face much too gorgeous for a high school boy, and Feyre grit her teeth. 

Maybe it was just her, Feyre realized, that had to have some sort of connection with the most popular boys in school while managing to remain in the background herself. Rhysand was the captain of the football team and unsurprisingly, loved by most of the people in the school. If he wasn’t so infuriating, Feyre may have even liked him.

But from debating her points in English class to attempting to speak to her afterward, Rhysand Knight was nothing more than a massive pain in Feyre’s ass. A handsome pain, coincidentally, but Feyre refused to acknowledge that at the moment.

“Hey Thee,” he smiled, placing the girl down. “Enjoy the game?” 

It was only then that he noticed Feyre standing behind his sister. It seemed that widening eyes ran in the family, as Rhysand did the same thing his sister had as he gazed at her. 

“H-hey,” he stuttered, the sound strange coming from his usually smooth lips. “Feyre, right?” 

She awaited the inevitable words that always came after the sentence. Tamlin’s girlfriend, right? 

“From English. With Suriel?” Feyre started in place. So he had remembered her. 

But as Thebe ran up to her and tugged at her hand, Feyre ignored the flipping of her heart in her chest at his nervous smile. Instead, she nodded, her movements jerky and final as she arched an angry brow at him. 

“Did you enjoy the game?” he asked, smiling casually again. Feyre huffed. 

“I would have enjoyed it a lot more if I didn’t have to worry about something happening to your sister. I found her wandering around alone in the parking lot,” she snapped. 

Rhysand frowned, glancing at Thebe quickly before looking back at her, pinning Feyre in place with his gaze. 

“What are you talking about? I left her with Cassian and Azriel. They’re like brothers to her and they were watching her the whole time.” Feyre fixed him with a look that said they clearly weren’t and Rhysand’s gaze turned frustrated as he seemed to realize what had happened. 

He sighed, kneeling down until he was eye level with his sister who seemed to be looking everywhere but at him. The sight brought a small smile to Feyre’s face. 

“What did I say about running off Thee? And what did Mom say about talking to strangers?”

“But she said her name is Feyre, like the one you and Cass and Az talk about all the-” Rhysand cut off his sister’s rambling with a playful hand over her mouth and Feyre could have sworn she saw bits of red dotting his cheeks. She pushed away from the thought of how cute she found it. 

“Alright, I think it’s past your bedtime you little menace.” Thebe narrowed her eyes and bit at her brother’s hand, causing him to leap back with a curse, earning an instinctual laugh from Feyre. 

His gaze snapped to hers, softening at her laughing face, and his own turned into a small grin that sent her heart fluttering. 

Shit Fey, you have a boyfriend. 

Her cheeks colored as she noticed Rhysand’s gaze conspicuously running up and down her body and she realized she still had his jacket on. Feyre cursed under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear as she fumbled for the zipper on his jacket. 

“Sorry, I was freezing. Here-” 

“No!” Rhysand cut her off and the blush returned to his cheeks. “I mean- it- you look- uh, you’re just gonna be cold again. Keep it- for now.” Feyre shook her head, unzipping the jacket and handing it to him.

“I should head home anyway. Good game.” She tried for a friendly smile. She had never given him one. Feyre leaned down until she was eye level with Thebe. 

“Thanks for being my game buddy,” she whispered. Thebe beamed, throwing her arms around Feyre’s neck. She hugged the little girl back and tried not to look at Rhysand, whose gaze she could feel on the two of them. 

“Feyre, do you need a ride? I saw Tamlin leave and didn’t know...” His voice rolled over the words like midnight and Feyre shook her head. 

“Thanks but I really don’t live far-”

“It’s going to start raining soon, and I’m not letting you walk home in the dark. Just take the gesture Feyre.” He sounded exasperated, running a hand through his hair. Her eyes narrowed.

“And what, Rhysand, makes you think I want anything from you?”

“Rhys.”

“What?”

“People call me Rhys. Especially people who let me drive them home from football games.” Feyre shook her head in disbelief. 

“Gods, you’re relentless, aren’t you?”

“It’s one of my best qualities darling,” he smirked. 

And there it was, that insufferable charm that had every girl at school drooling over him. Feyre couldn’t say she blamed them, even if it did slightly annoy her. She finally smiled, reaching over to cover Thebe’s ears with her hands. 

“Only second to being a prick?” 

“If I say yes will you let me take you home?” Feyre rolled her eyes and Rhys’ grin widened, both of them knowing she had long since relented. Rhys handed Feyre his jacket and she grumbled, shoving her arms through.  

“Give me a second to find my wallet, then I’ll meet you at your car.” Rhys practically beamed in triumph, scooping his sister back up in his arms and heading back to the parking lot. Feyre loathed admitting that she watched them until they were out of her line of sight. 

She sighed. It was those damn eyes. It had to be.

And it was because of those eyes that ten minutes later, Feyre sat in the passenger seat of Rhysand Knight’s jet black ford fusion. Thebe was in the back, kicking her feet to the beat of whatever song was playing on the radio- one that Feyre couldn’t hear over the pounding of her own heart, and Feyre eyed the little girl through her side mirror so not as to look at the boy beside her. She was keenly aware of the small amount of space between them.

Rhys drove safely, unsurprisingly through their small town, and Feyre gazed out the window until Rhys cleared his throat. She turned to him. 

“So… how are you liking Bronte so far?” Feyre frowned before realizing that he was talking about the book they were reading in English. The book he had argued with her about to no end. 

“I think you know the answer to that Rhys, considering you make it your business to disagree with me.” Surprisingly, the words held no bite to them, and Rhys smiled without taking his eyes away from the road. 

“Well, darling, if you didn’t make it so easy to disagree with you, maybe I wouldn’t have to.” Feyre gaped at him and it was purely instinctual as she reached over the center console and shoved his shoulder as if they were best friends that did it all the time. Gods, what was she doing? She hated him. Maybe.

But if Rhys was surprised by her actions, he didn’t show it as he let out a laugh. Damn, that sound would be staying with her. 

“Look, I’ll give it to Catherine-”

“If this ends with any Heathcliff support I will jump out of this car Rhysand,” she cut him off, tone deadly serious. 

“No!” Thebe called from the back, causing both of the teens to laugh, catching each other's gazes before Feyre quickly looked away. She couldn’t be more grateful for how dark it was in the car so Rhys couldn’t see the blush attacking her cheeks. 

“So, what brought you to the game tonight? Not that you don’t seem like that type of girl but you… don’t seem like that type of girl.” His chuckle sent goosebumps up her arm even though she was still wearing his jacket. Feyre fidgeted her fingers and gazed down at her lap as she shrugged. 

“Uh, Tamlin asked me to come so… here I am.”

“Here you are… in my car.” Feyre sucked in a breath, glaring at Rhys from the side of her eye. The rivalry between the two athletes was no secret, and Feyre had yet to figure out where it had originated.  

“It’s not like that, Rhys. He thought I left. I had… until I ran into a certain black-haired beauty.” Feyre smiled at the side mirror where she could still see Thebe singing along to the radio. Rhys finally smiled too. 

“That’s fair. I know I can be a lot to look at once.” Feyre shoved him again, both of them laughing, and Feyre questioned when her life had turned so off-kilter. 

“Shut up, prick.” She didn’t joke with Rhysand Knight. She didn’t even talk to Rhysand Knight outside of class. So what in the gods was happening?

“Turn here,” she directed, shoving herself out of her thoughts. Rhys obeyed, moments later pulling up in front of her dark house where clearly none of her sisters were home. They sat there in silence for what seemed like eons. Just… sitting there. 

“Well-”

“I-” 

The two laughed as they cut each other off and Feyre shrugged off Rhys’ jacket, shoving it into the open athletic bag next to Thebe, who grabbed her hand before she could pull back. 

“Are you leaving?” she pouted. Feyre gave her a kind, tired smile, and nodded. 

“Sorry Thebe, it’s past my bedtime. But I’m sure I’ll see you around, yeah?” The girl nodded excitedly and Feyre almost startled back when she turned to see Rhys looking at her with a strange expression on his face. 

“What?” Rhys shook his head as if erasing the thoughts.

“Nothing… you just… surprise me.” Feyre snorted, ignoring the blush that had risen to her cheeks. 

“Yes, well, my kid whispering does tend to floor men at times.” But Rhys didn’t smile, or say anything in return, leaving Feyre to raise her brows and clear her throat. “So, I guess it’s my turn to head out.” Feyre placed her hand on the door handle before turning back to the boy next to her. “Thank you. For the ride.” 

Finally, Rhys smiled, his eyes betraying something that looked almost like… anxiety. 

“Hey, Feyre?” The car door had just shut behind her when she heard his voice again.

“Hmm?” 

“Would you want to…” Rhys scratched at the back of his neck and Feyre arched a brow. 

“Would I want to…?”

“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “Go over art notes sometime?” Feyre frowned, fully turning back around and crossing her arms in front of her body to shield herself from the night chill.

“I didn’t know you were in art.”

“Yeah uh- new class.” Feyre nodded, tapping her foot on the ground as she stared him down. Rhys stared right back, clearly unsure of what her answer could be. And she couldn’t help it as a small smile graced her face. 

“I’ll think about it,” was all she said. “Goodnight, Rhysie.” 

Feyre laughed at the sound of Rhys banging his head on the steering wheel and approached her house once more, using her phone flashlight to find the spare key Nesta had hidden somewhere. It was for that reason that she was still outside when Thebe’s little voice spoke to her brother. 

“I like her hair. With the colors. She looks like a princess.” A frown graced Feyre’s lips once more as she subtly inspected a strand of her hair, wondering what the child was talking about. Sure enough, the strands crunched under her fingertips and Feyre had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming in embarrassment.

Of course, Feyre had forgone taking a shower before going to the game. And of course, she had been using her last period of the day as a free period in the art studio. And of course, she had mistakenly dyed her hair with acrylic paint that she had now kept while being in a car relatively alone, with one of the most attractive boys in school. Not that she cared about that, of course. 

Cheeks burning, Feyre finally found the key and rushed into her empty home, wishing for nothing more than a black hole to swallow her whole in her embarrassment. 

But if only Feyre had waited; had paused for more than a moment or tried to hear over the raging sea of emotions inside of her head, she would have heard Rhys’ dazed voice speaking words she wouldn’t even conjure up in a dream. 

“Yeah. Yeah, she does.”

~~

hope you liked it :)

[moonlit-imagines]

Mutant One Seat Over

Peter Maximoff x reader

warnings:

a/n: ahhhh anon you are so super sweet!!! thank you so much! to do this awesome request, reader is gn and has natural spider powers! (as opposed to engineering tech to accommodate powers, but i know you said “like peter parker” so i hope this is okay!) mwah!

prompt: anonymous: “Hi Could you do a Xmen- Peter X Spider!Reader one shot where the reader is a new student in the school for gifted youngsters and they have spider powers (like peter Parker). They don’t really attend classes or have any friends and Charles are trying to get them more comfortable in the school So he literally drags her to class. she has to sit next to Peter maximoff and he is totally mesmerized by her and and they become really close and starts dating.

Ps: hope your having a great day and staying safe. Your such a talented writer and also don’t feel pressed to do this I totally understand if you decide not to, just do what you feel like🥰❤️❤️”

Ever since puberty, you just haven’t been the same. I might have to mention that you’re a mutant, let’s just say that you had a different idea in mind when warned that “your body will go through all sorts of changes.” The surfacing of your mutation was startling, uncomfortable, and confusing.

Some lovely abilities you had acquired were: sticking to almost anything that came into contact with your skin (you’re working on it), being able to spin your own webs (which you were getting pretty good at, fantastic vision, super strength, and much more to be explored.

After a little mishap at school when you got stuck in a bathroom stall for three and a half hours, your parents thought it best to send you to a boarding school that was “much more your speed.”

“No. No, I don’t want to leave!” You pleaded with your parents once they broke the news to you. They were heartbroken that it had to go this far, but this is what needed to be done.

“It’s only until you get control of your powers, y/n. You need to be around other people who share your experiences.” You mom explained, grabbing your gloved hands. At this point, you couldn’t do anything without being covered from near head-to-toe in clothing, it stuck to you and only you.

“Yeah, I heard you the first time.” You snapped, jerking away and stomping up the stairs, but there was a certain sound that stopped you. A car horn. “You didn’t...” You glared at your parents and watched them avert eye contact from you, your heart broke into a million pieces. “A cab? Really? You won’t even take me there yourself?”

“Your suitcase is already packed, y/n.” Your dad’s ashamed tone gave you chills, you never thought you’d have to be sent off like this. You hesitantly stepped back down the steps while your dad walked into the mud room to grab the bag he’d stashed. “We’re sorry, but this is for your own good.” You snatched the bag from him and swung the front door open.

“We love you!” Your mom called as you slammed the front door hard enough to knock down a few dozen pictures and wall decorations throughout the house. “They’re never going to forgive us for this.”

—————

Truth be told, you didn’t enjoy this school at all. Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. The place was teeming with outcasts just like yourself, it made you sick.

At least you were in charge of yourself here. You came and went from your room when you pleased, but you pleased to stay in your room as much as you possibly could. Yes, you had classes, but you just so happen to miss...all of them.

“Well, we don’t know what they’re going through.” A voice mumbled outside of your dorm door. “It took me a while to acclimate to all this change, I imagine they feel the same.” You wouldn’t have let it bother you, but whoever was out there had just disturbed you from a fascinating dream that had taken you far from here. You threw off the covers and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, taking a moment to recover from the headrush.

“I’m so sick of this shit, some peoppe are trying to sleep!” You yanked the door hard enough for it to make a dent in the wall, but that wasn’t nearly as bad as opening the door to Professor Xavier, the headmaster of this boarding school, and another resident from the building, Hank. “Oh. Hi.”

“Mx. l/n, your teachers informed me that you have not been attending your classes, is this true?” The Professor interrogated, but you knew that lying couldn’t save you from a telepath.

“Yep, it’s true. The change of scenery’s just a little overwhelming, you know how it is.” You carelessly shrugged and even tried to close to door on them, but Dr. McCoy caught it and looked to the Professor in shock.

“Yes, well, maybe we could work on that. Why don’t you follow me to your next class? It really would be best for you to keep up with your studies. Maybe you’ll even make some new friends?” Professor Xavier wouldn’t give up on you, which was both comforting and exhausting. With a roll of your eyes, you peeled off one of your gloves and slapped yout hand against the wooden wall.

“Oh, no.” You deadpanned. “I’m stuck.” The two adults exchanged exhausted glances and stared at you in silence, you doing the same. You obviously were a stubborn kid, the Professor had seen this a hundred times before. But it gave him an idea, he knew the perfect candidate for a long lasting friendship, now he just needed you to quit all these games.

“Hank? Would you..?” Xavier politely suggested his friend’s assistance without outright saying it, so you were just a little puzzled when Hank stepped inside your room.

“Brace yourself, y/n.” He pushed his glasses up before planting his feet and grabbing you by each shoulder. Your eyebrows conjoined out of pure confusion, but just like that you were unstuck from the wall. He...okay, he was strong? That would have been good to know. Maybe they should have started with that before yanking you off of a hard surface. There were a few chunks of wood still connected to your hand, you’d have to pick them off later. “I suggest you put the glove back on, y/n. Wouldn’t want to get stuck again now, would you?” Hank gave you a forced smile and waited for you to do the right thing.

“Fine.” You pulled the glove over your hazardous skin and picked up your backpack. “If you insist, I’ll try out a class.” You huffed and dragged your feet across the hardwood floor, bringing joy to the Professor’s face. Maybe he enjoyed the suffering of mutant children.

“Splendid, this way.” He wheeled himself beside you, giving you a pep talk the whole way through the halls. “I do think you’ll like it here, you just have to give it a chance. Everyone here has something in common, that’s what makes it so great. I know it’s not easy having to leave the comfort of a familiar lifestyle, but life has a funny way of coming together, you’ll see.” You observed the decor that you’d ignored time and time again as you kept your head down and shuttled yourself from one place to another.

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed and stood in front of your classroom. It was already embarrassing showing up for class late in normal school, all eyes on you and everything. Was it any different in mutant school? Well, you were on your way to find out. The room went silent as the door crept open, you and the Professor entered with, you figured, all eyes on you.

“Class, some of you may know y/n, some of you may not. Please make them feel welcome here, I trust that you will.” Xavier took a quick look around the room and, just as he suspected, there was a vacant seat next to a mutant he had in mind. “Peter, raise your hand, please. Y/N, take the seat next to Peter. Enjoy the rest of your class, students!” The Professor exited as the rest of the class said their goodbyes in unison, it nearly gave you a headache, but you made it to your seat next to Peter and dropped all of your stuff with a thud.

“Peter Maximoff, nice to meet you. What’s with the gloves?” The silver-haired boy asked with a hand out to shake, with you reluctantly accepted. He didn’t seem so bad.

“I stick to things.” You answered in simplest form. “Aren’t you a little young to have gone gray?” You cocked an eyebrow while admiring Peter’s dime-silver locks that were almost distracting.

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you rush growing up.” Peter chuckled, running his fingers through the knots. “I’m a super-speeder. It just sort of happened. I don’t mind it, though, I think it’s sexy.” He shamelessly admitted, getting a genuine laugh out of you. Maybe he was one of the better people here, who knows?

“Whatever you say, Maximoff.” You leaned back in your seat, facing front to at least appear to be focusing, but you snuck a few glaces at the mutant one seat over. He, on the other hand, made his looks overt. The entire class period, his eyes were on you.

After that class period, you actually ended up enjoying your classes. The Professor checked up on your personal attendance often, chuckling to himself abour how simple his plan was.

“Do you really think it was a good idea to introduce y/n to Peter? Of all the people here?” Hank’s concern showed that he cared. Everyone here wanted the best for you, it was easier to see now more than ever.

“I had to start somewhere.” Xavier justified, which was actually pretty reasonable. There was no right way to deal with all these unique kids who had been through so much already. All he knew for sure was that they needed to feel supported, something he had absolutely no issue with.

Meanwhile, as your final bell rang...

You gasped when a gust of wind blew right past you. It wasn’t the wind that stared you, it was the obnoxious teen mutant that followed.

“Hi,” Peter awkwardly waved, then backed up to stand beside you, placing his hand on your middle back to lead you around the mansion going...well, who knows where you’re going? Not you, that’s for sure, “so hear me out. I think that we are like, the perfect pair. Wouldn’t you agree? Don’t answer that, I already know you’ll say ‘yes.’”

“Is there a point to this, ‘Quickie?’” An evil smile formed from your lips as Peter pushed a bit harder on your back, getting you to speedwalk with him.

“Hey!” I told you that story in confidence!” You stifled laughter and waited for him to continue. “Anyways, I’m gonna get straight to the point before you pull another fast one on me, my point? Well, yeah, my point...” He used his free hand you tap at his chin, then completely halted.

“Did you forget why you came here to talk to me?” You gave a disappointed shake of your head, but still seemed quite amused. The buzzing of kids around you didn’t even faze you, you’d just realized you were too focused on peter to even care.

“Can you maybe go over what I’ve said so far? It’ll jog my memory.” His request made you groan, but you did as he asked nevertheless.

“You said, ‘Hi. Hear me out. We’re the perfect pair. You agree. I told you that in confidence.’” At least your paraphrasing skills were on point.

“Right! Okay, okay. Back on track.” He continued on course, easing up on speed by just a pinch. “So me and you, right? Does that sound crazy? ‘Cause to me, that sounds pretty awesome. I mean, we are the hottest people at this school, we’d be unstoppable.” You’d finally started to piece together his ramblings.

“Are you asking me out or...something?” You tilted your head to analyze his lipless grin and raised eyebrows, was he clamming up?

“...Yyyyyes?” Peter finally admitted, finally showing his teeth through a smile.

“Alright, well...yeah, okay. We’re dating now.” You didn’t accept in the most conventional way, but you did accept, which counted for something.

“Really?!” Peter gasped. “Can I...can I kiss you?” Asking was everything, especially when you risk getting stuck to the other person. I mean, he wouldn’t mind being stuck to you, but he was a little hungry.

“I’m not gonna lie, Pete, we’re gonna need a lot of baby oil. It’s not gonna be pretty.” You made him burst into laughter upon the thought. “It’s not funny!” You playfully slapped his arm. “Where were you leading me, anyways?”

“Oh, nowhere in particular.” He explained through his wheezing. “I just really do not like standing still.”

taglist: @locke-writes // @randomawesomeperson102 // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove //

[iamdorka]

„Could I please request a 'Dating ______ would include:' bullet point headcanon for Colson, Dom and Pete respectively? I love your writing; thank you 🖤”

So here I thought about 5 random scenarios (while dating of course) and how each of them would react/behave in that case, so basically I put my own spin on this request. Hope you will like it. But I have to add that your request made me think about this type of writing, so maybe in the future I will bring you some extra writing too.

- taking couple selfies

Colson: Colson would be the type who says that he hates taking photos, but actually he loves it, especially the couple selfies, because he adores you and when you are taking a selfie of both of you and the picture turns out great, your smile is the cutest thing on Earth, he says. Of course usually it doesn’t turn out great for the first couple of times and after the 500th attempt he gets bored and starts to make fun of you, but you are always quite determined so you keep going and when there is a great photo he actually gets more in love with you, every fucking time.

Dom: Dom would love taking pictures with you. Yeah, you are an addict but he is your partner in crime in that too. Like his mind is just as crazy as yours and if something involves the two of you, that’s 100% sure that there will be photo evidence of that, probably posing like the most idiot, badass couple in the town. Your camera roll may have a few(!!!) selfies of yourself, but maybe there are even more couple selfies.

Pete: Okay… but Pete would be the absolute worst in this scenario. Like when you would take out your phone, he would be actually scared because he hates seeing himself on photos and first you didn’t really understand this and for you it was hard to accept it, as you are a photo addict, but after some time you got it. So when he was willing to join in your craziness, it was something special, you knew that and you really appreciated that. One of the cutest thing was when he returned to Instagram, after a quite long period, the first pic he posted was one of your couple selfies.

- taking care of him when he is sick

Colson: He is the worst sick person ever, like you know that if boys are sick they tend to overdramatize it but oh boy… what he usually does in the case is next level. Your friends get to used to the hangover Colson (which is also some extreme shit) but the sick Colson is even worst. Yeah… that could happen. You thank God that his immune system is quite strong, even after all those shit that he has consumed, but when he somehow gets sick you try your best the cure him because you have your limits too and sick Colson can get you closer to them very easily.

Dom: Doesn’t matter how old he is, he usually acts like a child, like in the sweetest way, especially when he is around you. So it isn’t a surprise after all that when he is sick… he turns into a child even more. He doesn’t really understand that you have to keep your distance even if you are the one taking care of him, because his neediness becomes quite strong and he is able to throw tantrums if he doesn’t get you near him. About getting the medicines in him… you wouldn’t even want to start talking, because that’s always an interesting challenge.

Pete: Pete is a quite sick, like is he has some aching parts he doesn’t even tell you about it, you usually figure it out on your own because you see something slightly has changed in his usual behavior. Of course you immediately begin to act like his nurse because you don’t like knowing that he is suffering and he does exactly everything what you ask him to do. He is the best patient ever, if you can say so, also he likes this special attention but he would never admit this to you.

- celebrating your birthday with him for the first time

Colson: Getting together with him was a quite a wild ride, and being with him pushed you out of your comfort zone in so many scenarios, so when your birthday finally arrived you weren’t even surprised that the little party which he threw you turned into the biggest house party he threw in a while and this is a big thing, because when they throw a party it’s big… but this was 10 times bigger. And everybody got the chance to get to know you, like he is the king of the gang… and that day you became his forever queen. Everybody knew, even before, that they can’s mess with you, but after this it was obvious that you are his ride and die. His girl.

Dom: The thing is he was probably even more excited about your birthday than you were, which is a pretty big thing because damn you love your birthday, it’s your own national holiday and it was quite weird for you to share this excitement with somebody else but the enthusiasm of his was so adorable. He planned a whole music festival themed birthday party for you in his garden because he knew how much you live for those events. He even spoke to some of your favorite artists and with them he made a special birthday video just for you which when appeared on the big screen made you cry like never before. He just couldn’t understand how lucky a girl you are with him by your side.

Pete: Pete likes to stay in, smoke and just eating junk food and usually you are his partner in that, but for your birthday you just wanted to do something that you don’t usually do and that’s when Pete told you that he has everything in control, you just have to follow his instructions. That’s how he took you out for a fancy sushi restaurant which was actually the best thing because damn you ate everything up there and he was so happy that he could make you this happy. And the fact that he decided to took you out, and he enjoyed it too, he who prefers to stay in 24/7 was your biggest birthday present ever, like you knew this, between you two was something really special.

- getting up to catch an early flight to the other side of the country

Colson: Even after being with him for months you still couldn’t understand how he can function with that little sleep hours he got, so when he knew that he has to be up really early he decided not even go to bed, which for him was normal, but you just didn’t want to do as him and tried to convince him to go to bed with you, sleep a bit because sleeping on a plane is never the best option but he was quite stubborn…. but you had your ways and after some time you won. That’s why after like 3 hours sleeping waking up was the cruelest thing to do but you suffered together… as always. Of course you would never admitted that those 3 hour sleep just worsened the situation and without it everything would have been better but that’s just your stubbornness which he loved.

Dom: If he sleeps 6 hours, he has way more energy than necessary, if he sleeps 8 hours or more… he has even more energy, this guy is like he is always on some kind of drug without taking it actually, so when you had to be up at 4am he somehow woke up before you and when your alarm went off you woke up for a big cup of coffee and a cute breakfast. You couldn’t even open your eyes properly but he was almost out of your apartment already.

Pete: Coming off from some mushrooms when you had to leave for the airport wasn’t your best timing ever to be honest. But at least you didn’t suffer as much as you would have otherwise. Pete has some unique ideas to soften the situations and getting high almost everytime was involved in those solutions but this time you couldn’t really decide if you regretted it or not. When time is literally an illusion for you getting somewhere in time was a quite big challenge so when you woke up on the plane, on the right plane, on your chest of your boyfriend you were quite proud of yourself.

- him cheering you up when you had a fucked up day

Colson: He knew that when you are pissed off, tired there are two options: he needs to keep his distance and give you some time to cool off first alone or be by your side and doesn’t leave your side, not for a minute. These options usually ended up in some angry making out sessions, with heavy touching, not saying a word but there were times when he just mixed everything together… he knew you well. He knew exactly when he shouldn’t even open his mouth because he just could worsen the situation… that’s when usually he turned to music. Without even saying a word, just mumbleing to his live piano playing, letting to fill the house with his ryhtm you tried to reach you… and it worked even when it didn’t.

Dom: When you needed a good laugh… you could count on your boyfriend because sure he is some funny guy, so when you hava a long day and all you wanna do is just… not to exist you are really grateful that you go home to a place where he is there. Some light hearted comedy or stand up, letting him order some food and watching him impersonating the comedians was the highlight of those days. He knows that he is funny and to be able to make your messed up day just a little bit better he would be willing to do anything, literally and figuratevly…. because when his other half is in pain, he is in too.

Pete: Staying at home, like an old couple was your go to date option, like always. But when you arrive home saying that you will never ever not even consider leaving the house because you hate everything and everybody and you stay with that idea for quite sometime he starts to worry. And when you just can’t do anything right because you break everything, everything slips out of your hand he just carefully goes to you, hugs you and takes control over everything, even your body. He leads you to the nearest bar chair in the kitchen, sits you down and makes you a sandwich and cup of your favorite tea… and doesn’t say a word, he waits until you want to talk about it. These little things are the ones what make you love him more and more everyday. Nothing big, nothing special, just simple things.

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