#like they literally ganged up on him in the game to keep him out of the gyms and raids

[ittybittyfanblog]

Only You, Darling (Only You, Babe)

Summary: There were orders for your abduction. You were made to be the bait by a rival gang to get to the elusive head of Onychinus. Sylus doesn’t take it too well. Word Count: 4.8k Tags: mc x sylus, fem!reader x sylus (use of she/her pronouns), depictions of violence (it gets a little graphic), reader gets abducted and injured, strong language, protective!sylus, he’s a little unhinged here, self-indulgent! A/N: I can’t believe this game pulled me out of a three-year creative rut LMAO. I’ve been doing fanarts, now I’m writing again?? The power these pixelated men hold over me, man.  Anyway, enjoy!  This version of Sylus is probably a little OOC idk idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It was close to midnight, and you're being followed.

On your six, a stocky man in an unassuming dark suit has been tailing you since you left the dingy bodega a little over a mile away from your apartment for about, three? five minutes– no, maybe even longer.

Shit, you mouth silently. Sloppy. You should’ve noticed him sooner, and the two other lackeys now closing in from up ahead. They’re armed too, if the hands hidden inside their jackets were any indication.

As if things aren't looking bad enough, you’ve decided tonight would be the perfect night to go weaponless, deciding against bringing your handgun with you since it was supposed to just be a quick run to the store for supplies. Namely, the late-night cravings sort of supply.

You clutch the wrinkled paper bag containing your coveted jalapeño Cheetos tightly.

This is what greed does to you, a mocking voice echoes in your head. Since when did your inner voice of reason sound masculine and oh-so-familiar? 

Exhaling quietly, you try to calm the rising beat of your heart and appear to be clueless of your surroundings. Walk at a normal pace. Look unaware of the men with the intention to… What even was this? An ambush? Good, old, regular robbery? No, it doesn’t seem like they were in it for something that insignificant. They wouldn’t even bother to be this cautious if it were. 

But then, what were they here for? The dangers you were more familiar with are of the monstrous kind in the literal sense of the word; entities that you face on a daily basis as a Deepspace hunter. Not the regular threats posed by mankind – which in this particular situation, suddenly feels more foreboding.

While racking your brain for ideas on how to slip away from their sight without escalating the situation, you fail to notice a fourth person hidden behind the dumpster inside the narrow alleyway on your left until you feel the cold, hard edge of a pistol gun hit your temple.  

With a shout, your hand shoots up in an attempt to yank the gun away from the hand holding it but the sudden burst of pain from the impact has left you feeling dizzy and off-kilter. The moment you throw your fists up to block your face, heavy fists strike you directly in a flurry of hits, colliding with your forearm and your unguarded ribs.

You let out a pained grunt as you stagger backwards, trying your hardest to keep yourself from falling back on your ass and ward off the next incoming attack. 

A sinister laugh alerts you of the others, now surrounding you in a circle. Shit!

You hastily shift your legs into a crouching position, bracing yourself as you attempt to sidestep the one in front of you before making a run for it. You spring into action, but before you can even take another step, an arm shoots out and coils tightly around your neck like a noose. A cloth that reeks of something distinct is slapped over your mouth and nose, rendering you unable to do anything but struggle. 

“Now, now– the boss wants her in one piece, John,” The stocky man, who’s apparently larger and more jacked up-close, pipes up. John tightens the limb circling your throat, preventing you from breathing, before slightly loosening his grip. 

 “I’d advise you from struggling too much, sweetheart. But if you insist on making this harder for yourself,” the man talking suddenly grins, revealing rows of crooked, silver teeth. “He ain’t said nothin’ about a couple of bruises.” 

You give him your dirtiest glare, trying to pull away from the death grip the burly man called John had on you, but you feel your muscles slowly becoming heavier and your vision starting to blur. 

Ch-chloroform?

You make a muffled shout, a scurry that earns you a heavy hit on the stomach, one last futile move to free yourself, but the inevitable effect of the potent substance starts to overpower you. 

“After all, we need to make sure that the big bad boss of Onychinus actually comes for his bitch, don’t we?”

Rendered completely useless, the men start to make quick work to restrain your arms and legs in a hogtie before carrying you down the street, to a shaded corner where a large, gray van is parked.

The barn doors open, and you’re tossed in carelessly to the back, landing painfully on the cold, hard floor. An involuntary whimper escapes your lips, feeling like one big bruise; splotches of red and blue start to form like a violent watercolor on your skin. 

The engine revs. Before completely losing consciousness, you think you hear a faint caw.

The car drives off the beaten path, into the night, leaving not a trace of evidence of what transpired mere minutes ago aside from a discarded brown paper bag and a deflated bag of chips. 

-

-

-

From a distance, flying towards the hazy skyline, a mechanical bird crows a bad omen. 

_____

In the dead of the night, the head of Onychinus sits as a spectator; a towering presence at the head of a table inside a private room, obscured in plain sight, in an unremarkable establishment far east of Linkon City. 

Unassuming as it may be, the room’s occupants are men of great renown, both in influence and notoriety. The CEO of a chain business in Azure Square, a regional manager of a well-known bank in Linkon, the head of a weapons trade representing a faction in the N109 zone… All held significant power, all held ulterior motives.

A meeting of minds; the type held only in the secrecy of the night, gone in the break of dawn. 

Sylus has half the mind to listen in on the droning exchange of fake pleasantries and plastic smiles as the men deal trades in nature that of weapons and favors. A number of hungry, beady eyes cast him furtive glances, fearful yet devout. Some cautious in the hope of earning his approval. 

“–the package will be en route to the agreed-upon address by the end of the week,” a stout man in spectacles finishes off, clearing his throat. Beads of sweat start to form at the back of his neck as red eyes bore into his, assessing. Deliberating. “O-or if Richard’s able to give me the go-ahead in advance, I’ll make sure it arrives by Friday,” a gulp–then, “sir.” 

All in reverence. 

He hums, his switchblade dancing idly in his hand, deliberately stretching the tension that hangs heavy in the air. He delights in this power to unsettle, savoring the authority that his mere presence commands—a demand for absolute deference. 

“Make it half that time, will you, Raymond?” Sylus responds amicably, not as a question. The man, Raymond, sputters. 

“That won’t be pos–” Sylus tilts his head, eyes shifting into something more dangerous. “Please, I’ll try to cut the time shorter but there won’t be any assurances.” 

The pale-haired man sighs in acquiescence. “I guess that will have to do.” Raymond lets out an exhale of relief, but catches his breath as Sylus continues, “Any later than Wednesday, and I’ll come to claim it personally.” 

Raymond, more nerves than man, starts to blabber something in response–but stops when something black suddenly appears in a blaze of dark energy, near the shoulder of the intimidating man he’s trying to appeal to. 

Sylus raises a hand, and a large crow lands on his pointer finger. 

He caws, once. Twice. And shows a projection. 

The inhospitably cold room suddenly went glacial. 

All conversation halts to a stop as an overwhelmingly suffocating aura starts to emanate from the man–no, the being at the head of the table, making all that are in the vicinity freeze in fear. 

The devil posing as the leader of Onychinus abruptly stands up, and Raymond thinks, Oh I’m going to die here.

Without a word, the man disappears in a Stygian haze.

_

Five minutes later, only after they felt like death was no longer looming over their heads, did anyone dare to move a muscle.

_____

Your head hurts, and your mouth tastes of rust. 

Having been awake for longer than your captors were aware of – two (?) of which bickering near a barred slate of metal that you assume is the door after taking a quick peek from beneath the mess of hair concealing your face – you try to get your bearings together without arousing the suspicion of your present audience. 

“–bet it’s gonna take a while ‘fore that guy arrives. You think she’s enough to get him to show his face?” 

“Damned if I know. In any case, we got a pretty, li’l plaything on our hands,” a snort. “Make her worth the effort.” 

Where were you? From what it looks like, you’ve been transported into a nondescript underground bunker of sorts, dank with a hint of mildew and rot in the air; a rumbling air vent on your left masking any noise that escaped your mouth when you woke up. The area is poorly lit, save for the flickering bulb hanging precariously above your head as your main source of light – good for casting shadows to hide your bruised face, bad for the pounding headache you’re pretty sure is a concussion. And with your back seemingly close to a wall, you arrive at the conclusion that there are no other entryways, no way to leave, but the guarded door in front of you. 

In short, you have no idea where you are. 

Fuck–this is bad, you swear to yourself internally, trying to control the rising panic swelling up your chest. You never thought your nightcap would lead to this mess. Nobody knows about your current predicament, and it’ll take more than a day before your absence raises any alarms, so right now, you’re on your own. 

Think, think! What can you do?

What can you do? You have nothing on you, nothing you can use as a makeshift weapon to defend yourself with, and your hands are tightly bound behind your back by a thick, heavily twined rope with no give. The situation is slowly turning bleaker by the second, and it isn’t even your fault that you’re here in the first place! You were made a pawn, a mere bait in this messed-up dick-measuring contest between a crazy, sadistic, self-proclaimed head honcho and Onychinus’s own crazy, sadistic–

Wait a minute. Sylus. 

You send a strong prayer to anyone above that’s listening, and an angry telepathic shout for good measure to the one who’s unaware of his involvement – but nonetheless the source of your ruined night – in this attempt at kidnapping a perfectly law-abiding citizen of Linkon.

Sylus, as much as I hate your unfortunate tendency to stalk me through means that, honestly? Eludes the hell out of me, I really, REALLY hope that you’ve been keeping tabs toni–

“Hey, boss! I think this one’s awake!”

Fuck. No use pretending anymore. 

You hear heavy footsteps from outside the room before the corroded metal door swings open to reveal a large man, easily standing above six feet, sporting a neatly trimmed beard and an unsettling smile. His arms are covered in tattoos– overlapping, almost undecipherable. A gnarly scar runs from the side of his mouth to just above his brow bone; his right eye a cloudy gray, most likely a morbid souvenir from the sustained injury.

His functional eye zeroes in on your pitiful form, and his smile widens into a hostile grin. 

“Well, well. It seems like our esteemed guest is finally ready to join in the fun,” His voice sounds like gravel, with a mocking intonation. “I hope my men weren't too rough with you on the way here.” 

You let out a breath through your teeth, blinking a few times to try and rid the blurring in your vision. You have to bide your time– “Why am I here? What do you want from me?” 

The man cocks his head to the side, smile still in place. “I assume you already know. But I’ll indulge you your little questions, why not?”

He crosses the space separating the two of you with just a few, languid steps before he’s in front of you. He leans forward, brushing the messy locks of hair – dried with blood – away from your face in a deceptively calm manner. “The devil needs to pay his dues, but it’s been rather difficult to get a hold of him, you see,” he sighs in exaggerated disappointment. ”I intend to collect, so I waited patiently for the right moment, for an opening. For an opportunity. 

And here, the opportunity presents herself.” 

You sneer, moving your head back to let your hair fall from his creepy hold. “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about, mister, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got the wrong idea.”

He barks out a laugh before gripping your chin tightly between his fingers. “You’ve got a smart mouth on you. Maybe we can find a better use for it.” 

You feel it before you hear it. 

“Perhaps not.” 

Something vicious saturates the air, something intense and terrifying and wrong. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and some sort of primordial response deep within your brain is telling you to get away from it.

But then, the paralyzing fear melts away to something akin to hope when you realize the source of this new disturbance.

Relief washes over you when familiar ink-and-red tendrils materialize behind the man in front of you. The dark wisps dissipate like smoke as soon as it comes and in place, your savior – sporting an expression that could only be described as downright murderous – stands before you, all six feet of unadulterated rage.

Several things happened so fast, it was almost simultaneous.

A cacophony of shouts came loudest from the two men who had been on guard duty but screams also echoed from outside the room. You saw flashes of red, twin laughter, and blood spurting from the necks of the now headless guards, and then a symphony of bullets and a lot of things breaking rang across the room. 

Suddenly– 

Deafening silence. As if something has put an abrupt stop to the noise. 

Amidst all the chaos, the scarred man in front of you had no time to make a move before savage whips of crackling energy engulfed him, leaving only his head free from the smothering darkness. 

His expression betrays something wild and manic as he tries twisting around to look at the figure behind him. “You–”

Sylus pays no mind to the breathing, dead fool – lower than dirt on his feet, with the nerve to harm what is most precious to him – as he keeps his gaze solely on you; his eyes darting up and down as if taking inventory of all the bruises and scrapes you sustained from the abduction. 

You meet his eyes. “You came.” 

An indecipherable look passes his face, gone as quickly as it came. “A little too late. I apologize.” 

You weakly huff out a chuckle, wanting to shake your head but decide against it lest it aggravates your concussion. A prickling sensation, then the rope around your wrists falls off with a quiet thud. 

“Luke. Kieran.” 

“Everything’s all accounted for, boss,” Kieran announces, suddenly appearing beside your right, along with Luke who’s on your left. Both look no worse for wear.

 The latter gives you a sympathetic look. “Oh, man. They got you good, little crow.” 

“Caught me off-guard, s’all,” you insist half-heartedly. 

A sigh. “Transport her directly back to base. Attend to her critical injuries once you arrive, and keep her awake. I’ll handle the rest once I get back,” Sylus instructs the twins in a tone that brooks no argument.

They nod in sync and start making a move to carry you out, but you protest.

“Wait, you’re staying behind?” For some reason, the thought of being separated from him, even for a short amount of time, makes you feel ill. Well, worse than your current state at least. 

Sanguine eyes soften when he hears the tremble in your voice. The offending man in front of you, reduced into something less threatening than a cowering dog in comparison to your rescuer, is forcibly pushed aside to make room for Sylus as he steps closer. 

He crouches low so that you’re looking down on him instead of up. One large hand covers both of yours, mindfully avoiding the fresh rope burns on your wrists, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the unmarred part of your skin. 

“This will be quick, sweetie. I’ll be back by your side before you know it,” he exhales, closing his eyes for a moment. “I swear to you.”

You swallow, but nodded reluctantly. “Come home soon.” 

“I will.”

With that, you let yourself be carried out of the claustrophobic space you were confined to, into a larger room littered with unmoving bodies that you're frankly too tired to care about at the moment, up three (rickety) flights of stairs where you exit into what looks like the inside of an empty shipping container, before finally, finally getting out. 

A gust of salty wind hits you and you ask, “Are we near the docks?” 

“Yeah,” Kieran answers, carefully putting you down on the backseat of Sylus’ car. “Mephisto trailed after the van they stuffed you in before reporting back to the boss. We followed soon after.” 

Luke frowns as he inserts the key in the ignition. “We weren’t aware that they had eyes on you for a while now. An oversight on our part, won’t happen again,” he assures you. “Gotta give them props for that, at least.” 

Kieran, now getting in the passenger side of the vehicle, shoots him a look. 

“Anyway, we’re glad we got to you before they did anything… worse,” Kieran continues, then winces in a show of mock sympathy. “Can’t say the same to that fucker back inside. Haven’t felt Sylus’ bloodlust this strong in a long while.” 

You try to focus on their words, but you feel yourself nodding off as the remaining adrenaline slowly leaves your body. You know you should feel more worried about what the two were insinuating, but your mouth still tastes like you swallowed a bunch of coins and you just want a soft bed to sleep in for an entire day. Or three. 

“Oi, no sleeping. Doctor’s orders,” A snapping finger in front of your face forces you awake. 

You blink your tired eyes open in an attempt to stay lucid, the pulsing pain in your head becoming more prominent as soon as the threat of danger has passed. 

“This is gonna be a long night,” you sigh, wishing that Sylus will keep his word and be quick about… whatever he’s planning to do with your abductor. 

–––––

There hasn’t been much left of the man who proclaims to be the new head of an arms syndicate Sylus had dealt with in the past. He recalls the history of his relationship with the cartel being less than cordial, but nothing that would warrant his ire. Except for tonight.

He usually doesn’t leave a trace when doling out punishments; no, not anymore. Not in recent years. He prefers to be efficient about his killings, dissipating any evidence in thin air after reducing them into fine paste, rather than make a big show out of it. Quick and precise.

Except today… Someone had the arrogance, the absolute audacity to steal directly from the dragon’s nest.

The contents of which have always been kept in strict confidentiality. What is known, only chosen individuals bound to secrecy are privy to, and a lot of people would kill for. 

But unbeknownst to anyone else but its owner, only one thing in this hoard of secrets truly matters to the dragon. One solitary treasure alone he would burn planets for – and someone has tried to steal it.

Harm. the treasure. To get to him. 

It seems as if the new bloods needed a reminder of who, exactly, they’re stealing from. 

One who dwells deep within the underbelly of the cities both monster and men inhabit, that even the most heinous of sinners seeking solace in the dark, are afraid of. 

And what retribution tastes like to those who are foolish enough to bite more than what they can chew.

The poor soul unfortunate enough to be the first one to discover the carnage will witness that what was left of the man that had wronged the Onychinus kingpin is stuck on the walls, the floor, and the ceiling of a basement where the treasure was held captive. They will find that the man’s innards are deliberately hung in a haphazard fashion, in all corners of the room like bloody, sinewy tinsel. 

And the centerpiece of this bloodbath is none other than the man’s decapitated head, forcibly attached to the hanging light in the middle of the room. A bulb crudely drilled past his cranium, while blood dripped down the floor in slow, ominous rivulets. 

They will understand in dawning horror that the one responsible for this... gross butchery, has left the head swinging. That the man’s mouth will forever remain agape in an eternal scream to immortalize the exact moment he realizes the gravity of his sin.   

Yes, Sylus is more than glad to remind them. 

_____

You arrive a quarter past four AM. 

Barely taking a step past the foyer, the twins immediately whisk you inside to perform an ‘emergency patch-up.’ Luke’s words, not yours.

“We’re your personal CNA while waiting for the head nurse to take over,” he explains cheerfully, wrapping another layer of gauze around your wrist. You hiss when Kieran dabs a cotton ball on the gash on your temple, peroxide fizzing as it comes in contact with the dried-up blood. Muttering out a “sorry!” Kieran does quick work in cleaning the injury and covering the affected area.

In no time at all, all visible wounds are bandaged and disinfected. The worst of your head wound had to be stitched up, but other than that, nothing seems to require immediate medical attention. There’s nothing left for you to do but to bear the aches that came along with the bruises – especially on your tender midriff – and to pop a tylenol for your throbbing headache.

You offer them a sincere, “Thanks. No, really.” before they leave you in Sylus’ room, after multiple reminders to “not sleep before the attending nurse arrives for the final diagnosis.” 

(You think they might have enjoyed playing caretaker a little too much.) 

With a lot more effort than you care to admit, you painstakingly remove your bloodstained clothes until you're down to your underwear, before draping yourself in a large, red, silk robe. A hot shower sounds heavenly to your sore muscles, but the soft mattress is calling to you more so you head straight to bed. 

With nothing else to occupy yourself with, you prop your head on a mountain of pillows – to keep yourself relatively upright – and let out a sigh. 

Tonight had been a shitshow. All you wanted was something to snack on while you binge through the last season of the show you were watching back at your apartment; you never thought a late-night run to the store just a few blocks away would result in… this. If not for Sylus’ intervention, you’re sure you'd be leaving with a lot more than a couple of scrapes. If not worse.

You're lost in your own thoughts when short, successive raps on the door catch your attention. It swings open before you have the chance to pipe out a, “come in!”

Speak of the devil.

Sylus enters the room, not a hair out of place. You notice that he’s changed into a casual, brown sweater and a pair of dark-washed jeans. His eyes meet yours, tightly-controlled expression relaxing as he crosses the room towards the side of your bed, wasting no time. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Still pretty sore, but Luke and Kieran already handled the worst of my injuries,” you answer, making a move to sit up. Sylus tuts disapprovingly, gentle as he puts a hand on your chest to prevent you from moving any further. He sits gingerly on the edge of the mattress, careful not to jostle you. Once fully settled, he let out a deep sigh.

“You had me worried for a moment there, kitten.” He admits, a slightly rough edge to his voice as emotion seeps into it. He regards you intently, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re here, safe. 

Your hand reaches out towards his face. Without missing a beat, he leans in to nuzzle your palm, eyes closing shut. He reminds you of a big wolf, unbridled fire simmering beneath the surface, yet tame in the presence of his handler. 

“I’m fine now, thanks to you,” you assure him with a lopsided smile. “Give my thanks to Mephisto, as well. Tell him he gets a pass on the stalking this time.” 

Sylus opens his eyes, a hint of amusement and something else you can’t identify flickering through. “Oh, sweetie. You’ll be lucky if that bird gives you the privacy to bathe alone after tonight,” he jokes. 

He’s joking. Right?

You eye him for a moment before deciding to let it go. You're too tired to argue.

Instead, you cautiously ask a question you aren’t sure you even want the answer to. “What happened after we left?” 

Sylus expression doesn’t change except for the upward tick on the corner of his mouth; the same peculiar glint in his eyes coming across a little stronger. “They won’t be bothering you anymore. You don’t need to worry about anyone coming for you.”

“That’s not what I asked.” 

He hums. “Do you really want to know?”

You stare at him, and he stares back at you placidly. 

You purse your lips and look away. “Maybe not.” 

Sylus breathes out a laugh. He gently grasps your chin between his forefinger and thumb, guiding your head to meet his gaze once more. A softer look on his face, inching closer to yours.

Your heartbeat slightly picks up. In your vulnerable state, you feel a welling desire to bare your feelings to the man in front of you. You want to tell him how relieved you felt when you saw him in that cursed basement, how he was able to quell your fears with just his presence alone the moment he appeared in a familiar haze of black and red. Like your own, personal, vindictive guardian. 

Instead, you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his. 

Sylus groans quietly, a hand cupping your face as he leans closer to deepen the kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, savoring the feeling of contentment from being this close to him. You feel, more than you see, how his taut body loses the remaining tension from the events that transpired just mere hours ago, how he finally relaxes as he loses himself in you.

Very carefully, he eases you further down, cradling your head with one hand until it rests on a pillow. His lips drift to the corner of your mouth, trailing soft kisses up to the apples of your cheeks, your forehead, then to your nose. 

He pulls back slightly, chuckling when you make a sound of discontent. When you open your eyes, you see him looking at you– half-lidded and tender. 

In a low voice, he instructs, “Rest. You need it.”

The feeling of exhaustion pulls you in, but before you surrender to it, you remind Sylus, “I’m not that fragile, you know. You don’t have to worry too much.” You poke his cheek and he catches the offending digit to bite it affectionately. “I’ll be up and running in no time.”

He doesn't speak for a minute, considering your words. His mouth sets into a thin line before letting out a sigh.

“And if you get hurt again? What then?" He whispers so quietly, seeming as if he's talking to himself.

"I'll get hurt again, that's for sure," You tell him, matter-of-factly. "But really, that’s just an occupational hazard. I’m sure you realize."

“Love — what a terrible, little thing,” he muses, half-forlornly, half in jest. "I’d rip this cold heart out and throw it in flames if I could.”

While speaking, his hand finds its way into the tangles of your hair, gently running his fingers through the strands in a lulling manner. His lips landing on the crown of your head softly. Reverently.

You hum sleepily.

“Of course you would, Sy.”

_____

“You’ll be glad to know that the artifact you had your eye on back at the auction will be arriving this Wednesday.” 

“Huh? But I thought it was already sold to someone else?”

Sylus shrugs. “I made a counteroffer.” 

“You didn’t have to. I told you it was fine.” 

“I know. But I also recall a certain someone telling me how much they wished they had placed a bid on it on our way back,” he pinches your cheek fondly. “Don’t worry about it, kitten. It’s yours.”

“Oh. Well– thank you,” you yawn in response, leaning your head to rest against his palm.

His thumb strokes your cheek. “Anything for you.”

[lowkeyrobin]

hi pookie can I get an mcyt with reader that bakes?? Like they'll just come in on stream and give mcyts a fucking platter of baked goods lol

-🎀 anon

oooo yes omg!! thank you 🎀 anon! <3 got the whole gang in here for this one LOL

MCYT ; "in my baker era"

includes ; tommyinnit, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, foolish gamers, slimecicle, & cellbit

warnings ; language, mentions of drugs

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

"Hi y/n- oh, thank you, darling!'

literally has the widest smile on his face

shows off the goods to the stream

"do these have any drugs in them? me n charlie are trying to sell drugs, y/n. we need more stock"

you hear charlie screaming through tommys headphones, "we need the grain, y/n! we need THE GRAIN"

bro is munching away on those cookies holy shit

he feeds chat as well dw

RANBOO

"Hey babe! Oh, thank you!"

does a whole 360 of the plate for chat 💀💀💀💀

"Oh my God, these are so fucking good"

"guys, y/ns in their baking era. can you write an album about that? please become Taylor swift for us"

"BAHHAHAHAH"

literally takes a picture as per usual and posts it to Twitter LMAO

he gets some fans to send you recipes you should try for a serious baking stream LMAO

BADLINU

"Hey love- oh, hi!"

all smiles and shit, he swears you have a sixth sense to know when people are hungry

"guys, y/n made me some bisexuality cake!" He giggles, showing off the tri-colored cake on the plate

he was making a video with harry, tubbo & tommy so everyone had their facecams on

it was like a three tier cake you made and cut out a slice for him

the inside was just the bi flag and the outside was plain white with some fun icing piper testing

he tries it and it's SO MOIST AND SOFT IT IS PERFECT.

there's just 5 raw minutes of him telling you how amazing this fucking cake is LMAO

QUACKITY

"Hey, I'm streaming ba- ohmyfuckinggodthankyou!!"

does a 360 of the plate for the camera

"Holy shit these look so fucking good, thank you so much, y/n"

he's literally just streaming on the qsmp with roeir and fit and he like games and eats the damn cookies at the same time LMFAO

"Dude I feel like I'm high, these are so good, what's in this shit?"

"cocaine"

"WHAT!? DID YOU JUST DRUG ME? GUYS, MY PARTNER DRUGGED ME, HELP"

you're just playing into the bit dw

best red velvet cookies he's ever eaten

CELLBIT

"Hey darling, what's up?"

you hand him the little strawberry shortcake and he just looks at you like 😍😍

turns to his stream and shoves the plate up to the camera all happy like "Oh my God look what they made for me!"

he eats the entirety of it on stream and asks you a bunch of questions

like how you made it, where you found the recipe, etc

he shares it with you too 💔🫶

NIHACHU

"Hi honey! Ooo, what's this called?"

"Chocolate mousse. it's a little thick because it's my first time making it but let me know if it's good"

she holds that little glass like it's her child

she tries it with a tiny spoon you gave her and she's like "oh my God this is amazing, y/n/n"

shows it off to the friends she's streaming with too

"send them more recipes guys, I wanna be spoiled with sweets!"

"thank you nikis viewers!! love you all"

FOOLISH GAMERS

when I tell you this man's face LIGHTS UP.

"you made me fudge? oh my God! I love you"

literally spends the next 15 minutes talking to you and gobbling the fudge down

"since when do you make fudge??"

"since I wanted to try" you shrug

"you should totally make some more... when you're not busy and if you want to!"

"Thank you y/n! everyone say thank you!"

SLIMECICLE

"Oh, hi y/n! thank you so much"

does a 360 for stream

"when did you find time to make this? I thought you were at work????"

"special treat" you shrug

you watch him run across the qsmp and go to ems bakery to sit inside and eat it 😭

he keeps you on stream for a while cause chat loves you n stuff 🫶🫶

[liyawritesss]

ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ

Characters: Spider-Verse!Earth-42!Miles Morales [The Prowler] x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 1.9k

Synopsis: Miles tells his Uncle Aaron the real reason why he’ll always answer his phone for you.

Warnings: Cursing, no usage of [y/n] or second person perspective, brief mention of potential gun usage, old school gang terms (Aaron refers to a gun as a 'pole') I envisioned a late teen 42!Miles so he’s around 17-18 here, but still keep it cute this is lil cuz we talkin’ bout here!!!

A/N: I know I said that the previous fic would more than likely be my only attempt at 42!Miles but the ugly ass nigga is growing on me so…here yall go i guess

Song Suggestions: “So Into You” (Remix) by Sydney Renae; “LORD FORGIVE ME” by Tobe Nwigwe ft. Fat Nwigwe & Pharrell; “Run Tha Streetz” by Tupac, Storm, Mutah, Michel’le

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22 @movie-enthusiast22 @famedrs-blog @briology @honeybleed @pnkweb

Sign Up For My Taglist Here!

It went without saying that if it didn’t pertain to family or business, Aaron wasn’t quite fond of the use of phones.

He had a real old school view on them; didn’t like how kids these days were always stuck nose deep into the devices. Of course, he came from a generation where a phone’s only use was to contact another person. He never got into the hype of the latest iPhones, nor did he understand the need for five different cameras attached to the device. The only benefit he saw with the rectangular device was that it made communication more prompt and precise (though he’d never admit that he appreciated being able to play any games he wanted, at his disposal, at any time he wished).

So, naturally, when Miles became old enough to engage in his ‘business’, the one rule Aaron posed that didn’t pertain to the ‘game’ was that him being on his phone was an absolute no-go.

“I ain’t got time for you to be distracted by that thing,” he’d said the very first night Aaron trusted the younger to bring him along, “if you gon’ be in, I need you to be all the way in. No half-assin’ this shit, you hear?”

And of course, Miles agreed, no matter how insufferable the first few weeks of patrol were when Aaron literally locked his cellular device in a safe back at the workshop. While it served to pry the connection the fifteen year old had with the device at the time, it was also his way of teaching Miles to not rely on the device for communication, prompting Miles to fortify new avenues of such. Aaron had a genius nephew, after all, and expected nothing less from the person who would soon take up his mantle as The Prowler.

Though, Aaron started to notice a shift in the practice behavior a few months ago, and it made him wonder had his teachings begun to fall short, even after a few years of the settled routine.

He’d notice the flexing of the younger’s arm whenever the faint buzz from the vibration of Miles’ phone sounded, no doubt squeezing the device in his pocket with his hand.

Aaron also was not ignorant to Miles’ dipping off to the side to answer a quick call in hushed tones, and the words used to address the other person on the line made it clear to the older man that it wasn’t Rio calling him, and it piqued Aaron’s curiosity even more.

Though, Aaron could never say anything, since Miles was sure to put his phone on do not disturb before heading out into the night, and the calls always remained under a minute or two, not taking too much time away from their very serious business. He found himself frustrated because Aaron couldn’t be mad at him for being responsible for his phone usage, despite his own feelings towards the usage of such devices. Yet, it irked him all the same when Miles would take a peek at his phone during a moment of down time, or when he’d caught the boy staring at his messages a couple of times during a debriefing session.

“Aye, c’mon man,” Aaron finally grumbles out one night, sucking his teeth at the sight of Miles tapping away on the brightly lit screen close to his face, illuminating his melanated features, “I need you outta that shit, we got work to do.”

“A’ight, a’ight,” says the younger as he finishes off a text, pocketing his phone and brushing past Aaron briskly, “just had to answer my girl real quick. I’m off it.”

“You better be,” Aaron scolds, “we need you at a’hunnid tonight, Miles. No excuses.”

Though Aaron wasn’t about to let Miles’ admission slip under the radar, the current task at hand was much more pressing than the revelation that his nephew was seeing someone. He’d have to play the father figure role after tonight's mission was complete.

It’s when the deepest shade of midnight blue begins to fade into faint purple hues that Aaron is able to bring up the conversation once again. He tries to make it light, but over the years, his smooth talk has become just as rustic as his Prowler skills. “I’m gon’ have to bring the safe out again if I keep seein’ that phone, Miles.”

The echo of the younger sucking his teeth in annoyance doesn’t fly past Aaron’s head. It’s the response he expected from his nephew. He turns around from his work desk to face the younger, leaning against one of the many concrete pillars that keep the building intact.

“I’m serious, boy,” Aaron asserts, “you been on that phone a lil’ too much lately, man. I’on like it.”

Miles scratches the side of his face; he knows he doesn’t have much of a good excuse to use as to why his eyes have been more on his phone as of late. Well, not an excuse Aaron would find plausible anyway.

“A’ight, Unc. I’ll chill.”

It’s not the exact response that Aaron expects, but if Miles says that he’ll watch his phone activity, the older believes him. The younger has no reason to lie to him, anyway.

A beat passes before Aaron starts again, crossing to the middle of the room where the large, red punching bag.

“So, is she a good distraction,” he muses with a knowing look, “or do I gotta be worried that she gon’ take your head out the game?”

The younger pauses for a second, braids dancing along his shoulder. Then, a lopsided grin spreads across his lips as his head tilts to the side, his eyes wandering. Aaron knows that kind of look. It’s the look of a boy high on love, and from the way Miles fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck, Aaron can deduct that it’s that good loving, too. The kind of loving that Rio gave Jefferson, and it stole the late brother’s heart. It warms his heart to see his nephew sport a look that someone his age should.

“She’s good.” Miles says. “She’s…real good, Tio. Too good, probably.”

Aaron hums in response, the sound coming from the depths of his throat as he pauses, taking in a breath. “Do she know?”

It’s a hard question to ask; Aaron doesn’t want to blow his nephew’s high, but it’s a necessary one to ask. For the safety of all parties involved.

Miles’ smile falters in the slightest, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as his eyes cast downward.

“She know I do shit on the low. Not…all this, though.” And from the tone in Miles’ voice, he, too, knows that it’s better this way.

The older begins to walk towards the stairs to exit the workshop building, gesturing to Miles to follow, “Good.”

Aaron thinks back to when he first remembers the diversion of behavior started. Although it wasn’t and never became aggressive, it started with Miles casually peeking at his phone every now and then, maybe once or twice throughout the whole night the two were set together. He puts two and two together, his head nodding to the conclusion he’d drawn.

“So it’s her you be textin’?” Aaron asks, descending the stairs.

The younger nods, following in tow, “Just lettin’ her know that I’ma be out and can’t answer the phone, shit like that.”

“And when she do call?”

A light, dry chuckle escapes Miles’ lips at the question. “She just be askin’ me shit.”

“Shit like what?” Aaron muses, twisting the knob to the door leading outside, opening it to reveal purple hues slowly fading into peach in the sky. “What color nails for her to get? Password to the Netflix?”

They get to the car, but the silence that takes place during the short time it takes to approach the older’s vehicle answers his own question before Miles does.

“Yeah, actually,” the younger voice, arms folding atop the car roof, leaning against the sleek black metal as he looks at his uncle, “and the color for her peek-a-boo braids; and if it’s okay if she eats my leftover takeout; and if I can hang up her wall art thingy when I come by-”

“-so what you’re saying is, she’s clingy?” The older’s eyebrows furrow in amusement and slight confusion - the way Miles speaks about the isolated experiences has him questioning what kind of girl his nephew was actually dating.

“You know what’s crazy, though, Tio?” The younger poses, pulling the handle to the passenger car door when he hears the click, signifying Aaron unlocking the vehicle finally. “She’s not clingy like that; it’s somethin’ else.”

“You’re losin’ me, kid.” The older chuckles, closing his door once he’s settled inside the driver's seat.

Miles sucks his teeth, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in thought, and Aaron can tell that the younger is trying to find the right words to distinguish what he means.

“I hear guys say that shit like that is annoying,” Miles begins, tugging at the hem of his shirt to pull it down from riding up his toned stomach, “but it ain’t like that to me. She asks me all these things; think maybe it’s because she feels safe enough to ask them of me. And if she feel like I got the answers for her, then-”

The younger stops mid-sentence, contemplating how to proceed with his explanation. Yet, Aaron is all ears, listening intently. Quite frankly, it’s the most he’s heard Miles talk about anything in a long time - his rambling reminds him of the old Miles that once was, before the unfortunate.

Then, the younger takes a deep breath, reclines back into his seat, legs spread in the slightest for comfortability, his hands running the length of his thighs, “Ionno, Unc. Makes me feel good, I guess.”

And in that moment, Aaron’s vision blurs for a second. He can’t tell if it’s Miles sitting in the passenger seat, or if it’s his late brother. Perhaps it's the glare of the sun in his eyes…perhaps it’s Aaron actually seeing the soul of Jefferson shine through his son in the early morning sunlight that dances across his melanated skin.

A hum passes through the older’s throat as he starts the car up, the sound of the engine revving through the silence that settled within the car. Aaron clears his throat before speaking again, “I’ma tell you what I told your pops about your moms, kid.”

Miles turns his head from the window to face his uncle, who shifts the car from parked to drive, hand sitting at the top of the steering wheel. 

“If she make you feel good, the kinda good you know you can’t get anywhere else, and if she make you feel like a man; you keep her close.” Aaron hums. His lips tug upwards when the younger gives a subtle nod in return.

“I’m serious now, Miles. Don’t be like yo’ daddy.” Aaron reiterates as he pulls his foot off the brakes, turning the steering wheel and pressing down on the gas to drive out of the parking lot. “Dumbass almost lost ya moms cuz he ain’t wanna listen-”

“A’ight, a’ight, I got you,” the younger replies, “I’on think she goin’ anywhere no way, though.”

“Good.” Aaron affirms. “If she know of the kinda game you in, then she need to know how to work somethin’, too. Make sure she can hold you down properly.”

“I’on know about that, Unc,” Miles replies, “she too much of a good girl for that.”

“Shit, good girls work the best poles, boy. Don’t get the game twisted.”

“Unc, no one says ‘poles’ in reference to guns anymore.” The younger says through a chuckle as the two drive off down the street, the purples in the sky now fading into a pretty golden hue that casts over the city that never sleeps.

[lnfours]

invisible string | l.n

-> summary: who knew sleepless nights would be so beneficial. fewtrell!reader bc we love brothers best friend here :)

-> warnings: fluff, language, lando being the absolute loml.

-> wc: 1.9k

masterlist | listen | send me asks about lando !

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

lando norris and max fewtrell had been attached by the hip since anyone could remember. best friends through literally everything. and if someone would look directly behind them, they’d see you always following behind.

you didn’t mind always trailing behind them when you were younger, and it gave the boys someone to compete against besides themselves whenever you’d go karting or join them in games.

but as you grew older, the ganging up turned into protection. from threatening to beat up ex boyfriends to actually doing so, somewhere along the line, max had made it clear to his best friend that you were off limits. in fact, no one in the friend group was allowed to even think about it.

however, everything max had told him seemed to go in through lando’s ear and out the other. he wasn’t exactly sure when he had finally stopped seeing you as ‘just his best friend's little sister’, but the inevitable happened nonetheless.

on the other hand, you had always had feelings for lando. you’d always suppress them to keep them hidden from your overprotective brother, knowing the minute you tried you’d be shot down. even the pages in your diary when you were 8 were filled about how you thought lando ‘had the prettiest eyes’, and ‘too good of eyelashes for a boy’.

and the pining just got worse last week when he had found you knocking on his bedroom door at 1:30 in the morning. you hadn’t been able to sleep, and it was evident as you tiredly smiled at him in the doorway. he wasn’t sure how you knew he was still awake, but he assumed it was the soft glow shining from the crack at the bottom of the door.

it wasn’t. you had heard the low volume of the tv in his room, his soft chuckles making their way through the paper thin walls. he hadn’t been able to sleep either, and when he wasn’t able to sleep, he’d always watch a movie.

his heart got caught in his throat as he took in your appearance, the old mclaren sweatshirt he had let you borrow ages ago hugging your frame, plaid pajama pants he swore were max’s. you looked tired. so so tired. meeting your eyes with a soft smile and sympathetic eyes, he spoke, “you okay, y/n?”

you shook your head, your eyelids slowly blinking, “i can’t sleep. i don’t know what it is, but i haven’t been able to sleep for more than 4 hours the past few nights.”

he frowned, opening the door wider for you to come in. he nodded in the direction of his bed, “me either. wanna join for the rest of the movie til you feel tired enough to go to bed?”

you nodded, stepping into the room as he closed the door behind you. you climbed into his bed, him shuffling in next to you as you were swallowed by the soft duvet, your head meeting the plush pillow behind you.

“what’re we watching?” you asked, your voice soft as he unpaused the movie.

“something on netflix, i don’t know. actings so bad it makes me laugh.”

you smiled over at him, “let’s see if it’s bad enough to put us to sleep.”

this continued for a couple weeks, you either knocking on his door or sending him a text to ask if he was still awake. he had even found himself staying up to make sure he heard your text or knocks, desperately wanting you to come climb into his bed or fall asleep next to you.

and just like any other night, last night he padded across the wooden floors in the apartment quietly after getting your usual ‘are you awake?’ text. he knocked softly on the door before pushing it open and slipping inside your room, noticing the lack of the fairy lights twinkling on the walls, the only source of light coming from the tv that hung on the wall.

you let him climb into your bed, smiling softly as you rolled onto your side to face him, “hi.”

he smiled back, “hi.”

you let out a huff, “i’m starting to think maybe i should run to the store tomorrow and get some melatonin. ”

“or, hear me out,” he smirked tiredly, “you can put that pretty little head to rest at night like normal people do.”

“oh, so you think my head is pretty?”

he let out a boyish giggle, “only if you think mine is.”

you laughed softly, letting your eyes lock with his. you weren’t sure when you scooted so close to him, but he found himself wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you even closer. you placed your leg over his hip, his other hand tracing circles on the soft skin on your thighs. he hummed contently as your face nuzzled into his chest. you found yourself listening to the fast pace of his heartbeat.

over the past couple weeks, you two had found yourself in this position more and more. it was like the more you’d climb into each other’s beds, the more he’d have the confidence to pull you so close to him that there were no gaps for air between you two. you weren’t complaining, of course, but because everything about it was so new and with him, it made you a tiny bit nervous.

you listened to the movie in the background, basking in the smell embedded in his hoodie. he smelled like his cologne, the laundry detergent everyone used, and a soft mix of your perfume. the floral scent pulled at your heart strings as you realized it was the hoodie he had tugged over your head the night before, right after you had complained about the fact he kept his room so cold.

the fact that he didn’t discard the hoodie immediately into the hamper after last night, but instead he put it on, made your heart squeeze. you wondered if he had put it on to bask in the smell of you, but you'd never know the answer because you were too embarrassed to ask.

he did.

“so,” you started, knowing he was still awake, the two of you just basking in the comfortable silence that fell over you, “ready to get back to racing?”

“yes and no,” he said, his thumb switching directions on the skin of your thigh, making stars now, “i like being home, but i also love racing, y’know, so i’m excited. but not excited to leave everyone.”

your fingers traveled underneath the red cloth of his hoodie, reaching his lower abdomen as you felt his breathing hitch softly in his chest. you drug your fingertips against his soft skin, “yeah, i get you,” you said into his chest, “gonna miss max more than me, i get it.”

he chuckled softly, “mhm, whatever you want to believe.”

however, it sent him over the edge when you moved your head to look up at him. his blue/green eyes met your tired ones, a soft and playful smile on your lips, “what?”

humming back at you as he softly raised his eyebrows, “hmm?”

you shook your head, a playful smile on your lips, “don’t do that. what did you say, lan?”

he cleared his throat nervously, cheeks daring to turn a light shade of pink, “i’m going to miss you the most out of everyone, y/n.”

you were silent as he let out a soft puff of air, his eyes scanning over your face like he was trying to memorize it. you smiled softly, his eyes lingering on your lips before meeting yours again.

“lando,” your voice was soft, hands moving from under his sweatshirt to cup his cheeks. he leaned into your touch, quietly sighing out of relief at the feeling he had been waiting so long for, “i…”

you trailed off, nerves getting the best of you. he was so close, his minty breath fanning over your face. everything about it was making you so nervous you swore you were about to go into cardiac arrest. his voice broke the silence, “i know.”

you looked at him with furrowed brows, “you know what?”

“i know you like me,” he smiled, his eyes meeting with yours again, “i’ve known ever since max and i snuck into your room when we were eight and i read your diary.”

you gasped, laughing as you slapped his chest, “you fucks!”

he smiled, “i was the only one who read it, but it was nice to know the girl i thought was cute liked me back.”

“do you still think she’s cute?”

“no,” he smiled softly. you felt your heart drop, you couldn’t tell if he was being serious or kidding, until he continued, “i think she’s the most gorgeous woman i’ve ever seen in my life.”

you smiled, his thumb pressing against your cheek as his hand cupped your face, his fingers meeting the hairs at the back of your ear. you weren’t sure who leaned in first, but the gap closed rather quickly as he pulled your neck down to his level.

you kissed him back with the same amount of passion and love as he put into it. his arm that was around your waist moved to the other side of your head, his body fully hovering over you as he held himself up. you let him slot between your legs, letting his tongue slip inside of your mouth.

you panted as he broke the kiss hesitantly, his lips finding the soft spot underneath your earlobe on your neck. you let out a soft whimper, your arms wrapping around his neck.

“lando,” the sound of you saying his name breathlessly was like music to his ears, “baby.”

and so was that pet name. fuck he was so done for.

his hands trailed up your oversized t-shirt, hands finding your tummy as he desperately wanted to touch your skin again. you smiled into the kiss as you heard a soft giggle escape his throat when your hands had found the ticklish spots on his sides.

“are you ticklish?” you grinned, breaking the kiss to take a breath. he sent you a tight lipped smile before giving you a warning look.

“don’t even-”

you didn’t listen to what else he had said, your fingers digging into his sides. he laughed, desperately trying not to wake up your housemates as he tried to get you to quit it.

however, when he flipped the both of you so you were in his lap and his hands found your ticklish spots with ease, you knew it was game over. he had won.

“lando,” you breathed, a giggle following in pursuit, “stop!”

“sorry, baby,” he said, “can’t hear you.”

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

it was the next morning, lando was still asleep in your bed, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his fluff of curls, a blanket wrapped around his waist as he faced you. you had woken up a couple minutes ago, your eyes wandering over to the sleeping boy next to you. he looked at peace, his eyelashes kissing his skin, cheek squished against the pillow.

you didn’t mean to stir him out of his sleep when you snuggled in closer, but he hummed happily as he threw an arm around your waist, you nuzzling into his chest.

he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, resting his head on yours as you both dozed back off to sleep. a sleep so deep that neither of you had heard the door to the apartment shut, or hear someone knocking on your bedroom door.

it was ethan and niran who found you first. the both of them sharing a look as they stood in the doorway.

“well, it’s about time,” ethan joked, niran smirking down at the couple.

“yeah, just wait for max to find out about this.”

[liyaauhr]

SBG RANDOM HEADCANONS 🎀🔥

— When Tyler first saw Ashlyn’s hair he had a mini HEART ATTACK and not because the girl had the audacity to just blindly used a KNIFE to cut all her hair off without even thinking but also because of how fugly and uneven it turned out to be. The following day he brought a pair of cutting sheers to the bus and fixed her hair up while scolding and rambling on at her like a pissed off mother in Spanish. Ashlyn was just confused because her Spanish weren’t sufficient to keep up with Tyler’s speed but she was smart enough to know everything Tyler was saying was probably to be repeated to Lily…but he also made a point of smacking her hand away every Ashlyn got impatient and tried doing it herself.

(She started paying more attention to Spanish classes after that).

— Taylor and Aiden are not trusted to do ANYTHING together by themselves. Tyler is the worst Aiden enabler ever, if he has a dumb idea she will try to talk it out of him for 2 minutes MAX and then give up and join him instead (if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em). This once lead to them destroying a whole supermarket aisle while trying ride down their trolleys as fast as possible and then the second incident ensued them getting lost for 3 hours at a theme park (the only reason the rest of the gang found them in the end because Aiden somehow managed to sneak into the theme parks control room and use the mic).

— More Taylor and Aiden (because not enough people talk about these two!!!): They’re banned from playing music in the car. Aiden plays the same songs repeatedly on full blast and Taylor's song choices always end up starting a fight.

— Out of all of the gang the ones who get the best grades are Tyler, Logan and Aiden in that order. Logan and Tyler actually try really hard in class which is why they usually get A’s but while the STEM side of Logan’s grades are shining, the English side? Not so much. He’s working on it though! Somehow Aiden gets As and Bs while paying 0 attention in class. Taylor usually gets Bs with the occasional A, Ben usually gets B’s and Ashlyn’s grades have been slipping because of all the stress in the phantom realm, she used to get Bs and As but now she’s been seeing a lot more Cs and even D’s.

— Tyler and Ashlyn get forced to hold hands every time they argue until they apologise. Takes a damn long time for that to happen because it’s Taylor and Ashlyn. Why not just stop holding hands, you ask? Turns out Taylor Hernandez can be a REAL BITCH sometimes.

— Ben is an observer, sometimes when the group hangs out and something interesting happens, he’d sketch it out on his notepad and finish it at home. He also has sketches of all his friends but doesn’t like to show anyone because he’s a perfectionist lol.

— Even though Aiden’s house is the biggest, it’s actually Ashlyn’s house they mainly hang around with because of one thing: her parents. The Banners ended up becoming second parents to literally all of the kids and actually enjoy having them around.

— Adding onto the previous headcanon, Ashlyn’s parents have little details of the kid’s memorised. Like Logan’s peanut allergy, the way the Hernandez twins always linger around to try and help out someway,

— Aiden and Ben have separate rooms but more often than not Aiden usually ends up having spontaneous sleepovers in Ben’s room. Ben doesn’t mind and enjoys the company and Aiden dislikes the memories associated with his room.

— Taylor loves Taylor Swift, Ashlyn hates her for it (if she has to hear love story one more time she will sell Taylor to a phantom).

— Every time they hang out at Aiden’s house Taylor somehow always gets lost.

— They all make a point to show up for eachothers’ personal events e.g Tyler’s baseball games, Ashlyn’s ballet performances, help out at Logan’s greenhouse etc.

— Tyler is a secret romcom lover.

— Logan and Aiden are the resident horror enthusiasts.

[eccentricallygothic]

|| The Farmer's Way ||

Description: With the gang gone for good, Arthur had retired and you were his reward. Or so he believed. 

Pairing: Dark!Arthur Morgan | Gender-Neutral Spouse!You. 

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Arthur Morgan or the RDR universe. This story contains dark and mature content so browse at your own discretion, please. Minors do not interact. 

Warning(s): Noncon/Dubcon, gross stuff because that's all I think about while playing the game, age gap, groping, dirty talk, degradation, doggy style, penetration, spanking, biting/marking, sexism, wife kink but it doesn't matter what you identify as because he's gross like that so tw for sure. 

Note: Fair warning, he's a bit of a sicko and I am a mental slut. Also this is kinda my first time with gender neutral smut so I am very sorry if I got something wrong. I am willing to rectify if I did make any such mistake. 

The hot June air blew past you and pricked at your rather pampered skin. You felt a droplet of sweat trickle down your temple as you winced and shielded your face from the sun, the rays now attacking the skin of your arm instead. A grunt escaped you when you willed your feet, which were clad in some glittery pumps, to push on towards the huge barn of your family farm. A string of disgusted curses foxed their way out of your mouth when the smell of dung and hay wafted into your nostrils from the giant red wooden box that was literally radiating stinky heat. 

Your feet halted right outside the heavy double doors and you had to take a long breath to brace yourself before you entered. Your features scrunched in disdain as you tried to hold your breath, clutching the cool jug and glass that you were holding tighter as you slipped inside before the weight of the door caused it to close by itself. Clenching your jaw to focus on the task at hand, you slowly walked forwards and concentrated on your breathing to ensure you didn't inhale any of the barn filth. 

It was a fairly easy piece of work.

Give the lemonade to your husband and leave. 

Simple, right? 

No. 

Not when said husband is Arthur Morgan. 

As his fingers wrapped around your wrists to keep you from leaving after you had placed the jug and glass down, your breath hitched as you felt a bile rise in your throat from pure disgust. The dust and sweat on his fingers was gut wrenching. 

"Fixin' to leave already?" His other hand came up to tangle in one of the two silky ribbons you wore on both sides of your head in half ponytails after he had pulled you against his hard chest, the coarse hairs on his chest scratching the skin of your back. "I was missin' you so much, baby" you uneasily shifted in his hold, goosebumps rising on your skin when you felt his fingers trail up from your wrist to your forearm. "It's almost like you showed up 'cause you read my mind" you could barely suppress your gasp as your body jumped in reaction to his stubbly lips suddenly finding your ear. 

"I…" Your voice was a mere squeak and you had to concentrate to make yourself sound a bit less pathetic. "I left the food on the stove" your eyes fluttered shut before clenching as you suppressed the urge to retch at both the feeling and smell, arm folding to let your elbow press into the side of his torso. The man only hummed as his browned and dirty hands felt you up, basically frisking your barely clad body as his lips pressed rushed kisses against your neck. "A- Arthur!" You flinched when he bit down on a hickey on the junction of your neck, fingers finding your nipples through the sheer fabric of one of the many silk dresses he made you wear. 

The older man did not budge, only grunting when you probed his chest harder, hips trying to wriggle free. "The grub can wait, hush now" your limbs screamed at you to fight. Try and push him away. Hit him with something. Make a run for it. Never look back. "Mmm, baby" your eyes teared up when his other hand slipped from the ribbon to trail down your abdomen and to your nether regions. "If it was up to me, I'd keep ya bare as a jaybird 'round the clock" your jaw clenched at his words but you knew better than to hurl the heavy jug that was in front of you against his head. 

Because you had done stuff like that countless times in the beginning of your forced marriage seven months ago. 

Except, you had no idea how but your husband had somehow trained and kept a number of wolves to guard the property only God knew how. 

No one could come in and you could never leave. 

The punishments that you had been subjected to upon trying to do so were more than enough to keep you on your best behavior. 

"Oh, darlin', you taste mighty fine" you were flipped and easily backed into one of the many stables. "Now, let me try out that pretty little mouth" your eyebrows scrunched as you craned your neck backwards to get away from him. The reverberations of Arthur's chuckle buzzed through your chest as he pressed into you and left you trapped and helpless. "Ain't ya just a foolish little thing? Thinkin' you can get away from your old man?" His rough palms cupped your face as he dipped his head in, chasing your lips with his own and snickering when you tried to move. 

When you had seen this mysterious cowboy turn up to buy your family farm off of your useless brother seven months ago, you had not thought much of it. Sure, you were angry that his gambling had ended him up in so much debt that he had no choice but to sell off your family legacy, but you had bright plans with your scholarship program at a prestigious college, and you had been so ready to leave this life that you had never liked much in the first place behind for one of revolution and modernity. 

Only, when all of your documentation as well as your brother and his family disappeared the night before your final departure, the then stranger and now your husband revealed that you had been part of the deal. 

As Arthur fucked into you on your wedding night -as he had promised your brother that he would not take you before that-, the man had confessed how lovely you had looked resting on a tree branch as you chewed on your lip, completely engrossed in your book. 

You knew alcohol and the colorful powders that your brother loved to use had done his mind in, but handing you off like merchandise to a man with no regard for your orientation or taste was something you had never expected from him. Not after he had been your legal guardian for so long. 

But then again, he never understood your ways and thought revolution was a blasphemy. 

In your brother's world, you either did the hard work on the field or became a field worker's home runner. 

And your open disdain for the farm work had earned you the latter. 

The irony was laughable, because he probably thought he was protecting you by choosing a secure future for his baby sibling. The right thing. 

Your spark had always scared him, and so he suppressed it once and for all under the mundaneness of the farm by locking you up in his own kind of a gilded cage and handing the keys to the man who was all over you at the moment.  

'Excitement is a double edged sword. It is thrilling and promising but it can also be dangerous.' That you couldn't deny.

The thrumming in your nether regions was proof. 

Frightening, shameful, repulsive proof.

"Arthur…" You whimpered as your vision zeroed in on his rough lips that brushed against yours soon before pressing into them. 

The man moaned, rubbing his crotch against yours as he deepened the kiss by tilting his head to the side and forcing his tongue in your mouth, the taste of cigarettes and coffee making you cringe and try to move away but a tight squeeze to your ass with his coarse hand made you gasp and hence open your mouth. Then his tongue was down your throat. 

Everything was rough and dirty about him. 

You hated it.

Sometimes he purposely rubbed his filth against your clean clothes and body to add insult to injury. He would laugh as you would hold your breath and try to get away only to be trapped between his strong body and some surface. Arthur would then watch you squirm and struggle until you ran out of breath and had no choice but to inhale his scent. 

"Dang it, I can't hold back no more" Arthur was panting when he finally broke off to let you both breathe, one of his hands bolting down to his belt while the other one held you steady. "I need ya right now…" The kiss had flushed your lips and you could feel the change in size as you ran your tongue over them to accumulate some moisture. "You gonna be good and take it for me, darlin', won't ya?" And while your brain screamed at you to know better, you squeezed your legs and whined, taking deep breaths as one of your fists bunched some of his sweaty shirt in it. 

"Arthur…" A small smirk made its way on his face while he hurriedly relieved himself of all decency. He recognized that tone. 

"Now ya know better than to call me that, baby" heat spread across your cheeks as you whimpered, biting your lip before you lowered your head and reached for his hand that was pinching one of your nipples through your sheer dress. "Go on now, you know my preference" your eyes fluttered shut as you took a shaky breath, massaging the hand that was toying with your chest and arching your back. 

"... H- Hubby…" Arthur cursed under his breath like he always did whenever he got you to call him that. Then he reached out for your other hand and brought it to his erect cock, the feeling of its thick veins against your soft fingertips causing your hole to clench around air. 

"Aw, shit, darlin'" he guided your hand up and down his twitching cock. "Can ya feel it?" His body pressed against yours. "This here is what ya do to me" the tip of his organ released some hot precum and you couldn't help but shudder at the memories it triggered. 

Memories of how it felt inside you. 

Before you knew it, as always, reason was out the window before you could grab onto it and your mind had decided shame could come later. Who knew when or if you would ever make it out of here and Arthur was way too good at making you feel strange things that kept you giving into him for more.

"Please, hubby" you whispered, unable to hold back anymore as you worked your wrist to please him. "Please…"

"Please, what, baby?" He pecked your lips over and over before moving down to the corner of your mouth and then further along your jaw. "Use your words for me" his lips locked around a patch of your delicate skin as he sucked, causing you to bend your back outwards. "Get, now."

"P- Please take me…" You shuddered as the sound of his lips forming yet another bruise along the expanse of your neck grew louder and louder in the air. "Please… please…" You couldn't get yourself to utter any more obscenity than that. 

"You mean you want me to fuck you?" Your heart dropped at the bluntness of his words, the feeling of his stubbly lips curling against your skin almost making you want to retreat, but only almost. 

Besides, you couldn't leave on your accord even if you wanted to. 

Though you really didn't want to leave this barn anymore. 

Not before the ache between your legs was relieved. 

When you didn't respond verbally, Arthur clicked his tongue as he came back up to face you and reached for his hat before placing it on your head. He loved to take you like that. "Come on, darlin'. You know I ain't gon' do nothin' 'til you say it for me" but then one of his hands creeped between your legs to caress your intimate part and your legs trembled in reaction; body submitting at once. 

Taking in a deep and shaky breath, you braced yourself before mumbling out your words, hoping and praying they were enough for him because you knew as well as you knew it was day that you didn't have any more indecency in you to talk the kind of filth he could with a straight face.

"P- Please fuck me, hubby…" One of his eyebrows raised as he leaned in closer. 

"I'm sorry, what was that there?" You almost choked his cock between your fingers but you knew better than hostility. 

"I- I said…"

"You said?" 

Your jaw clenched in annoyance because you were so needy all thanks to his dirty hands and now he was not helping. 

"I said p- please fuck me, hubby" you said as clearly as you possibly could, tone almost blunt. 

He finally seemed intent. "Your wish is my command, darlin'" the man had you flipped and bent over the stable before you could even register it. 

Your gaze settled on the little pony in front of you as you felt his stiff tip prod your entrance, the foreplay having lubed his cock more than enough. Since you weren't allowed to wear underwear, the lack of it granted him easier access to you and Arthur was sliding in with a grunt a moment later, squeezing both your ass cheeks at the same time as he cursed. 

"Fuck, baby. You're the tightest little thing I've ever laid down with" your fingers gripped the stable as you jumped when he landed a spank to one of your cheeks, slowly moving through you to get you to adjust. "Shit, look at you. Such a pretty little farm wife, baby" your face scrunched up in both discomfort and sensory overload due to how sensitive you felt down there. 

"Please…" Your mouth always betrayed you in moments like these despite your best efforts to stay as quiet as possible. 

But it felt even better when you let it get the best of you and drown you completely, the vile words coming out of your own mouth adding to the pressure between your hips before stars exploded in your vision. 

"Please what, sweet little thing?" You felt his chest drape over your back as he rubbed his stubbly cheek against yours, hips starting to find a rhythm as the speed of his thrusts increased. 

"Please… more" you couldn't help but lean your face against his to withstand the sensitivity, eyes fluttering as you chewed on your bottom lip in concentration, your velvety walls sheathing his veiny cock with every push. 

Arthur's chest reverberated against your back. "Ya act like you're too good for all this, but deep down you're just a horny little hussy, ain't ya darlin'?" You whined loudly as you clenched around him, starting to move your own hips against his now. "Jus' look at you, whinin' and squeezin' 'round me in front of li'l Sally like a silly 'lil jezebel" that was what you had named the pony that stared at you with her curious eyes. "But ya love that deep down, don't ya?" Your eyebrows furrowed when his words started to crack the haze that had formed in your mind, making you lower your head to cancel him out and focus on your relief.

But you could never win with Arthur. 

"You can go on ahead and deny it all you want. But this trashy li'l hole of yours tells me all I need to know everytime, honey" his lips bluntly moved against the shell of your ear as he gathered one of your knees in his hands and pushed it up against the frame of the stable before finding its way to your nipples again, other hand gliding down to the quivering organ between your legs. 

As Arthur's hips sped up and your body started to rock back and forth against the wooden frame with each powerful thrust, the sound of skin clapping against its like filled up the smelly barn. His hat fell over your eyes and you knew you were in for a long day. 

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

I really want the show to go into more detail about Husk's backstory as an overlord, partly because I feel like it's something the fandom is kinda glossing over and partly because it's lowkey one of the biggest obstacles that a Husk/Angel relationship would have into overcome.

'Loser Baby' emphasises the similarities between Angel and Husk's situations, but it also (probably deliberately, since Husk is the one leading it) brushes aside one of the most major differences between them.

Namely that when Husk tells Angel that he's not the only one who sold his soul, he's not just singing about himself.

Husk sold his soul to Alastor, yeah (or lost it at least, which amounts to the same thing), but he also traded in souls. He was that “psychopathic freak”, and was operating fro long enough to achieve Overlord status.

And, honestly? Having your soul owned by Husker back in the day probably sucked.

The one benefit of soul contracts for the person selling their soul is that they seem to get a fair amount of say in how the contract is written.

Angel's contract, for example, apparently has a clause stating that he's only under Valentino's jurisdiction when he's in the studio. (Which, btw, puts a whole other spin on why Val is so pissed when he moves out of studio accommodation and into the Hotel.) And Val is apparently bound to that. Even though he's pissed off and actively wants to put Angel in his place, he can't make any moves against him in the club.

Equally, since most overlords seem to be associated with a specific location/industry, you can generally choose who your working for and therefore roughly what kind of stuff you're gonna be doing.

In practice there seems to be a lot of manipulation and coercion going on on the part of the Overlords making these contracts— they're not fair by any means— but the sinners signing them are theoretically at least guaranteed the right to a (somewhat) informed choice and some control over the deals they make.

Having an Overlord who uses human souls to pay his gambling debts, however, completely undermines all that.

Imagine going into work for your job running the roulette games at the casino only to be told that the boss played a bad hand in a game with Valentino, and so you're a sex worker now.

Or being traded to someone who has you fighting turf wars for them, and realising that your contract doesn't have any clauses to protect your personal safety because you only signed up to be a bartender.

Or selling your soul for a job near your home and family so you can guarantee their protection, only to be traded to someone whose territory is on the other side of the pentagram.

Husk is a victim of his own addiction, yeah, which is one of the reasons why Angel relates to him. But his backstory implies that there must be a significant number of people out there who were also victims of Husk's addiction, and may not be as sympathetic. Dude basically owned other people as property (… we have a word for that) and then literally played games with their lives.

And like, I'm not saying he hasn't changed. He seems more empathetic on the show than his backstory would imply, and apart from anything else, he's had a pretty clear object lesson about what it's like to be on the receiving end of that sort of thing. (Ngl, I'm pretty sure one of the reasons Alastor keeps him around is because he's the type to find the irony amusing.)

But like, he's in this place where he can relate to Angel Dust's situation, while at the same time probably also being able to relate to Valentino and Alastor's perspectives (although I doubt he was quite as bad as Val to work for).

And I'm curious as to what would happen, later in the series, if the gang met someone who had sold their soul to Husk at one point. Someone who would also be able to relate to Angel's situation, but with Husk as their version of Valentino.

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Hcs for how each of the boys to react to "I'm pregnant"?

Any of them that you want to write for :)

So excited

English not my first language. Sorry

Van Der Linde Gang's Boys' Reactions To "I'm pregnant" (And Eagle Flies)

Hehehe this was so cute and also I didn't edit this ❤️

Warnings: none

Arthur Morgan

He'd be so fucking happy

Probably in disbelief at first but oh my God he'd be overjoyed

Ask you if you're serious over and over

Once he's convinced he's gonna ask all these questions about your physical and mental wellbeing

Celebrates with you (whatever that entails wink wink)

In his elated haze he's gonna wanna ask all these questions about your future together as parents

Is aware the gang ain't the best place to raise a kid but he'll reassure you that you'll have the whole gangs support

John Marston

Oh god

Let's just say he wouldn't be the most elated parent 😭💀

He's already got Jack and now he needs to take care of another?

If this were a revelation that came earlier in the game he's gonna be very irresponsible but I feel like he wouldn't deny that the kid was his

So at that point he's sort of forced to actually give a damn about him

And believe me he'd try but he wouldn't be the best at it, would need guidance

If this came later in the game like epilogue he'd probably be WAY more happier.

Your lives are finally settled and you can afford to have a kid

He'd be the happiest and more supportive husband and dad

Still wouldn't be sure about all the ropes but he'd try

Dutch Van Der Linde

He'd be SO happy

Like genuinely he'd shower you with gifts and praise and reassurance

I feel like part of it would be a power thing for him because not only can he lead a gang, but now he can lead a family

Also some sort of weird power symbol for him. Idk how, but it is

Wouldn't let you lift a finger

Would probably keep you in his tent to rest 24/7 and only allows a few people (Grimshaw, Hosea) to see you

He's going to hope and pray it's a boy

Charles Smith

HE'D BE IN SO MUCH SHOCK AND FEEL SM HAPPINESS IT'D BE SO CUTE

You sorta have to repeat the news to him a few times for him to fully absorb it

Literally a dream of his to start a family one day so now that he has it he's ecstatic

Probably incentive to leave the gang though, doesn't want his child growing up in that environment

Would prefer if you sit back and rest but won't hold you back if you don't want to

Javier Escuella

This is cause to celebrate

Takes you into town on a date

Offers you massages, foot rubs, hand massages

Sings to you to calm you

Holds your hair when you throw up (true love)

Buys you clothes to accomodate to your changing body

Kieran Duffy

THE SWEETEST REACTION

I feel like he'd start crying

Asks to touch your belly and would speak to it

That night he'd fall asleep while holding it

Wakes up the next morning and remembers you're pregnant and his day is already off to an amazing start

Get drunk while celebrating it and he'd boast to everyone about how he's gonna be a dad

Sean Macguire

He'd say some stupid shit I already know it

Probably crack a sex joke

He's getting stupid, fucking drunk. I'm talking black out

He's probably gonna wanna celebrate if you catch my drift HAHAHA

He'd forget to be gentle sometimes out of excitement, like carrying you around and cheering

Refuses to let you do any work

In private I feel like he'd cry

Lenny Summers

He'd probably panic a bit at first

Ask all these questions about how you guys are gonna be parents and if you're even ready

Once the two of you talk through it a little more he'll calm down and his nerves turn to excitement

I'm assuming y'all would be real young so he'd seek for a lot of guidance in the others

Constantly asks you questions about what you want and need

Bill Williamson

He'd be so flustered and nervous

Probably in disbelief for a while and asks if you're serious

I wouldn't blame you for thinking he's upset with the news at first

But he just needs time to process how his life's about to change!

He becomes even more gentle with you, more than he already is

Will argue with Miss Grimshaw about letting you rest/lightening your work load

And let's be real, she would lower your work load but he'd insist it stops altogether

Micah Bell

He'd be in disbelief, but bad disbelief

That or the sleaziest reaction

I'm leaning more towards sleazy reaction

Talks about how he's gonna raise the bravest kid and he's constantly gonna reference to the kid as he because I'm convinced he wants a boy

Brags to the others

Don't get me wrong the gang's happy for you but the way Micah uses it as a point of elevation is IRRITATING

Hosea Matthews

He's the cutest like seriously

He'd be sooo happy

Probably in disbelief that he even managed to get you pregnant

I believe he'd cry, and openly, he's not ashamed! He's happy!

Announces it to the whole gang, means for celebration

Takes you on dates to buy cute little baby items ahhh

Eagle Flies

HE'D FREAK THE FUCK OUT

Pace around the room asking if you're for real, contemplates his entire life, curses himself for cumming inside

You'd have to calm him down and talk him through it

It'd be a super emotional moment for the two of you, eventually he'd realize he's fine with the idea of kids and he's just nervous!

Would ask his dad and a lot of tribe members for advice

Over time he'd get way more excited and bring up the topic more often

[triglycercule]

do you think that the bad sanses and the star sanses have whole ass fanclubs that follow their every move

the fanclubs are made up OCs and simps and self inserts and people who are just obsessed with these characters. they cannot leave their respective aus because the fans will find them. both teams regularly have stalker fans breaking into their homes. there are whole communities on the undernet dedicated to the teams. as soon as they are spotted in the multiverse update accounts tweet about whete they were spotted. it's like theyre multiversal celebrities except it's a protectors of aus, 2 emotion guardians who have beef, and a few random mortals that these immortal people dragged along

for the star sanses its a lot more freaky and scary. swap had to get ink to find a way to keep his underswap protected from all the people who would swarm the au and bother him in his day to day life. dream struggles with being able to help the people in danger who actually need help because every tine he enters an au people always swarm him for his autograph and photos (he has it the WORST with his positive aura making more people like him too 😭😭😭) ink tries to do this job but then he just gets distracted by the swarm of people gawking at the fact that OMG the protector of aus is here holy crap!!! and then he has to find a clever way to escape the swarm. it's really not fun for the stars

the bad sanses on the other hand have come up with a way to (kinda) avoid the fans. nightmare sends out the gang to go on missions with costumes and secret identities and stuff. 50% of the time missions fail because the costums get ruined or the fans are just smart enough to figure out the bad sanses are here 💀 killer started off enjoying all the attention but after a good month of thr fans swarming him it started to piss him off. dust tries to teleport away every time a fan spots him but thenANOTHER fan sees him. it's like a sick game of hide and seek for him. horror immediately gives up on the mission as soon as he's spotted because theres no point. nightmare has given all of them free reign to kill thhose stupid fans (even if it gets rid of negativity he CANT PROGRESS WITH HIS EVIL PLANS WHEN THERES LITERAL WALLS OF PEOPLE STOPPING HIM)

it's misery for all of them

[periprose]

Heyyy I’m literally playing through ps4 Spider-Man again 🤣!

I was wondering if I could request a ps4 fic, maybe Peter and reader have been dating for a while, and she gets hurt during the explosion and he can’t find her but she’s with may at feast with like a broken arm or something?? (She knows he’s Spider-Man) 👀🫶🏼

hey lol thanks for requesting! I'm on the first playthrough of the game myself. Basically this is set during the explosion at the election event in the game, and Peter and you are there to proudly watch Officer Davis accept his award.

/

"Hey." Peter comes up from behind you on the sidewalk, fixing wrinkles in his civilian clothes. He must've just changed.

"Hey, Parker." You nudge him. "Ready to go watch Osborn smooch up to the well-meaning audience of Manhattan?"

"Well, ready as I'll ever be." Peter takes your hand. "I'm really just there to watch Davis get his well-deserving award, y'know. Hey, didn't I tell you to stop calling me Parker?"

"Meh, you love it." You joke. "You'll always be Parker to me, even if you are my boyfriend now. It's our thing."

Peter shakes his head, but you know based on his little smile- he loves that you have a little thing just for him.

Together, you walk to the intersection in front of City Hall, where many people crowd around, waiting for Mayor Osborn and whatever speech he's about to give today. They're all dressed in Osborn themed merchandise, cheering and clapping.

You can't believe this many people care about Osborn's so-called promises to the city- you and Peter are really hoping he won't be re-elected this term after all- but people are clapping for him, and you sigh knowing that your cost of living is about to go up.

"Hey. Wipe that frown off your face. We're here to be supportive." Peter whispers from next to you in the crowd, and you nod.

"Where's Davis? Is that him?" You whisper back, pointing to an older black man up on the stage.

"Yup. You wouldn't believe it, he was so helpful in Hell's Kitchen. Dude whipped out his gun and had my back like we've been best buds for years." Peter smiles. "There's not many out there doing it like him."

"He sounds like a real treasure. I'm glad you have someone on your side." You squeeze Peter's hand, and continue to look up towards the stage in mild excitement.

You don't really care for Osborn's speech- Peter laughs about his promise to open up technology for NYC when you both know that's reserved for the elite- but you both grin when Davis, looking nervous as ever, walks up the stage to receive his award.

"It is my privilege to present Officer Jefferson Davis with the Department Medal of Honour." Osborn hangs a medal around Davis' neck, and you and Peter clap.

"I'm so glad this is all over. The gang war, I think." Peter whispers to you, and you raise your eyebrows.

"Really? Does this mean you'll finally be a little safer?" You ask, but Peter frowns a little.

"Well, there's some loose ends still to be tied up, but-"

"Loose ends?" You give him a wary glance. "Like what?"

"Like whatever 'Consolidated Shipping' is. It doesn't make sense." Peter sighs, watching concern grow on your face. "It's not right, but I'll figure it out."

Davis says a few words- he thanks his wife and his son, Miles, who you can see is sitting up at the front of the stage.

"Aw, cute kid." You remark to Peter, and he nods, gaining a slightly sheepish smile.

"Officer Davis did say I remind him of his son. I'll take it as a compliment." Peter jokes, and you snicker, calling him even more of a baby.

Behind you, Sable guards are talking on their walkie talkies about "keeping eyes on Osborn," which to you sounds as if they perceive a threat. You turn back to tell Peter, when he suddenly flinches.

"Peter-?"

He grabs his head, panicking- you watch as his pupils dilate, and he's clearly in some kind of shock.

"Everything feels off-" Peter flinches again, and you know he's having a Spider-Sense meltdown. There must be multiple things happening at once- even worse, you're not sure what he's supposed to do in this situation. He's not suited up, and he risks revealing his identity if he does anything.

Either way, Peter runs behind you. He shoves people out of the way, trying to get to the back of the event, behind the audience, but he's not fast enough. There are men arriving out of cars- corrupted men, turning that strange grey-blue-transparent hue that confirms their connection with Martin Li.

Peter runs- he dashes- but you see him flinch again, cowering under such threatening energy. He turns to the stage in horror, and you gasp in shock.

There's another corrupted on stage, covered in explosive devices.

An explosion goes off behind you, to the right of you, than another massive one on stage- the ground shakes beneath you, and you're too in shock to move.

"Get down!" Peter shoves you back, attempting to push you out of the way, just as another two explosions cause the earth under you to rattle, and you lose your footing and fall back on the pavement. You twist your arm unnaturally and hit your head.

You black out, the last thing you see being massive blue-black explosions in the sky.

/

Peter wakes to floating ash in the sky.

He coughs- there's a sharp pain in his right side, and a slight ache at the top of his hairline- he touches his forehead and pulls his fingers away to see brown-red, dry blood.

It doesn't matter. He'll heal faster than most, anyways- he needs to locate you.

He gets up, seizes a little due to the pain- and to his alarm, you're nowhere in his near sight. He walks around seeing Sable guards help people off the streets- although Peter really thinks they're poking and prodding and shoving them away, so they can clean up the mess around here.

He hopes you haven't been taken away by Sable guards.

Peter rushes to the nearest clinic- but there's too many people crowding around there with their injuries, and the receptionist at the emergency room tells him there's no one by your name here.

He begins to panic. You're not responding to his calls, either. Peter doesn't want to believe the worst could've happened to you, but he does hear people talking on the streets about the casualties. Apparently at least 10 people have been found dead so far- Peter starts swearing under his breath.

He decides to head to FEAST- he's not sure if you'll be there, but it's better to ask Aunt May or some of the volunteers if you've been seen. FEAST also operates as an emergency medical clinic, too, even with limited supplies, and it's with this small amount of hope that Peter travels there.

Pushing through the doors, the front desk woman- Amanda- she's startled by how intensely Peter asks about you.

"I don't know, Peter." She points to the main auditorium, where many homeless and injured people are currently being attended to. "It's kind of an open house back here- you're going to have to look through the crowds."

Peter sighs. "Thanks, Amanda."

It takes him about fifteen minutes to do a full, quick walkthrough. The entire time, his heartbeat thumps faster as he realizes- he's not seeing you anywhere. There's nobody wearing your trademark scarf, your usual dark blue jeans- nobody with your fastidious expression, where you always seem to take in the entire world before speaking- nobody to relieve the steady ache in his heart.

Peter walks into the room full of medical supplies, expecting to see Aunt May- and while May is there, busy with another volunteer, the first thing he sees is you, with your hair all disheveled and messy, bruises on your cheek and a cut under your lip, and your arm wrapped in a cast and a sling.

But you have a soft, comforting smile. You're kneeling down to help a little girl- she can't be older than five- and you're placing a bandage on her knee. And the little girl squeals, hugging you after you say "It's all better now."

Peter would agree with that.

You look up, arms still embraced around the little girl- Rina is her name- to see Peter, looking wistful, sad, a clear lump in his throat. His eyes are watery.

"Peter?" You watch as he comes forward.

"I thought you were- I thought..." He wipes his eyes. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Well, Little Rina over here needed a little bit of medical attention." You kindly tap her shoulder and she nods up at Peter, smiling. "She tripped and fell and no one was paying attention to her knee, so I decided to help her."

"That's..." Peter trails off, wondering how you could be so selfless when your own face was looking a bit worse for wear. "That's sweet of you to do. How do you feel, kiddo?"

He kneels towards her, and she grins really big. "Better!"

"Alright, high five then." Peter high fives her, and she dashes off afterwards, most likely looking for the parent she came with.

"Why didn't you respond to my calls?" Peter asks you as soon as you turn back to him. "I thought... I thought the worst had happened-"

"Peter, please. Stop with the wounded ego." May calls him out, listening from the sidelines. "What's important is that she's safe and in one piece- that's more than enough to feel grateful about."

Peter looks down, ashamed. He knows May is right, and he has to swallow his pride for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Peter." You grasp his hand, and he looks back at you, jaw tight as he listens. "I didn't mean to not answer your calls- my phone got shattered. And I didn't know where to find you after I woke up- I was already being taken away by Sable guards to 'safety' and then I decided my best chance to find you was over here."

"Oh." Peter feels kind of dumb, but he also feels glad you think of FEAST as a spot to find him. "I should've kept you safe."

"Don't. Don't make yourself crazy with what you could've done." You plead with him, and he sighs but shakes his head. "My arm will heal with time. I guess I landed on it weirdly and broke it."

Peter winces. "Well, you can always ask me for help if it bothers you. I'm there for you."

He traces your lip, where the cut under is still a red-brown, harsh hue in comparison to the pink of your bottom lip, and May takes this as her cue to leave.

Peter snorts. "I wish you had my-"

"Super healing? Yeah, I wish that too." You laugh. "Were you lucky enough to not get hit, or did you just heal on the way here?"

Peter's reaching for a facial bandage and some rubbing alcohol. "The latter."

"Ugh, lucky bastard." You smile up at him, cringing only slightly as Peter rubs away the blood from your wound. "I'm just glad that means I don't have to worry too much about you."

"You still do." Peter remarks, placing the bandage on your face. "But that just means you love me."

And, being ever so thankful that you're safely back in his arms, Peter places a soft kiss on your forehead, and then a slightly-less-soft one on your mouth, hoping it doesn't hurt you, but happy that you kiss him back anyways.

[heavenlymorals]

Dutch Van Der Linde: An Outdated Progressive

(Warning: This post contains period typical attitudes such as racism and sexism as well as spoilers for RDR2. This retrospective is also pretty damn long too.)

I love Dutch Van Der Linde. Honestly, he is one of my favorite characters ever and just the whole concept of his character and the philosophy of his character as well is something that just sticks with you.

He is charming, intelligent, cultured, charismatic, a right Messiah, and a right bastard all the same time.

But the thing that I believe people most remember about Dutch Van Der Linde is his romantic image. What I mean by this is the things he stood for and the things he wanted to change.

This makes Dutch have a positive image pretty quickly from the very start. In the first scene with him, he's encouraging people, rallying them up, and giving them hope in such an awful situation. He saves Sadie from a terrible fate and asks Hosea to send someone to bury her husband. Arthur and Charles talk fondly of him. He makes it clear in the train robbery that he despises the systems that keep men rich whilst most people starve.

Whether or not Dutch was always cracked, to the characters in the game, he was a great man because of his beliefs and because of his empathy/sympathy.

But what gets me is that a lot of people in this fandom misconstrue Dutch's character into being what we see today as a progressive. I see people saying things like "Bill shouldn't be racist, he's with Dutch's gang" or "why is Micah in the gang" and other similar things as to where people get confused as to why characters with immoral belief systems are respected and active heavy hitters in the gang.

This isn't saying that Dutch isn't progressive because he IS. For his time period, he was VERY progressive.

However, before I get into that, I want to establish some context in terms of the time period that we are talking about.

Theodore Roosevelt was the 26th president of the United States from 1901 to 1909. He once had dinner with African American leader Booker T. Washington. This one singular act of simply eating with one another as a white man and black man was so scandalous that it became an outrage to many politicians that the PRESIDENT, the literal face of America, was having dinner with a black American leader.

Teddy later put out this response: “The only wise and honorable and Christian thing to do is to treat each Black man and each white man strictly on his merits as a man, giving him no more and no less than he shows himself worthy to have."

A lot of people would take this event and try to say that Teddy Roosevelt was a progressive equivalent to our time when that is simply not true. Roosevelt was racist to many groups in his personal writings and he believed in the racial hierarchy, even though he had respect for any self made man.

Was Roosevelt a progressive? Yes. For his time, he was a progressive. He was pro union, anti monopoly, and created many government departments like the FDA. He also believed in the merits of a man. But the thing about historical progressives is that their standard of progression doesn't fit in with our criteria anymore.

Dutch is the same. Is he a progressive? Yeah, of course he is. But is he a true progressive in our standards? No. Not really.

This is why the gang allows racist gang members. That is also why the only repercussion to such racism is if the victim of it is willing to dish something out like Charles slamming Micah on the ground or Javier pulling a knife on Bill. It is also why the gang is pretty traditional and rigid in their gender roles. It's also why queer people (ie. Bill) are casually mocked within the gang too.

Another thing too- Dutch is a romantic. People misconstrue that with being a progressive when that really isn't the case. Romantacism is a philosophy that was a rejection of the realism of the Enlightment. It focused on Idealism. The thing with Romantacism, though, is that it was a super white-washed philosophy. It was made to mould into white cultures and belief systems specifically for white men. Dutch could say all men are equal and he may believe that, but it's clear that he doesn't see equality in the same way that we see equality today.

What I mean by this is that any man is equal but if told otherwise, that man is the one who has to prove them wrong. It's his business and he should be the one to deal with it. That's why other gang members don't back up Charles or Javier if they find themselves in a situation with another gang member who is racist. It's their responsibility to deal with their own beefs. It wouldn't be like today where we all publically shun racism.

Remember when Dutch, Arthur, and Micah come back from Sadie's cabin? Micah says something about not wanting to share a room with Bill and POC, to which Dutch can hear and doesn't say anything and Hosea only says "Get yourself to bed" instead of calling Micah on what he said. Same goes for Arthur too. He may condemn and do something about violent racism, like how when he helps the doctor in Rhodes get his wagon back, but he doesn't really say anything when Micah or Bill say racist things to Charles, Javier, or Lenny. That's their business, so to speak, and they should be the ones handling it.

Also note the poc's characters relationship with Dutch. Javier likes Dutch because of the revolutionary ideals that he believes in. Charles likes Dutch because he treats him fair. Lenny likes Dutch because Dutch is far more progressive than other white men, but he also calls out Dutch's romantic philosophy because it doesn't really include POC or their struggles. Dutch sympathizes with their struggles, but he cannot emphasize, which is the problem with his romantic philosophy. It's a culture that is a house to white people, but POC are only guests in it in terms of its European and American tradition. Yes, Dutch hates what the Europeans did to the natives, but given the context beforehand and the things he says, he hates less the violence and more the upheaval of the lifestyle that he wants, which is one that is connected to nature and earth. I also find it interesting how the only person Dutch kinda defends from racism is Lenny, the same boy who calls him out for reading too much into Miller and not into reality. It could very much be Dutch unconsciously trying to prove Lenny wrong.

And the thing with Dutch is that he isn't squeaky clean when it comes to racism either. He's racist too, but he's racist to groups that we don't see as marginalized anymore and this goes for Hosea as well. The biggest example of this is with Italians, who weren't considered white at the time, same with the Irish.

We have this conversation between him and Hosea:

"Have you ever met an Italian strongman before?"

"Not outside the circus."

I shouldn't have to explain that.

And there is also when Bronte set them up.

"That greasy son of a bitch, he set us up!"

It doesn't sound strange at first but context matters a lot. Though 'greaser' is a slur that we see thrown at Javier for being a Mexican multiple times in the gang, that slur was also used against Italians. So Dutch saying that is him still purposing that slur but in a different way.

Another thing that I noticed is that whenever Dutch wants to speak with someone who isn't white or wasn't deemed white at the time, he would dumb down or slow down his speech first before the person he's speaking to shows that they know English, in which then he talks normally. He doesn't automatically consider that hey, these are people who are intelligent and understand English.

Here are two examples:

This is Dutch to Bronte.

"Why do you take his son?"

"Excuse me?"

"I said why DID you take his son."

He fixes the way he talks as soon as he realizes that Bronte speaks english.

And then to Eagle Flies.

"How do you DO?" (In the game, he slows down his speech and emphasizes the do.)

"Not well, sir."

"I can see that."

This is such a subtle detail but it shows that even subconsciously, Dutch isn't as admirable as we sometimes like to make him out to be in terms of OUR time period and that we shouldn't be surprised when other gang members or Dutch himself do or say things that aren't cool.

And of course, there is the sexism of the gang and that Dutch is shown to be sexist multiple times in the game.

"There are two theories about arguing with women and neither of them work."

"Good Lord, a few more like her and we can take over the whole world." (This was a sarcastic dig at Sadie)

And given the rigidness of the gender roles in camp and that the girls are barely in any missions and are mostly just doing house work, Dutch supports this system because just like how political Romantacism wasn't really for POC, it wasn't really for women either.

He can also be religiously prejudiced as well, though this shows up only once in the game. When you get into Saint Denis, Dutch says this:

"Here we are in this strange land of Papists and rapists."

Papists is another word for Catholic and given how he connects them with rapists, it makes it quite clear that he doesn't like them all that much, which makes sense given that Dutch is some form of Protestant and the general disgust regarding Catholics at the time. There is also the fact that a lot of reasons why Italians, Irish, and Hispanic people dealt with discrimination is because of the Catholic background in many of their cultures.

Again, it's a small detail, but when you look at the time period he says that in, it opens up many doors to many other social issues that were there at the time and how Dutch, despite being better than many, is also still a man of his time and this idea that the gang is this beacon of prosperity and progression is generally overemphasized to something that it is not.

Again, I love Dutch's character and he was a progressive but it isn't surprising to see these negative equalities come out from him and from the gang as an extension. They all have their flaws, even if those flaws are especially jarring at points.

Historical people almost always have historical attitudes, guys. It's just the unfortunate truth.

In any case, this is already way too damn long and I hate proof reading so bye 😃

[foxglovepng]

Hello! Can I request for Soulmate AU of your choice for Leona, Idia, Floyd and Malleus? Thank you in advance!

Characters: Leona, Idia, Floyd, Malleus

CW: Leona & Idia being haters, Floyd is Floyd. Maybe OOC, Not proofread

A/N: Hello Anon! I am not too familiar with writing for soulmate AU so this will definitely be interesting. I decided to go with the red string one because It's the only one I sort of know.

A/N: I am so sorry if these are short I really do not write for soulmates at all.

If you liked Reblogs and Likes are appreciated <3

🌼🥀

Leona

Soulmate?? PSHHHHH Leona doesn't believe in soulmates. Or so he thought.

His brother met his soulmate and well we all know how that went. Leona had given up on soulmates in general since he could never find the said person.

Going to NRC he didn't think he'd meet them.

When he came across Yuu he saw their strings joined during the spelldrive incident. But that wasn't the topic of conversation that was for another day.

When they came across him again Yuu realized they were soulmates and their eyes gleamed. Leona was like Ugh an was constantly trying to fight it, he didn't really care, but Yuu of course kept pushing. He snapped at them one day and was like

"You're annoying I don't care that you're my soulmate." and then walked away.

Eventually Leona secretly began to miss Yuu's prescense but would never admit it out loud. One day he got fed up and went to go look for them. Some students were ganging up on them and he well scared them off.

"Be careful herbivore I'm not cleaning up your messes again." Liar he would.

At first he hated the soulmate thing, but he's not saying he likes it just doesn't mind it.

Floyd

He is a special case. He doesn't care enough, but he also does care. He's neutral to the soulmate thing, but if he ever did find his soulmate he'd be super stoked to meet them.

When Yuu came to Mostro Lounge to make the deal he found out Yuu was his soulmate then. However he was currently busy so he couldn't do anything about it although he's now super interested in Yuu.

After the whole ordeal he attaches himself to Yuu to learn everything about them, and just to get to hang out with them.

(Yuu literally has to force him to practice because he won't leave their side)

Eventually when they do start having a relationship he's even more loving and affectionate knowing he can kiss and cuddle his little shrimp as much as he wants.

Idia

He can barely handle a social interaction what make you think he will find his soulmate.

He's literally a shut in who is mainly on his computer either programming, doing school work, or gaming he'd not one for social situations.

The only way he found out Yuu was his soulmate was because he coincidentally went outside for club and he ran into Yuu and learned Yuu was his soulmate. Yuu figured it out too and he pulled out every excuse in the book to go back to the dorm.

Bro is not ready for the level 100 boss

Ever since then, he has tried to avoid Yuu. Emphasis on try as Yuu would probably be pushing as he is their soulmate.

Ortho at some point tells him he can't keep pushing away. He won't give up, but Ortho literally invites Yuu over forcing them to hang out.

It will take a while and some work before Idia can work up to the idea of a partner and a relationship, but he eventually does get there.

The second Yuu starts talking about marriage or a baby Idia would ramble about how he's not ready and tell Yuu to slow down.

Malleus

Poor boy has been lonely forever a soulmate would make him feel less lonely and he'd be happy that he has someone to be around. He's been excited to meet said soul mate. He'd been dreaming what they'd look like what kind of person they are what gender they are (Not that gender matters to him)

When he was outside ramshackle and Yuu came out he realized their strings connected. He was happy he found his soulmate and would be even happier if they felt the same way about him.

When he came back from Diasmonia that night he told Lilia he found his soulmate. Lilia was happy so was Silver. Sebek was like WHAT? but he will get over it. (Spoiler he ends up liking and tolerating Malleus's s/o)

Peep Malleus planning the wedding with Lilia as the officiant.

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters in the Hunger Games

As requested by @sweetteaanddragons :)

I haven't read or watched Hunger Games, but I've picked up enough through cultural osmosis...I hope. They're kids in an arena fighting to the death, right? And it's a media circus? And there are 12 districts? And they're poor? I think I got it! Anyway, let's stick Cosmere characters in that arena and see how they do!

By the way, for the most part I'm imagining these characters in their own separate hunger games, not all together, just because I didn't want to imagine all of my blorbos killing each other.

1. Kaladin

After a kid who looks just like Tien literally dies in Kaladin's arms (note: all of the kids look exactly like Tien so far as Kaladin is concerned), Kaladin realizes that the Hunger Games are about kids dying, not about kids surviving. He decides that he has to save everyone, and quickly builds a coalition with the other tributes. They all die anyway and Kaladin wins.

He's not happy about it.

2. Shallan

Sadly, Shallan dies while trying unsuccessfully to convince a stick to become fire. Technically, I think this means the stick wins, but they give the award to some kid instead, for some reason.

3. Adolin

Adolin was doing really well until FOUR other tributes all decided to gang up on him. Even then, he fought like an uncaged tiger and very nearly survived. Nearly. (Hey, uh, most characters die in Hunger Games, right?)

4. Vin

Vin slices through the competition like a vengeful god. Emphasis on vengeful. And god. She barely even lets herself get distracted by the weird love triangle between that guy who wants to make the world better and the one who wants to burn it all down. She's too busy, like, killing everyone.

5. Zane

Zane thinks it's pretty swell to be in this killing arena killing people. What isn't swell is that Vin isn't into him, even AFTER their romantic killing spree. What gives? Anyway. Vin kills him.

6. Elend

Elend has a lot of thoughts about the sociological implications of the games. He does not have a lot of thoughts about how to sharpen a stick into a crude spear and ram it through someone's chest. (Is that what happens in the Hunger Games?) Regardless, I don't think he makes it long... Sorry, Elend.

7. Spook

Spook is a wraith. No one ever sees him coming. Or sees him at all. He keeps receiving supplies and weapons from a mysterious benefactor. At one point he starts wearing a handkerchief over his eyes and killing people by sound alone. I don't really see him winning, tbh (sorry Spook), but he is definitely a crowd favorite who makes it super far.

8. Szeth

"To kill innocent children for the amusement of distant viewers blackens my soul with a stain that shall never be removed. Oh, how I hate this. Oh, how I hate this senseless, senseless killing," Szeth thinks to himself as he constructs an unnecessarily elaborate death trap that kills his opponents horribly. "No one suffers like me," Szeth thinks, over all of the screaming.

9. Renarin

Hey remember when Renarin killed a Thunderclast mostly off-screen? Plus he has future sight. If they've got their powers in this game, then Radiant Renarin is probably taking it all. If not, well...let's not go there.

10. Vivenna

After her sister is sent as a tribute in Vivenna's place, Vivenna enters the Hunger Games anyway, determined to somehow put a stop to them. For example, she takes all the food she can find and hides it in one place so that it will be safe for everyone. She figures out how to predict supply drops to ensure that she always gets to them first. While convinced that she is the Hunger Games Breaker, she is actually the season's most notorious villain and eventually everyone bands together to kill her. Sorry, Vivenna.

11. Kelsier

Kelsier wins the hearts of viewers everywhere, mostly due to his determination to keep smiling no matter what horrors he must survive. He's, like, really good at killing people also. The Survivor, people call him. But when he is shockingly cut down and killed, his death galvanizes a rebellion against, uh, President Snow? Is that the big bad? Anyway. There's a religion about him now.

12. Ann

Oh, Ann. So excited to shoot guns. (Do they have guns?) So excited to shoot bows and arrows maybe. But she can't shoot worth a damn. She has a splendid time and hits no one. And, well, she does not win.

13. Cord

Frankly, Cord wants to win and bring glory and money (?) back home to her people, who desperately need it. I'm assuming the districts get stuff if their person wins. Cord is in it to win it. And she's awfully good with that bow and arrow...

14. Lift

Man, I don't want Lift to be in the Hunger Games! Lift thinks killing is lazy and boring! Sure, she'd be great at hiding in trees and getting food, but I definitely do not see Lift actually being able to kill anyone. Is that allowed? Will she be disqualified?

15. Tress

Tress looks at the Death Arena Whose Purpose Is Death and says, "But is anyone gonna Make Friends about it" and doesn't wait for an answer. Somehow, by the end, basically everyone IS friends. Except for that one person who really did want to kill. But she and Tress went off together and only Tress returned. So.

Basically, Tress's influence ruins the Hunger Games that year. Nobody wants the Friendship Games.

[kydrogendragon]

"I simply said I believed he was lonely. And that was the reason for the games he had played with me back in Port Townsend," Edwin says, sitting with one leg resting on the knee of his other.

It's late in the New Inn and Hob just finished cleaning up the lobby. The Dead Boy Detective group—or as Hob joked, the Scooby Gang—have taken up a near permanent residence here now, given that Hob doesn't mind their presence and lets Crystal stay with them rent-free. In return, she helps out with designing the chalkboard ads he keeps outside the inn.

"And how'd his royal highness take that?" Charles laughs.

"Quite well, actually," Edwin replies. "I do believe we parted on good terms, given everything that happened. He gifted me that lily and parted amicably."

"Huh, weird. Figured he'd be the kind to get grumpy about being called lonely," Crystal says, circling the rim of the glass in front of her with her finger.

"Oooh, maybe he really is lonely and by you saying that, and him giving you that flower, that was his shy way of agreeing with you and wishing you would stay so he could be un-lonely!" Niko chimes.

"You do remember him, right? Same Cat King? That man does nothing shyly. Man? Cat? Whatever." Crystal says.

"Well, I think it's romantic," Niko replies. She whips her head back to Edwin, clapping her hands together. "You should have said you were lonely too, Edwin! Then it would have been the perfect moment to lean in for a kiss cause you both could be lonely together!"

Edwin clears his throat. "Well. I did, perhaps, say something along those lines, but I assure you there was no kissing nor being 'lonely together'."

"Yo Gad-man? Everything alright there? You look like you've seen a ghost," Charles says with a smirk. Hob realizes, in that moment, he's stopped stacking chairs half-way. His mind, lost both in the kid's conversation but also playing his meeting from 1889 on loop.

It's not often, he imagines, that one calls a supernatural being lonely, with the intent of telling them you're lonely as well, but clearly it went much better for Edwin than it had Hob. He's trying not to feel jealous over it. It's an irrational emotion. And it was clearly a different situation to him and Dream.

But still.

He shakes his head and stacks the chair back on the table, where it should have been minutes ago. "Fine, fine! Just running low on steam. Long week."

The kids shrug and return to their conversation, drifting away from the Cat King and onto their latest mystery. Hob retreats to the back and sighs. He never did get to explain himself properly to Dream, who also happens to be a king. What is with this weird amount of similarities? Maybe that's just guaranteed to happen if you live so long. Regardless, they never did talk much of that meeting. Or much of before, honestly. Hob wonders if Dream even knew what he had been trying to say back then. It certainly wasn't to accuse him of being lonely or to somehow gloat that Hob wasn't. Because he was. He was lonely, too.

Now, unlike Edwin's story, he'd have loved if his conversation had ended with that kiss like Niko said. Course that would never happen but he would have taken a smile. Or parting amicably. Literally anything else than storming out into the rain.

Hob rests his head against the cool metal of the fridge and sighs. Maybe one day he can try and redo that day with Dream, though he'll probably make the man swear he won't storm out again first.

[bbina]

picture perfect confessions ── p. wonbin

synopsis: in which after a painful series of unfortunate events, wonbin decides the right time to confess is when you are caught off guard genre: fluff, fluff and FLUFF warnings: wonbin being a pussy its almost intolerable, anton being a little shit, literally based off riize-wonderland word count: 5.2k... i did not expect this at all notes: i literally got carried away what the fuck

the long awaited trip to an amusement park planned by seunghan has commenced. the gang is all here to celebrate a long exhausting week of work and the such

"i haven't been in an amusement park for so long!" seunghan cheers as you all enter the gates of everland. twirling around to show his excitement

you laugh at his enthusiasm as sohee joins him and spins around

"hush children, let's calm ourselves" eunseok walks over to the youngsters in attempt to calm their excitement to which of course they boo and call him an old man for his lack of enthusiasm (earning a small smack from the older male in retaliation)

"soo.." you start, catching everyone's attention. "what's the plan?"

everyone gathers in a circle to discuss what everyone wants to ride first, taking all suggestions into consideration. seunghan, being the head planner of it all, firsts suggests that everyone goes to T-express which was a big rollercoaster as a little wakeup call for everyone

sungchan then suggests you guys should play carnival games first to "check gambling off the list first" so you guys could properly get rid off the feeling to waste some extra cash

but shotaro claims that carnival games should be played in between rides to keep the adrenaline going

you were just laughing along when you noticed wonbin a little quiet than usual. he usually was a big talker but for once, he was quiet. maybe a little too quiet for your liking

"you okay there, bin?" you ask, walking over to him to put your hand on his seemingly tensed shoulders.

wonbin freezes for a second before relaxing. he smiles sheepishly as he waves you off

"yeah. it's just its been a long time since i visited here" he says, a bread smile on his face as he attempts to hide his nervousness from hearing all the suggestions from the group

"well is there anything you want to do first?" you gestured to the the guys who were busy trying to one-up each other on what to do first

wonbin simply shakes his head no and keeps to himself

'weird' you thought to yourself but you simply brush it away. he was probably a little tired from the long subway ride which was totally normal

you go back to the circle who looked like they were drawing lots as a fair way of deciding.

"what are we deciding on?" you seamlessly jump into their conversation. seunghan wraps an arm around your shoulder and suddenly yells that you were gonna be the tie breaker between T-EXPRESS and DOUBLE ROCK SPIN

wonbin could feel his eyes pop out of their sockets hearing the two extreme ride suggestions but he wasn't just gonna admit that out loud. he was a pussy but he's not just gonna show that to everyone (mostly to you because the guys know damn well what a scaredy-cat he was)

"oh shit that's a tough decision" you can feel the adrenaline rush through your veins. the six guys look at you with excitement in their eyes. you can tell they were excited as you were

"T-EXPRESS all the way baby!" you cheer, jumping with your hands up in the air. everyone also cheers with your decision. "then we should do DOUBLE ROCK right after!" you continue, furthering the excitement of everyone. everyone minus wonbin who just felt like his soul is leaving his body

how was he gonna get out of this now?

you all rush to the line of T-EXPRESS but thanks to anton little treat of treating everyone to express passes, you lot were the first people in line.

as the rest of the guys were lining up, eager to get stamped on to get onto the ride, you see wonbin who seems to be kicking rocks by your peripheral vision

"binnie, you're not going?" you ask, voice laced with concern. again, he sheepishly shakes his head no

"i'm feeling a little nauseous from the subway ride from earlier. you guys can go ahead while i wait here" he says, straight up lying through his teeth.

you frown at this, expecting everyone to be hyped to ride the rollercoaster.

eunseok senses the weird atmosphere and reads wonbin like an open book. he laughs to himself seeing wonbin plead with his eyes to save his ass for now

"he probably slept for an hour again, y/n. don't worry he'll ride with us as soon as he gets over his motion sickness" eunseok asserts the situation. winking at wonbin who sighs in relief. he was gonna thank eunseok after the ride ends

wonbin does the same bread smile he did earlier and mumbles a little "sorry y/n"

you pout but let it go regardless. "okay, i understand. but could you hold my stuff for me please?" you say, giving him your purse. "i have some anti-nausea meds in my little emergency pouch inside. you can have some" you instruct wonbin who just nods and scurries you away since it was your turn to get stamped

"enjoy" you hear him say making you smile. you give him a thumbs up as you catch up with the rest of the group, leaving wonbin behind

"where's wonbin hyung?" you hear sohee ask, looking for wonbin among the sea of people. you sigh and explain that he feels a nauseous and opted to sit this ride out

at the mention of his "nausea" anton's ears perk up and giggles.

"ah wonbin's just sca–" anton gets interrupted by shotaro by clearing his throat. a little signal that you were in ear shot. he wasn't just gonna let bro be done dirty

you look at the two of them all confused. wonbin was what?

"y/n sit by me!" sohee exclaims, already claiming a seat at the cart he chose which was in the middle. to which you happily oblige. the seating arrangement was seunghan and sungchan, followed by you and sohee then shotaro and anton and finally eunseok who got to seat with a random stranger

and the ride starts briefly after

wonbin on the other hand, was waiting by the exit. your purse hanging off his shoulder as he watches the rollercoaster start to move up.

he grimaces at the thought of being on there in the first place but that thought is quickly overthrown by the thought of sitting next to you

how he wishes he wasn't such a scaredy-cat that he gets to experience something like this with you. not that he'd ever admit that though. he'd rather live through hell than to admit to his little crush he has on you (that of which the group knows about and teases him non stop)

but wonbin being wonbin, he takes the liberty of fishing your phone out of your purse and takes some aesthetic shots of the tall rollercoaster and the pretty sky blue sky. not forgetting to snap a couple of selfies of himself of course

he starts to hear the people on the ride screaming happily of joy as the rollercoaster goes on about its obstacles. he shudders at the mere thought of just being there.

after what seems like forever, the ride ends and the seven of you all walk out all jumbled up from the wind blowing everything out.

"holy fucking shit, holy fucking shit" shotaro chants, jumping up and down like a child

"you should've seen the look on eunseok's face. he was still like a stone" you double over laughing. remembering the look on eunseok's face just all straight and nonchalant

wonbin smiles at the sight of you enjoying yourself. his worries all washed away just by seeing you smile and happy

that is until, you announce that it was time to go to DOUBLE ROCK

wonbin has like 5 minutes to rack up another excuse on why he can't ride that. he was so engrossed with the thought of coming up with a plausible excuse that he didn't even hear you calling his name

"wonbin" you called, shaking his shoulder as he just stares at the ground with a blank face.

he instantly snaps back to reality a little "huh?" coming out of his lips

the rest of the guys all laugh seeing this interaction. how can he be so obvious and how can you be so oblivious

"i said sit next to me on DOUBLE ROCK" you beamed, linking your elbows together as you all walk to the next ride

wonbin can only gulp and pray to all the gods that are watching over him that he can find a way to excuse himself out of this little entanglement

by the time you get to DOUBLE ROCK, the operating manager announces that they need 7 people left before the ride starts

hearing this, wonbin can smile in complete bliss that he found a way to opt himself out of a ride.. again

"you guys can go on without me" he says abruptly, catching you by surprise.

"again? but you didn't ride with us on the first ride" you tried to reason, all you wanted to do today was enjoy the time with all your closest friends but how could you enjoy if one is left behind?

before wonbin could reply, the operating manager makes his final call for 7 people or else he was gonna find other people who are willing to fill those spots in

"i swear it's okay. i'm fine with being out here again. i'll make it up to you guys. scouts honor" wonbin reasons, looking at your face for a reaction.

the rest of the group all look at the wonbin skeptically as you begin to frown and huff

you simply sigh and leave wonbin behind as you tell the operation manager yourself that the 7 of you will take the seats. leaving wonbin behind all dumbfounded with your cold reaction

"oof that's gotta sting" sohee blurts out with you out of earshot earning a little smack again but this time by sungchan.

"sohee!" he scolds as he looks at wonbin with a worried expression.

all wonbin can do is just stand there all wide eyed with what just happened.

"how do i know if i just ruined my chances" wonbin says feeling dejected, totally not expecting that from you

shotaro, being the eldest and being the closest with wonbin daps him up and encourages him that he still hasn't technically ruined his chances with you

"i'm saying this now for good measure but you haven't ruined anything yet but if y/n is literally giving you the opportunity of your lifetime to be with her.. take it" shotaro advices, rubbing wonbin's back in attempt to cheer him up

wonbin can only wince at his advice and ushers him to get onto the ride since you guys were all waiting for him. he catches anton mouthing "man up" before the operators buckle everyone onto the ride

wonbin finds himself again alone by the exit waiting for everyone to finish. he's lowkey beating himself up for being such a pussy.

"god why am i so stupid" he cringes as the memory of you literally going past him like he was just a spectacle of dust replays in his head like a broken record

at the same time, he looks up to see where you guys were at and the ride was literally going in circles. just watching the machine go around and around is making his insides hurl

all he wants is to not embarrass himself in front of you

wonbin hears the machine go quiet indicating the ride was over and watches the crowd make their way to the exit. he waits patiently for the rest of you guys to come out

without another word, you silently grab onto the strap of your bag and sling it off his shoulder and carrying it yourself. walking ahead of the group to find the nearest food stall, completely ignoring wonbin

seunghan and sohee can only make "oooh" sounds as they watch wonbin walk miserably beside them

"couple fight.." anton comments, making eunseok and shotaro laugh.

"shut it" wonbin hisses, eyes following your frame. you had a straight face on which was a solid indicator (at least to wonbin) that you weren't in the mood to talk

seunghan then slips his arm over wonbin's shoulder, giving him a little side hug as his way of being encouraging to his friend. "it's not the end of the world yet, hyung" he says

"with the way you're saying, it probably is!" wonbin sasses, side-eyeing seunghan who just laughs loudly

"did she say anything though?" wonbin hushes, his mood turning a whole 180

sungchan who was listening the entire time butts in the conversation. "nothing. just grumbling on why you're such a killjoy" he jokes, making wonbin even feel worse than he already was

"am not!" wonbin tries to defend himself but he just looks like a sore loser. in retrospect, he kinda was a killjoy and he hated how he just ruined your good mood

after riding two extreme adrenaline filled rides, everyone was obviously hungry for some snacking. you all find yourselves in front of a food stall that sells corn dogs and churros.

you're sat next to eunseok and anton with wonbin in front of you who looks like a puppy who just got kicked. everyone eating silently with the occasional "can you pass me some ketchup?"

wonbin simply munches on his hotdog as he waits for you to talk to him. he honestly looks so miserable that it's killing everyone

anton who finds all of this hilarious has a little idea in mind.

"y/n, do you wanna share this churro with me? i'm kinda full" anton offers oh so innocently, handing you his barely eaten churro.

wonbin raises his eyebrow at this. what the fuck was anton doing

he doesn't miss the mischievous glint in anton's eyes as he smirks in front of wonbin

like a pawn being drawn in. you of course cheerily say yes and take the said churro from anton.

"thanks tony. you're so sweet!" you chirp, happily munching on the churro.

wonbin just felt like he got shot. how dare anton do this to him. how dare anton tease him like that.

"jesus christ.." eunseok mutters, face palming at the whole ordeal

something in wonbin just snapped. he wasn't gonna take this shit much longer (he can't take this shit anymore)

"who wants another corndog? on me" wonbin proposes, in attempt to win you over anton and his half eaten churro.

and like a pack of wild hyenas who just preyed on some innocent animal, the group all raises their hands. all except you

"me wonbin hyung!"

"two corndogs and a churro please hyung"

"me! i'll accompany you"

"was waiting for someone to buy another one finally"

the group all talk over themselves but wonbin is fixated on you and your request (if you even had any)

hearing no response from you, wonbin decides to call your name

"what about you y/n? want anything?" he asks, hopeful you'll talk to him

but to his dismay, you simply shake your head no and motioned to churro anton gave you in hand.

wonbin just felt the remaining pride he had in himself dissolve into thin air. he just wants to air everyone in the area out to get himself out of this painfully awkward situation

"oh.. uh... okay..!" wonbin stammers, getting up from the bench and going to the stall to order the food his friends all asked to get. the worker eyes him weirdly as he shakily hands in his card to pay for the food. this day cannot get any worse than this

after he pays, he calls out for someone to get the food back to the table. sohee, sungchan and shotaro offer to help while the rest stay at the table with you

"what's up with him today?" you ask outloud, not caring who hears your question.

seunghan and anton could only laugh at your question. you make a confused sound at their reaction. what was so funny?

"just wonbin being wonbin" eunseok remarks

"that doesn't answer my question" you retaliate. not liking the feeling of the uncertainty of eunseok's answer

"i'll answer that! wonbin hyung–"

before anton can even finish, wonbin slams the tray of food at the table, startling you and anton in the process

"we're back! here's the food. enjoy." wonbin sounds like he was gritting his teeth as he glares at anton who was obviously enjoying every single moment

not up for this weird shit much longer, you shrug and drop the subject as you wait for the boys to finish up eating

after having a hearty meal, you all walk around the amusement park to let the food digest as you decide which ride to go to next.

you all pass by some little carnival games and decide to splurge a little. even having a competition on who could get you a stuffed animal from the prizes

but of course being the little losers (your losers at that) that they were. they didn't win you any big flashy prizes. it was wonbin who won you a little keychain as one of the consolation prizes

"here" wonbin says, attaching the keychain he won with his hard work on your bag. he smiles as the keychain makes a little bell sound as it jingles around.

still feeling a little upset at him for being such a killjoy and sitting out on two rides, you only give him a half-assed smile. "thanks"

you don't miss the frown that flashed on his face for a second before he walks over to sungchan to argue about something.

now you were beginning to feel a little bad for your attitude. he did say he was feeling nauseous earlier but in your defense, you just wanted to spend the day with him by your side

you were about to apologize til shotaro says he sees a haunted house up ahead and he wanted to go which excites the group as they were feeling a little bored and wanted to go on another ride

wonbin gulps and feels a little lightheaded when he stares at the haunted house ride right in front of him. now that you were all rested and ready to go on another ride, he can no longer excuse reason out on why he can't go in since all you had to do was walk through the maze

sungchan being the matchmaker he was, proposes an idea that everyone takes turns in pairs to go insde so you guys wouldn't cause much ruckus as you were fairly a large group. he quickly groups people into two. shotaro and eunseok being the eldest, him and seunghan, and of course the youngest consisting of sohee and anton

which leaves you and wonbin left to be the pair

"dude you're a genius!" seunghan pats his back, sensing the little plan sungchan had in mind

you reluctantly go up to wonbin, already expecting that he was gonna tell you that he wanted to sit this one out.

"gonna sit this one out too?" you raise a brow at wonbin, ready to hear his excuse for this one. you watch him open his mouth and you were ready to hear the words "you guys can go" but instead you were met with,

"nope. i'm joining you guys this one" wonbin declares, putting on a brave a face hearing gasps from everyone, but you. he instantly feels a little better seeing how your face lights up

"finally! i was literally gonna call you a killjoy this time if you were gonna sit this one out" you gushed, feeling excited that wonbin was finally gonna join in the fun.

with the way you said that to wonbin, he feels like he got punched in the gut but quickly dismisses the feeling. he looks around to see the knowing grins and smirks from his friends

he turns to sungchan and mouths, "i owe you big time" to which of course sungchan gives him a thumbs up. sungchan can be nice sometimes and those times are now

you guys draw lots again to see who goes first and goes last and of course you and wonbin had to go last. not that you minded, its the thought of finally enjoying a ride with wonbin that counts.

the youngests go first and you can hear anton's screams of despair inside, causing all of you who were outside to crack up. after the youngests go, it was sungchan and seunghan then followed by shotaro and eunseok and finally it was you guys' turn

"you ready?" you ask wonbin behind you who was as pale as a ghost.

"y-yeah. ready as i'll ever be" he breathes out, his heart beating faster than ever.

the guys all wish you a good luck with a little comments on how the ride is oh so scary that wonbin might carry you outside (they mean the other way around)

and thus you two enter the horror house.

not even fully inside the house, wonbin starts screaming as some air blows on his face.

"wonbin!" you laughed, totally not expecting this from him and his cool guy image he always had.

"what? oh the scream? i was just scaring the ghosts away" he says shamelessly, attempting to cover up the fact that he was 100% scared shitless right now

you guys carry on further and further into the house. you try to block out wonbin's little outbursts sometimes when the people working inside were scaring you guys

when you reached the hallway where it leads to the makeshift morgue, a scary thing pop outs and literally scares wonbin. so much that in reflex, he reaches out for you and hugs you tightly

by then you feel him shaking. you look up at him to see his eyes closed tight. you almost wanted to laugh but with the way he was quite literally trembling, you can't help but feel worried for him.

"it's okay bin. it's not real" you try to reassure him but he can only whimper in response

you took it upon yourself to guide the two of you out of this horror house.

luckily for you guys the morgue seems to be the last obstacle left inside the ride so you wrap your arms around wonbin as you guide him to the end of the line.

the boys outside were busy chitchatting on the state of wonbin inside knowing damn well what was bound to happen

"do you think he's okay in there?" sohee ponders outloud, imagining the different outcomes.

"ehh so and so" anton comments, giggling to himself

"how much are we betting that y/n is the one wearing the pants and holding him" seunghan proposes to the group, stifling in his laughter

"double it and give it to the next person" shotaro adds, making the group laugh

"i think he can manage" sungchan adds, "his pride is literally on the line"

"guys they're done" eunseok says, seeing you waving your hand with wonbin in your arms

what finally feels like forever, you find yourself out of the horror house with wonbin still holding onto you for dear life.

"bin, we're out. you can open your eyes now" you say softly as you pat his head. wonbin takes a peak and lo and behold. you two were out of that hell hole! barely even noticing your arms wrapped around him

"wonbin hyung.. i thought you were better than this" was the first thing he hears and of course it had to be from anton. wonbin fully opens his eyes and starts to register everything

you were holding him

you had your arms wrapped around him.

you, y/n, his crush, is holding him, park wonbin.

wonbin short circuits as he jumps from your touch. "woah! careful there" you say, catching his arm as he steadies himself. he can't believe that you caught him lacking. the mere fact that you had to hold him til you were out of the house sends him over the edge. he just wants a hole to swallow him whole

you watch as wonbin turn red. you could only laugh to yourself while thinking how cute he was. you never wanted to take care of him more than now

without another word (aside from the boys' teasing wonbin for being such a pussy) you all were on your way to the gift shop as the day is about to end

everyone was busy looking at all the souvenirs they wanted to buy. you were by the stuffed animals section when you feel someone next to you.

it was wonbin

you smile at him as you continue to touch the toys in front of you.

"ooh this one is so soft and cute" you comment, hugging a big black cat plush. you take a good at it before showing it to wonbin.

"it kinda looks like you" you giggle, eyeing both wonbin and the cat plush. wonbin takes a quick look at the plush and copies the face making you laugh

"do you want it? i can buy it for you" wonbin says, checking the price tag by its tail. his eyes widened at the price which was ₩20,000. seeing his reaction you shake your head no

"no, it's probably a little expensive and i can order one online" you say, putting the plush back to the shelf you got it from

wonbin mentally facepalms with the way he reacted. he shakes his head and gives himself a pep talk about money will always go back but shit like this doesn't

"no it's fine ! if you want it i can buy it for you" he reasons, grabbing the plush again to show it to you. even making it dance

you honestly didn't want wonbin spending a lot on you and you hate the feeling of owing someone something but the plush was too cute and who knows when you'll be back here in everland with wonbin again?

"i'll let you buy me that if you let me buy you something too!" you propose to which wonbin agrees with.

you two wander around the gift shop til he decides what he he wanted to get. in the end he wanted to match headbands with you. wonbin chose a bunny headband and with that you two go to the counter and pay

the rest of the guys sees this and whistles at your matching headbands and the big plush wonbin was carrying.

"hey why are you two the only ones matching?" sungchan asks, knowing damn well why you two were matching.

"bunny headbands are taken go look for something else" wonbin counters making you laugh.

"dude chill" seunghan has his hands up in defense making the rest of the group laugh.

"yeah. that's what i thought" wonbin sasses, nudging your shoulders and grins at you

the guys carry on and buys their own headbands before heading out of the giftshop

"wait can we go to that photobooth?" you suggest, seeing a big 'life4cuts' sign. the guys chorus "of course!" before you guys rush over to the empty photobooth (after paying of course)

you guys take lots of pictures before printing them out. it was 4 pics in one and you thought it was the cutest thing ever.

the group was about to move on to the last agendas inside the park before wonbin pulls you aside.

"do you.. perhaps... wanna take another photobooth picture again.. but just the two of us....?" wonbin asks, hesitating a bit as he thinks of 299792 ways this could go. you could reject him, you could call the guys again, you could–

"i would love to" you smile, feeling a little blush creeping up your cheeks.

"i'm gonna go to the bathroom for a bit. you guys can go ahead!" you yell over to the boys who had no idea you and wonbin weren't walking behind them

with that out of the way, you and wonbin sneakily go back to life4cuts to take your pictures

"so how do you want our pics to go?" you ask as you input your money while deciding on what frame you should use

"we can do a normal pic then we can do whatever for the rest?" wonbin notes, mentally preparing himself for what he was gonna do. he was gonna confess his feelings to you

you hum in response, liking the idea. you opted for the default white film strip option so you could place it on the back of your phone case.

while waiting for the machine to process your money, wonbin speaks up

"i'm sorry for being such a pussy today" wonbin apologizes. "i know i ruined your mood earlier and i feel really bad i'm just scared of the rides and i didn't want you to see that so i'm sorry"

you turn around to see him pouting. how can you ever be mad at him?

"i realized that along the way and i'm sorry too.. for ignoring you earlier. i should've known better." you also apologize which causes wonbin to panic

if anything it was him who feels the need to say sorry. he can never be upset at you too

"then we're both sorry then" he jokes, "turn that frown upside down" he says with his infamous satoori accent and pokes your cheeks making you smile and blush

"you're so cheesy, wonbin" you laugh, hiding your blush from him

wonbin suddenly feels like its hot as fuck at the moment. especially with the close proximity. this feels intimate, maybe too intimate.

the machine dings and a timer pop up at the screen meaning the photos were about to be taken.

"it's starting!" you say all excitedly as you lean closer to wonbin to take the first picture.

"say cheese!"

the camera flashes and captures the first photo. looking good so far. now it was time to take a wacky picture.

you both watch the machine in front of you for the timer to pop up but it seemed like it was lagging. wonbin takes this as an opportunity to finally confess

"i have something to tell you"

you hum, waiting for what he was gonna say

you look up at him since he suddenly turned quiet. you see him looking down at you with the softest gaze you've ever seen.

"i like you"

and you hear the camera click. that was the second picture.

"i've been waiting for you to say that" you breathed as you jump to hug him. just in time for the third picture to be taken.

"what?" wonbin says in complete utter shock. you like him too?

"yes wonbin. i like you too" you professed, pulling back a bit to look at his shocked face.

wonbin hears the timer ticking and asks, "can i kiss you?"

you smile widely and nod your head yes, without wasting another second wonbin crashes his lips against yours just as the camera flashes. taking the fourth and final picture.

he pulls away just in time for the photos to print out. both faces beet red and breathing heavily. too stunned to say anything

let's just say you two walk out of that photobooth with hands intertwined with a matching photostrip at the back of your phones.

bonus:

"what's taking them this damn long" eunseok taps his foot impatiently. they were just outside the carousel ride, waiting for the two of you to come back from the bathroom

"did wonbin hyung take a post fear clarity shit" anton wonders, earning a hefty laugh from sohee who found the way he said 'shit' so hilarious

"maybe they got lost– oh my god ARE THEY HOLDING HANDS?!" seunghan spots you and wonbin walking towards them hand in hand with the biggest smiles on your faces

you skip towards the 6 guys waiting with wonbin behind you.

"sorry we took a while. we got lost along the way" you try to lie but the smile on your face says it all. they also don't miss the little photo strip on the back of wonbin's case

"i'm taking this as a sign that wonbin finally manned up" shotaro teases seeing that you two were now holding hands

"it was picture perfect!" you expressed, showing off your phone case that had the pictures of you and wonbin. the boys all gasp and made gagging sounds when they see the picture of you and wonbin kissing.

"i'm expecting a big meal after this" sungchan rubs his tummy to which wonbin rolls his eyes and mutters a string of "yeah yeah i know now all of you shut up!"

"we didn't even say anything!"

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six

TW: violence, choking, mentions of bdsm, abuse of authority, cops, unfair power dynamics, harassment, body fluids and drug use mentions, mentions of harm/accidents

For California, it’s a bit chilly out this morning. The sun is getting a lazy late start, just beginning to yawn golden orange and fiery yellow over the horizon. Julian’s hair in that light is the high shine of fashion magazine model locs, and you’re, as usual, opening your mouth before you think. “What shampoo and conditioner do you use?”

He seems thoroughly amused. “Honestly? You’re going to be mad about it.” 

“Try me,” you prod, slipping inside his little sports car that smells like lemon air freshener and coffee. 

He seems a little cramped in the seat, knees bent up and head almost touching the ceiling, and you wonder if he actually even tried to get into this thing before buying it. 

“It’s a rental,” he explains.

“Did you get into an accident?”

“A truck hit mine while it was parked.” 

“How are you so calm about that? I’d punch someone.” 

He looks over at you with a sculpted, raised brow. “I just cannot imagine you hurting a fly, y/n.” 

“Flies are innocent, truck drivers are free game.” 

He gives you a big laugh that strokes the flame of your ego. “You’re hilarious. I use men’s body wash.” 

“What?” Okay, he’s right, you are a little mad. You use shampoo and conditioner that are specifically supposed to soften your hair, but the poof on your head absolutely pales in comparison to his soft, beautiful mane that gets the luxury of … what? Old spice? Axe body wash? 

“I told you,” he sings, turning on the engine. 

Genetics is a bitch. 

He takes you to a fancy little French inspired coffee shop cuddled into the center of an outlet mall with salt lamps and big ferns and comfy chairs. You settle into a nook closests to the sunned windows so Julian can keep an eye on his rental, which is understandable. No part of LA is good to have a Porsche in, but especially not the inner city. 

“This is delicious,” you tell him through a mouthful of warm croissant, covering your lips in embarrassment when you realize that your table manners are less than adequately prepared for a date with a doctor. 

“They have the best coffee,” he agrees, taking a sip of his steaming latte. 

You don’t have time to stop your brain from comparing Julian to a certain cop you know who prefers his coffee black and bitter, or at least that’s what he told you when he saw you drinking your vanilla cream cold foam at the nurse’s station. 

Julian is talking, you think, and you’re only half listening while you remember how Tom had snatched that drink right out of your hands and held it up in the air. 

“Give it back!” You hissed, reaching up on tiptoes while he laughed at the pathetic rescue attempt. 

“Careful, honey, don’t hurt yourself for this pathetic excuse of caffeine. What is it anyway? Is there even coffee in here?” 

After he walked away with his discharge paperwork, your coworkers were understandably curious about the tall, puckish cop who fucked with you any chance he got. 

Miguel watched his ass move the whole way down the hallway and out the glass exit doors while literally clutching the rosary under his scrub shirt as if a devil had just walked by, then looked over at you. “What a man.”

“Are you alright?” Julian asks, bringing you back to the present conversation with a hand over your forearm. He does seem concerned, and it makes you feel like a piece of shit. This guy is a gentleman and here you are on a date with him fantasizing about the brute that is Tom Ludlow. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You wave away his concern. “Tell me about you, Julian. What do you do for fun? Doctor-by-night, Violin-player-by-morning? 

He chuckles. “Nothing that cultured. I like riding motorcycles.”

“Really?” You ask, genuinely surprised and trying to imagine Julian in a gang of bikers with cracked leather skull and snake jackets. 

“I love them.” He nods. “I have three that I take for long rides along the coast. You get lost in it, the wind and salt and sand. The rumble of the engine under you.”

“I’ve never been on one,” you tell him, “and I’m honestly surprised you ride them after what we see in the ER. Don’t you remember that guy that had his calf hanging on by a tendon? Or that woman who had half her face missing?” 

“Yes, I do. But I go the speed limit and wear the proper gear. And I like the thrill.” 

It’s not just the casual t-shirt and worn jeans or the way the light halos his thick silk nest of hair or the roguish grin that makes you see Julian in an entirely new way, now. “You’re wild, Dr. Mercer.”

He licks spilled cream at the ridge of his coffee cup, rubs at the skin of your forearm with his fingers, and winks. You wonder what he would look like between your legs doing the same thing, except with your fingers gripping that luscious hair. 

“You should let me take you for a ride, sometime,” he suggests, and for a minute you forget you’re talking about motorcycles. 

“Oh, I don’t know, Julian.”

“C’mon.” He nudges your knee under the table and relaxes back into his seat, now reminding you too much of someone else you know. Same height, same hair color, same facial structure. 

Fuck. Really? 

“Good boyfriends take their girlfriends on long, romantic motorcycle rides.” 

“But you’re not my boyfriend.”

His smile droops a little bit and it makes you feel bad for being so illiterately ignorant. Well, you feel bad until he opens his mouth. “I am, though.”

He paints it playful, but it sounds a little bit pushy-bossy, even. “I don’t know about that, either, Julian.”

He tries a different angle. “You know, believe it or not, most women would consider me quite the catch.” 

You hope your face doesn’t betray the little bit of ick you get from him saying something so egotistical. “I don’t doubt it, and you deserve someone that can give you what you’re looking for.” 

“You think you can’t give me what I’m looking for?” He leans across the table in sudden intensity, and you balk at the notion. 

“No, I honestly don’t.”

“Why?”

You start to say something, but he cuts you off. “And, I really mean why? Why can’t you give me what I’m looking for? Enlighten me.” 

“I’m not-I have too much baggage.” You unconsciously lean away from his swelling intensity. 

“That’s a little vague.” He frowns. 

“I’m not normal, Julian. You seem like you would like normal women.” You cringe at the childish sentiment, but truly have no idea how to get the point across except for basically telling him that you’re a freak with a bad past and worse coping mechanisms. You eat slices of bread for dinner and drink out of the milk carton. Julian probably irons his shirts. This will not work. 

“You’re assuming I’m normal?”

“Yes. I guess I am.” You lean back and cross your arms over your chest. 

“Well, I’m not. In fact, I’ll prove it to you.” He takes out his wallet, pulls a laminated card from it, and slides it over the table to you. 

“What..” It’s a little red card framed in black with big bold letters on the front advertising a BDSM club in the heart of downtown Venice. “What is this?” 

“BDSM is bondage, domination-“

“I know what that is,” you interrupt. “I just meant.. You go here?”

“I do.” He nods and takes a drink. “I occasionally engage in scenes.”

You decide that you should coat your suddenly very dry mouth and drink a big gulp of your coffee. “Like with a dominatrix?”

He laughs at you, puts his head in his hand and shakes his head. “No. I prefer to be the dominant one.” 

You look at-really, really look at this man for the first time and honestly cannot imagine him taking that role. 

He must see the confusion on your face, because his laughter grows. “That’s the usual reaction I get.”

Curiosity killed the cat. Curiosity killed the-you know what, fuck it. 

“So, what do you do at the club?” 

“A typical play scene, you mean?” How in the hell he can be so casual and relaxed about this you’re not sure. Because you can already feel the cold sweat breaking along your shoulders and neck. 

“I guess? Yeah.”

“Well, ideally the woman is tied up in some fashion, and of course there’s a safe word, negotiated limits. Perhaps a punishment scenario with pain play. Are you okay?” 

He looks at your table-clutching, white knuckled hands, searches your face, giving you a genuine concerned expression that makes you wonder what actually is going on with you right now. You feel like you're on a tightrope over a ravine of crocodiles and Julian’s on the other end lazily sawing at the rope with dull scissors.

“I’m fine,” you say breathily, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about all that.”

His gentle smile is nothing less than kind, though maybe also, a little disappointed. “I get that a lot too.”

“Is that…the only way you enjoy sex?” you ask quietly, leery of the blue-haired old lady just two tables away.

“No,” he seems happy to tell you. “Though it is…the way I enjoy sex most.”

You blink, digesting this with understandable trepidation. He’s basically telling you that it would be impossible to be in a relationship with him without dipping into this eventually. And you…? 

Are definitely intrigued, and you’re not really sure why.

“You said you have baggage,” Julien probes cautiously. You can feel him looking at you, but you’re not quite up to eye contact with him yet. You fix your gaze out the window. “Well, I do too. I haven’t had a perfect life. No one does, and I’m not interested in a perfect girlfriend. I like you, y/n.”

You feel your breath go out in an audible whoosh. It actually makes him smile-you feel it like rays of the sun. How can this man be so warm, and yet have such a dark side?

Well, maybe it’s not a dark side, you reason. Maybe it’s just…a thing he likes, and between consenting adults, what’s the harm?

“So…” You can’t help but think about how odd this is, discussing this in this coffee shop filled with mild-mannered caffeine addicts. What you really want to ask, is what happened to him that makes him like this kind of sexual play, but you know it would be too far, and you damn well don’t feel like talking about your own fucked up past. But there is something you do feel you have a right to know. “Is this something you want to do to me?” 

Again, he fixes you with that bad boy smirk that gives you chills and utterly ruins your panties. “Since the moment you stood up to me over that patient,” he admits. And maybe that should alarm you, that he wants to tie you up and hurt you for being defiant about something that deserved defiance. It does alarm you, but… It also… It sounds a little thrilling. “In fact-“

Julian and the rest of the world and even your own thoughts disappear when you meet a pair of familiar, sun tinted eyes out the window of the coffee shop. He’s grinning-when is he not grinning at you like he knows what it does to your helpless insides?-and licking his fingers, tearing off a yellow parking ticket to slap it under the windshield of Julian’s rental.

“Uh, Julian-“ 

“Just let me finish,” Julian insists. His bossy tone irritates you, but Tom brightens the mood by making a jerking off motion towards the doctor, and then winking at you. 

You can’t help but laugh. It’s honestly involuntary, the loud wheeze that tears from your chest and makes Julian look outside to see the yellow ticket shining under his wiper as Ludlow’s ass saunters away. 

You’re not sure what Julian’s plan is when he storms outside to catch Ludlow by the arm, but you’re definitely following ten strides behind to prevent his untimely death. 

“I’m parked legally.” His voice is a menacing growl instead of the smooth honey you’re used to, and yeah, maybe now you can see a little bit of that Dominant Persona he was talking about. 

“Not after 9AM,” Tom says, unbothered by Julian’s anger, still grinning like an idiot. 

“It’s eight-thirty,” Julian argues, tugging on Tom’s sleeve-that earns him a bent back arm and even the appearance of handcuffs. 

“Tom, stop it, fucking really?” 

“Sorry, honey, your boyfriend’s going to jail.” 

“For what?!” You and Julian both demand at once. 

“Putting his pristine fucking hands on what’s mine.” Tom tugs Julian up on his toes and clicks one handcuff into place. 

You hope he means his uniform, but you have a feeling he doesn’t. 

“That’s way too tight and you know it,” Julian grunts. 

“What, someone likes to dish it out but can’t take it? Don’t be a bitch,” Tom muses, grabbing Julian’s other arm and twisting it-not gently-behind his back. 

“Tom, you fucking dickhead.” 

He looks at you as he’s putting the other cuff on your date. “Oh, I’ll deal with you later.” His grin looks more like a snarl at this point, and you think that Julian could probably take some pretty good Dom pointers from Tom, because your heart is galloping and your clit is pulsing despite the absolute absurdity of the situation. Also-it's a miracle-your sassing mouth has snapped shut. 

After Officer Ludlow practically throws Dr. Mercer into the back of his Charger, slamming the door, he turns to you with a smirk and his thumb in his belt. Goddammit, if that fucking look doesn’t go straight to your lady parts.

“Tom…you cannot do this.” 

A tow truck has pulled up, and is in process of impounding the sweet little Porsche.

He steps up to you in those big black boots that make him a mile tall.

“You’d be surprised what I can and cannot do, sweetheart.”

“Please.” You hate how desperate you know you sound. 

He taps his chin. “Well, I do like the sound of that. But it would be a lot more convincing if you got on your knees and said it.”

“You asshole,” you seethe, even as you can feel the moisture pooling between your legs.

“That kinda language definitely isn’t going to get Doctor Bitch Boy out of my car.”

“What the fuck do you want then?” You know it was a stupid question the moment it flies from your mouth. He’s going to reply with something filthy, and demeaning, and-

“Have dinner with me.”

You’re going to need another tow truck just to get your jaw up off the ground. 

“You’re going to get in trouble for this,” you say. “This isn’t harassing a lowly broke-ass nurse. He is going to sue the shit out of you.”

Tom just snorts at that, unimpressed. “Did you know your friend likes to hang out at a BDSM club in Venice Beach? Whips and chains and shit? Bet this asshole has mommy issues from here to Pasadena. Come on, y/n, you don’t need that in your life.”

It almost sounds like he’s…worried about you?

Officer Ludlow has no idea how badly he’s misjudged you, now that he’s pissed you off. “Maybe I like it,” you snipe back, stretching up so you’re almost in his face. “Fact is, it’s none of your fucking business.”

Ludlow just narrows his eyes down at you, those dark orbs glinting like sharp obsidian. “Well, sorry, guess he’s not tying you up tonight, baby. He’s gotta cool down in the tank.”

He makes to go, but you reach out, not grabbing him, per se, but just touching his chest. He freezes, and you can practically feel him vibrating beneath your hand. With excitement, because he fucking lives for being an asshole, or…you hate to think you know the real answer.

His mitt of a hand covers yours, holding it just above his heart.

“Tom….” Caught up in this tension between you, you’re not even sure what you’re asking now. 

You expect him to say something dirty, or snide, but instead you swear that just for a moment, his gaze softens as he looks down at you. “Dinner?” he asks again, with a note of hope in his voice that is almost endearing, if he wasn’t being such a class A jerk.

“I can’t.”

His demeanor changes in less than a second, drawing up to his full height, his shoulders squared. He flicks down his sunglasses that were on his head, so you can no longer even see his eyes. His voice changes, drops an octave, something. The authority in it makes you shudder inside. “Wave to Dr. Bitch Boy, y/n, we’re going for a little ride.”

Before you can grab him, or do anything, really, Tom is behind the wheel, speeding off with a very pissed off Julian in the back seat.

Your heart drops to your feet as you are left standing there alone on the sidewalk without a ride, and completely at a loss as to what to do.

***

“I’m going to fucking sue you,” Julian grits, kicking the back of Tom’s seat for good measure. 

“Yeah, yeah, with your doctor money,” Tom grumbles, taking a big swig of coffee with one hand and steering recklessly with the other because it’s fun to watch that skinny fuck bounce around helplessly in the seat. 

“I’m not getting booked tonight, Officer Ludlow. I’m calling my fucking lawyer.”

“Sorry, Doctor Bitch, your Lawyer’s busy until tomorrow afternoon, didn��t you hear?”

“You son of a-“

Tom gasses the car over a big pothole and it sends Julian flying into the opposite door. It’s a sight he could almost get off to.

Julian, big goose egg swelling up on his temple, gets yanked out of the squad car and tossed on the shit smeared, needle peppered streets of South Central. “They probably need you here more than the hospital, Doctor. Have fun–”

“Wait! Fuck. I’m still cuffed for fuck’s sake!” Tom gives the little guy credit for being able to get up on his feet so fast with his hands behind his back and a probable minor concussion. “You can’t leave me here.”

Tom pauses with his hand on the lip of the hot car door, but only to memorize the sight of a sweat-stained, wild eyed, trembling distinguished doctor about to get his shit wrecked on the mean LA Streets. He’s guessing Julian’s never visited much outside of Hollywood, Venice, and Santa Monica, and the cute little horrified expression on his face is testament to that. 

Tom taps the hood of his car. “See ya, Doc.” 

“You know,” Julian says, “this isn’t going to stop me from seeing her, Tom.” 

Well, if he wants a fight. 

Tom slams the charger door, whips off his belt, backs Julian up until he falls on his ass into a steaming puddle of unknown origin, and loops the leather around his neck. 

He tugs him up by the belt, onto his toes, eliminating that fraction of height difference just so he can see the whites of this prick’s eyes. 

He doubles the wrap of the belt in his fist, and Julian sputters something unintelligible through a thick choke. 

“What’s wrong? Thought you liked this shit?” Tom pretends to wait for an answer that he prevents. “Oh, that’s right, you like being the one doing the choking. That gets your dick wet, huh? Beating on women?” 

He wants nothing more than to choke this fucker unconscious and leave him on the streets for the hepatitis rats to chew on his toes, and, fuck it, if he ends up passing out by the time Tom’s done saying his peace, then so be it. 

“You can see her all you want, asshole. Take her on as many dates as you like. But if I see one fuckin’ bruise on her-one red mark on that pretty skin-I’m gonna make the rest of your short life very fucking unpleasant. Comprende?”