#month was kinda shit but... at least i had this music to carry me through it lol 💖

[bahamutgames]

AFTERTHOUGHTS - ROUNDUP ROUND 5

July 2023

Here we go again! I did NOT expect to play so much this month but I... yknow... kinda... got back into gaming in a special little way. I gave it up for a bit cause I was using a hand me down laptop that couldn't run games well, and I was having some phobias about data loss. Then I got a new laptop and while I did do a little bit, I mostly starting focusing on finally playing actual PC games and more indie games that were always out of my grasp as a dedicated console gamer.

Anyway I played a SHIT TON of games and hopefully I'll be able to play more and more. I have a gaming laptop, I have a big ass hard drive, and I have NO MONEY! SO LET'S PARTY!!!

Pikmin (October 26, 2001) - Gamecube

Ah, Pikmin. I've actually had a huge soft spot for this series for a long time. I always loved the world and characters. I remember writing an essay on Pikmin 2 in elementary school, and my mom convinced me to start journaling by telling me Olimar kept a journal lol. But you'll probably be shocked to learn that I NEVER beat this game! I've always been really bad at it and would get sad when my Pikmin died so I gave up on it. But with the power of save scumming, I was able to get the confidence needed to clear through it.

For positives this game is GORGEOUS. Even for gamecube trying to look hyper realistic (in the environments at least lol) I'm actually blown away by how good it looks! Playing on Dolphin may have helped but damn this game's graphics have ages AMAZINGLY. The whole game is also just so charming. Everyone's designs are really cute and delightful. From the Grubdogs to the SS Dolphin itself, their designs are lovely and everything is filled with such personality and charm. I love how goofy and squash-and-stretchy the Pikmin are. It's all so adorable even when facing themes on the cruelty of nature lol. Music is also FANTASTIC, gameplay is fun, I love the story and ending (the part with all the onions was SO cute.) I loved figuring out ways to get parts quicker and trickier, like one part is being guarded by 3 Burrowing Snagrets but you only need to kill the farthest to get it. So I had a bunch of Pikmin grab it and carry it out of the arena while I distracted the other two with a smaller army. It was very neat.

But I will say for all that praise this game is fucking ANNOYING! The Pikmin are so determined to die! I'll be doing everything in my power to keep them safe and they just gloriously run into any body of water or explosion they can. It's so frustrating and is a big reason I decided to emulate it despite owning the game physically. This could get especially frustrating when trying to precise things to get certain ship parts and having to deal with Pikmin stupidity combined with annoying hyper aggressive enemies. But despite that, every day since beating it all I can think is "damn I wish I was still playing Pikmin." So you can expect me to try Pikmin 2 very soon!

Sonic the Fighters (June 1996) - Gamecube

Sonic the Hedgehog? Check. Fighting Game? Double Check. Somehow I've gone my whole life and NEVER played this game!! I've had friends talk about how good it was for ages and it's literally two of my favorite things combined. So I'm very happy that I finally gave it a whirl. I played through Arcade on the easiest difficulty as Sonic!

And may I just say, I only played a little bit. So maybe I didn't get the full experience, but the gameplay in this SUCKS. In general I'm not a huge fan of 3D fighting games over 2D ones. But the enemies are so ruthlessly brutal for NO reason and it genuinely made some fights IMPOSSIBLE to get past. Particularly Tails and Metal Sonic. I am not proud of the swears I shouted at this game just trying my hardest to clear the Arcade mode. And it's endlessly frustrating to me that this game seems to get so much more love and be more popular than Sonic Battle which is LEAGUES better! WHY ARE SO MANY OF SONIC'S SMASH BROS. MOVES FROM THIS AND NOT BATTLE!?

But, I will say. I totally get why people like it. Pretty much everything outside of the combat totally fucking rules. The character models are cute, charming, and full of personality. The menus are nice, the music is GREAT. The plot is cute and works. The level backgrounds are AMAZING, seriously they look WONDERFUL! And I particularly really loved the final boss. Where the Death Egg is exploding and Eggman comes out with a self destruct timer, and then that timer turns into the match timer. SUPER cool touch. This game is really cool in spite of being kinda annoying to play.

Anyway, new Sonic 2D Fighter made by Arc System Works next please!!

Soul Calibur 2 (July 5th, 2002) - Gamecube

Oh boy, another 3D Fighting Game. Here we go. Soul Calibur is a series I've only played once before with SC6. And while the whole aesthetic and concept of this series absolutely RULES, it just doesn't really click with me. I love the weapons, Nightmare is SUCH a bad ass and so is the Soul Edge, I love the over the top narrator who says so much, the edgy fantasy aesthetic rules, and I love the weird guest characters. But it just never fully clicked sadly. BUT, I've heard LOTS of people say it's one of the best fighting games ever so I figured I'm overdue to check it out.

Just like SC6, this game looks great and has great character designs. I'm particularly a big sucker for these gorgeous Gamecube graphics. Lizardman was my main even though I played the arcade as Nightmare (since you can't do arcade as Lizardman which fucking blows.) But yeah I'm just not super into the gameplay. Neat game though. This and Tekken are both neat games I may sit down and try to play all of some day.

Super Monkey Ball (June 23, 2001) - Gamecube

You may be shocked to learn that I've barely touched this series in the past. I've played a Monkey Ball Arcade Machine at a Chuck E. Cheese once... I played the phone version one time... And that's about it! I know it's a really loved series but for whatever reason it just never came into my life before. But I've had a friend tell me I should play it for a while now so I decided, what the heck? Since I'm here I might as well give it a shot.

And yeah it's neat! I totally get why people like it! It's tricky, but honestly a ton of fun. Love the graphics and level aesthetics. Music is nice (I LOVED the final area's music with the rock soundtrack in that edgy colosseum). The characters are all super cute (my favorite Monkey Ball character is that one with pigtails and a raccoon tail but she wasn't in this one sadly.) I love the random Dole cross promotion stuff that was genuinely funny. And I like that you actually control the stage that was neat. My only major issues aside from it being, generally frustrating is that the camera can actually REALLY fuck you over, it tries to kinda hang towards your back. But this can really influence your delicate control over the stage. I had some levels where the camera swinging it around genuinely made it impossible to get over some hills.

Frustrating as it was, I actually remembered that my sister bought a Monkey Ball game on Switch recently, so I can absolutely see myself playing more of this series later.

Guilty Gear X (July 13, 2000) - Playstation 2

Ah, one of the last few Guilty Gear games I haven't played. I'm not sure why, but this one just never seems to get ported anywhere. If I had to guess it's cause it's very similar to XX, but it does have a very unique look to the menus, exclusive stages, and it's own story. So I really think they're overdue to put it on Steam. But oh well, that didn't stop me, I finally sat down and gave it a shot! I of course played through the Arcade as Sol and had a pretty good time with it!

It's GG so of course you already know the music and graphics are AMAZING, it feels great to play and is overall a fantastic package. I actually thought the menu aesthetics this time around were CRAZY good. Everything looks really cool and good and I know the character select is a bit notorious for being kinda difficult to see everything. And yeah that's true but I thought it looked awesome! Overall this game rules and I think it's worth checking out even with XX being a thing. It's interesting to see just how far the quality in sprites and backgrounds improved from Missing Link to X in not even that long of a time (though ML will still be one of my all time favs aha)

My only major complaint is that I thought the Arcade Mode was relentlessly brutal this time around. Once I reached the second half I was massively struggling to get through and I could not beat Dizzy to save my life, it was nuts. I never had this trouble with Missing Link or XX! Maybe it was just the version I was playing or my controller. But this game seriously whipped my ass. Oh well. Still cool.

User Unknwn (July 17, 2023) - PC

It's okay for me to write about games made by friends of mine right? That's cool? It's my tumblr I'll shout out whoever I want. A friend of mine recently released a visual novel and I think you should give it a read! User Unknwn is an interesting and in my opinion, unsettling little visual novel about a strange homebrew app for PSP that causes... Problems let's say.

It talks about dysphoria and struggling with presenting and how people treat you when you're trans. I think it's best you read it yourself to see how you interpret it, but I found it to be very relatable with how it handles these topics and also makes it very creepy and bizarre in a good way. It's got nice visuals, I liked the use of real world photos and scribbles, it's a nice combination. It's got an interesting story and it's actually got an original soundtrack! Which is very good but also cool that they made the effort to include that! Most small indie games will just forgo music altogether or use free music, I'll admit I'm guilty of most of my games being silent. But no, here you get a full soundtrack! Which is honestly awesome! My favorite might be, and I'm sorry I have to type this... "Music That Will Make You Cum Your Pants"

Seeing as how it's a visual novel there's really nothing to complain about. My only complaint is that I'm also an original trilogy Paper Mario guy and I would NOT act like gabe, I'm better than that.

Super Mario 64 Star Road (December 24, 2011) - N64 Mod

Hey! Would you believe that this is probably the first Mario Romhack I've ever beaten? I've played TONS of Mario Fangames in my time. But never any Rockhacks oddly enough. But I recently played Super Mario 64 CO-OP with some friends, and I LOVED IT. You can set it to not boot you out when getting a star, let Mario access moves added to later games, and improve his swimming which makes the game feel SO good and new. It also natively runs fullscreen and has modern controller controls, it feels SO good to play this way (and you can customize Mario's color scheme.) So I did a quick 30 star run in the base game, and wanted more. It came with Star Road so I decided to play through that, and here we are!

STAR ROAD RULES!! It's a brand new game with a fully original hub world, all new stages, 120 brand new stars. Nothing is copied from Mario 64 except for the characters and the base engine and what not, of course. It's literally a whole new experience, and I loved it! I loved the new worlds, my favorites were probably Bob-Omb Island and Fatal Flame Falls! There's tons of areas to see and I don't think I even found them all! The game also has original boss battles like a bunch of big piranha plants which was very cool to see! And I was blown away by just how big the game is. I rushed the to beat the first boss, and then was shocked to see a second hub world! Then the same thing happened and there's a third hub world! This game is crazy massive! It's also got some new enemies, some visuals and stuff from other Mario games, and it was super cute hearing different video game tracks put in the SM64 soundfont for the OST!

The game isn't perfect though. In my opinion it's too long. You need 80 stars to beat it which is already 10 more than the original. And I feel like there's less stars in each world than the original game so you REALLY have to 100% a lot of worlds in order to get everything you need. I 100% cleared almost every main level to get 80 stars which is just a bit too much. I also felt like there were too many instadeath locations. The big bully in the snow world, the piranha plant boss, ect ect. Gloomy Garden was especially guilty for having SO many places to fall off and feeling SO big while also being so empty. That was easily my least favorite stage. BUT aside from that, this was an amazing romhack! I may even come back and 100% it some day!

Pac-Man World 2 (February 24, 2002) - Gamecube

And last but not least, Pac-Man World 2! I played the first one last year I believe, so of course it's only natural we jump into the sequel this year! This one I basically knew nothing about, never watched any videos of it or nothing. I just remember seeing the cover a lot at my local video rental store... I'm not old shut up. (I miss you so much, Screenplay Video...) But I finally gave it a go and I'm glad I did! It's a neat little game!

The game looks very nice, controls nice, I thought the music was good. And I love the story honestly. Spooky is cool and the whole concept with collecting the gold fruit, while simple, is cute and works perfectly. The game also isn't too long, it's shorter than even the first one. Speaking of which, I was really shocked to see how similar it was to the first one. The Rev Roll is still there and it has a lot of the same mechanics with finding fruit and what not. Idk why I just wasn't expect it to be so similar to the first! I do think I might prefer this one though? And the final boss was cool and the first boss was FANTASTIC!!

Speaking of bosses though, this ties in perfectly with what WASN'T that good about it. Dude. The middle 3 bosses are the EXACT same bosses and this boss fight fucking SUCKS. IT'S AWFUL, so I have no idea why they recycled it 3 TIMES but the cool frog boss just got left in the dust. It's so stupid. In addition whole the game itself is short that's only the case cause there's so few levels. Which they had to do cause the levels are SO LONG!! They drag on FOREVER and especially some of the on rails ones can just go and go and go. It's not too hard so it's not that bad but it can noticeable when you're playing a single level for what feels like forever. I also felt like there were a lot of jumps that were just slightly too far to make, I kept ALWAYS grabbing the ledge and rarely landing on platforms, and if you do that on the tons of platforms that fall, it's an instadeath every time. And then the final level felt completely broken. I had no idea what was happening in that stage I would constantly make progress, and then my reward would be being sent back earlier into the level. Wormwood fucking rules though so that's okay.

Regardless! Now that that's over there's only one more game left! Pac-Man World 3! THAT'S the one I've been looking forward to! It's the only one I played as a kid, it's edgy, and Pacman PUNCHES PEOPLE! I can't wait to play it!

---

I also played 2 other games, but really didn't have much of anything to say on them. WarioWare, Inc. Mega Party Game$! which was, neat but really boring without friends. Cutscenes were particularly goofy though. And Capcom vs. SNK 2: Mark of the Millennium 2001 which was a very cool fighting game I've heard people rave about for ages! But I only briefly played it so I'd like to learn how to play it better and give it another go later, particularly after I play more KoF. But hey, look at my funny custom Morrigan color scheme:

[ohcaptains]

whatever you want, i’ll let you take

pairing. tasm!peter parker x female!reader an. something quick to get back into the swing of things. the beginning is inspired by @clints-lucky-arrow fic ‘inhibitions’, pls read it, it’s brilliant.  warnings. cannabis use, fingering, female receiving oral sex, female receiving penetration, shitty spider-man merch. not beta’d. 

masterlist.

synopsis. peters got a girlfriend. peter lives in a shitty apartment. his girlfriend buys him a lava lamp for said apartment. he’s gotta repay her somehow. 

There’s music playing. Distantly. A man singing over an electric sounding backing track, the chorus coming in and tinny drums bouncing around behind him. It was Peter’s pick. 

You remember him saying, I gotta show you this album I found, but you’re not listening, you’re looking around his new, barren apartment. It’s shitty, but it’s home.

He’d found it on a whim – swinging around New York buildings at night, he saw which ones were empty. The window beside you was wide open, (hopefully) distilling the smell of the weed the pair of you were smoking. 

He’s warm from beneath you, and you can feel the gentle rise and fall of his breathing from your head on his shoulder. He smells like aftershave and smoke, and he’s keeping you close with his arm around you, fingers fiddling with your hair, the other holding the joint.

The music skips to a new track. He’d been living in this apartment for about two weeks now, and it had served him well. I only need a place to sleep, babe, he’d said after you’d walked into the room he was paying hundreds for a month. Quite literally, a room. 

You’d stood in the middle of it and held your arms out. Pete, my fingers are touching the walls.

He’d scoffed. My mattress fits in here, the toilet and the kitchen – he’d pointed to the fridge and his toaster – and me and you. Everything I need. 

You’d forced him to at least get a bed frame, and he’d stored most of his shit under it – look, it has drawers! – and it was pushed near the window, both a place to sleep and a place to cushion the blow from when he’d swing back home through the window above it.

“We need to vamp this place up,” you suddenly speak, eyes alight with this new idea. Peter glances down at you, “yeah?”

“Mm,” you nod, motioning for the joint you’re sharing. He hands it to you and watches you put it to your mouth while one hand flutters at the ceiling, “needs something to make it pop.” 

“I think your underwear on the floor does that already.” You screw your face up, “I’m being serious.” Motivation floods through you as you rise onto your elbow.

Peter is watching you curiously, his eyes glassy, mouth quirked into a smirk at your sudden idea, your enthusiasm as you say, “like fairy lights or something, a cute lamp maybe.” 

You toke on the joint again, then hand it to him, needing your hands as you exclaim, “a RUG! I’ll learn how to make them, I saw a video – I’ll make you a really cute one, with clouds on it I’m sure there are patterns online somewhere. I don’t think it's too hard either you just need the fabric…there’s that cheap fabric store down on ninth, I’ll have a look there oh my GOD PETER!” you clap your hands together, making your boyfriend flinch. “New HOBBY!”

You pat his chest, and repeat your previous point, “A new hobby…You’ll have crime-fighting and I’ll have rug making.”

“The dynamic duo.” It’s like you don’t hear him, because you’re carrying on, eyes focusing somewhere in the distance like you can see all of your plans laid out in front of you. “I can make spider-man themed ones…”

“’ think the people at times square got you beat there.” “They have spider-man themed rugs now?”

You’d gone to the city a couple of weeks ago. An outing on the rare time you both had a day off, and you’d happened upon a man selling bootleg spiderman merch. 

Peter shrugs, “probably. Last time I was there, they had a rucksack.” “That’s kinda cute though, there’s a kid in New York with a rucksack with your face on it.” “What’s cute would be that money in my bank account.”

Your hand is still on his chest. Absentmindedly, you fiddle with the neckline of his shirt, then with the thin chain he’s got on. He wiggles around, reaching for the glass of water he’s got on the table beside you. 

His body is warm and heavy as he leans across you, smelling like weed. A thought occurs to you, “I’ll give you all of the money I get from my rug.”

Peter’s face flickers into a pout, “awh, I wouldn’t make you do that babe.” He watches you as he sips on the water. Eyes glassy and loose, languidly studying your half-naked frame. 

You’re too busy thinking about your future booming rug business that you don’t notice him lazily eyeing you up, high, and drunk, it seems, on you. When he’s done, he puts it back on the table, along with the butt of the joint, then rests beside you as you grin, a brilliant thought occurring to you. “I’ll donate all of my money to the spider-man fund.”

Peter’s got other ideas. He takes your arm and pulls it, letting you fall back onto the bed while his frame hovers over you to push you into the soft mattress. His face comes into view. 

He always got red when he smoked, and now his cheeks are flushed pink. Hair a mess from your previous lovemaking, all curly and stuck on end.

He’s so pretty, makes you reach out and trace his jaw with your pointer finger, feeling the stubble there. 

Your man, your boy. 

“I know how you can donate to the spider-man fund,” he quirks, smiling with his tongue pushed between his teeth. Eyes alight with languid wonder, you cup his cheeks, “mmmm,” you hum, chewing on your bottom lip, “with a scarf?”

Peter doesn’t answer. Instead, he moves to kiss you, lips wet with his spit and the water he’d just drank. Nose nudging across your cheek, he moves to kiss your neck. 

“A hat?” you breathe, flinching from his teeth running under your jaw. Belly clenching from his tongue sliding over your collarbones, you lazily slide your fingers into his hair, eyes fluttering as his mouth moves over the thin fabric of your bra, his teeth catching your fabric-covered nipple.

Makes your body jolt into him, and Peter’s laughing as he mouths at your bare stomach, working his way down to the bare heat between your thighs. Cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, eyes glassy in the smoke-filled haze he’s beautiful. 

Then his swollen lips mouth at the top of your pussy and he’s gorgeous. Buries his nose into the tuff of hair you’ve got there, and you stutter a breath, feeling him breathe you in, mouth dangerously close to your clit. 

“By coming,” he whispers into your skin. Your breath hitches, “that’s down to you, pretty boy.” “Mmm, call me that again.”

So, you say it again, say you look so pretty down there, and he’s whimpering, grabbing your thighs and holding them around his head. 

Skin electric from smoking, still tender from him fucking you about an hour ago, pussy wet from before, his mouth goes slack, tongue swiping through your damp folds with a lazy kind of passion that makes your head push back into the pillows, the word Fuck spilling out of your lips as your eyes flutter closed. Peter’s voice is muffled as he says, “I can still taste myself inside of you.” “Jesus Christ,” you sob quickly, clenching your thighs around his head and he whines, correcting you, “peter.” But you rectify him. Pull at his hair, shake your head and say, “mine,” voice clear and sure, making him whimper, move up and suck at your clit. 

Your body is jelly, warm, head dizzy, the feeling dialed down to between your legs while he lazily laps at you, tongue flat against your wet cunt, nose pushed into your heat.

Still on edge, with your nerves simmering from before, it doesn’t take long for you to come. Though, it never really does with him.

A week later, you’re knocking on his door. The hallway of his apartment is a lot nicer than the actual apartment. His landlord must have done it up recently, as it still smells like paint and bleach. 

Distantly, you wonder if anything had happened that had forced him to clean up a bit. You tighten your grip on the gift bag. Peter swings his door open, pretty, scruffy face lighting up when he sees you. The gift bag is pushed into his face, “I got you a gift!” you exclaim.

In his apartment, he sits on his bed and tears into the bag while you wait patiently, chewing on your nails. When he pulls out the lava lamp box, you quickly try to explain. 

“I know it’s not a rug but, it’ll take me a minute to learn how to make them. I thought this would be cute. You can turn it on before you leave at night and when you come back it’ll all be melted and moving, it’s pink too! My favourite.”

Peter’s head is resting on the top of the box as he holds it and watches you, his eyes buttery and hair dangling in front of them. “and it’ll give this place some colour, you can put it by the window too. Oh! You’ll be able to see it from the rooftop – what?” 

“Hm?” Peter sounds, a playful smile on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “You bought me a lava lamp,” he says simply, forcing you to make a funny face and laugh, “Yeah, I did. Do you like it?”

Peter slides it onto the bed and stands up, hand cradling your cheek to kiss you. “I love it,” he whispers, mouthing at your lips. “Yeah?” you breathe, not interested in the kiss, more so in getting his approval. 

Peter nods against you and deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth while your arms rest limply at your sides. Then, you start tapping at his arms, pulling your mouth away as you exclaim, “Plug it in! Plug it in!” Peter plugs it into the socket near his bed and rests it on his windowsill, seeing the gloop pink at the bottom and the bulb flash purple. “It’s pink and purple,” you explain, even though he can see that. “It takes about an hour to melt and oh my god! I nearly forgot, look what I got!”

You’re moving so quickly that Peter goes to question you about how much coffee you’ve drunk, but you’re unzipping your jacket, so he’s too distracted to ask. “You know how I had to go to the city yesterday for work? Well, I went to Times square and—” “Holy shit.”

Beneath your jacket is a spider-man shirt, tucked into your work attire pencil skirt. There he was, dressed in his suit, shooting a web across your chest with the words ‘go spidey!’ slashed at the bottom in a comic sans font. Peter’s hand comes up to cover his mouth. “Oh baby…” he whispers, terror and surprise mingling on his face.

You tug at the thin material, letting him see it clearly. “Isn’t it the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen?” “It’s horrible.” “I kinda like it though because it’s ugly.”

Peters found the courage to walk closer to you, and he reaches out and touches it. “How much did it cost?” “Like ten bucks.” 

“You were robbed.” It’s a thin material, basically sheer if it wasn’t a deep blue. You grin, “I even told him, I said – you know, I’m dating the actual spider-man, do I get a discount?” you joke. Peter glances up at you, giving you a chastised look, “You trading on my good name?” You pout, “and it wasn’t even worth it.”

There’s a beat of silence as Peter looks at you. Takes in your shirt, tucked into the black pencil skirt you wear to work, the one he likes peeling up over your thighs to see the stockings you’ve paired it with. 

Thinks about you pushing the shirt under the fabric, all excited to show him, joke around with him after giving him his gift. He comes to a conclusion. Well, more than one.

“The only solution is I gotta take it off of you.”

He pairs it with a lazy shrug as if he can’t help it. You let him touch at your stomach, feel him pull the t-shirt out of the skirt while you wrap your arms around him, his breath heavy and eyes focused on your chest. “Really?” you pry, catching his eyes. “I thought we could do it with it on.” 

In response, he squints his left eye, pretending to think about it, “hmmm.” “You know, ‘Go spidey!’, some encouragement.” He pulls a face, “mmmm.” “Go spidey!” you repeat, a sarcastic, faux cheer to it, hand pumping the air. Peter shakes it away as he shakes his head, pressing his forehead into yours. “You’re all the encouragement I need.” 

“Should I say it? Should I say ‘go spidey’?” Softly, he laughs, “If you say it one more time.” “What you gonna do spidey?” “Shut up.”

His mouth is desperate as he kisses you, quieting your resulting gasp of surprise. Hands groping at your t-shirt, he stuffs it in his fist while he steers you towards the bed. “Thank you for my lava lamp,” he mumbles into your mouth. “You’re so thoughtful…my sweet girl.” 

The words slide through you like a warm bath. You’re not even high, but his words have you drunk and loose in his grip. With your back on the bed, his muscular frame hovers over you, teeth on your bottom lip. “My best girl,” he punctuates, kissing you again.

You whine. “When you look at it, you’ll think of me.” “I always think about you,” and he pushes his hand under your skirt to confirm it. Cups your clothed pussy, forcing you to gasp into his mouth. 

“How was the city?” he questions. Your response is quick, “busy.” With his hand exploring, he nods, says, “yeah?” like he’s not sliding his fingers over your cotton covered slit right now. A random synonym comes to you, “crowded.” “That’s the same thing babe.” “Packed.” “What else?” “Congested.” “Yeah?” “Cramped.” “I’m gathering it was really jammed,” he slides his fingers under your underwear and feels how wet he’s got you already, your hips stuttering up into his, desperate for his skilled touch. 

He’s kissing at your cheek, your jaw, running his middle finger between your puffy folds and sliding your slick over your clit. “I thought you were gonna take my top off.”

Peter pauses. “You want me to take my hand out?” the words are muffled by your skin, but you can hear the teasing in there somewhere. “No,” you shake your head, pushing into his hand. Peter laughs and kisses under your jaw. “You can never make a decision,” he jokingly chastises.

“That’s not true,” You reach out for his cock, covered by his sweatpants. “I’ve decided I want you inside of me.” Peter’s breath hitches when you touch him, hard and loose under his trousers. “That’s funny.” “Hm?” “’cause I want the same damn thing.”

His favourite skirt gets pulled up around your hips, letting him see the bare skin of your thighs, stockings pinched around them. His mouth goes straight for your underwear though, where he leaves a soft kiss to the wet, strained fabric. “We should get you some spider-man themed underwear, have my face between your legs all day.” “I prefer the real thing. “ “So do I.”

Shirt now off, he mouths upwards, going for your breasts that are barely covered with the bra that’s basically straps, sheer fabric and an underwire. 

His favourite, too. Gets to see the way your nipples push at the baby blue fabric, the way they respond to his touch, hardening at the tips as he kisses at the bare skin at the top of your cleavage, tongue leaving salvia across your body.

You whisper his name, hand stuffed into his curls. He catches your eyes, sees them glossed over and focused on his movements, makes him smirk and carry on lazily worshiping you, thinking about you picking out his gift and packing it. 

Thinking about how wet you get from his kisses, your body reacting to whatever he gives you. Slowly, he slides his knee into your crotch. Pushes it into you. Makes you whimper.

“Pete, please – I want you inside of me.” He groans, forehead dropping to your stomach. He’ll never get sick of hearing that. Hearing you beg for him or hearing you laugh as he begs for you, whimpering your name. He sighs, kissing at your belly. “I gotta make sure you’re wet enough sweetheart.” 

Then because he can feel himself straining against his sweatpants, he moves, tugs your underwear down and dribbles onto your pussy, using his fingers to stuff it into your swollen hole. He sees your eyes roll back, hears you gasp, feels you clench around his finger, followed by your slick covering his skin. “Look at me, baby.” You do. Languidly blink up at him, his face hovering over you as he stretches you open, stuffing in another finger beside it and your arms quickly go around his neck, hiding your pleas in his throat. He can still hear you though. 

Can hear you whimpering, saying oh my god as he uses his other hand to pinch at your clit, fucking his pointer and middle finger up into you that spongey part inside of you that’s got you gushing around his hand. Can make you come like this. He has before. But you say, “wanna come around your cock.”

Okay. Sure thing. Whatever you want, and Peter’s thoughts are muddled as you move of your own accord, shoving his sweatpants under his ass and lubing the pink head of his cock up with the slick that’s leaking out of your cunt. His moan is long and deep when you finally stuff him inside of you, clenching immediately at the feeling of being fuller than his fingers.

“Fuck,” he swears, fumbling between your legs to rub at your clit. You weep, cradling the back of his head as he swirls the nerve around, sliding out of your hole before slipping back in, deeper this time, forcing you to wrap your thighs around his middle and shove your feet at his ass. 

The pair of you move like that for a while. Slow and in a daze, filled with a deep need, but not rushing it, just enjoying it, enjoying Peter’s whines that are muffled by your now wet neck. Him saying, gonna fuck this pussy forever and you nodding, moaning whatever you say. 

Whatever you want. Whatever you want I’ll let you take.

[sluttyten]

#25, #37 and #181 for Jungwoo or Jaehyun ❤️‍🔥

Jungwoo or Jaehyun + “shit, i forgot just how tight you are.” + meeting them at a house party and sneaking off to fuck them in the bathroom. + you being their best friend’s younger sibling.

When your brother Mark met his best friend, when he moved in with him, you thought for sure you’d cracked it and that your brother was gay and his best friend was his secret boyfriend. They were constantly together--going on trips, going out to dinner, going shopping together--so it wasn’t like it was a crazy leap in logic. But then one night, Mark was out of town, you needed a place to stay, so he told you to go stay at his place. 

Neither you or Jungwoo ever admitted to Mark the truth of that night. How you’d been sitting on the sofa with Jungwoo, venting to him, and when you’d mentioned in an offhand way how he was your brother’s boyfriend (like, obviously), Jungwoo paused and looked at you with the most adorably confused look on his face.

“I’m not his boyfriend. We’re honest to God just friends.” He holds his hand over his heart. “I’m into you, not Mark.”

In the space after those words, your entire worldview rearranged. You looked at Jungwoo, at the way he was looking at you, leaned towards you in comfortable casualness, and you realized that yeah, you could be into him too.

He fucked you right there on that sofa that night, and again in the shower the next morning, and before you left for the day, you made it clear to Jungwoo that sleeping with him meant nothing more than that you found him attractive too. You didn’t want your brother to know, and you didn’t plan to let it happen again. It had been perhaps a lapse in judgement to have sex with your brother’s best friend.

Weeks go by, and then months. You and Jungwoo are perfectly normal around each other, not letting that night interfere in any way. And then Mark throws a housewarming party when he and Jungwoo move out of their cramped apartment and start renting a house together with a few other friends. 

It’s the kind of housewarming that your other family members aren’t invited to. It feels more like a frat party than a housewarming.

There’s people everywhere. All over the lawn, filling every inch of the house you’d just helped your brother move his furniture into. You recognize a few of them as close friends of your brother that you’ve met before, but for the most part, you don’t know these people. You assume many of them are friends of the friends he’s moved in with, but you don’t even know any of those people other than Jungwoo.

So, you do your best to make new friends.

You meet a few lovely people before you finally meet Jaehyun. 

He seems nice, very friendly and handsome. You meet him over a tray of snacks you just know your brother sat out, and you start talking to him, small talk that quickly takes a turn when you both realize a mutual interest. That conversation carries you away from the snacks to standing outside, and once you’ve made it outside, you realize that someone’s set up a game of beer pong.

“Jae!” The guy at one end of the table calls as soon as he spots Jaehyun. “We need someone to play against!”

Jaehyun looks at you. “Want to be my partner?”

You hate the idea of leaving his side, knowing that if you do, some other girl that’s been eyeing him all night would quickly sweep in to try to fill your spot. 

So, it’s possibly one of the best decisions you’ve made yet that night to be his partner for beer pong because you win, and in the joy of victory, Jaehyun sweeps you into a hug and promises you that he owes you a prize. He quickly makes it clear that that prize is a fresh drink that’s not beer with a ball floating in it.

You could care less about getting another drink, but you go along with him as Jaehyun attempts to swim through the crowd of people that have gathered for this party now. You cling to his arm (his bare, well-chiseled biceps), and you never let your eyes leave the sight of his head (a backwards hat resting on his long black hair). 

When Jaehyun finds the way to the kitchen almost impossible to pass through due to it being a small room filled with alcohol and too many people trying to drink that alcohol, he sighs and stops, leaning against the wall and tugging you close to avoid you getting knocked into by the people passing behind you.

“Well, there goes my planned prize for you,” Jaehyun sighs, looking at you with this look that swells a hope inside you. “Guess I should treat you with something else.”

“I have an idea,” you venture, pressing forward a little more, letting your hand slide up his arm. “If you’re interested, you could be my prize, and I’ll be yours.”

“I’ll take that. Gladly.” Jaehyun’s gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips.

Before either of you can back down, decide that maybe you’re too buzzed to make a solid decision right now, you grab his hand and pull him away from the mass of people waiting to get inside the kitchen. You lead him upstairs, heading right for the bathroom you know is at the end of the hallway beside one of Mark’s housemate’s rooms.

You think you hear someone call your name downstairs, but over the music, it’s difficult to tell, and you refuse to let yourself be distracted away from Jaehyun.

You pull him inside the bathroom. Jaehyun closes the door behind him, and as soon as he’s turned to face you again, you all but launch yourself at him. 

Jaehyun’s teeth clack against yours. His warm fingers dig into your ass and thighs, and you clutch desperately at Jaehyun’s face, holding his mouth against yours in a bruising kiss as he stumbles deeper inside the bathroom with you. You feel the plasticky brush of the shower curtain, and then your back hits cool tile. 

Jaehyun has you against the shower wall, the scent of body wash filling your nose, and your moan echoes off the tile when Jaehyun slips his hand inside your panties. His fingers are expert, skilled at getting you off, toying with your clit and then he’s two fingers deep, rubbing your clit now as well as stimulating you from the inside. 

“Told you I’d give you a prize. You gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Gonna cum on my fingers?” Jaehyun kisses his words against your throat, and then he closes his lips around a sensitive spot and sucks.

Not that you want Jaehyun to know, but it’s been months since the last time you had sex, since the last time you orgasmed, so as the climax hits right now, your vision goes white, and your senses are overwhelmed on every side.

The volume in the room increases to a dull roar in your ears, and your fingers dig into Jaehyun’s shoulders, your body arching as he keeps going, pushing your orgasm to last longer and longer on his fingers. You moan his name softly between gasps, like an ecstatic prayer.

Your eyes flutter open, and you realize that the volume in the room isn’t just the buzz of pleasure and the pounding of your heartbeat anymore.

The dull roar of the party cuts out significantly when Jungwoo shuts the door behind him. Jaehyun’s head snaps up from where he’s been trying to leave his mark on your throat. Jungwoo clears his throat, “Don’t mind me, Jae, I just came up for a piss. But you should probably know that’s our housemate’s sister you’re fingering.”

Housemate? Jaehyun’s one of Mark’s new housemates? Shit, you drop your head back, in disbelief that you’ve done this again, fucking with your brother’s friend.

“Shit,” Jaehyun whispers quietly against your skin. “I thought you looked kinda familiar.”

“She has a thing for fucking her brother’s best friends.” Jungwoo turns his back on the pair of you, and you realize that he genuinely is using the toilet right now. Unbelievable. He couldn’t have just walked out to use one of the other two bathrooms in this house when he saw that this one was occupied?

“Jealous, Jungwoo?” You push lightly at Jaehyun’s shoulders until he steps back, freeing up enough space for you to straighten your clothes. “It’s not a good look on you.”

Jungwoo laughs. “Why would I be jealous? We had sex one night, and never spoke about it again.”

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t want it to happen again.” You walk up right behind him. “Do you think I haven’t caught you looking at me?”

Jungwoo turns to face you. “What about you looking at me? Have you not spent any lonely nights since then thinking of me? Remembering the way I touched you, how it felt when you fell apart for me?”

Jaehyun clears his throat. “I’m still standing right here, you know. If you’re gonna have this weird moment, at least let me leave.” He starts to step around you, to squeeze by both you and Jungwoo, but you reach out to touch his arm.

“Don’t go. I want you to stay. You’re the one I brought in here. Not Jungwoo.” You squeeze Jaehyun’s wrist. 

“Maybe you two just need to fuck it out of each other again,” Jaehyun recommends. “Don’t let me get in the way of that.”

You don’t let go of his wrist even when he tugs, instead you hold tighter. Something he said gave you an idea. “Don’t go. I don’t want you to be in the way, Jaehyun. What if, and either of you can say no, but what if we all got what we wanted?”

You know for a fact it would be the end of you if Mark ever learned that you’d had sex with not just one of his bestfriends, and not even just that you had sex with two of his best friends, but the fact that you had sex with two of them at the same time in the bathroom of the house he’s renting with said best friends, yeah, you would be over if he knew.

So you definitely don’t let risk letting him find out.

This time you lock the door. You don’t want anyone walking in when you’re leaning your elbows on the low countertop of the sink in that bathroom, blowing Jungwoo with your panties around your ankles while Jaehyun fucks you. You don’t want anyone to walk in when Jaehyun pulls you back up against his chest, when Jungwoo steps closer and edges his fingers in alongside Jaehyun’s cock.

Something about the coordinated way that they move with each other, the way neither voices a complaint as Jungwoo stretches your pussy around him and Jaehyun’s cocks, something about that strikes you as odd. Not premeditated necessarily, just practiced, like maybe they’ve fucked a girl together before.

If you thought your orgasm on just Jaehyun’s fingers after so long without sex was amazing, then the orgasm you experience on both of their cocks is world-ending. You feel yourself breaking apart at the edges, the pleasure going and going as they neither one stop when they feel you cumming around them. 

Jungwoo kisses you even when your head falls back against Jaehyun’s shoulder, tasting the pathetic whimpers and pleas of more that spill from your lips. Jaehyun snaps his hips forwards harder, driving himself closer and closer to his own orgasm. The feel of his cock pulsing inside you, shooting his load inside you, is enough to have you cumming again.

Jaehyun pulls out, but he stays right there beside you, his chest against your back, his arms around you, holding you up as Jungwoo keeps fucking you. You’re sensitive now, so sensitive and it hurts but it feels so good, and you keep clenching around Jungwoo. 

“Shit, baby,” Jungwoo hisses and groans. “I forgot just how tight you are. I’ve missed you. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

You feel like a white hot star on the verge of collapse by the time that Jungwoo cums, his fingers twitching over your clit just to draw a final orgasm from you. This is all much more than you’ve felt in a long time, or possibly more than you’ve ever felt. 

Jaehyun supports you against his chest as Jungwoo steps back. Your legs feel useless when your feet touch the floor, and you have Jaehyun to thank for you not completely collapsing. He holds you, slowly leaning back against the wall and sinking even more slowly to the floor with you. You feel like you could never move again and be perfectly happy. 

“I’ve got her, she’s fine,” you hear Jaehyun say. “Go back out to the party. I can help her clean up, can get her to bed. Should I put her in Mark’s room?”

“No,” you murmur, “Put me in Jungwoo’s bed. Mark wouldn’t think that’s weird for me to be there.”

Jaehyun goes a little stiff at the idea of leaving you in another guy’s bed, but you hear the silent agreement between the two. They won’t talk about this outside of here. They won’t let this fuck up a friendship--either the one between them, or the one with Mark. Jaehyun will help you into Jungwoo’s bed tonight, but that doesn’t mean he won’t hope to have you in his on some other night.

And after Jungwoo leaves the bathroom, after you’ve regained some desire to get up off this bathroom floor,  you makeout with Jaehyun in the shower while you both clean up. You sneak out of the bathroom and down the hall to Jungwoo’s room beside your brother’s, and when you climb in between the covers and bury your face in the pillow that smells just like Jungwoo, Jaehyun slides in beside you.

“I really like you,” he tells you. “I know we’ve only known each other for a couple hours now, but I really like you.” 

“I like you a lot too,” you admit. You place a hand lightly on his cheek, drawing Jaehyun into a kiss. 

Jungwoo finds you like that a bit later when he comes to bed; you and Jaehyun asleep in each other’s arms in his bed, and his heart breaks a little knowing that this is something he could have had if he would’ve just fought a little harder a few months ago to make his feelings known to you. He should’ve made a move before tonight, sometime after that night you’d spent with him months ago. But he was scared of what your brother might think.

That’s why he’d come upstairs tonight. He’d seen you walking upstairs, and by the time Jungwoo navigated his way through the crowd and extricated himself from clinging hands trying to drag him in for a drink, he’d followed you upstairs only to find you getting fingered by Jaehyun.

He’s still standing there beside his own bed, looking at you two, when you stir. 

“Jungwoo?” You ask, stretching out a hand to him. “Come to bed.”

The feel of your palm sliding against his, lightly pulling him to join you, that is almost more exhilarating that what happened earlier in the evening. Because you might be cuddling with Jaehyun, but you clearly want him there too, and Jungwoo doesn’t entirely understand what any of this means, but if he can have this moment with you and a million more like it, he doesn’t think he really minds what it means to share you with Jaehyun. 

requests are now closed! Thank you to everyone that sent your requests/prompts in, I really enjoyed writing these drabbles!

[imaginemcyt]

sisterinnit!

cc!wilbur soot x tommy’s older sister

tw: language

note: this one uses specifically she/her pronouns, however, you can replace them with your pronouns. it won’t change the story at all. sorry that this is kinda shit but tumblr deleted my draft and i had to completely rewrite it so this is what i’ve got. hope you enjoy! <3

“y/n this is wilbur, wilbur this is y/n.” tommy gave the basic introductions with a bored look on his face.

“y/n simons, pleasure to meet you.”

“wilbur soot, the pleasure is all mine.”

as he shook your hand, you stared into each other’s eyes. he wore a small smile, that was almost a smirk. was it just you, or was there electricity when your hands touched? that had to be in your head, right? your gaze lingered on the other for perhaps a little too long before you let go of each other’s hands.

“now get out, y/n.” tommy pushed you towards the door.

•••

“y/n can you see wilbur out? i’m busy!”

wilbur looked at you with a smile, causing you to blush. you nodded and yelled back at your brother, “yeah!”

you led wilbur to the front door, opening it and stepping to the side. you looked at him to find he was already looking at you. he grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles.

“it was nice meeting you, y/n.”

as you stuttered out a reply, he gave you that same almost-smirk and turned away, walking down your driveway.

•••

“what are you doing up?”

you jumped, not expecting to see someone in your kitchen at two am. then you remembered tommy had invited friends over.

“oh, it’s you. i… i can’t sleep. what are you still doing awake?”

you filled a glass up with water and began to drink it, putting it in the sink when you were done.

“tommy snores really loud.”

you both let out a light laugh at your younger brother’s expense.

“well, since we’re both awake, do you want to do something? we could watch friends? that’s all i was doing anyway.”

“that sounds great.”

you both made your way up the stairs and into your room. you sat on the bed and set up the laptop with the episode you were currently on. eventually you were laying down together watching joey do lunges in all of chandler’s clothes.

(like this ^^^)

you were about halfway through a second episode when tommy interrupted.

“what the hell are you guys doing?”

you both looked up at the tired gremlin child.

“watching friends.” wilbur gave him a cheeky smile.

•••

“hello?”

“oh! uh, hello…?”

“oh it’s you, wilbur!” you spoke over your brother’s headset while he was in the bathroom.

“y/n? hi! what are you doing?”

“well tommy’s in the toilet so i wanted to see who he was talking to. turns out it’s you!”

wilbur let out a chuckle. “it’s me!”

“GET OUT OF MY BEDROOM!”

“uh oh, gotta go!” you threw down the headset before running for your life.

•••

“y/n, hang out with us!”

you stopped at the doorway, looking back at the group of boys all sitting on the floor. jack manifold, tubbo, and wilbur all stared up at you.

“no, y/n, get out of my room.” tommy spoke from his spot on the bed.

“aww, why can’t she stay?”

“yeah, tommy, don’t be a dick, man.”

“y/n, stay!”

“no, y/n, leave.”

you looked nervous, being pulled in two different directions, before ultimately deciding that you had other things to do.

“sorry guys, i should probably go.”

a chorus of disappointed groans and “aww”s left the group before you waved and closed the door behind you.

you went back to your room, deciding to give your brother his space despite your loneliness and boredom. you knew you’d want the same from him.

you decided to mess around with your ukulele to pass the time. you played your favorite song, singing along quietly. it wasn’t long before a knock on the door made you stop.

“come in.”

the door opened and none other than wilbur soot popped his head in.

“hey.”

“hey. tommy asked me to tell you to shut up, but i think you sound lovely.”

you turned slightly pink. “oh, uh, thanks. tell tommy i’m sorry and i’ll keep it down.”

“no need, he’s a prick anyway.” he made his way to where you sat on the bed, taking a seat next to you.

“what are you playing?”

you smiled and told him about how it was your favorite song by your favorite artist and you loved how fun it was. he requested you play a little bit for him, so you did. when you were done, you started to talk about it a little more.

at least until you realized he wasn’t listening. he was staring at your lips, leaning in. you followed suit.

the door burst open, causing you two to spring apart.

“wilbur, what the hell is taking so long? and what are you two doing in here with the door closed?”

wilbur smiled at tommy. “playing music, of course.”

tommy gave a skeptical look, dragging wilbur out of the room with a “keep it down, y/n!”

wilbur stopped at the doorway. “by the way, i quite like hanging out with you, y/n.”

•••

“your hands are so tiny!”

“they are not,” you gasped. “your hands are just huge, probably because you’re a giant of a man.”

wilbur laughed. “put your hand up,” he instructed. he touched his to yours gently, showing off the size difference.

you both giggled before stopping and looking into each other’s eyes. he gave you a gentle smile and slipped his fingers in between yours, interlocking them and holding your hand in his larger one.

you looked back at him and smiled.

•••

you knocked on the door three times, and he answered not long after.

“y/n? what are you doing here?”

“tommy thinks he left his sweater here and asked if i could drop by and pick it up on my way home.”

“oh yeah, one second.”

he disappeared for a moment before returning, holding your brother’s red hoodie. “here you go,” he said with a smile.

“thank you. sorry to bother you.”

“it’s no trouble. can i walk you home?”

you felt yourself heating up and smiled. “if you’d like.”

he nodded and grabbed his jacket. then you both started off toward the simons residence. you almost made it before it started raining.

it was light rain at first, so you carried on. however, it got heavier by the second, and pretty soon it was pouring on you two.

wilbur took off his jacket and held it above your heads. “we’re almost there, run!”

the two of you ran the rest of the way, only stopping once you got to your porch. you looked at each other for a moment, catching your breath. then you started laughing. you were both soaked and standing there like idiots, laughing at yourselves.

your laughter soon died down, and then you were just smiling at each other. he reached over to you and brushed a wet piece of hair behind your ear, getting it out of your face.

you weren’t stupid. you knew the look he was giving you was a lovestruck gaze, but you decided to play dumb.

“what?”

then finally it happened. after months of flirting and mutual pining, he closed the gap and kissed you. with his right hand on your face he crashed his lips to yours (a/n: that sounds violent but it’s not meant to be lol), pulling you closer with his left. you wrapped your arms around him, hands tangling in his hair.

passion mingled with desperation and you kissed long after you were breathless. you didn’t part until you heard a loud yell of disgust.

you instantly sprang apart with swollen lips and red faces.

“are you fucking kidding me? that’s my sister, man!” tommy yelled, glaring at wilbur.

he then looked to you. “and you, kissing my best mate?!”

you stood there shocked for a moment before coming to your senses.

“uhhh, I wasn’t kissing, were you kissing?” you said, turning to wilbur and praying to god he caught on to your obvious lie.

“no, i wasn’t kissing.” he shook his head.

“neither was i! see, no kissing here.”

“i’m not stupid,” said tommy, voice low and angry as opposed to the shock and disgust from before. “i saw everything.”

he then turned and walked away from the door, leaving you two alone again.

a moment of awkward silence passed. “i should probably… you know.” you said, pointing to the house.

“oh yeah, no, definitely.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“and look, i’m sorry if i ruined your friendship with tommy. i know you guys are close, and i hope he forgives you.”

he gave you a sad smile. “same here, love.” he then kissed your cheek and took off into the rain once more.

you went inside and tried fixing things with tommy, who refused to speak to you. after sitting outside his bedroom door for nearly an hour, you finally gave up and headed back into your room. you opened discord.

[your username]: tommy’s ignoring me. i’ve just sat outside his room for an hour and he refuses to talk to me.

WilburSoot: i’ll give it a go.

he did not speak to wilbur. tommy left him on read every time.

•••

tommy avoided you entirely for two weeks. he left the room if you walked in, and he wouldn’t speak to you at the dinner table. your mother was curious what was going on between you two, but neither of you would say anything about it.

finally, you’d had enough.

you asked your mother to call tommy out of his room, since he wouldn’t answer if you were to try. she did, just wanting you two to speak again. once he arrived in the living room, you jumped him. you grabbed him around the middle and threw him on the couch, planting yourself on top of him so he couldn’t run away. your mum left the room.

“hey, you asshole, get off of me!”

“no, tommy! enough is enough! you’re not leaving until you hear me out!”

“no, i don’t want to talk to you!”

“too bad because i’m not moving until you hear what i have to say! i don’t want us to keep avoiding each other like this.”

he went silent and thought about it for a moment, an angry and skeptical look on his face. “…fine. get it over with.”

you took a deep breath.

“tommy, you’re my little brother, and i love you. i’ll always love you, even when you hate me. just know that i never meant to hurt you or make you angry. however… you can’t tell me how to live my life, or who i can be with. i want to be with wilbur. i can’t help it, tommy, i love him. you can be happy for me or not, that’s your choice. but what isn’t your choice, is who i love.”

by the end of your speech, your voice was shaking and your eyes were watery. you got off of tommy and helped him sit up.

his face softened. “you… you love him?”

your tears ran down your cheeks. you nodded. “i do.”

tommy sighed before pulling you into a hug. it was rare for him to show affection, especially to you, but after everything that happened between the two of you, he felt it was important.

“i love you, y/n. you’re my sister, i could never hate you. i’m happy for you. but just know, best mate or not, i’ll castrate him if he makes you sad.”

you laughed, wiping away your tears.

“i should… probably speak with wilbur, yeah?”

you nodded. tommy stood and went back to his room. you followed not long after, and even though you knew it was frowned upon, you stopped to listen at his door.

“tommy, thank god you’re speaking to me. listen, man, i–”

“do you love her, wilbur?”

“what?”

“my sister. do you love her?”

“i– yeah. yeah, i do.”

“good. listen, all i want is for y/n to be happy. meaning if you make her cry, i’ll murder you.”

wilbur chuckled on the other line, making you smile.

“you won’t have to worry about that. i promise you i’ll take care of her.”

“just don’t make my sister cry and don’t be gross in front of me, alright big man?”

“you’ve got yourself a deal, tommyinnit.”

you smiled again before heading off in the direction of your room.

[foli-vora]

more than words - pt.1

A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.

“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”

“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”

“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”

You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”

He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”

He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”

You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”

This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.

Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.

You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.

He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.

“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”

“Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”

Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”

“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”

“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.

“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.

He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”

You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.

You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

… what?

“Come again?”

“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”

“Your age?”

“Bit older.”

You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.

“I don’t know, Ben –”

He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.

Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”

You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

+

“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”

Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”

“Where you been hiding her?”

“She moved away – only came back late last year.”

Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”

Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”

His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”

Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”

Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.

“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.

He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”

Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”

Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”

Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.

“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”

“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”

“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”

“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”

Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.

“… alright.”

Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”

Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.

Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?

+

Tags: @anu-simps​

[neonnoir-ao3]

Some Words of Comfort.

Recently, I’ve seen a lot of people (especially those who have read spoilers/are actively searching for leaked content) lament about their future reactions to the deaths of our beloved characters in-game.

We all knew this was inevitable, and that them living was not an option for the plot of the game, but the time has finally come to face it head-on.

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I understand that someone outside this community might be like “it’s just a game”, but I know it’s way more than that to many: the concept of a female villain that, to many, can be seen as sympathizable and even endearing, is a bit of a new concept— especially on such a large scale as this instance.

In addition, Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters have become a bit of a comfort item for some (with an emphasis on sapphics/wlw, from what I’ve seen personally) in the form of a large, protective, and caring hypothetical partner, or even just a maternal character one can appreciate simply because of her love for her children. Regardless, most of us are here due to some desire for comfort.

Take my own story with this community, for example:

(tws for death, covid, suicide, and general medical emergencies)

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Frankly, 2020 and the beginning of 2021 have ruined me. I lost two men who were the only two positive father figures I’ve ever had. The last of the two tested positive for covid and deteriorated within days, to the point where less than a week after testing positive, my family was making the choice to pull the plug. This all occurred days before Christmas and my birthday. On the first day of the spring semester, having not had the time to properly mourn my grandfather, my mother is in the ER for multiple days with an internal infection that doctors said likely would have turned septic if she had waited to come in any longer. This led to three surgeries throughout the next few months. (Oh, and one of my relatives quite literally dropped dead on that first day of class, too). I am also estranged from one of my parents, and they have been trying to contact my family: they have multiple untreated mental illnesses (severe NPD, bipolar, and more) and they are extremely aggressive in that state of mind and they are agitated extremely easily. That only brings more stress, along with resurfacing trauma and related emotions. Every moment of every day has been a struggle. So much so that I failed half of my classes voluntarily simply because I couldn't do them anymore.

To be perfectly honest with you, I didn’t expect to be here right now. I expected that the pain of simply moving forward would have finally overridden my fears of death and that I would have already ended my suffering by now.

Then, in late January, I saw something trending on Twitter. About a new female villain in an upcoming horror game. And it went from there.

As cheesy as it sounds, this fandom and its content seriously saved my life. In the darkest of days, I’ve come to this tag for comfort. The oddest way I found said comfort was through those who were attracted to Alcina aesthetically. I have extremely long-term trauma related to being bullied and being the victim of a hybrid catfishing/'Oreo Game' on early social media by peers in middle school to the point where I do not think of myself as being able to be loved, let alone being worthy of it. Finding this community not only provided a great form of escapism (and opened a door into a fantasy world where I could imagine my own person vampire milf gf), but also gained a little bit of self-esteem (as many of you know, I share a lot of visual qualities with Alcina. -yes, I'm still kinda freaked out about it-) via seeing people where features/attributes like mine were actively praised and desired rather than insulted and pushed away like they have been until now.

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(okay sorry that kinda turned into a trauma dump but I needed to emphasize the fact that this community has seriously helped me during a really dark point in my life, and I know I can't be the only one with that sort of experience)

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What I’m trying to get across here is that, like many others, this community and its content have been comforting and therapeutic, and it really is more than just a game to us. It’s entertaining and even a form of escapism in these extremely trying times. We all have some degree of PTSD from surviving a literal mass plague— and this is something we're using as a method of coping. a distraction. a coping mechanism.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With that being said, here are some ways to hopefully assist in lessening the emotional stress:

(please note that I am not a mental health professional and these may not be healthy coping mechanisms for everyone.)

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Understand that it’s just a game.

I know, this sounds completely counterintuitive, but it’s more or less about keeping your level of immersion down. Personally, I can’t do scary shit in general: I have to listen to music on low volume while watching dark ARG vids at night or when I’m alone because I get too into it, and then my paranoia kicks in. Sometimes just pausing for a moment and grounding yourself/reminding yourself that this is a video game: a jumble of code and 3D rendering that doesn’t have to affect your views/headcanons if you don’t want it to. Did your favorite character just get slaughtered? Nope, that 3D rendering of them just got un-alived, that’s all.

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Ignorance is Bliss/We are the Captain Now

Simple: Capcom can’t even pronounce Dimitrescu right, or even acknowledge the way it’s correctly said in Romanian culture itself. How can you trust them to give you a perfect canon? That’s the thing: with that logic, you can’t. What they say is true means little (if anything, for that matter) to your headcanons and preexisting ideas of the Dimitrescus. In short: fuck ‘em.

I’m currently seeking a double major in pop culture, and one of the cool things I’ve learned so far is affirmational vs transformational fandom. Affirmational is where official canon is seen as the law of the land, and followed to a T. Transformational is seen as much more inviting for audiences, allowing them to bend canon as they wish to fit their own creations. This fandom is obviously transformational, so take that game canon, rip it up, and get back to whatever you were doing.

Capcom’s canon is not the end-all, be-all. Far from it, actually.

Want to still acknowledge canon? Godmod your way out of it.

Character A died? It’d be a shame if they emerged from the rubble they 'died in' a few hours later, very beaten but alive nonetheless... how awful would it be if they sulked away, nursed their wounds, and continued to live... (/s)

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Ignore it completely.

Remember: give it time. Once the game drops, there w be a wave of grief, but eventually, we as a community will recover, and get back to business as usual. Think about it like the in any way. Stay with the version in your head that makes you happy.

Get Creative!

If you're into creating fanart, writing fics, or even just posting a list of headcanons, take some advice from the late Carrie Fisher: "Take your broken heart, and make it into art". Make the fluff oneshot of your dreams! Draw the fanart you've been wanting to! dump lighthearted headcanons into the tags! Not only will it cheer you up, but sharing it with the community will spread the love!

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I know a lot of people are struggling with this emotionally (especially with the pandemic making entertainment like this even more important sources of escapism and coping mechanisms) and I hope that, at the very least, I was able to help comfort one person who reads this.

Remember: give it time. Once the game drops, there will be a wave of grief, but eventually, we as a community will recover, and get back to business as usual. Think about it like the flowers that bloom after major wildfires: after a period of loss, some beautiful can still come of it.

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💙

[nothing-but-dreamy]

REGRET

Pairing: FFXV! NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 2.416

Warnings: hurt - comfort; some small cursing

Summary: Nyx dates you for you eight months and everything seems good. At least, you think that. Therefore, you're shocked as Nyx breaks up with you.

Nyx broke up with you because of reasons but ... was it really the right decision? And might his friends be helpful to knock some sense into Nyx?

Nyx watched how you danced through the kitchen. Soft music was playing from hidden loudspeakers. With a low voice, you hummed along while preparing two cups of hot chocolate. For eight months, Nyx dated you. You were pure joy, the kindest person Nyx had ever met. You cared for him in a beautiful way. You gave him the feeling to be something special. To be valuable. There was no time you weren't there for him. You had been able to soothe the pain he was carrying in a loving, self-less way.

"We have to stop this.", Nyx said low but serious and almost feared you hadn't heard him as you didn't react.

But you had heard him. Frowning, you turned over to the man who stood in the middle of your apartment, "We have to stop- what?", you asked, confused even if you already had an odd feeling spreading through your body as you saw Nyx' serious expression.

"This. Between us. I can't do this anymore- well... I could but I don't want it anymore.", Nyx said while looking you straight in the eyes.

"Y-you wanna break up with me?", you considered that it might be some cruel kind of a joke but the longer Nyx stayed silent, the less funny it became, "Nyx? You scare me. What is going on?", you asked, stepping forward, reaching for him.

But Nyx stepped back, drawing his brows together, "I told you what is going on. I'm leaving you. Now. We… Sure, we had some fun together but… it's not enough. You are not enough for me."

Your blood ran cold by his emotionless voice. The soft blue eyes you loved so much resembled more sharp diamonds, "I- I don't understand. Nyx, where does this come from? Have I done something wrong?"

"No. I mean, yes! It's not one thing you have done. It's everything you do. To be with you gives me nothing. I'm bored having you around.", he continued his merciless honesty.

Tears were brimming in your eyes, almost spilling out of them, "No… you can't mean that.", you whispered helplessly, feeling your heart breaking into tiny pieces while a voice told you that his words were just lies. Even the way Nyx looked at you, told you that there was more than he said. He wasn't telling the truth but you had no idea why he tried to hurt you then, "Tell me the truth. What is really going on?", you asked.

Nyx stared at you, blinking several times because he couldn't believe what he heard, "Damn, I had no idea how stupid you are! I told you what is going on. I'm leaving you. I don't have to explain anything. Don't call me or stuff like this. Just … forget me.", he said, grabbing his jacket and leaving your apartment without looking back for one second.

You stared at the closed door, motionless. Just one single, hot tear was escaping your eyes, rolling down your cheek, leaving behind a trail of sadness on your skin.

***

Three days had passed since the last time Nyx had seen you. Three days since all the things he had said to you. You, the most precious and important miracle that ever happened to him. You, whose eyes would forever haunt him. Day and night. His nightmares were nothing compared to the shock and the sadness he had seen in your face because of the words he had chosen to hurt you.

Nyx was awake for seventy-two hours straight. Trying to drown his guilt and sorrow with alcohol but no matter how much he drank, Nyx couldn't get your tears-filled eyes out of his mind. Or the way you had tried to reach out for him. The TV blurted some nonsense. It was nothing more than background noise. He couldn't focus on anything around him because you always came back to his mind.

Therefore, Nyx needed several minutes to realize that the dull knocking sound came from his own door. Slightly swaying, Nyx crossed his small, one room apartment to answer the door. He already expected to see you. That, even if he had said you should stay away from him, you would ignore him. Somehow, Nyx hoped you had come to see him.

But instead, Crowe and Libertus stood in front of a tired looking Nyx. His hair was tousled and all in all, he looked miserable, "Wow… you look…", Libertus said, searching for the right words.

But Crowe was faster. She pushed past Libertus, "You look like shit.", she said. As she spotted all the empty bottles, she added: "And you smell horrible."

Nyx crossed his arms over his chest, "Are you done with insulting me?", he said, turning around to let himself fall into his armchair.

With a stern expression, Crowe followed Nyx while Libertus opened a window for some fresh air before he looked at his best friend, "Spit it out. What is going on?"

"YN left me. That's going on. I'm just trying to deal with this. Problem?", Nyx hissed and glared at his two friends.

Crowe frowned, looking skeptical, "YN... left you…", she asked doubtfully, "And when?"

"What day is it?", Nyx asked, noticing that he had kinda lost track of time.

"Friday.", Libertus answered serious.

"Oh, then three days ago or so-"

"Or so? Nyx!"

"What?", Nyx snapped, looking at Crowe with gleaming eyes, "They left me, ok? They said they couldn't do this anymore with me being a Glaive. And I don't blame them.", he said angrily while taking the next bottle of booze, "And now, if you don't wanna drink with me, I would be thankful if you two leave me alone."

Crowe and Libertus waited a moment but they saw that there was no way to discuss anything with him. So, they left Nyx alone with his self-destructive behavior. At least, for a little while.

On the street, Crowe stemmed her fists into her sides, "You believe what he said? That YN left him?", she asked Libertus.

He shook his head, "Not for one second."

***

But no matter how often one of his friends asked, Nyx stuck to his story: you had left him after eight months because the life with a Glaive wasn't what you wanted. You wanted more. You needed more stability and mostly, you didn't want a life where you always feared for Nyx' life.

So, one day, Crowe and Libertus walked to Nyx who was busy polishing his Kukris while looking tired like every day during the past two weeks.

Nyx noticed the two well-known shadows towering above him, "What is it now?", he asked, annoyed, without looking up.

"We watched you long enough and this has to end!", Crowe said.

Nyx was about to answer but the siren interrupted him and the others. A new attack by Niflheim troops killed this unwanted conversation before it even started.

*

While getting ready for action, Crowe watched Nyx. From the outside, he seemed to be composed and calm, dressing his combat clothes and putting his Kukris into the right spots but she knew the difference. She saw his wild eyes that told her that some kind of storm was raging inside of him. She just wasn't sure how this storm could break through: if Nyx would just let off some steam or if he would do something stupid.

Slowly, she walked over to Libertus and Pelna, "Hey, guys, do me a favor when we're on the battlefield. Look out for Nyx."

Pelna frowned, "You think he's not ready to fight?"

"Oh, trust me. Nyx will fight. I just fear he could do something stupid."

*

And somehow, Crowe should have been right with her assumption. While she was busy with the other female Glaives to create a thunderstorm to destroy some of the Niflheim ships, Libertus was fighting on the ground against upcoming waves of demons. Pelna fought on his right side while Nyx on his left.

It was a hell of a battle and everyone was busy but at the same time, Libertus kept an eye on Nyx as he had promised. But as Libertus checked Nyx' position once again, his friend was gone. Quickly, Libertus called Pelna over to him and together, they searched for Nyx.

"Over there! Is he suicidal or what?", Pelna asked as he watched how Nyx tried to fight against a bunch of ass-kicking demons at the same time. One demon aimed for Nyx without his knowledge and both, Pelna and Libertus, feared the worst.

"We have to do something. He has to get out of there or he will get killed!", Libertus called out over the ear-piercing sound of an explosion some distance away.

"I will warp me to him, help him to fight.", Pelna said, threw his knife to Nyx' position and fought against the last few remaining demons.

As the field was clear, Libertus ran over to Nyx, grabbing him by his uniform jacket to push him against the next half broken wall, "Stop this shit!"

"What? Doing my job?", Nyx hissed, pushing Libertus away from him with a glaring expression.

Libertus kept Nyx' glance, "No! You try to get killed! Since you left YN, you're more reckless than ever before."

"I told you YN left me!", Nyx called out, ignoring the next explosion which covered everyone in dust and debris.

Libertus stepped forward, towering above his childhood friend, "You weren't really thinking that I believed that for one second, right? Crowe neither. YN would never leave you like that! Unlike you, they are sure how they feel for you. YN already loves you too much to leave you! And that's why you left them with some flimsy excuses, am I right? Because you’re too scared to admit your feelings you have for them.", Libertus hissed angrily.

Nyx' eyes flickered back and forth between Libertus' eyes. He swallowed thickly before he tried it again, "N-no… YN... They said they couldn't do this anymore-"

For a quick moment, Libertus lost his temper and punched Nyx right in the face so Nyx' head snapped to the side before Libertus grabbed Nyx by his collar again, "Don't lie to me ever again! YN spoke with me. They told me what you have said to them! And you know what? They weren't even crying because they knew that everything was just a lie! YN knew that you did it to push them away from you!"

Nyx felt how the guilt was back in charge about what he had done to you. There was no excuse in this world that would ever be enough for what he had said, "But I... I...", he whispered weakly.

Libertus let go of Nyx, staring at him with a stone cold expression, "We will end this damn mission! Alive! All of us! And then, you apologize and go back to YN!"

***

It was raining for hours and you were just making a cup of hot, delicious chocolate as someone knocked. As you opened the door, curious who it would be for such an hour, a dripping wet Nyx stood in front of you, looking like a kicked puppy with his long hair clutching to his face.

He still wore his Glaive battle uniform, coming straight from a mission. Libertus and Crowe had made sure that he went to you. He still had dirt and dust in his face, a few scratches were crossing his skin while the rain water was dripping onto the floor of the hallway. His eyes were red-rimmed and all in all, he looked more tired and worn out than you had ever seen him before.

Nyx' heart hammered in his chest as he saw your eyes holding a caring glance while you looked at him patiently, "I- I'm sorry-", he breathed, shaking with coldness and a tear filled voice. He wanted to say more. He wanted to apologize for everything but he got cut off as you just pulled him to you for a strong embrace with your arms firmly snaking around his neck.

Nyx immediately snuggled into the crook of your neck with his nose, shaken by sobs while inhaling your warm, familiar scent. Your body heat enclosed him and within one second, he felt back home again. The emptiness and darkness he had felt during the last days slowly vanished and got filled with warmth.

"Welcome home, hero.", you breathed lovely, raking your fingers through his soaked hair to soothe him.

"I don't deserve you.", he breathed against your skin, embracing you even stronger, clinging to you desperately in fear you could disappear.

"Well, maybe you're right... maybe you're wrong. But ... it doesn't matter. I just want you, Nyx.", you answered honestly.

Nyx leant back, slowly cupping your face with his shaking, cold hands to stare into your eyes he had missed so much, "But why? Just why? I'm a mess. I could die so easily and I don't wanna put you through this pain because you would miss me... So, why god damnit do you want me?"

You nudged Nyx' nose with your own, "Because you're wonderful. Nyx, I saw your real you. How caring you are. How lovely you can be. You're so soft and sweet to me. You're perfect. Even without admitting it, you love me so much and I try to give you as much as I can back because you deserve it."

"And still, I tried to push you away...", he whispered, devastated about what he had done to you, about all the cruel things he had said.

"Yes, and you know, I understand why you did it. But, trust me, I would rather live a life in pain because I have lost you than to live one minute without having you in my life at all.", you swore solemnly.

Nyx couldn't stop the tears from running down his cheeks, "I'm so, so sorry.", he whispered and kissed you desperately because of the loyalty and unconditional love you showed him when he didn't even deserved it but when needed it the most.

You broke the kiss after the first sensation to have him back again. With closed eyes, you were slightly swooning and with a soft smile on your lips you said: "Come in. You have to get out of these wet clothes before you get sick. I also made some hot chocolate that will warm you up.", and with these words, you brought Nyx softly back into your apartment and into your life where he belonged.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (03x16)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 16: You Picked the Wrong Weakness

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: did someone just go and tell the otp about the otp?

Word Count: you know that feeling when you have had a bad experience on some project or assignment or homework before. And you know that thing is going to come around again next month or something like that. And you just age yourself by giving yourself anxiety by thinking everything that could go worse in that area. Yeah. So, I kinda shut that off for a few hours and wrote this.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The Interview Room The camera is recording empty seats as a pair of voices grow louder with every second. "...it's like they don't even care about what the other person wants!" "...no, why would they. These rich daddies and their rich egos think they are the only ones thinking about the world." The camera swivels a bit to watch Peter and Scott enter with a new guest following them with a Caprisun in their hand. Peter: And why did you have to go ahead and help them? Shuri: *sits between Scott and Peter* *takes a long sip of her 'sun* What. I'm not going to give up any opportunity that involves space and weird energy boxes. Peter: Why did your brother even agree to it?? Shuri: *shrugs* all your sugar daddy had to say was 'what if it was Shuri'. And my thicc-head of a brother lost it like a rhino in a mating challenge. Peter: *scrunches his nose at the example* Scott: Great *sigh* now we'll never get to see them together. With your brains, those dads are probably already in space now. Shuri: Not so fast! They don't have the codes to neutralise the pandora's box yet. Peter and Scott: *look at each other*  Shuri: So teleportation might be delayed as long as I am kept happy?  Peter: *takes out a notebook* Scott: *takes out his phone and a card labelled Avengers Black Card* The camera pans in on a smirking Shuri sipping on her Capri sun.

Inside a Spaceship: Destination Unknown You and Loki were captured by the little drone flying at the same speed as the spaceship (which clearly had seen some remodelling, thanks to your rainbow buddies). Both of you were staring at something in front of you that lids by your waist level- something the outside drone was not able to capture because of the limited view in the spaceship window. The expressions on your face were serious. So was the arms-crossed stance. "Are you sure it wasn't just a noise?" Loki now had a finger on his lips in deep thought as he heard your words. "I am pretty sure of what I heard," he acknowledged without missing a beat. "So-" your voice faded as your fingers twirled in the air with a mind of their own- "that means he has...another..." "You really can't say it?" Loki looked at you with a questioning brow going up quite smoothly. You tsked. "It's my baby," you mentioned while Javier's camera watched you point down at slumbering Lulu. "I cannot just casually say he might have another hole and I think he farted through it. I cannot hurt my baby's feelings!" Loki scoffed. "Your baby's sleeping." "He still has ears." "You think he understands what a fart means?" "What do you think I've been teaching him when you, me or Javi pass the gas?" Loki's casual demeanour suddenly changed to an offended one. "I beg your pardon?" You were quick on your feet, already walking towards the front of the ship. "So, where exactly are we heading now? Aellae's next of kin? Though I find it hard to imagine she would have left your essence with anyone other than herself." Loki came and sat next to you, still pissed at that comment in those narrowed eyes. "I am going to circle back to your words-" he inhaled while you acted all innocent- "and no. We are not looking for anyone related to that witch." "Then are we looking for another one of your exes?" "No, we are n-" Loki stopped short, his lips right in a thin line as he stared at you. "Why are you so interested my exes?" You simply shrugged and raised your brows. "On the contrary, it seems your exes are still pretty interested in you." That casual expression turned into a familiar judgment as your head turned to look at him. "Though I wonder what did they find so-" you hands moved haphazardly- "interesting about you." Loki swivelled his captain seat towards you, locking your legs between his while grounding your armrests with his hands. Clicking the control button on your armrest, he moved your chair a bit closer to him, his face in close proximity to yours. Javier's camera panned in on the gulp moving down your throat while your eyelids did a flutter at this uncalled movement. The 4K caught those goosebumps rising right where his arm barely grazed yours and in the background, Lulu played an arousing violin piece. "Something you can only dream about, darling," he whispered. The violin picked up the charge in the air within its quick clean high notes. The only noise leaving you was the escape of the air stuck in your throat, shivering on its way out. "Of c-" you cleared your throat. trying to sit back up in your seat- "of course I can only fantasize. The reality makes me want to puck. Ugh!"

Loki: Y/N thinks space is all fun and games. What she does not realise is that just like earth, this universe too has an underworld. Ten times in size and twenty times as brutal. And Aellae was just the tip of the filthy iceberg. *camera zooms in on his tensed features* looks into the distance* Wonder who else she told about her. *looks back* *blinks* I'm taking her somewhere we can lie low for now. *rolls eyes* that is if she understands what lying low means. *sighs* 

You: *eating bread like a peasant famished for days* Hm? What? No *shakes head* 'm nod nerbous. *takes another bite* debinidly nod becoz o doki. He wash jus playing wee me. *viciously bites into the bread* *growls and buries head in your lap* 

"I am still telling you to ask for their help. It's not too late," you suggested in a composed manner, sitting in the co-pilot seat. "I am not calling seven alien boys just because you have a fetish for Korean pop bands." You thwacked his leg with yours. "I do not! And don't you dare talk shit about k-pop." Loki chuckled. "Why? What are going to do?" "I won't. But you know what k-pop fans are like, don't you?" The smile on Loki's face suddenly started to flicker away as he looked at the camera. "Remember that Vegas trip?" Clearing his throat, he adjusted himself on his seat, while you shared a devilish smirk with the camera. "We're going somewhere safe. Where I have a chance of getting my powers back and hopefully a gateway back to earth." You sat up. "Why didn't we go there in the first place?" Loki blinked, not really answering. You and the camera noticed the tension in his jaw. "It's not a place I like to talk about." The asteroid belt cleared in front of the spaceship to show the part of a planet covered in grey clouds shadowing frozen blue mountains and dark valleys. "Jotunheim," you whispered to yourself, letting the gloomy yet majestic scenery of the place reflect in your eyes. “Loki,” all humour in your voice seemed to dilute as you looked back at home, “we don’t have to go there. We-uh...we could go to one of Peter’s hideouts? Or maybe we could call the Boys and ask them to direct us to one of their safe places? You know, till we find a lead on your essence.” A smirk built upon the God's lips. "Is that concern I hear in your voice?" Those worry-laden brows suddenly dispersed all emotion to make way for anger. A slap made way from your hand to his right side of the back. The thwack was loud enough to wake Lulu and force a sincere 'ow' from the God's throat. "This concern is for me and my babies you awful animal," you growled, your voice considerably higher, "you think they'll survive there?"

Jotunheim If the mountains seemed to carry an eerie aura about them, the valleys were a straight suggestion of being pits straight to hell. To add to the effects of arriving at the gates of hell, the snow falling was harsh, to say the least. As soon as the door to the ship opened to let all the passengers feel the heat, the drone travelling outside took in travellers covered in thick fur. Javier carried Lulu on his front, both of them visible just with their faces- not to mention the former's blue eyes standing out over everything else in his surroundings. Loki too embraced the thick skin, looking quite the part of a Jotun till he picked up the hood of your coat to put it over your head without saying much; only smiling when you looked like a fluffed up birb in that Viking overcoat.

Loki: *smiling sheepishly**looks at you standing next to him* Angry birb *looks back at Javier's camera* Sam taught me that one. *camera pans at you simmering under that fur*

Lulu had already picked the background music for his pack's entrance. The Viking beat had just the right amount of weight and horror of the unknown in it as this place did. Just ahead of the pass lay the structure carved in the mountain itself. It could be called a palace or a temple. But that was not what sought your attention.  Eyes. The camera caught eyes in the dark staring at the unwanted guests. Blue. Piercing. Murderous. And more than one pair. The drone panned in on that one subconscious movement of your fingers gripping the fur of the coat on Loki's back as the God walked gallantly- as if he owned the planet. But your eyes did not stop to observe the alien movement around you. "Remember-" Loki's whisper brought you out of the daze your own thumping heart was creating for you- "do not show them your fear. Show them that you are to be feared." It may have been his words or just his voice that started to melt the fear visible on your features, lasting for five seconds before a loud thump vibrated the land beneath your feet, making you all come to a stop. And when that was not enough, the audience saw the feet first, then the legs and then the whole length of a Jotun appearing before them. Some necks were really going to feel it tonight.

"Who dares enter the land of Jotunheim?" came the thundering and low growl from the Jotun that stood towering over you all. "The one who is alive and stands on this land," Loki announced, "with the blood of Laufey in my veins, I have come to claim what is mine." There was nothing but an uninviting smirk on the Jotun's face. "I am Loki, son of Laufey, son of Odin, ruler of Asgard and your King," he commanded with ice in his voice, "and you...need to bow...before your King." The dead silence proceeding his threat of a speech was enough for you nearly bury you inside your own overcoat. And when that did not seem enough, your body- on its own- moved a step closer to Loki's side. "Oooooh Gooood," you whispered with quite the shudder while your face was plastered with a no-fucks-given wave, "we're gonna die." On the contrary, the silence was followed by many Jotuns coming out of the shadows to surround your group one by one before bowing down. Even the ones who looked quite young did the same. All of them except for the one Jotun who had greeted you first. "Allir fagna konungi!" they chanted in unison. "All hail the king," Javier translated it for you. "Didn't know you were into Nords," you quipped, "the language, I mean." "Honey, I am all into Nords," he signed before looking around with a smile, finding a buff Jotun that caught his eye. He did not take another second to blink at him and leave that giant a bit confused and flustered at the same time.

Inside the Palace The throne was sculpted out of ice that seemed as old as the mountain. Alongside it had been made seating arrangements for the family, running parallel till the doors of the throne room, all greyish blue stones marked with Jotun carvings. You and Javier believed they might be names of dignitaries. Lulu thought they are just doodles by other babies and proceeded to contribute to the stone they were standing next to. A little female giant sat down and looked at Lulu's doodles with curious wide eyes. Loki stood rightfully in front of his throne, admiring it before turning to his subjects, most of them adults who were exceptionally taller and blue-er than him. The drone captured the magnificence of the throne room that had fire pits next to the seats at intervals right alongside the stone pillars and right in the middle, a few feet in front of the king. But none of them were lit. And the giants were visibly annoyed by the drone while the kids wanted to catch it and play with it. "An Asgardian announces himself as our King," the one giant growled as he stood at the steps of the throne, "why would we believe you to be our King, son of Odin." He nearly spat the last part. The drone captured that bit of concern breaking out on your composed features but Loki just smirked. Pulling his overcoat to the side- as magnificently as he believed himself to be- he sat down as if he has done it ever since he was born. The authority exuding from his presence certainly put the murmurs going around the hall to a standstill. "At ease, Helblindi," he stressed to the giant with a purr and directed the rest of the audience to take their place. "Not you." Everyone stopped short to looked at their king. And he was clearly looking at you. You pointed a finger at yourself in question. "Don't you know your place....pet?" he commanded ever so slyly, discreetly pointing his finger at the stone next to his throne.

You: *look around to make sure no one's looking at you* *anger about to explode through your eyes* *whispering* Pet?? PET?? I swear gonna just *gestures to grab the air* grab his throat and *punches the said air repeatedly in her palm*  *camera pans out to focus on three baby giants looking at you in pure horror before their mother carries them away murmuring something* *camera swivels to show Javier looking disappointed* Javier: *signs* she said 'stay away from the crazy human'. *sighs* *shakes his head*

“Come-“ Loki’s fingers gestured at you to come over to that stone couch of a thing next to him- “sit.” Taking a breath to compose your usual embers of rage at that comment, you smiled and walked up the stairs to stand next to him. The camera recorded the little gracious bow you gave the God but not before your back was to the spectators and you signalled an insult with your middle towards him, nearly making him chuckle. And with one heavy inhale, you sat down next to him, clearly not at the same level as him. “Is this what Lulu feels like?” “I would’ve made Lulu sit in my lap,” Loki acknowledged with a smirk. “You’re welcome to join me anytime but for now-“ he adjusted himself on his seat and raised his voice to address the court- “let us have a feast tonight and raise our mugs in union of the Jotun king and his subjects.” Helblindi scoffed and spat on the floor. Loki did not look but he was surely observing his every move. “In union of an excuse of a giant who does not even resemble-“ “I would like you to stop there my brother-“ Loki announced as he got up, letting the whole room take one united gasp at the scene- “before you start regretting your own words.” You blinked at the reactions to turn and look at Loki. Now the lights from the ceiling did a stupendous job of catching the widening of your eyes while your pupils were dilated in an emotion only known to you when you witnessed- for the first time in your life- Loki's skin change its shade and features. The flawless paleness gave way to a blue so deep over those arms he rarely displayed in public. The colour ran up his neck as well, covering him all the way. And along with this shade came ridges on his skin which apparently every Jotun had; running up his face and down his limbs. Those smaragdines and whites around them were now replaced with red. “This Jotun-“ his voice was low, but with enough weight that it echoed to the last corner of the room- “has seen enough lives to know what is hatred and what is fear. So next time you try to question my right, Helblindi, know that I have no qualms in exploiting them in a way which seems necessary for me.” Helbindi did not seem to stand his ground much now. Not after a few Jotuns who stood up to speak against the giant who had been torturing them for a while with his reckless and greed-ridden laws. Javier's camera was stuck on your reaction in the middle of this mild chaos. Your parted lips, wide eyes, stare lingering all over the God's body, your throat feeling the urge to swallow the dryness; it really was a sight, an emotion that many fanfiction artists would want to take inspiration from. Loki- who was smirking at the warm welcome he was receiving through the roar against his brother- turned around to look at you. His smirk disappeared and his usually focused gaze was interrupted with those unsure blinks at your features. Before he could explain himself, one giantess blocked his way to you with a bow. "We have prepared the Bath for you and your companions, your grace," she announced, still with her head held low. His gaze was running between you and her. To make it easier for him, you got up from your seat and walked down to the giantess who wanted to show you, Javier and Lulu to the Bath. "Nandi," Loki finally looked at the giantess. "Yes, your grace." "I need you to choose four of your most loyal companions to guard them." "They are all ready to escort your companions where you please." Loki smiled at Nandi. "I owe it to your mother to protect you, your Grace, like she protected me and my children." "My mother had a loyal friend in you," the God appreciated before walking down the throne and away from the crowd. The drone followed him.  The graceful composure of the God crumbled like a dry sand castle as soon as the doors closed behind him and he was alone in the icy corridors. His pace got faster by the second, his eyes searching everywhere. "This isn't fair, you know." Loki stopped at the echo of your voice. The pause of one breath, and he knew where to turn to find you standing in the shadows. Javier stood by the pillar next to you two with his camera, capturing this strange tick on Loki's features. You stepped out of the shadows, your gaze uninterrupted, looking right at those red eyes. "Do you know the amount of chaos it would create on earth if people knew that you look like..." "Like what? A monster?" Loki's voice was heavy. "Nah don't say i-dammit! Now I cannot stop imagining the term monsterfuckers." Loki blinked. His brows furrowed at you ever so slightly. "I mean-" you sighed with frustration- "was it not enough that you looked like a literal God in a human form that you had to now go and reveal that you are one buffed up alien? Look at you? You are one breath away from starting a cult of monsterfuckers! Do you realise that? Look at-" you grabbed that one barely naked blue arm and tried to squeeze it- "this firm, cold, arm that is people are going think about in-" you tried to breathe, your gaze still stuck on his shoulder- "their bed at night. God, why do have to be so-" you pointed at all of him with a frustration-filled, longing look of...disgust- "you." By now Loki was raising his brows in question and shifting his gaze between himself and you, clearly confused by your reaction. It even seemed he was a bit flustered at one point. You winced, looking at his body again. Your eyes followed the ridges on his face to his neck, plunging down his v neck t-shirt. With a frown you turned hastily, flinging your body involuntarily in the direction of the bath. "I bet they go all the way down," you whispered to yourself in between your sobs and walked away.

Loki: *still stands there* *blinks* *looks at the camera* what...*looks in her direction* *looks back* *does this two more times* what just happened?

The Resting Chambers: Next Day One of Javier's drones followed you from the balcony you were standing in to witness the first light of the nearest star in this frozen land. The snow-clad mountains were a majestic sight in their own stature. Even the smile emanating under the warmth of the star could not deny that. The giggles coming from inside the room broke the sweet hum of sync you were having with the weather, walking back in to find Skandi and Kolga, Nandi's daughters setting up the table with Jotunheim's specialities- snowberries, Kruweed- fresh seaweed from the frozen lake- and Lulu's favourite, spiked abalones. "What are you girls snickering about?" Lulu was already jumping on the table to sniff everything placed for his liking. Once he had inspected every single item, he went over to his bowl of abalones.

"Nothing," Skandi cooed, "just discussing how Loki-" Kolga elbowed her sister to correct herself- "how his Grace, keeps looking at you." Your hands paused for a fraction of a second near your mouth before the snowberry found its way in your mouth. "Look at me how?" "He looks at you as if you might vanish any second if he does not keep his eye on you," Kolga added, sitting down next to you. Her face had gentle tones all over it. Her eyes seemed to sparkle whenever she talked to you. "Are you being punished for something?" It took you some time to realise she was genuinely curious. "What. No. Why would you think that?" "Because his grace keeps you under guard. I thought pets were kept in cages in Midgard." Skandi turned to Kolga with a gasp. "He caged her last night then?!" The camera captured your furrowed brows sitting there confused in between the sisters. You opened your mouth to speak but lost to Kolga. "You mean when he told off Helbindi that she will be sleeping in his quarters." Skandi nodded vigorously. "He could not have kept her in a real cage." "Maybe he chained her to the bed." "Ah. So he could keep an eye on her at night." "Is that what happened, y/n?" You hid your face behind the mug of tea that did not seem to leave your lips while your free hand seemed to check your cheeks for their temperature. "This tea is good," your burned throat appreciated the drink. "He seems quite...what is the word... possessive of her," Skandi commented. You shared a look with the drone- your face devoid of any emotions. Kolga hummed in agreement, popping a snowberry in her mouth. "I thought Kruge would die last night by his hands." Now that seemed to catch your attention. "Kruge who?" "Helbindi's guard. The one who nearly pushed you into the wall last night." "When you went inside," Kolga continued, "his Grace took Kruge's staff and struck him in his limbs and threatened him to never touch you again if he wanted to stay alive." "Kruge should be glad he did not use his powers on him lest he would be a part of the dark pit's icicles by now." Kolga and Skandi stopped talked to watch you lost in deep thought while your hands scratched Lulu's back on their own, making the floof purr quite loud. "Is she making this little creature vibrate?" Skandi asked her sister in a whisper. "It looks like it," her sister whispered back in awe.

You: *whispering at Javier* What? No, it's okay. We can record here. No one can say anything. *sits on the stone seat in the gallery that seems empty to the camera* *adjusts hair* is it recording? Of course. It's always recording. *clears throat* *at normal tone* So, clearly...*inhales* *raises brows* things are barely standing still right now. And it is clearly not helping that Loki is having sudden urges to pick a fight with whoever bullies me. *Javier's drone catches him discreetly signing at you to lower your voice a bit* You: *irritated* I mean does he want me to get bullied more? Bullies are always going to pick on the weak one in the group for fuck's sake! And evidently, I am the weaker sex. *the camera catches a movement behind you, turning to focus on the source* You: and his highness does not seem to realise that it will be too easy for these giants to torture his weaknesses out of me. Does he not see that? *squints at Javier* what? The drone is recording Javier aggressively telling you to cut it out while looking pale as his gaze goes far behind you. You turn to look where his gaze is going. Javier's camera automatically focuses on Kruge standing next to the last pillar, throwing daggers in your direction through his bloody eyes for a moment before disappearing somewhere. You: *turn around with a shade lighter yourself* *the camera is panning over your face now as you look at it* *whispers* Fuck!

Five Minutes Later One of the drones buzzed against the ice that separated the balcony and the bedroom, tapping itself repeatedly on the transparent frost till the door to the room opened. It turned around to record you and Javier rush inside- the latter placing his camera in his bag and packing his stuff. "Okay, relax, relax!" you stressed to the hyperventilating boy. "We need to get out of here," he signed. "Javi, take three deep breaths? Yes? One? Two? Good. Three. Now think about it. As long as we are with Loki, no one will dare harm us. Okay? Not to mention he has allotted us our personal security team." Javier was on the verge of sobbing. "What about when Loki is not around. What will we do then?" "Javi, don't think like that," you nearly fumed at him. "Loki is in the throne room right now. You take the guards with you and go to him and when you find a window let him know what happened, okay?" Javier was still taking deep breaths while sweating through his fur coat. He nodded. "What about you?" "I...have Lulu." You pointed at the floof sleeping with his belly bared and his paws out. "I won't leave the room, don't worry." Once convinced you'll be fine, Javier hurried outside, leaving you in a silence only filled by light snores of your baby. The drone recorded you biting your lip and tying your hair up in a bun. "Okay," you whispered to yourself, "now we wait." It also recorded the sudden change in the shade of one section of the wall opposite to your back. With the focus still on you, the section of the wall appeared to open out, revealing the pitch blackness lit by a pair of red eyes. The next thing you knew, the drone was lying on the floor, its barely working lens recording your muffled screams and boots struggling to find the ground as a pair of blue feet walked past the lens before it went black.

One Hour Later The camera sat on the stone seat, recording the periodic tapping of Javier's foot from outside the frame. Loki still had audience. The Jotuns discussed every aspect of Jotunheim with the king. Loki sat patiently, listening to every word before advising them necessary steps. The majority was satisfied with the King's suggestions. Many were even in awe. There were a few who were dissatisfied no matter what the God mentioned. "Well-" Loki sat straight, addressing the whole court- "this concludes our day then." "Your grace," one giant bowed at the steps, "there are a few more issues that need your kind attention." Loki sighed, his hand resting on the armrest, his fingers running over his lips in thought. Not sure about Loki, but the camera recorded the patient that ran out of Javier. He got up from his seat, immediately catching the God's eye, who was quick to raise his fingers just for the boy to stop taking any further steps towards him.  "You have stalled me enough," the God acknowledged, catching the giant off guard. "Helbindi should know it better than anyone that a coup against me would be a futile attempt." Loki did not budge where he sat, just his finger drumming on the arm rest. "And I am in no mood for a mutiny."

.

The one drone who had been playing with the Jotun kids picked up the damage to a drone in the resting chambers. It buzzed through the halls, trying to pick up your trail, finding corridors and corners to fly through, walking down dark pathways with no windows and steep stairs spiraling deep into the mountains. On its way it found Lulu howling and meowing in a frantic daze, walking down the same path where he found your scent. And it seemed like he found you through the same dark pathway that ultimately reached an opening.  There was nothing but ice all around and in every form. A section of the mountain that opened to the outside with a catch. There were cells cut into this ice for prisoners. Shackles of cold metal rested in every cell. Each of them had metals bars to keep the captives in and an opening in the ice to keep any grain of warmth out. And to add to it all, this entire prison cell rested on a frost chunk hanging at the edge of the mountain. "Stop, please, you cannot do this!" Your voice and footsteps could be heard echoing through this section. The drone buzzed and landed on the wall to record the Kruge stripping you of your fur coat with a maniacal grin on his face. "Hey! HEY!! Give me back my coat!" Kruge stopped you from going for your coat by his hand coming for your throat. His grip made it hard for you to breathe as you struggled to get out of the hold, your nails trying their best to dig into that stubborn cold skin of his. Lulu ran and growled at the giant, scratching at his ankles till the latter kicked him away. "What do you want?" you barely managed to get out of your mouth. "We want Loki out of Jotunheim," he growled in your face, smacking your back in the ice wall behind you before letting go of your throat. You fell down with a thud and a groan, taking in as much air as your windpipe allowed. "Okay," you wheezed, "okay. You let me talk to Loki and I will convince him to leave Jotunheim. I promise. I pinky promise." You even raised your pinky. But Kruge was already closing the bars on you. Lulu ran and jumped through the bars to stop by your side, sniffing and crying, wanting to make sure you were okay. "No no no no," you crawled to the bars, trying to wrap your fingers around them but failing once your skin felt the vicious cold personally, "please don't do this. You have to stop. Now." "You said you know Loki's weakness," a voice boomed from the shadows where you had been dragged from. A very familiar and ominous voice. The drone turned to capture Helbindi stepping into the ice prison with a stature fit for kings. "His essence is lost. It is a secret no more, you quim." You looked at Lulu in confused defeat. "Why does it feel like he called me a whore?" you whispered. Lulu threw his own curses at the giant. "Listen, sir, Mr Helbindi," you began, "you want the throne, right? And I want to get out of here alive. How about I take Loki with me? You get back your kingly rights, I get my friends back and we go our separate ways. Everybody wins!" Helbindi came down on his knees in front of you. A smile rested on those cracked lips of his. His hand went past the bars- to your surprise- and landed on your cheeks. Your gaze kept shifting between his eyes and his hand while your body tried to move away from his hold. But he was one stubborn bastard. "He must have kept you alive for a reason." Helbindi was talking to himself now. His thumb rubbed against your skin, something that was visibly making you uncomfortable. "Ah...he keeps you to satisfy his nightly needs." You pushed yourself away from Helbindi, only to be forced into the bars by his hold around your skull; his chuckle resonating through the prison. "Do not worry my little whore," he whispered right in your ear while his icy breath ran over your skin, "you will be my pet soon. And unlike Loki-" he licked your cheek with his tongue, driving you mad with disgust- "I prefer violence even in my chambers." Your breaths were shallow. A single tear falling from your eyes as you did you best to maintain your features. "You are making a grave mistake," you whispered through your teeth. Lulu tried to claw at Helbindi too but Kruge was already kicking him away, earning a death stare from you. The giant struck his nail in your throat, driving it deep till there was blood. "The only mistake that was made was by you coming into my land. And you all will pay for it." Dropping you back into the snow, Helbindi got up and walked back into the darkness.

.

Loki watched the doors open to let Helbindi in, his gait ever so dominating as he walked past the judgmental eyes of every other giant in the court with his own little battalion following him, carrying weapons of all sorts. "A king with no powers has no right to sit on the throne, Laufeyson," Helbindi roared, ground his staff a few feet away from the stairs to the throne, creating a crack in the ground. "And a Jotun with Asgard in his blood has no right to stay alive in Jotunheim." Weapons were drawn at anyone who was not on Helbindi's side. Javier was already on his feet, running by Loki's side with his camera. Loki still had his mouth covered with his hand, as if in a tired trance. "Everybody out," he commanded ever so smoothly to his audience- who was hesitant at first, but left as soon as the God's eyes pierced through every last one of them. Left alone with his brother's radical followers, he sighed out loud, his fingers still drumming. Javier felt a buzz in his pocket, making him take out the little tablet he used to control his cameras. "Your actions with every passing moment make me more sure of your inability to rule over the subjects, brother mine," the God simply commented. The seriousness on Javier's face was turning into a field of fear. "Oh, I am not asking, brother mine," Helbindi snared at Loki, "I am taking what is mine." "And why would I give you anything you want." "Ask your little plaything," Helbindi smirked. The drumming of those pale fingers stopped. Silence eroded in the throne room. And slowly a shallow panting was audible from the God's side. The camera suddenly lost its balance and fell down on the armrest before toppling on the throne behind Loki, his back still in the frame. Light reflected through Javier's eyes, more precisely through his tears, as he moved the tablet towards Loki. "Stop, please, you cannot do this!" your voice echoed through the tablet, and all the lines on Loki's face disappeared. His body got up from the throne, his eyes still stuck on the device, looking at the aftermath of Helbindi's actions. There was no emotion on the God's face while he witnessed everything recorded on the drone. He did not even budge till the recording finished. Once the screen blacked out, he swerved the tablet for Javier to take back. His gaze was apparently still stuck on the black stones on the floor, his jaw threateningly sharp in whatever light coming from the nearest star. "If you want to see her alive again, go back to your ship before the star drops fro-," "You touched her." His voice was just a decibel higher than a whisper; his shoulders stiff. The silver bracelets were visible on his wrists, more so with the light reflecting from them. His pale fingers now turned into fists. "You hurt her."  Nothing but the resonating crack of a metal reverberated through the hall and everything went black.

.

The drone sat over the bars, recording the visible shivering breaths coming out of you while your skin turned pale, your fingers blue and your hairs were already collecting frost over them, despite moving your legs as close as you possibly could to your body. "P-plea-hease," your voice shuddered, "s-s-stop hi-im. T-there is-s-s st-i-ill time." "Your master is quite possibly begging on his knees by now," Kruge cackled, gulping down the mead and pouring more from the barrel next to him. Lulu was trying his best to keep your warm with his little body, wrapping himself around your neck while whimpering for you. Kruge was about to finish another mug when his ears caught a snicker that slowly turned into a weak laughter. The drone recorded you chuckling through the pain of the blight. "What is so comedic," Kruge snarled at you. "You thought I was telling you to stop for Loki's sake?" you laughed a little more, making the Jotun simmer with building rage. "I was telling you to stop your master before it's too late, you sewage rat's tick." The lens panned in on your features, all those helpless tears replaced by a smirk that could put the devil to shame. "You master thinks I am Loki's weakness." Your eyes glistened with a tint of some hidden darkness inside them in contrast to all the white around you. "Because I made him think that, you buffoon." "He is nothing without his essen-" "Count your peaceful breaths, you son of a bitch," you stressed, never batting your eyelids, "because you are not going to die an easy death today." You smiled turned into a chuckle before your eyes turned heavy and you fell down. The drone- in its last few minutes- went dark, but not before recording Lulu's cried, mewls, howls that slowly turned into a blood curdling roar echoing till the end.

[another-emotional-wreck]

Title: Movie Night

Pairings: None except for a hint of Monica x Peter cause they're cute imo I'm sorry

Summary: Movie night with the Hex trio and Peter... until it's not. Also, metallokinetic Peter.

Warnings: No warnings as far as I know, but there's angst and a decent amount of fluff

Word Count: 2.2k words

Author's Note: This is my first fic for anything Marvel/Xmen related. Kinda nervous but mostly excited. Feedback is really appreciated as there's a pretty good chance a lot some of the character's actions could be pretty ooc.

*******************************************************************

“Wait… what?” Peter asked for what had to have been the millionth time. For a guy who could run fast, it was seriously taking him way too long to get this.

Darcy sighed again. “Alright, so you have to press this button--”

“The little sideways bow thing?”

“Uh, sure, why not. So you press it and then you’re gonna see a lot of different names. The one you’re gonna pick is called ‘Peter’s earbuds’.”

“Okay. Wait how does it know my-- oh wait, it beeped! The lady said it’s… paired? Now what?”

“Now you can pick a song to listen to.” Darcy pressed an icon of a square with a black background and a green circle in the middle. “Anything in particular?”

Peter was silent for a moment. "What do people listen to these days?"

Darcy took the phone from Peter before typing the name of a band into the search bar. His face lit up as Darcy handed it back to him, the screen filled with different songs to choose from. After a moment of scrolling, the opening chords of Dumb by Nirvana filled his ears, and for just a little while, his mind was calm. It was quiet.

“It’s nice to know at least music hasn’t changed since the 80s."

“I wouldn't say that exactly," Darcy mumbled.

Before he could question her statement, Monica spoke up.

"The 80s." She and Jimmy walked through the front door, both carrying grocery bags in their hands. "Is that where you're from?"

Monica placed the groceries on the counter before sitting down on the couch across from Peter.

He squinted at something in the distance. “I think so. I uh…” fuzzy images filled his mind. Laughing at jokes next to a boy with the strangest glasses. Playing in the snow with a woman with red hair. Sharing popcorn in a cold room with a girl with a mohawk and a blue devil.

A serious conversation with a man who meant a lot to him.

Peter winced at the sudden sharp pain behind his eyes. “It’s kinda… kinda hard to sort through.”

“That’s cool,” Darcy shrugged. “I felt the same way during English class back when I was in high school.”

Kurt Cobain’s voice rang in his ears. My heart is broke, but I have some glue. Help me inhale, and mend it with you. Peter nodded his head as he hummed along clumsily, not quite getting the tune right.

Once the pain faded from behind his eyes, Darcy noticed the way Peter’s face seemed to brighten at the sight of a certain someone.

“Guess what!” In less than a second, Peter had moved from his spot next to Darcy onto the couch beside Monica. “Darcy showed me how to get these little pods to play music--”

“They’re called earbuds--”

“And I can listen to whatever I want. How do you feel about this band called Nirvana?” Peter offered an earbud to Monica.

She laughed. “Right now, Jimmy has his heart set on this Lord of the Rings marathon.”

Jimmy shook his head as he took two bags from Monica and placed them all on the counter. “I stand by my claim that Lord of the Rings was and will forever be the best trilogy to ever exist.”

“Sure, Jimmy.” Darcy crossed the room to inspect the groceries. “Popcorn, sherbet, and Sprite? You got orange sherbet?”

Jimmy raised his palms in surrender and pointed at Monica. “Take that up with her.”

“Orange sherbet is the best flavor and, no, I will not be taking any questions.”

Darcy scrunched her nose. “And you’re sure powers were all you got from going through the Hex so many times?”

“You mean aside from having superior taste?” Monica joked. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

*********

“Frodo didn’t deserve Sam,” Monica stated as the movie played on screen.

Shoving another handful of popcorn in his mouth, Jimmy responded. “He was under a lot of pressure! The corruption from the ring only got worse the closer they got to Mordor, so you can’t really blame Frodo for everything.”

Monica wrinkled her nose at the kernels that flew out of his mouth as Jimmy spoke. “Whatever you say. Plus it doesn’t matter cause Darcy’s on my side anyways.”

“You say that as if she didn’t fall asleep the second the movie started,” Jimmy snorted as he gestured to Darcy, who was snoring rather loudly on his shoulder.

Peter chuckled at the banter between the two and at Monica’s annoyed expression, catching her attention.

With Darcy practically on top of Jimmy yet somehow also managing to take up half of the couch, Peter and Monica were seated rather close together.

“Unless you’re laughing at Jimmy, that noise shouldn’t be coming out of your mouth,” she joked, having to turn her head to look Peter in the eye.

“It’s really not my fault that you always seem to be wrong.”

“That’s a lie, actually, but alright.”

“See?” He snorted. “Wrong again.”

Monica glared at Peter who just chuckled and adjusted his position.

After no more than twenty minutes of the movie playing on screen, the sound of Monica snoring told Peter that he and Jimmy were the last two awake.

“They never stay up for my movies,” Jimmy muttered.

Peter turned in his direction. “They never what?”

“We try and do this movie night a couple of times a month. So far, they’ve fallen asleep on every single movie I’ve chosen. I mean that’s obviously just because they don’t appreciate classic media--”

“Right,” Peter mumbled. “That’s why.”

Jimmy paused as he shoveled another handful of popcorn in his mouth. “But I don’t mind it. I mean, everyone’s been back for a little while now, but there’s still this… this underlying fear that it’ll happen again. This nagging feeling that people are gonna be taken away from us, but this time they won’t come back.”

He looked at Darcy, still completely unconscious on Jimmy’s shoulder, and Monica, who was curled up under Peter. “They feel like family” Jimmy admitted. “We haven’t even known each other for that long, but I’d do anything for these two, and I’m comfortable saying they’d do the same for me.”

“I’m happy for all of you, really.” Peter sighed, feeling the clasp on Monica’s necklace dig into his side. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous. I have a few memories--”

Taking a look at the confused look on Jimmy’s face, Peter continued. “Well, you all know that I’m not from here. Wanda just pulled me out of my own time and brought me here. ”

“I mean we know it wasn’t intentional--”

“That’s not the point!” Peter did his best to rein in his anger. “The point is, some random lady took me away from my time. Away from my home, my friends, my family. And I’m not even saying that I blame her, but why did it have to be me?” When Jimmy didn’t respond, Peter continued. “I get these… flashbacks. Fuzzy memories of home. They used to be pretty rare but lately, I’ve been getting them more often. One of them keeps showing up.”

“You think you can try and remember?” Jimmy suggested.

After a moment of silence, Peter decided. “Yeah.” He adjusted Monica so that her head rested on the arm of the couch instead of his side, and something strange happened to his chest at the sight of her sleeping so peacefully.

Jimmy pulled out a notebook and pen. Peter cleared his throat as Jimmy nodded for him to begin, ready to jot down whatever he could.

“It was me, a little girl. An older woman, could’ve been my mother? And--” Peter furrowed his brow as a dull pain began to form behind his eyes and a white noise began ringing in his ears. “Someone… someone else. They, uh-- a man. I think.”

“If you can’t remember who, try to focus on where.”

“No no, I’ve got it. They uh. We--” It was beginning to hurt. “No. Wait. Younger people… friends, they had to be.”

The pain became more intense. The noise in his head was getting louder. It hurt. Different images flashed in his head, all fuzzy and difficult to clear up. His mind reached out to grasp one but just as his fingertips brushed the surface, it was gone.

A patient teacher bound to a wheelchair.

A charming blue devil.

A shapeshifter with a warm heart.

A man who could shake the earth itself.

“They keep moving,” Peter said through gritted teeth. “They… t-they won’t sit still.”

“Alright, man,” Jimmy closed the notebook. “If you need to take a break we can--”

“No! I wanna do this. I need to do this.” Peter’s voice cracked. “I don’t-- I can’t forget them.”

“Okay. Alright, that’s fine but you-- uhh…” Jimmy furrowed his brow at the sight of the pen in his hand beginning to twitch. He took one look at Peter and his eyes grew wide the moment he began to understand. “Peter. Hey, you’ve gotta take a breath. You gotta-- shit.”

Jimmy took in Peter’s current state. Pale and shaky with droplets of sweat forming on his forehead. His eyes wide and panicked. “Uhmm, shit, Monica! Darcy! I really think now would be an appropriate time for the two of you to wake up, given the circumstances.”

As he moved to shake the two women awake, Peter’s struggle grew more intense. The pain had now spread throughout his entire head and turned into a pounding sensation. The noise was deafening as it bounced around in his skull.

Monica woke quickly to see Peter pale and in distress. “Jimmy, what’s happening?”

“I don’t know! We were trying to clear up the memories in his head when he started shaking and--”

“I can see that, but what’s happening?”

“Uhh…. I think stuff is about to start floating…”

Darcy’s eyes fluttered open. “Huh?”

“Yeah,” Jimmy continued, still trying to wake Darcy. “Cause, my pen was shaking and your necklace is moving a lot, and Darcy, I think your glasses are about to fly off of your face.”

Monica looked down to see her necklace float away from her chest, then watched in what seemed like slow motion as each object Jimmy mentioned flew towards the same source.

Peter.

Seconds later the tv in front of them crumpled in on itself. “That was expensive,” Darcy sighed, now fully awake.

Monica cocked her head, her gaze flickering from Peter to Jimmy to Darcy. “Is he--”

“Yep,” Darcy said loudly

The three sat in awe and terror as Peter sank to the floor in agony, screaming as he drew his knees to his chest. His hands pressed over his ears.

Darcy looked into her kitchen and her eyes grew wide. Locking eyes with Monica and then Jimmy, they all spoke at once. “The knives.”

Monica scrambled to Peter’s side while Darcy and Jimmy ran to get as many knives as they could out of the house.

Darcy turned towards Monica. “You, uh, sure you got this?”

At Monica’s shaky nod, she followed Jimmy into the kitchen.

“Okay,” Monica began. “Peter… I’m gonna, um. I, uh-- okay I actually have no idea what I’m gonna do, but I need you to just, try and, uh, I don’t know, breathe?”

“I can’t.” he panted. The breaths he took were uneven and rapid and his face was stark white. He wasn’t responding to her. “I can’t forget. I-- no, no no I don’t want to forget. They’re slipping. I can’t reach them. Help me.”

She knew he wasn’t going to be able to calm himself down. Monica called the other two in there.

Jimmy ran into the living room first. “We weren’t-- oh.”

Darcy quickly followed. “Holy shit.” she looked at Monica. “You know what to do?”

Monica nodded. “But I haven’t exactly done it before and there’s a good chance I’ll pass out after.”

“I mean, if it means he stops screaming bloody murder, I feel like it’ll be worth it.” Jimmy looked at Darcy with wide eyes, who just shrugged.

“Right,” Monica shook the nerves out of her hands. “Okay. Alright.”

“Y’know, there are still knives and other extremely sharp objects in the kitchen so--”

“I got that, Darcy!” Monica snapped. She took a deep breath before turning all of her attention to the man in front of her. “Okay, Peter? I’m sorry, but none of us have any idea what to do, and so, this was the next best option.”

She closed her eyes and placed both hands to his temple, struggling to keep them there as he twisted in pain. When her eyes opened again, a bright blue shone in place of their usual brown.

His energy came through in tendrils. The super-speed feeling like electricity itself, sharp and cold, while his metallokinesis was slow and warm and heavy. It was new and painful and in that moment Monica understood his pain.

While his powers had come to a pause, his memories were a different matter.

“I gotta keep going,” Monica slurred. Her eyelids were heavy.

“Yeah that’s what we’re not gonna do,” Darcy said.

“He’s still in pain!”

“And now so are you! We can find something to sedate him but, right now, you can’t--”

Monica responded by placing her hands on Peter’s temple once again, this time taking out smaller amounts of energy. Just enough to put him to sleep for a little while.

She then promptly collapsed.

“Energy absorption,” Jimmy stated. “Impressive.”

Darcy sighed. “Please just help me get them to bed.”

“Right. Okay.”

[bombyxluna]

Omega Mammon X GN!Human MC 

This is more of an intro to the series, which is why is a lil bit longer and more explanatory.

We’re here to break sub gender norms! 

I don’t know how many parts this will have but I want it to be angsty.

No NSFW yet :P

CW: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Talks of heats/ruts/sub genders

The Devildom is, for a lack of a more fitting word, strange. Though, you suppose, being surrounded by demons should be. 

There’s too much you don’t understand still. Three months have passed since you arrived - or were kidnapped? the jury is still out on this one - and it feels like an eternity of time and too little all the same. 

Demons, as it turns out, have very different customs and rituals from humans. So do angels. You are in the least thankful for the classes, but every other student in them seems well versed in the basics, while you float about unsure of what’s happening. Hell, even Luke knows more than you, and he hates demons. Not to mention he’s a child. Double low blow. 

The classes would be going a little bit better if you only had time to actually study for them. Though you do suspect that Diavolo doesn’t actually give a shit about grades and this entire school is a mockery to appease his peaceful plans, you're still stuck in what’s basically hell and having to go to what’s basically hell’s undergrad school. Great. 

The least you can do is prod around for some demon knowledge. You know, just in case. Because things are getting weirder by the day, and sometimes it feels like it’s all an ongoing inside joke you’re not really a part of.

Also, because of them. 

Living with demons wasn’t exactly unexpected, but living with the Seven Rulers of Hell - well, six of them, was. 

Despite initial impressions, you’re quickly figuring out there’s more to each of them than the public eye could see. Something lurking below their perfectly crafted personas, that is reserved only for the ones in close proximity to them. Only for family.

You’re not family, but you’re definitely in close proximity. 

It’s easy to tell how much they hide behind masks. Lucifer, as far as everyone else knows, it’s the always serious and stern big brother that will never crack a joke or play around. The entire foundation of that statement could be torn down with one single picture you had, of him playing with Cerberus. 

Leviathan, despite actively trying to kill you over a book series since - no, you’re not over it - is more than the shut-off otaku who is otherwise known as the Admiral of the Devildom’s marine. He is also clumsy and shy, and he goes on tangents about what he likes, and he is friendly. 

Satan, known as the hot-headed brother who has a tendency to overwork himself into humor changes and explosive arguments, is a reserved person, a cat lover, an erotica reader, and an absolute dork. 

Beelzebub, though he whines about food a lot, is far more than just the hungry brother who also happens to be a jock. He’s a carebear, a very attentive listener, has great movie recommendations, and an amazing cook. 

Asmodeus, who may look lust-driven and shallow to the onlooker, but is caring, a hopeless romantic, a good friend and brother, and even a little insecure. 

And then there’s Mammon.

At first, you didn’t know what to think of him. He acted high and mighty, too strung up in his high horse to look at a human such as yourself. When Lucifer put him in what was basically the task to babysit you, it’s safe to say you were annoyed. 

But then, you started to pick up on things. Small things. Unnoticeable to those who aren’t looking, but that become increasingly clearer once you realize them. 

He’s clingy. With his brothers, with you, even with his credit card. Though he never lets himself linger, when he hugs you, it’s tight and crushing, like he needs to be as close to you as possible. When your arms brush together as you walk about, he blushes. 

His brothers tease him. A lot. To the point, it’s painful to even to you sometimes. He laughs through it all, but you can see the drooping at the corners of his mouth, and how the giggles don’t reach his eyes.

And he’s scared. At least, that’s what it seems like to you. He puts up a front of being this big, angry, scary, and powerful demon such as his brothers, and though you certainly don’t doubt the powerful part, the angry and scary seem faulty. 

It’s intriguing. One day he’ll be all over you and the next he’ll act like he barely knows you, avoiding your eyes and only answering in curt answers. Sometimes his PDA is off the charts - he’ll throw arms around you, stick close, pull you closer when you’re walking together - and others he acts as the smallest of touches burns him like it pains him to be so much as near you. 

And there is that smell. It lingers on him but not on his brothers, like a perfume stronger than anything else. It doesn’t make any sense, though, because you’re pretty sure it’s not perfume. You’ve seen him spray himself before leaving in the mornings and it’s not the same smell. It’s something else, a light waft that emanates from him in waves, but no one else seems to pick up on. 

He’s a puzzle that refuses to fall in place, and all you want to do is figure him out. 

Solomon sits down in front of you with a loud gruff, dropping a small pile of stacked books on top of the wooden table in the library. The librarian shushes him when the sound echoes through the empty halls. Asmodeus hot on his trail, carrying nothing but a bag. He sits down as well, eyes all but sparkling.

“MC!” He sings. The librarian shushes him. 

“Hi, Asmo,” you make space on the table, putting your bag on the chair next to you.

“Ready to cram years of demon biology in one afternoon?” Solomon asks. He smiles wickedly as if he thinks it’s actually possible to do so, and you feel a little bit like a prey caged in by a much, much more astute predator.

You asked for help with the subjects, and maybe you’re already regretting it a little. “Sure,” you answer, trying to sound determined. 

He smiles. “What are you seeing in your class?” 

Solomon picked different classes for the year, and while you were fine with not doing whatever the hell goes on in advanced alchemy, it’s a little bit of a bummer to not share even one class with the only other human around. 

“I’m not… really sure,” you slouch on the seat, ready to give up. Why can’t the world be like the movies and you can spend an entire year just looking out the windows and being pretty? “Subgroups? Or sub genders?” 

“Oh,” he says softly, flipping through one of the heavier looking books. 

Next to him, Asmodeus is pulling out a notebook filled with post-its and notes made in glitter pens. You suspect he didn’t come to lecture you, and that suspicion is confirmed when the notebook is discarded as soon as it showed up, apparently being pulled out only because his bag was on the smaller side and his pink switch-like video game was at the bottom of it. He sighs dramatically, lowering the music coming from it, and laying his chin on Solomon’s shoulder.

Yeah, definitely not here for you. 

Solomon slides the open book towards you, marked on a page titled Subgenders then starts flipping through the next. 

Asmodeus watches as you read over the basic introduction. 

“It’s not hard,” he says, voice bubbly even though the words game over can be read on his screen, “It’s a little tricky to separate, but you get the hand really quickly.”

-

It’s not actually all that hard to figure things out. Solomon, despite the borderline chaotic ways he chooses to explain things, is a fairly good teacher. You manage to grasp the three sub genders and the differences between them in no more than a couple hours - a record if you’re being honest. 

And Solomon had been right. It’s not hard to separate them. Alphas are, generally speaking, the “dominant” gender. They’re easier to anger and natural born fighters. They experience ruts, can mate, and have knots. Most of the royal court are alphas.

Omegas are the “lower” gender - though according to Solomon, the idea that one is lower to the other is being more and more fought againts and discussed in the realms - they’re conflict solvers and are seem as sweeter and more fragile. They experince heats and self lubricate. Most of the common demons are omegas.

Betas are a middle ground. They don’t have scents as strong as alphas or omegas, and aren’t easily affected by ruts or heats. They can still mate, however, and are often seem as level-headed and good right hands for alpha leaders. They’re rare. Barbatos is one of them.

And then there’s the Apex, the “alpha of alphas” as Asmodeus described them. An alpha so powerful he stands above all others, in the top of the “food chain.” That’s the category that fits Diavolo.

“So… what are you then, Asmo?” You ask, folding your arms above the book Solomon had highlighted to you.

Asmodeus perks up, bright as ever. “I’m an alpha, of course! Can’t you tell?” He gestures to himself, manicured nails gleaming under the bad lighting. 

“What about you?” You turn to Solomon. He hadn’t mentioned anything about humans having sub genders, but you kinda wish that was possible, although you couldn’t tell why.

Asmodeus pulls Solomon closer by the arm and beams. “He’s my omega!”

Solomon shrugs him off with a low chuckle. “Don’t make me slap you.”

“Kinky,” Asmodeus points a finger to him, smiling wide. He pulls Solomon again, by the shoulders, and lowers his turtleneck, revealing a bite. “I didn’t lie, though.” 

Solomon pushes him off with a scowl, covering the mark with his hand. “Yeah, yeah.” He waves Asmodeus off, adjusting the clothing.

You chuckle at them but say nothing. It’s clear Solomon doesn’t want you to.

Asmodeus pays his scowl no mind, resting his head on Solomon’s neck. Solomon sighs. “I’m not anything. Humans don’t have sub genders. We didn’t evolve to them, so we end up in somewhat of a grayscale. The closest thing to us would be betas.”

“Then we… claiming and that stuff… we can’t do it?” Your eyes trail to Solomon’s neck, but the bite is covered. 

“Not really,” he sighs, “this was an exception.”

“And why’s that?” Asmodeus hums, leaning over Solomon. Their faces are almost touching. 

Solomon sighs again, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Because I’m a demon’s whore.”

Asmodeus smiles, so much that little dimples show up at the corners of his lips, and he claps. “I love you so much.” 

You roll your eyes, making a vomiting sound when they kiss. Lowering your gaze, you read over the title of one of the chapters. 

“Hey,” you look up again, catching their attention, “what about your brothers? Mammon has a different scent, is he an omega?”

Asmodeus splutters, looking exaggeratedly shocked. He chuckles, strained. “Of course not!” He waves hands in front of himself, almost hitting Solomon in the face, “We’re all alphas.”

“Oh,” you say. It doesn’t make sense. None of the others have a scent like Mammon’s. It’s a little sweet, but seems clouded, slightly sour in the corners. 

“I don’t get it,” Asmodeus muses, tapping a finger to his chin, “humans don’t really feel our scent, how can he be different?”

His gaze is closed off on you, analyzing a little too much. It makes you feel like an ant under a magnifying glass, “I uh… he just does.” 

Solomon stares at you but doesn’t comment on it, even if it looks like he wants to. 

Asmodeus hums in thought, gaze still sharp on your every movement. Then, he smiles, almost artificial in its wake, “Well, whatever!” He slaps a hand to the table. At this point, the librarian gave up on shushing you.

Solomon is still staring at you. You move a little. Being watched like this makes you feel kind of squeamish.

Asmodeus is staring at Solomon, and then at you, resting his head on a palm. He hums again, stretching his arms over his head, and then he’s up, pulling Solomon with him. “We should get going!I wonder who’s on dinner duty.”

You blink. Dinner was still far away. Your study session just got cut short, and while you have no idea why, it feels like it’s your fault.

As you close the book and gather your things alongside them, the word seems to call you again. “Being an omega sounds painful, though,” you close the book, “heats and all.” 

Solomon scoffs. He closes his notebook, sliding his bag over a shoulder. “That makes it more fun.”

Asmodeus tsks, waving Solomon off, “Don’t listen to him he doesn’t have a soul.” 

Solomon neither confirms nor denies this statement, instead only giving you an amused chuckle and a tilt of the head. 

The feeling that you did something wrong, crossed a barrier you weren’t supposed to, clings to you. But still, it makes no sense. 

There’s something different about Mammon. You have to figure out why. 

-

The first thing you notice is that you’re missing a pillow. You’re back from a week filled with classes, ready to drop in bed and sleep the entire weekend when you realize something seems off. You look everywhere, but the pillow is nowhere to be found. 

Then, a couple of days later, the thin blanket you keep for movie nights and long study sessions is gone. 

It progresses like that. The throw you use to warm your feet. Your favorite stuffed animal. A fluffy winter jacket. 

When you ask, fed up with this little prank, none of the brothers seem to know where your things went. 

Your pact with Mammon is still somewhat fresh, but you find yourself going to him, if not for a solution, maybe to complain. 

The door is open when you arrive, pushing it inside without ceremony. 

“Mammon, you’re not going to believe-” 

The words die on your throat. There, spread on top of his bed, twisted and fluffed together into a carefully crafted bundle - no, your mind provides, a nest. This is a nest - are all your missing items, and, sitting on top of them with a flushed face and big eyes, is Mammon. 

Oh. 

Turns out you were right. 

“MC, I, I…” Mammon fumbles upwards, all but stumbling in the mess of blankets and pillows he has apparently snatched not only from you but from his brothers as well. There are even some pillows you don’t recognize, cow patterns all over them. 

“Mammon…” it’s all you can say. You have never dealt with this before, but the answer to your question was clear as day, right in front of you. 

Omegas nest when stressed or needy. Came Solomon’s voice, a memory from the lecture just a week before. 

“You’re an omega.” You say, in a surprised whisper, cogs turning on your mind and finally fitting with each other. 

Mammon’s face falls and his breath hitches. “How do you know about that?”

“In class… we went over the basic biology of demons and…”

He gulps audibly, eyes darting to the floor. “Then you know.”

You can almost feel the question marks forming around your head. “Know what?”

“How disgusting this is,” he gestures to the nest. His face is still reddened, voice bordering on wet, “I took your things without telling and I… I used them, my scent is all over them and now… I’m sorry, MC.”

“Mammon…” you reach towards him, but he steps back.

“You probably want them back, right?” He chuckles dryly with no real humor. “It’s okay, I get it. People don’t like when omegas get all needy, I know that.” He scratches at the back of his neck, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes tugging at his lips. “You can take them, I’ll just…” he points to the door, “yeah.”

And then he’s gone, leaving behind the same smell you came to associate with him, only much sour in its wake. Your pact mark burns, glowing a faint yellow tone. You stand next to his bed, confused and feeling like you managed to fuck up even more.

Masterlist

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

original post/idea came from @memes-saved-me

and thank you for encouraging me to write it! i had lots of fun <3

———

Steve Harrington’s parents weren’t around often. People knew that, they were aware. Now, they weren’t home much, yes, but they weren’t not home enough for it to be a worrying case of neglect. They still called in, had the neighbor keep tabs, and came home at least three times a month.

When you asked Steve about his family he’d simply shrug his shoulders and tell you that his father had a firm in the city. When someone asked Mr. and Mrs. Harrington about their son they’d wave a hand and mention how ‘he’s just on his way to graduating’ and then change the subject. Was Steve Harrington the perfect son? Maybe not. Were the senior Harrington’s good parents to begin with? Debatable. But they had something close to functional. They digress.

And so, as children who didn’t have prominent leaders in their life usually turn out, Steve was a lost cause when it came to actually living on his own. He had the money for food and his parents kept up with the bills. But he was horrendous when it came to actually keeping the house up to shape.

Until he had to figure it out to save his own ass.

The first instance was messy.

His first party had been wild. Junior year. Half his grade and then some had shown up. He’d gone all out. The long, fancy dining table had been loaded with foods all fatty and desirable. Kegs had been placed outside for peoples free flow. The expensive stereo which had been installed that spring blasted music from a collection of mixtapes. And by the end of the night, the party had been raging. Raging as in fights broke out, people got reckless, everyone started getting destructive.

That was when Steve regretted not having a plan, he was too sober to just let it go and deal with it in the morning. He knew that wasn’t a good idea. Multiple things happened all at once. Someone dragged a keg in from the backyard, too drunk to find the strength to carry it. And apparently too deaf to hear it scratch up the maple wood floorboards. Then, two seniors bashed their heads into the wall. Successfully denting two very noticeable holes in the drywall. But, oh, that wasn’t all the destruction. Some junior (Steve vaguely registered his name as Jake) was thrown into the wall, actively also breaking a shelf there too.

He had turned off the music and then clanged pots together to get them all out. It worked. A little surprisingly.

And then he’d been left with a damaged house to deal with.

He picked up all the litter both indoors and outdoors, put the little leftover food into the fridge, vacuumed, and then went to bed in exhaustion.

===

The next day he’d then been overwhelmed with many worries over the destruction caused to his home. He was just thankful it had been Saturday. He had the weekend to figure this shit out. He went around the house and made a list of everything that needed repair.

1.) The floor

2.) The holes in the walls

3.) That shelf (REPLACEMENT)

4.) The table

Oh yes, the table. His family’s long, fancy table had an abundant number of scratches engraved into it. Something no amount of waxing could fix.

His first thought was to look for all the tools his prestigious father had to offer. So, he looked everywhere. The basement, the attic, the closets, the offices, the shed. And he did find some. A hammer, two screwdrivers with different points, a tape measure, a wrench, a measuring level, and exactly 28 screws. But even that wasn’t enough and he knew. Next stop was the local hardware store.

Mr. Jimmy was the local handyman and he was nice enough to everyone. But not so much to the Harrington’s.

“What’re you doing here, boy? You know, son,” Jimmy’s neglected beard rustled when he spoke and his shop smelled of anchovies and cheese doodles. “I used to know yer Mama. Back in the day. She was a purdy thing, that woman.” He sighed something fond, “I miss that there woman. She’s not the same. Barely see her nowadays.” Steve was used to Mr. Jimmy’s delays, wasn’t subsided too much.

“Hey, Mr. Jimmy,” he stepped through the threshold of the old shop. “I’m looking for some tools today. Think you could help me?”

Mr. Jimmy regarded him with squinted eyes, “You using yer Daddy’s money?”

Steve blinked, “Yeah?” Mr. Jimmy folded his arms impassively. He had obvious tan lines that peaked out through his sleeveless shirt. Skin red over age.

“I don’t want no money from that bastard’s account!”

“But—“

“I’ll have none of it,” the bulky man stepped forward and Steve’s back hit the cold glass door.

“But, Mr. Jimmy, you’d be taking from him. Wouldn’t that be better than just letting him keep all that money for himself?” Steve reasoned. Adding the suggestive and innocent lilt to his tone, worked his bystander charm.

The scornful eyes grew with joy, “Why—“ he laughed suddenly, loud and invasive just as he was. “You’re a rotten little junior, aren’t yeh!” he galloped over to his counter with the same joyous lilt. Steve stood still in case the man swerved into another decision. He watched as Mr. Jimmy himself walked around his shelves, searching. “What kinda stuff you lookin for anyways?”

Steve struggled to find his voice, “Er- Uhm- Hah. W—Well I have to replace some wood flooring, fix a scratched table, replace a shelf, and patch up some holes in the wall?” He received a raised eyebrow before the man started hurriedly piling supplies throughout the shop into the counter by the cash register. Steve didn’t even want to think about how much it would cost. Although, if he thought about it, replacing everything and then paying someone else to do it all was probably more of a hole. Sure, the emergency cash that had added up over time would be gone, but at least he wouldn’t be disowned for the ruined furniture.

“That’ll be $78.75,” Mr. Jimmy pressed some buttons and Steve startled a little when the loud clang of it opening echoed. He pulled out his wallet anyway and dug around for the cash. He handed over four twenties only a smidge reluctantly.

Mr. Jimmy was giddy at least, “This here money will do me some good,” he nodded to himself as he stored the greens away and started packing the supplies in tightly within big paper bags.

“I’m sure my father will miss it,” Steve fibbed, “Keep the change.” And carried the three hefty loads up and out the door.

===

He had Queen playing the speakers and a crow bar in hand. What he was supposed to do now that he supposedly had all of the materials was a toss up to him. But he had to try.

He got down on all fours and began prying between the first ruined board and one of the unscarred ones. It lifted with a creak and he watched it carefully as he moved the bar up and down repeatedly. At one point it didn’t peel off any more and so he went side to side with it. Still nothing. He tried to push forward but there was too much resistance.

“What the hell? Come on you pathetic piece of wood!” he muttered exasperatedly. He pulled back a little and then slammed the bar back under the board. There was a sharp snapping sound that made him freeze. But the board was unstuck. And, oh would you look at that. He was unceremoniously proud. The floor board popped off. He saw that there was some dried up white lines underneath. He decided that it looked like that stuff in the bottle labeled ‘liquid nail’ and placed the board to the side.

He spent the rest of the late morning tearing up floorboards. By the time a late lunch break was approaching, he had accomplished removing all the damaged floor. He went into the kitchen to wash his hands quick before calling for a pizza when he realized the water accumulation in the sink. And it wouldn’t go down.

“Okay!” he cried in frustration, “What the actual hell now?” He got down again and opened the cupboard doors to the pipes coming down from the sink. There were steel pipes that started from the sink and curved around down into the bottom of the cabinet. There were rings that Steve assumed connected them. So to see what was backing up the sink he’d have to unscrew a couple. Right? He got up and dusted his pants off (a lost cause by this point) and went over to the pile of tools by the front door.

He grabbed a wrench, or at least what looked like one the plumber had used when he’d visited once or twice when Steve was a kid. It took him a minute but he finally loosened the mouth of it and fitted the groves over the ring of the pipe. He twisted and some water started dropping down. It started making a puddle so he hurried and grabbed a pot, placing it right underneath. He twisted again and again and again.

He sputtered as some sprayed into his face, “Awe hell! Disgusting!” but he kept twisting anyway.

Eventually it came off. But the water was quickly overflowing. Not to mention rancid. He yelped in shock and ran all around the kitchen trying to find more bowls. He found one, a china bowl that was his mother’s great aunt’s. He yelled out as he saw the grey water streaming down onto the kitchen floor at that point. He ran back and held the fancy ceramic serving bowl up to the open pipe. He sighed in relief as it worked and when it stopped, finally, just barely brimming the bowl, he saw tons of little pieces of orange.

“Who the hell put orange peels in my sink?” he muttered as he carefully waddled out to the back yard. It was cold out and he didn’t have shoes nor socks on. He jogged on his toes all the way back to the tree line and tossed the gross contents into the bushes there. He ran back shivering with a tight hold onto the rim of the china bowl. When inside he set it on the counter and fluttered about gathering towels. He mopped up the rest of the water mess and went to turn on the sink to check his work.

“Wait!” he jumped down in panic just as he turned the water on and off in the same second. The water inevitably dripped down through the open pipe but it was only a little. He leaned his head tiredly against the open cupboard door, face sweaty and hairline damp. He took the wrench and attached the rings back on snugly. Then, he turned the water on with a quick flick at the knob. He laughed happily as nothing leaked and the water trickled down without blockage. He leaned back against the counter and panted as the slight adrenaline rush flowed away.

===

Some time later he figured that he should probably work on the holes in the wall. He had some sort of paper roll made of one thick strip and a big bucket of smooth and pale mud textured stuff. He took the wide spatula thing that Mr. Jimmy had instructed of him to use and stared at the two dents in the white accent wall.

“Ummm,” Steve looked from his full hands, roll of paper stuff around his wrist and mud bucket in one and the spatula in the other. “Well what the hell do I do now?” he asked himself. He could really use Mr. Jimmy’s insight right now. Or Tommy. Tommy knew this stuff his uncle was one of the local handymen. But Tommy had also been the one to drag the keg in so maybe not him. He stepped up to the biggest of the damages and pulled off a piece of the thick paper. He held it up to the wall and blocked off the hole.

“Oh!” he realized excitedly, “I see,” Steve nodded to himself proudly and crouched to set the bucket on the floor. He stuck the spatula in and took some up with it. “Like paste,” he mumbled to himself and started smoothing the mud stuff on one side of the tape strip he’d measured out. He grinned and stuck it to the wall over the hole so that the top and bottom connected to the uncracked wall. He did that same thing until the whole hole was patched up. He looked at the pale ‘paste’ and looked back at the wall thoughtfully.

He started, then, to slather more joint compound (he’d finally read the bucket) on top of the tape (he had also then remembered the rushed instructions Mr. Jimmy had thrown out). He smoothed it out tediously and left it be to repeat on the other hole. When he’d finished with that task he found his arms and pants speckled with clumps of dried and crumbly spackle. Steve didn’t think it would be this messy. He picked it off his arms as he walked back to the upturned floor. He winced as the dried beads pulled at his arm hair.

Now, to get the new flooring in, Steve grabbed the hammer and the cylinder with the glue stuff. He really had no clue what it was supposed to be. But he did have an idea of what he had to do. So, he laid out all the new flooring, which he was happy to note was just about a perfect match to the old floor, and started patching the right lengths in place. When he had the puzzle figured out he stared at the tube thoughtfully. He scratched at the tip to see if it would give and when it didn’t he went to the kitchen for scissors.

He snipped off the cap and held it upright as he ran back to his station. Steve turned over one of the boards and pushed in the bottom to get the contents out. Which proved more difficult than he’d hoped. A spurt squirted out but then it stopped.

“Okay,” he sighed defeatedly, “What the fuck?” he set it down and went back to his pile of hardware supplies. There was an odd contraption that did have a base with the same diameter of the cylinder canister. He shrugged a grabbed it, “Worth a try.” He fitted it in and adjusted it so it looked somewhat how he assumed it should. He set the point on the board plank and pulled the trigger a few slow times until the glue came out. He laughed a loud ‘AH-HA’ and swirled it around. He flipped it over after setting down the canister and contraption and fitted and locked it in as best he could with the hammer. Sure, there was about two dents because he hit it a little bit too hard. But it was in and he only had five more boards to fit in. He felt happy enough.

Throughout the rest of the installment he had managed to not get the ‘liquid nail’ on his hands and there weren’t any too obvious dents in the floor, nor anymore scratches. He went back to his list to cross things out and check his progress.

1.) The floor

2.) The holes in the walls

3.) That shelf (REPLACEMENT)

4.) The table

He knew he had to use that block thing to sand down the dried compound. and then he had to repaint the wall white. But that would be simple. The shelf though, that was something else. He had seven wood planks that Mr. Jimmy had cut down for him already. He just had to screw them together and sand them down. Mr. Jimmy had said something about stain or wax but Steve waved it off, the only thing that went on the old shelf was little boxes that held his great great great grandmother’s spoon collection (something he had stored away before his party).

He went outside to the patio with the small hand drill, the 3x4’s, and the thin screws that he’d bought from the store. He sat criss-cross on the concrete and set up the little shelf. It took fifty six minutes and a couple minor slivers and scrapes, but he had the shelf put together with the screws just barely noticeable. He inspected the wood and decided that it was fine as it was. A close enough replica. He went back inside with it, not bothering to sand all the little nooks, and placed it against the wall experimentally. If he put it down a little the holes from before would be concealed just fine.

He drew two little lines with a pencil down the line where the original screws had been. He knew he needed a post to screw into, that the drywall wouldn’t hold. See? He was learning. He lined up the backing plank and placed the level on top, shifting the shelf just so the bubble was in the middle of the lines. He then drilled a screw through it and into the wall. Before he let it go he drilled in the second with some struggle since the he kept loosing balance. But eventually, it was in the wall. His arms were sore and he felt a headache coming on but he had the new shelf up and if his mother was kind enough to not go inspecting it, it would pass just fine. He laughed victoriously and skipped a little around joyously. He was almost done.

“Just a few more things, just a couple,” he consoled his aching limbs. Drills were hefty little things and reminded him of those wild horses in movies that always tried to buck the cowboys off. He groaned a little as he spotted the mess of a table on his way to grab a snack.

He turned his nose to the visual reminder, “I’ll be back to deal with you,” he grumbled. “I need a damn Jell-O cup.”

===

It was actually the next day that he finally got to it. His parents would be back home Monday and he still had a few things left to do. So much for an easygoing weekend. Tommy had called that morning and asked him to go with him to a neighborhood baseball scrimmage, but he’d said he was busy and hung up. He had been mid-sanding down the dining table. And after three hours of perfecting and perfecting it all again. After so much time getting sore and sweaty and coughing from dust. The table was finally flat and there was no more sign of scratches. He got the cloth that Mr. Jimmy had thrown at his face the day before and opened the strong chemically smelling can. He gagged but dipped it in and started applying the wood stain carefully, following the lines of the wood on pure instinct. It made sense too even if he wasn’t totally sure if it was actually right. But, either way, within that hour he had the table back to its original color and left it to dry completely.

He stared at the bumpy wall of compound. He knew this would be bad. If the wood dust was bad, this mud stuff was going to be worse. He wasn’t that naive.

And he was right. By the time it was smooth he was coughing and in dire need of a glass of water. He was never having a damn party at his own house again. Tammy and Sara could continue to host them, people didn’t react well to the spaciousness in the Harrington house apparently. In a rush and loss of interest in his work, Steve quickly painted over the patches with white and left it to dry. He got the can of wax and rubbed it on around the table in his final task.

He was tired as hell and he still had to go to school tomorrow. And he really needed to speak with the person who put orange peels down the damn sink.

===

On Monday morning, at approximately 5:48 AM, Steve Harrington sat in the living room watching I Love Lucy while eating toast as his parents bustled inside.

“Hello!” he heard his mother chirp tiredly as she entered through the foyer. She hurried over and he gave her as welcoming of an embrace as he could. “How are you, dear? Foods in good supply?” she pulled away to inspect him with her hazel eyes, “Heating system still working alright?”

Steve nodded and smiled, “Everything’s just fine. But I have to go and meet Tommy before school, that alright?” he stepped to the side and towards the stairs.

“Of cour—“ his mother was cut off by the monotone cords of his father.

“Stephano, what is up with this mess!” In that moment, Steve Harrington didn’t think he’d ever felt as much fear as he had in that moment. He bolted to the kitchen.

“What mess?”

His father pointed to the wrench, screw driver, and tape measure on the island counter, “Away with this mess, Steve. Clutter is nothing to approve of. It accumulates and it’s unprofessional.” If he only knew.

===

Years later, when he was in everlasting love with Billy Hargrove and they had their shared, small and cozy Chicago apartment, his handyman skills came back to great use.

“Steve! Steve!” Billy shouted in a panic.

Steve rushed from the bedroom to the kitchen, socks skidding on the floors, “What is it? What happened?” he flocked around his boyfriend and checked for any injuries.

Billy pointed rigidly to the sink, “Somethings up with the pipes or something.”

Steve rose his brows in bewilderment, “You don’t know how to unclog pipes?”

Billy furrowed his, “You do?” Steve nodded and opened the cupboard, kneeling to check the pipes.

“Okay so there’s PVC pipes here, I don’t even need a wrench!” he peaked back up at Billy’s wide eyes. “Can you get me that bucket I usually give you when you get hungover?” Billy nodded and jogged out of the room. Steve got a hand towel and placed it down, “What did you put down the drain anyway?” Billy almost hit him in the face with the bucket when he turned back. He froze and took it from the nervous man.

“Uhm. Potato peels,” he answered.

Steve scoffed, “It’s always peels isn’t it?”

Billy stepped back when Steve started turning the rings, “What?”

“Nothin’.” He twisted it quick and managed to not get sprayed in the face while the murky water and loads of potato peel flowed out into the large bucket. When the flow stopped he reattached the pipes together and hefted the bucket out to Billy. “Put that down the toilet, Tiger.” He turned back and heard the sloshing in the bucket and the grunts from Billy as he went through the hallway. Steve chuckled to himself and wiped up the small water spillage.

When Billy returned he had opinions.

“First of all, that shit was gross as hell,” he left the bucket by the front door before returning into the kitchen. “Second of all,” he boxed Steve in with a smirk in his face, “I didn’t know you were so good at pluming.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Finish making the calzones, Bill, and maybe I’ll show you how to fix that hole in the wall behind Max’s photo hanging in the living room. It’s suspiciously shaped like that baseball I told you not to throw around.”

Billy fumbled for his words.

Steve shook his head, “Don’t think you can hide that shit from me, Tiger, I’m the one that dusts.”

===

The next time was when Max and Lucas visited.

“William, do not throw that!” Steve scolded as he held a pan with tomato sauce in it. Lucas dropped his hands that had been ready to try and catch the ball and Max turned a page of her book from where she was on the sofa boredly.

Billy grinned and threw the football anyway, of course. Steve sighed and then grew furious as the same football smashed instantly into the rickety bookshelf and the sad, old thing crumbled on impact. It fell over from Billy’s uncalculated, rebellious force and the shelves snapped apart from the sides. Books strewn out in a messy wave. Steve stomped over and only lowered his near growl of scolding when Billy showed himself already terrified. Max grinned and set her book in her lap to watch.

“What did I say?” Steve demanded while whacking Billy’s shoulder with the oven mitt. The other flapped his hands back to stop the assault.

“I’m sorry!” he yelped, “I’m sorry! We’ll just buy another one!” Steve glared and whacked his head, lighter than before, but still with vigor.

“We don’t have the money, William! We bought the last one at Goodwill for $14!” He bustled back to the kitchen and put the pan into the oven to cook the sauce the rest of the way. “I’ll just have to go down and ask Jeffery to use his wood scraps and nail gun. He’s always kind enough.”

Billy, who had followed him in, looked skeptical, “Jeffery Jeffery or creepy Jeffery?”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Old man Jeffery. And Jeff isn’t creepy, he’s just anti-social.”

Billy went unswayed, “I want to go with you. Let’s go,” he went to the coat closet and Steve sighed, unsurprised.

Steve took his coat and boots from Billy and called to the kids, “Lucas, Max, the sauce will be done in a couple hours. If we’re not back by then just take it out and let it cool please!”

“Sorry, Steve!” he heard Lucas say sincerely.

“Got it, Boss!” Max answered with another flutter of a page in her book.

===

While Steve attached the air hose to the nail gun Billy watched with creases in his forehead.

“What are you ogling, Tiger?” Steve asked as he applied wood glue to a piece.

Billy stooped forward, “Can I help?” he was almost eager sounding.

Steve grinned, “I was hoping you’d ask.” He lifted his own hands from holding the planks together, “Hold that as I nail it together would ya?” Billy nodded a bit unsurely but placed his hands and pushed just as Steve had. Steve lined up the gun, pushed down, and pulled the trigger. Billy flinched at the loud noise and Steve set the gun down and stood up from his focused crouch.

“Are you alright,” he cupped Billy’s cheeks, thumbs gently smoothed the corner eye crinkles.

The other nodded and pecked Steve’s forehead before shrugging it off, “Was just surprised is all.” Steve nodded back and smiled kindly before returning as he was before and finished the line of nails.

Not too long later, the book shelf was put together and Steve handed Billy a piece of sand paper. He showed Billy how to use it and he got complaints in return due to the uncomfortable noise it made.

But they did return home with a lovely new bookshelf. And they’d made it together so it was all that extra bit of special.

Maybe Steve didn’t disapprove of that party all those years ago after all. Look what he got out of it?

The smile Billy got whenever he looked at that shelf filled with Steve’s mystery romance and his own horror thrillers, that fond and euphoric smile was enough for Steve Harrington in the long run.

[kerie-prince]

We're Worlds Apart (3)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: cursing, angst(?), Draco being a meanie :(

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

a/n: not my best lmao kinda gets cheesy. anyways, Y/M/N = your mother’s name and Y/B/N = your brother’s name

(gif cred)

“Do I really have to get one?” Draco whined in the middle of the phone store, getting his very first cellular device.

“Yeah, man. It's 2008 and you still write letters. Plus, your bird took a shit on my car,” Blaine said matter-of-factly. He found it funny that Draco still used an owl post for communication; the only other person Blaine knew that still uses an owl is his 97 year old grandmother. And even she has a landline in her house. “It's just easier and quicker to use. Why wait a whole day for a letter when you can just text me and I’ll respond in two seconds?”

“I’ve never even used a wall phone, how do you expect me to use a bloody cell-phone, Blaine?” Draco was fidgeting in his seat as he waited for the store employee to finish, what was it called, a credit score? Muggles sure are weird.

She came back shortly with a small, black box that had a weird word on it. What the bloody hell is an iPhone? She explained how it turned on, all the applications it carried, and details about billing and more. Draco was still confused about the whole thing but Blaine said that he would help him understand it better.

“Well look at you, Dray. A modern wizard in America,” Blaine jokes. Draco played with the new device, working out all the kinks of it. He sent his very first text message to Blaine at that moment. Took him precisely 5 minutes to type out a very bland, simple ‘Hello. -Draco L. Malfoy’

It made Blaine laugh so hard that he held his stomach. “My god, we’re gonna have to work on your texting skills, man. First things first, you don't have to sign your name at the end of a text. I know it's you.” Blaine explained to Draco all the fundamentals of texting as they walked through the halls of Santa Marie.

Throughout the day, Draco shared his new number with his department. The more he shared his number, the faster he became at typing.

At the end of his shift, he went to a nearby restaurant where he usually picked up dinner —not one to know his way around the kitchen — and headed home.

It's been a good week for him; his mother had sent him a letter everyday, he finished setting up the guest room for Theo and Blaise, he has this new phone, and best of all, Y/N had not crossed his mind once.

Now he still hasn't accepted what she does in her free time, but also he realized that she’s not exactly harming him nor did she know what he was. He's usually busy with all the work he does, anyway. It was quite a sudden change of heart. But mostly, it was his mother that was able to talk to him and change his views.

My dearest son, had it been during the time before the war, I would have agreed with you. But you have to understand that things are different now. You're different now. Now I am not forcing you, but maybe you should just talk with her just once. If not, just ignore her. After all, she only lives next door.

When he read the letter, he could practically hear all of his friends telling him ‘She's right, you know.’ And deep down, he knew it too. So he went with her advice: ignore Y/N.

—

You’ve had a terrible week; your assistant manager forgot to count the inventory which meant she also forgot to make an order for inventory. A group of teens stole a bunch of little vials of oils you had put on display. And to top it all off, a man stood in front of your shop with signs that had biblical verses written on them, blocking the entrance way and essentially driving away any potential customers. You called security but they never came.

You were used to this happening, it's happened all your life. But that didn't mean that it didn't hurt. I'm not harming anyone, so why does this happen to me? Next week, your mother was flying in from Maine to look around the house to make sure nothing would ‘freak Stephanie out.’ 

Driving back home, you were just waiting to mix some bath salts in your tub, play music, and relax for the next couple of days. By sheer coincidence, as you pulled in you noticed your neighbor that you now knew as Draco pull into his driveway.

This week can't exactly get worse you thought as your legs carried you to his front door. With gentle knocks on the door, you waited patiently. Being rejected once more didn't bother you, but you at least wanted to hear him speak to you and try your chance to become better acquainted.

Draco opened his door, his tie was undone and he looked confusingly at you. “Can I help you?”

Panic overcame your senses and without thinking, you blurted out, “Do you hate me?” You noticed his shocked face as it was probably not something he expected to hear.

“Excuse me, what exactly are you talking about?” he asked in his entrancing British accent. It was too late to take it back, so you just kept going with it. “I’m sorry, but you moved in here four months ago and you seem to have made friends with everyone around here but for some reason, you won’t even say ‘hi’ to me. Did I offend you or something?” You sounded exhausted and sad. Not only at the week you just had, but how Draco wasn’t being so neighborly with you as he was with everyone else on the street. It bothered you so much to no end. And the most frustrating thing was that you didn’t understand why.

“Uh, I apologize that we haven’t been on speaking terms but I don’t think I have to talk to you now, do I?” Draco scoffed. Why is he being such a jerk? “I’m not saying that you have to talk to me, but it’d be nice if you could at least wave or something. But instead, you look at me funny and ignore me. It’s kinda rude.” 

“Merlin, you muggles are so temperamental.” Draco said under his breath. The word sounded funny to you.

“Muggles? Did you just call me a muggle?” The look on Draco’s face didn’t go unnoticed. He stared at you for a few moments, not saying anything. What does that mean? “Is that what you call Americans in the UK? Doesn’t really sound nice.”

Draco started laughing mockingly at you, his grip on his door tightening and knuckles turning white, “Look, I don’t understand what it is exactly you want from me but I will say this; the fact that you are so offended that I won’t acknowledge you is honestly quite fucking childish and if you couldn’t get the hint then I’ll say it plainly for you now. I don’t. Wish. To. Be. Friends. With. You. Got it?” and with that, he slammed the door in your face.

Groaning out, you yelled at him through his door, “Fuck you then! I don’t wanna be friends with some rude prick!” You ran to your door and slammed it pretty hard. The sudden noise frightened your cat and made her run from her tower into your room. What the fuck is his deal? 

You walked to your room, pissed off and tired. Looking up, you saw Draco in his room. You stared each other down before you walked up to your window to close your blinds, flipping him off before it fully closed. Afterwards, you took a regular shower and went to bed. Anger built up inside you, and for probably the first time, you hated another human being. And you had to live next to him for god knows how long.

-

“I mean, did you really have to say that to her?” Ian and Ashley had just listened to Draco explain what had happened the night before. Ian just sat in the chair eating his lunch as Ashley responded to him. “I know things might be different in England, but you should’ve given her a chance. She could be nice. I have a couple No-Maj friends on my block.”

“I’m on Ash with this. Is it really all because she’s Wiccan? Be honest, Dray,” Ian chipped in. At that point, Draco didn’t really know what to say. He thought he could look past it, but he couldn’t. “Maybe, yeah. I come from two families that had very strict traditions and views of muggles. I thought I dropped those views but seeing first hand what they do and-”

“And it makes you feel like a freak? Because you’re a real wizard that can do magic and they sit in some weirdly drawn circle and ‘do’ magic?” Ashley finished Draco’s sentence, making quotation marks with her hands. “I get it, I really do. I was offended too when I had to read about No-Maj’s doing this during school. And then to see movies where witches are viewed as ugly, green-skinned hags with warts on her face and wear rags for clothes. Kinda brings you down as a kid. But I got over it. You should, too.” Ashley held Draco’s hand for a bit before she grabbed her coffee mug and left for her appointments.

Ian sat quietly, watching as Draco was sinking in everything he was advised. “Look man, it’s not really my business to be telling you what you should or shouldn’t like, and who you should or shouldn’t like. And you know what, you’re not exactly in the wrong to get mad about what happened. After all, she just kinda picked a fight with you out of nowhere.” Draco had a face that looked as if he was saying ‘Right? I’m not crazy here’

“But,” of course there’s a ‘but’, “from what I hear around the street, Y/N’s really nice. Super weird for sure, but an overall nice person. I think you should think about it.” Ian nodded at Draco before joining Ashley out of the breakroom. Draco sat there, thinking about what his friends said and also thought back to his mother’s letters. I’m such a child. And I’m the one that called her childish. If he was honest, you were but it didn’t make him better.

He knew what he was going to do after work. It pained him to have to apologize to someone. Apologizing wasn’t something he was exactly used to doing. He’s only done it once to Harry and his friends nearly three years after the Battle. He didn’t even really know what to say to you. But he’ll figure it out. Right?

-

You stood shocked at your doorstep, hands holding onto the sweater as you looked before you. “Mom, you’re here early.”

“I had been given an extra week off of work so I thought I’d just come and see my oldest baby before your brother and Stephanie comes. Also gives me a head start to plan our dinner and get this house situated,” your mother walked past you with her two large luggage cases and dropped them on your living room floor. She looked around the house and eyed all the decorations and pictures on the walls.

To her, everything was nearly normal. You had family pictures posted and some pictures of you and your friends from college. In the living room, you had a tapestry hung up behind your couch that used to belong to your grandmother. “Y/N please, will you take down that blanket? Why don’t you put up a picture of some flowers, or maybe something abstract?”

“Because I don’t want a picture of flowers and that’s not a blanket. It was Grandma’s. I want it hung up there. Ma, you gotta understand that it’s my house now.” Your arms were crossed due to the cold. You had the day off and tried to spend it well as you did your cleansing spell in the morning, but it seems that it wasn’t very effective seeing as your mother came in and immediately started nitpicking everything.

“It was cute in your room when you were a kid. But you’re 26 now. How would your boyfriend feel if he walked in here and thought ‘oh, didn’t know I was dating a 16 year old.’” Her constant criticism was nearly pushing you to the edge. “Ma, I don’t really want to argue with you tonight so I’m just going to bed-” a doorbell rang throughout the house and you were thanking whoever was listening for giving you a reason to walk away from your mother. 

As soon as you opened the door, you were met with another face that you weren’t exactly excited to see. “Can I help you?” you repeated Draco’s words from last night back at him in a spiteful tone.

Through gritted teeth, he looked at you and said, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for being an arse yesterday. I hope we can look past it and become well-acquainted neighbors.”

“Huh, you’re sorry? You don’t really sound it.”

“I know, I’m not really used to doing this,” Draco quipped. “But nonetheless, I would still like to apologize.”

“Yeah, whatever, I’m sorry too.” You were about to close the door until your mother came up and pushed the door completely open, “Honey, who’s at the door- oh! Hello, I’m Y/M/N. And you are?” She looked at Draco with the nicest smile that you had ever seen on her.

“Hello, My name’s Draco. Nice to meet you,” he awkwardly shook your mother’s hand. He didn’t smile, but he also didn’t have the usual scowl on his face when he would look at you. Guess he does have manners. “Y/N, is this a friend of yours?” your mother insinuated with a less than discreet wink. Without missing a beat, you replied, “No. Ma, this is my new neighbor. I just met him. But it’s late, so nice meeting you Draco. See you around.” And you closed the door.

“That was rude, Y/N. You should have invited him in. He’s very cute,” your mother grabbed her bags and headed into the guest room. From a distance, you could hear your mother speak to herself, saying ‘At least this room looks normal’. “It’s kinda late. Besides, we have all the time in the world to talk.” 

You walked to your small closet and grabbed the special bath salts for stress relief and walked to your bathroom. Starting to strip, your mother barged in. “Ma! Privacy, please!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I gave birth to you. Anyways, how long has it been since he moved in? Do you think he knows about your witchy stuff?” She asked as she stood by the door, checking her reflection as you continued to undress for your bath. “I don’t really hold a sign around my neck that says I’m a Wiccan, Mother,” you said with closed eyes. Your mother said, “I hope not. Night, baby,” and closed the door.

This is going to be a long three weeks.

-

The morning came and you woke up before your alarm and did your daily routine. The only difference was that your mother was going through your pantry looking for ingredients to make breakfast. “Morning, honey. Do you want some pancakes? I’ll make your favorites! It’s still blueberry, right?”

“No, that was Y/B/N. Mine are chocolate chip and peanut butter.” You said flatly as you grabbed your watering can. “Oh that’s right. But I already bought the blueberries.”

“That’s fine, they still taste good.” Your mother was satisfied with your response and started right away. You walked out to your front yard and watered your plants along the fence. The betony plants were beautiful, its sight was calming your nerves as you poured water over them. The sound of a door closing caused you to look up, watching Draco as he was standing in his yard with what seemed like a cigarette attached to his lips before he took it out and placed it onto an ashtray that was on his porch.

He walked over to the fence that separated your yards. The smell of the cigarette was in the air and it reminded you of your late father. “I meant it last night,” he mentioned his apology. You didn’t really know what to say so you just nodded and went back to watering your plants.

“But if I recall, you did start that fight,” he chuckled. You glared up at him for a few seconds before returning to your task. “Alright, I guess I’m sorry too.” Draco scoffed and just whispered ‘Whatever’ and walked away. “Wait,” you called for him before he walked back into his house and luckily, he stopped. “I’m sorry,” you said with sincerity. “Can we just start over?”

He stared at you, visibly contemplating your question then finally said, “Sure.” He walked into his house and you stood shocked in your yard. Your mother walked out and announced to you, “Honey! Breakfast is ready! Come on, I think your plants are watered enough.” With the snap of your screen door, you were released from your daze and walked inside. Maybe this week is turning around after all.

-

Draco sat in his room, not exactly sure what exactly happened. Was he really going to try and become friends with a muggle? He could imagine the look on his fathers face. Just because he had lost in the Battle, didn’t mean that he magically accepted muggles and muggle-borns. Narcissa didn’t like them much either but she also didn’t hate them as Lucius did.

This would shock not only his parents, but also his friends, Blaise and Theo. Merlin, the person that would probably have a field day about this would be Hermione Granger. He sat there, imagining Granger either laughing at him or cursing him after all the bullying he put her through. All those years of calling her a mudblood and he becomes friends with a muggle. A No-Maj. A Wiccan No-Maj. But then he thought about what Ian said at work. Y/N is really nice. Weird, but nice. And when he agreed to having a fresh start with you, he figured that it would give you a chance to prove him wrong about what you were like.

Or she could be exactly what I always thought muggles to be. Foolish.

—

next chp

(っ◔◡◔)っtaglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter @juneballoon999 @leydileyla @fangirlanotherjust @originalsoulcollector @opiomancy @lipstickandloveletters

[hyuniepot]

enigma || qian kun

e·nig·ma • /iˈniɡmə/ • noun

a person or thing that is mysterious, puzzling, or difficult to understand.

pairing || kun x reader

genre || college au

word count || 2,715

warnings || mentions of alcohol and smoking

author’s note || tbh this started out as a longer fic but... something in me really wanted it to end when it did. but maybe there could be a part 2 someday idk idk (also apologies for repeating text again, tumblr is rlly out to get me)

You’re annoyed.

It’s cold. Your shoes are soaked from walking through puddles left behind from the rain showers earlier in the day. Your best friend, Hana — the one who begged you to come to this party — was talking your ear off. Usually, dealing with her chatterbox self was easy, but you weren’t in the mood to talk.

“I think I’m nervous,” she says. “I feel like if I stop talking I’m gonna start freaking out! I mean, how am I supposed to be calm going to a party like this?”

You furrow your brows. “Don’t you go to parties like this every weekend?” you question.

You roll your eyes. “Sure,” you sigh. You spot a huge house coming into view with lights flashing from the inside and floods of people entering. “So, whose house is this?”

You roll your eyes. “Sure,” you sigh. You spot a huge house coming into view with lights flashing from the inside and floods of people entering. “So, whose house is this?”

You roll your eyes. “Sure,” you sigh. You spot a huge house coming into view with lights flashing from the inside and floods of people entering. “So, whose house is this?”

“Johnny’s,” Hana replies. “His parents own this place, but whenever they’re out of town, he uses it to throw the best parties at least once a year.”

“How cliche…” you mumble.

You finally enter the house alongside Hana. The loud music and all the smells immediately send you into sensory overload. Hana grabs onto your hand and leads you into the kitchen.

“Oh, hey!” A guy with brown hair greets Hana as soon as she walks in. “I’ve been waiting for you!”

“Johnny!” she grins. “Sorry for the wait, I took way longer getting ready than I wanted.”

“No problem, the party's just getting started! So I’m assuming this is the friend you were telling me about?” Johnny turns his attention to you. His gaze is intense.

Hana nods. “Yep, dragged them here with me. I just knew I had to, parties like this are always the best.”

Johnny nods, grinning slightly. His eyes are still burning into you. “She’s right. You’re gonna have a blast.”

You nod and smile just to be polite. Your eyes dart around the room trying to avoid Johnny’s. They’re like daggers. Hana grabs two drinks and before either of you have a chance to say anything, nods to a nearby doorway.

You follow her into the other room and take a seat next to her on an empty sofa. It doesn’t take long before she gets distracted again.

“Oh! Doyoung! Yuta!” she waves to two boys across the room. They both turn to her and smile before making their way over to where you were both sitting.

“Hey,” Doyoung says. You knew him pretty well, you had a class with him and a few mutual friends as well. “Didn’t know you guys would be here.”

You shrug. “Always expect the unexpected,” you joke, taking a red cup from Hana’s hand. You take a sip, cringing from the overwhelming taste of alcohol. You’re not sure why you expected it to taste good. But you had to tough it out and wait until you were buzzed enough to think the alcohol tastes good.

“You guys playing beer pong later?” Yuta asks, sitting down next to Doyoung. “I mean, we need a team we know we can beat,” he says, laughing.

Hana rolls her eyes. “Thanks for the invite, but no. We’re both terrible,” she says. “I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

Speak for yourself…

Out of the corner of your eye you see the front door fly open. A tall guy enters, both hands carrying cases of alcohol. Two other people are behind him; you only recognize one — Ten. He was known as “the hot exchange student from Thailand” for a few months before anyone you knew got the guts to talk to him just to find out he was a sweetheart. You had only talked to him a handful of times.

Everyone cheered as the person entered. You assumed it was Jaehyun since multiple people yelled his name. He beamed from all the cheering, dimples appearing on either side of his cheeks; he looked cute, there was no denying it.

Ten weaves his way around Jaehyun and makes his way to where you were sitting, the other boy following behind. Ten picks up a cup from the table. “God, finally I can drink. Jaehyun made me his designated driver as soon as I got here.”

“Is that your drink?” you ask. You were really hoping he didn’t just grab a random cup.

Ten takes a drink, shrugging. “Should be. Looks like it. I told Lucas to guard it but,” he sighs. “He’s nowhere to be seen. As usual. I should know better, asking Lucas to stay still at a party is impossible.”

He puts his arm around the boy standing behind him. “This is Sicheng, by the way. I think you know him, right Yuta?”

Yuta nods. “Yeah. We have a few classes together. Hey.”

Sicheng grins. “Hi, Yuta.”

Sicheng didn’t look like a party person. He looked like you; someone who was dragged to this party by their much more outgoing friend.

“Anyways. It was nice seeing you guys. We need to go find Lucas and Kun.” Ten says. And like that, Ten disappeared into a pool of people surrounding the area where you sat.

You didn’t know either of the people he listed; you were getting more and more used to that.

Jaehyun finally makes his way towards you, still carrying the cases of alcohol. He looks at Doyoung and Yuta and nods towards a group of people behind him. “Beer pong’s starting. Taeyong and Taeil want to take you guys on first.”

Doyoung downs the rest of his drink. “Got it. Let’s go win our first game of the night, Yuta!” They both get up and run out of the room.

“Hey, Jaehyun,” Hana smiles.

Jaehyun smirks. “Hey. It’s been awhile since I saw you last, how are you?” he asks.

“Oh, you know. The usual. Trying to survive my classes. This is my friend by the way, the one I was telling you about.”

They really must enjoy talking about me, huh?

You smile. “Hi.”

Jaehyun nods. “Nice meeting you finally. I’d give you a proper greeting, but,” he raises his arms. “Kinda busy.”

“Right!” Hana says. “Sorry for holding you up.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay. I’m kinda stalling going back into the kitchen, Johnny’s an hour ahead of me. He’s on the road of getting shitfaced,” he chuckles. “I’ll see you guys later, maybe.” he walks away from you and Hana and into the kitchen.

“Okay, let’s go.” Hana stands up and grabs your hand, almost spilling your drink in the process.

“Where?” you ask, getting up from your seat. It takes you a few seconds to collect yourself from almost tripping and spilling your drink.

Hana drags you through a group of people. “To watch the beer pong game! I’ll bet you five dollars that Yuta and Doyoung will lose.”

Everything went as per usual.

You weren’t even surprised as you stumbled up the stairs and through an unfamiliar hallway, praying to find an empty room you could lay down in.

After the first beer pong match (which Yuta and Doyoung lost, so you owed Hana five bucks), you lost Hana, but you stayed with Doyoung and Yuta for a while. You drank too fast and it all hit you at once. You felt nauseous and your head was pounding from the loud music that had been blaring for hours.

You open the first door you see. You see two people in bed. You slam the door shut. “Sorry…” you apologize, squeezing your eyes shut.

You shake your head and continue your way down the hallway. One door is open. You poke your head in, looking around to make sure it was empty and that no one was in the bed. It was empty. You enter, turning on a lamp next to the bed and sitting down on it.

You close your eyes in an attempt to try and soothe your head, but it’s pointless. You were burning up. Were you running a fever?

There’s a balcony connected to the room. You make your way to it and open the doors, the cool air instantly hitting you. It feels amazing. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You smell something familiar in all of this unfamiliarity; Cigarette smoke. It’s unmistakable.

You open your eyes, nearly jumping out of your skin when you see a figure standing on the leftmost side of the balcony. “Shit!” you cry out.

The person just looks at you, cigarette in between their fingers. They blow a puff of smoke before turning their head.

You put your hand on your chest. “Sorry. You scared me.”

“Don’t worry.” they say, sighing.

You step onto the balcony and go to the right, sitting down on a chair. “Um… and sorry for… intruding on you, I guess. I just needed some air.” you say softly. You look towards them.

“It’s alright.” they reply. They turn their head towards you, taking another puff from his cigarette. “I’m Kun.”

The name was familiar. “Kun…” you repeat. “You know Ten, right?”

Kun nods, chuckling a bit. “Yeah. That asshole brought me here knowing I absolutely hate parties.” he sits at a chair identical to yours on his side of the balcony. “I’ve been up here the whole night. I took my chance to hide once he left.”

You grin. “Nice. I don’t blame you. I’m… not much of a partier myself.” you say.

Kun taps his cigarette, small ashes falling from it. He catches you still looking at him. “What? Want a smoke or something?”

You shake your head. “No, no thanks… I don’t smoke.” you tell him.

“Hm,” Kun shrugs and takes another puff. “What are you scared of?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Cancer.”

Kun scoffs. “I’m not talking about the cig. I don’t care that you don’t smoke. I’m asking you what you’re really scared of.”

“Oh,” you say. He actually wants to have a deep conversation within five minutes of meeting. That might be a record. “I don’t know…” you cross your arms. Now that you had cooled off, the air was no longer relieving. “What are you scared of?”

“There’s a reason I asked you,” Kun replies, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe. “I’m not scared of anything.”

“Oh, come on.” you laugh. “Everyone has a fear, tough guy.”

“Really? Then why won’t you tell me yours?” Kun asks.

You pause. “Because I can’t think straight,” you admit. “And… I have a lot of fears,” you add softly.

“Like what? Death? Bugs?” Kun leans back in his chair.

“I’m scared of death.” you admit. “I don’t really like needles either… or the dark.”

“You have pretty reasonable fears.” Kun replies. “A lot of people tell me they’re scared of those things.”

“But not you, right?” you joke.

Kun shakes his head. “No. I’m still trying to figure out what I’m scared of. I’m not scared of death. I’m a smoker for God’s sake. Needles are gross but I wouldn’t say I’m scared of them. And I have no problem with the dark.” he explains. “Are you scared of the dark or the things in it?”

You think. “I guess the things in it. It’s the unknown.”

“Is that why you got scared when you saw me?” he asks.

You hesitantly nod. “Yeah. That’s the shit I hate.”

It falls silent. “Do you wanna go home?” Kun asks.

You almost get whiplash from how fast he changed the subject. “Depends,” you reply. “Are you trying to get me to come home with you, or…”

Kun chuckles and shakes his head. “No. I’m being serious. I can walk you home, I was planning on leaving after that cigarette.”

“Oh,” you feel your face get hot from embarrassment. “I guess… I live on campus though.”

“I do too,” Kun says, standing up.

“You do?” you join him. “I’ve never seen you.”

“I have morning classes and I don’t do much besides homework in the afternoon so… I’m not out of my dorm a lot unless I’m in dire need of food. Maybe that’s why?” Kun steps back inside and you follow. He closes the balcony doors.

“Yeah,” you had afternoon classes and you had the same schedule as him when it came to after school activities. You had probably passed him without realizing it. “That sounds about right.”

You follow Kun out of the room and down the hallway towards the other side of the house — there was a way to the back door from another staircase. You and Kun were able to leave the house without anyone noticing. Hana would be pissed if she found out you decided to ditch, but you knew she’d be too drunk to get mad. That was for tomorrow.

“Do you know Johnny or Jaehyun?” Kun asks. The party atmosphere slowly fades away.

“Not really. Mutual friends,” you reply. “I came with my friend who knows them pretty well.”

“Ah,” Kun nods. “I’ve known Johnny for a few years now… but you know, every college kid wants to be friends with the party animal so… I don’t get surprised anymore when everyone I meet somehow knows him.”

You chuckle. “I had no idea about all these parties…” you tell him.

“Lucky you,” Kun pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one. “I’m always dragged to these things, I end up enjoying them but sometimes but other times, like tonight, I’m just not in the mood. I just wanna sleep.”

“Ditto.” you reply. “Those things are bad for you, you know.” you tell him, as if he hasn’t heard that phrase a million times before.

“Really?” Kun asks, exhaling. “I had no idea.”

The smell of the smoke makes your headache return. But at the end of the day, it’s his body; there’s no point in shaming someone’s addiction.

“Sorry,” Kun sighs. “I know it’s rude to smoke on your face.” he takes one finaly drag before dropping the cigarette and putting it out.

“It’s okay.” you reply. “I’m sorry if I made you feel bad.” you didn’t know why, but you felt the need to apologize.

“Nah, don’t worry about that,” Kun laughs. “I’ve heard much worse from strangers. Ten is so dramatic about it I have to shower before I see him or he’ll tell me I smell because of the tobacco smell. I’m kinda used to it,”

You giggle. “Sounds exactly like Ten.” you say softly.

The walk back to campus was much shorter than the walk to Johnny’s — at least, it felt that way. Maybe because Kun wasn’t talking your ear off and making your blood boil at the same time.

“I’d love to chat more but, I think this is where we part ways.” Kun says, opening the doors. “I really gotta get to bed because I know Ten’s gonna call me in the morning and yell at me to come pick him up, so…”

You grin. “I’ll probably be in the same predicament,” you tell him.

He nods. “Goodnight.”

You return his nod and start to make your way back to your dorm, but something stops you. “Wait,” you turn to ask Kun if you could have his phone number or if you two could see each other again soon, but he was completely out of sight.

That is when you realized you didn’t want Kun to be a stranger.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Longing - Roman Godfrey (Hemlock Grove)

Kay, so, I’ve been rewatching Hemlock Grove recently and holy shit...I’ve never wanted someone to literally eat me alive more than Roman Godfrey. I have issues™

It’s Roman Godfrey...18+

~~~~~~~~~~

You looked down the hall of the school, feeling hurt.

You genuinely felt like you and Roman had a connection, talking all the time and flirting with each other. But you were currently witnessing Roman sucking face with some bleach blonde Barbie at her locker.

Rachel, probably the sweetest girl in the whole town and kind of a suck up. She wasn’t the type of girl that Roman usually went for, but he had been known to never step down from a challenge.

It was fine...it was fine. But what you didn’t understand was ever since he got into a relationship with Rachel, he’d ignore you...after being friends for years.

You two knew almost everything about each other, even all the family drama. You just didn’t understand how the person who you’ve been closest to could just up and ditch you like that.

Maybe he just got tired of you...everyone else had. So, why would Roman be any different?

You sighed and closed your locker door, slamming it a bit too hard. It got the attention of Roman, who quickly noticed your sour attitude.

You ignored his questioning gaze and walked out of the front double doors of the school, trying to be excited about spring break.

You immediately went to your dealer after school, wanting to get fucked up and forget all about Roman and his new, perfect girlfriend.

Your usual order was a couple grams of weed, but you had a gut feeling that you were gonna need something a bit stronger than grass to temporarily soothe your heartache. It was stupid, really stupid...but you bought MDMA. Just a couple pills. 

It was also kinda out of curiosity too.

You had heard of one of the other rich kids throwing a party to kick off spring break. Even if Roman was there, you wanted to go and have some fun.

You went home and quickly got dressed up.

You weren’t really the type to dress up fancy, usually just wearing casual clothes, sweaters, blue jeans and such. But you wanted to feel sexy, just once.

You decided on a short black dress that was flowy at the bottom and pushed up your girls slightly, some fishnet tights and your favorite platform boots that had some gems on the tips.

You curled your hair slightly and attempted to do a smoky eye. It was kind of a success? You hoped so at least.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you almost hoped that Roman would be at this stupid party.

You planned on heading to the party about an hour after it officially started.

You carefully made a couple joints for the party, putting the pills in a little container. Crushing up some more weed, you put it in your bowl that Roman bought for you. Sighing at the memory, you put your lighter to the bowl.

After taking a few puffs, you could already start to feel more relaxed and a little ditzy.

You smiled for the first time today, you fucking loved drugs.

An hour later, you were completely stoned, giggling at absolutely everything. But you started to walk to the party, stumbling along the way occasionally.

From down the road, you could already hear the booming base from the unnecessarily loud music and the chatter of drunken young adults.  

To think, this might be one of the last high school party you’ll ever go to besides the probable end of senior year party. You suddenly felt old even though you still 18.

You chuckled seeing a couple people throwing up in the bushes outside front entrance. “Take it easy, lads!” You teased, earning a couple middle fingers thrown your way.

You quickly noticed the red convertible in the driveway, suddenly feeling the buzz of your high retreat back. “Great...”

Upon entering the house, your eyes trained on Roman and Rachel in the corner, her sitting on his lap on the crowded living room couch.

Roman saw you too, all dressed up in the fashion that was unusual for you to wear.

You rolled your eyes, heading to the alcohol bar and making your own cocktail of vodka and orange juice.

Chugging the first cup was a bad idea, the vodka burning your throat. But you made another cup anyway.

You took your first pill and it definitely didn’t take long for it to kick in. “Fuck...” You laughed, feeling happier than usual, almost tearing up at the feeling.

A song you loved came on the speakers, feeling the melody in you soul. You needed to dance.

You shoved yourself in between all the sweaty dancing bodies, letting yourself let go and sway to the beat.

You suddenly felt hands on your hips.

You looked back over you shoulder, seeing a familiar. Some guy from your English class. He wasn’t really your type, but you really couldn’t really care less. The hands on your hips slowly making their way south made you feel like you were on fire, despite it not being the hands you wanted.

Unbeknownst to you, Roman was watching intensely. His face felt hot with rage. He did not like what he was seeing.

The girl on his lap was kissing his neck, trying to turn him on. But all that was on his mind was beating the shit out of the guy who was putting his hands all over you.

He really thought dating Rachel would get you jealous enough to make a move, but apparently it didn’t work. He sighed, he had to do something.

The push it took for him to finally do that was when he saw the guy you were with lead you up stairs of the house. Roman could already sense the hard on that the piece of shit of a male had.

No.

He wasn’t gonna let you get manhandled by that nobody on his watch, didn’t matter if you wanted it. You were his and that was that.

Meanwhile, you were currently getting a hickey from this random guy in a spare room in this rich kid’s house. You felt nether regions heat up with desire. “Roman...” You accidently moaned out, then suddenly feeling the pleasure on your neck stop.

You opened your eyes to see the guy had been pulled off you harshly, being shoved to the floor by a tall man. “You heard her you shitheel, she wants me. Not you.”

“Roman?” You gasped.

“Get the fuck outta here.” Roman yelled at the fallen guy, who immediately listened and rushed out the room.

Roman turned around to see you glaring at him. “What the fuck, Y/N?”

You scoffed. “Where’s your girlfriend?” You spat.

Roman rolled his eyes. “What the fuck are you on, huh?” He asked, completely ignoring your pettiness.

“What’s it to you?”

Roman sighed. “Alright, let’s take you home.” He gently grabbed your arm, pulling you up from the bed.

“Get your fucking hands off me, Godfrey.” You pulled away, but you went along with him anyway, not really interested in getting carried to his car.

“MDMA, huh? Thought you only smoked weed.” Roman smirked, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Rachel, huh? Thought you only went for cunts.” You retorted.

“I was trying to make you jealous.”

You swore your heat almost skipped a beat, but you tried to keep your cool. “Well, it didn’t work.” You crossed your arms. “You could’ve just told me, Roman.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Roman chuckled, scratched the back of his neck.

You sighed heavily, feeling the high coming down. It was bothersome, but you currently wanted to be sober.

Roman glanced at you, seeing your dress was slowly riding up your thighs. He licked his lips. “You know, when I saw you in that dress, all I wanted was to rip it off you.”

You felt shivers down your spine, already feeling that familiar desire fill you. “Oh yeah? Tell me more.”

Roman smirked. “You should be fucking’ ashamed, dressing that like. Making me feel all sorts of things. You wore it just to get me all riled up, huh? And those tight, fuck...”

You exhaled shakily when you saw Roman turn onto the road that led to his house. “Mm, please hurry Roman. I don’t know how much longer I can wait for you.” You chuckled nervously.

You almost jolted back when Roman sped up the car. He took one hand off the steering wheel, placing it on your thigh and kneading the meat. Slowly but surely trailing up to your inner thigh.

You opened up so he could have better access, and he put his fingers moved your underwear to the side, hastily rubbing tight circular motions on your bundle of nerves.

You moaned out his name, gripping onto the seat below you as he worked his magic. “You’re so fucking wet for me already, huh?” Roman chuckled, already feeling himself stiffen.

But your pleasure had to come to a temporary end when his large mansion finally came into view.

Roman quickly lead you into his house, making a snide comment to Olivia before leading you up the staircase with haste.

“You’re not gonna walk right for a month after I’m through with you.” Roman said lowly, making you even more excited.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for the blueball, but I really didn’t feel up to writing a whole smut scene lol.

[dramaphan]

Fuck it live reaction

•the little Dan pop ups while I wait for it to start are annoying but I did giggle at “not much longer before I ruin what’s left of my career by exposing what really goes on in my head” buddy what are you talking about

• the intro is… uh.

• oh we’re on the floor suddenly alright okay coolcoolcool

• oh my god

• actually fuck it I’m gonna do a count every time he tries to act single: 6

• god I hate that jacket

•Dan you’ve been out for two years genius

• oh fcuk alright is this the cry part

• commitment issues counter: 1

• I was gonna make a comment about the straight people shoutout but then he blew a kiss and it broke me STOP IT

• Dan it’s pride month can we lighten up a little

• so we’re in his brain and each door is a moment he didn’t feel proud okay we guessed this

• I have some fucking feelings about Dan always telling stories about himself and saying shit like “this will traumatize me but it might help you lol” like can we cut that the fuck out maybe

• “I’m just the subject of some sad charity advert” then leave

• door 1 door 1 door 1 fear I’m afraid fear fear

• oh fuck it’s him there he is!!! My favourite white boy!!!

• I hate the acting. All around hate it

• I’m not sure how I’m supposed to react to what’s happening right now

• Phil entered the brain through door 1 and exited through a different door is this going to be significant

• like should I be looking for symbolism in this thing

•a pop star what???

• we’re backstage on tour now. Which tour who knows

• why am I anxious

• who are theeeyyyy?????

• are these real phannies or paid actors

• the redhead telling Dan off yes queen get his ass

• through the help of Tumblr??? Which one of you is a tattletale

• oh man what fucked up thing has Dan tweeted lately that I can blame on this

• I’m in love with this redhead ma’am hand in marriage???

• this is kinda fun

• name them! Shame them!

• it was granny wasn’t it

• we’ve heard about this girl a couple times now I wonder if they still talk

• TEA NAOMI ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS

• DO IT PUSSY DO IT PUSSY

• I love these guys I still can’t tell if they’re actual fans or not but fuck what a bunch

• oh

• oh???? Return of the dil head???? I didn’t think I’d be right about that

• new door pride parade outfit let’s goooo

• oh there’s an upstairs to this door go up there dan shh stop yapping go up the stairs

• this thing actually is way more Dan centric than I was expecting it to be

• where are we going now I wanted to go upstairs 😠

• sing break

• I’m skipping over the musical number sorry will

• I think I’m blacking out this whole conversation I just cannot pay attention can we go upstairs yet

• Dan looks like he’s gonna burst into tears dude are you good

• we’re really not gonna go upstairs are you kiDDING ME

• now we’re opening the door Phil left through time to find out if that meant something or if I’m a phannie freak

• couldn’t afford a llama we could see? That’s just floating eyes

• turns out I was a phannie freak

• last door lights weird fear

• now we’re going back in the tour door??

• we’re in. Hollywood.

• wait is Tyler Oakley the guy we like but want to stay away from nice

• realizing I have not laid eyes on Tyler in a long time who is this guy

• I’ve always really liked Dan and Tyler’s dynamic this is fun I’m having fun

• “it wasn’t a secret that I had a secret” is probably the best way to wrap all of that up in a neat little package

• “people see you liking a tweet from somebody and they think there must be something there” looking directly at you, phannies

• Dan came out a completely different door??? Am I the only one keeping track of the doors???

• final door final door fuck hell fuck

• oh fuck OFF

• fuck off fuck off fuck off

• thank god we left I’m not ready for that either

• oh the brain is gone we’re just on the floor now

• oh god there’s a ghost in the room

• “you’re a woman” “all the sensible people are” YES BITCH

• Dan’s fairy godmother is the smartest person in this video so far

• Dan… getting strapped by his fairy ghost. Alright

• aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

• I’m so uncomfortable with the aura coming off teenage Dan as played by grown up Dan this guy smells

• are we ending it here???? Please say something funny you can’t leave me with THAT

• looking for Phil owowowoowoOW

• THERE HE IS AGAIN!!!

• I’m nervous I’m shitting nervous shitting

• Phil sent him back through the llama door

• there’s a guitar and a baseball bat on the table when he’s talking about doing things he wants to do??? Carrie Underwood era???

• WRECK IT ROOM WRECK IT ROOM

• there’s something funny about him destroying things like the piano and the all black wardrobe as if we don’t know that he’s going to continue to make those things his personality

Alright it’s over final review: it was way better than I was expecting actually. Still wouldn’t consider it a “””Dan video””” but it’s at least content which is more than we’ve gotten in over 3 years so beggars can’t be choosers I guess. Not bad. Decent use of an hour of my time.

[carolsideblog]

Undiagnosed Autism in Adults | Being Shamed for Special Interests

What is a Special Interest?

I’m 27 and I have autism.

Therefore, I have special interests. Generally speaking, in the context of the autistic spectrum disorder, a special interest is... just genuinely hard for me to describe or explain? Here are some links with definitions of special interests.

Autism Fandom Wikia

Ambitious About Autism

Amythest Schaber - Ask an Autistic, What are Special Interests?

Purple Ella - Autism & Special Interests 

... long post ahead / cw for cussing and swearinig ...

The Comfort of my Special Interests

My special interests are things that I’m deeply passionate about and something that I latch onto, almost as a coping mechanism. I have a variety of special interests that shift in and out of focus through out the months in a year, but I could prattle on and ON AND ON for HOURS about any of them.

When I’m immersed in my current favorite special interest, I am over the moon. I feel productive, the world makes sense, I feel like my life makes sense, and I can calm down faster from a stressful, overwhelming day.

Adulthood and the Expectations of Neurotypicals

But in adulthood, it’s generally not seen as a mature thing for an old woman in her twenties to STILL be fucking talking about “dumb shit.” Shit that’s “bad,” shit that’s “problematic,” or shit that’s not for “my age group.”

I don’t fucking know what women in their late twenties are supposed to do. I’m not a sensible enough of an adult to know.

I also know very well that my shit is problematic, bad, and/or not for my age group. I probably researched 5 hours straight on my special interest for nearly a month when I discovered it. I know books, games and movies that I’ve taken a shine to forwards and backwards, I know deep-cut fandom jokes in different things I like, I know who created what and when.

But this isn’t impressive to anyone. To the rest of neurotypical society, one needs to have a bunch of light hearted little hobbies that you can switch too whenever you want because that’s “healthy.” It’s “not healthy” whatsoever (apparently) to STILL be talking about something that I love, because I’m an adult and I should have hobbies and I should have a job filing away things and writing data in spreadsheets like a good little working woman.

Or whatever, I don’t know.

Guilt, Shame and Stigma

I just... don’t understand why people shame people for the things that bring them joy, even if the things that bring them joy are objectively poor quality or badly made. The things I love make me happy, and they make me happy for lots of different reasons.

Some reasons include...

It was close to my childhood and I have a strong attachment to it

It was the lifeline I clung onto when I was going through a rough part of my life and the memories I have of it bring me comfort

I felt proud investing time in researching information, collecting memorabilia, and becoming an “expert” in that special interest

To me, my special interests were so important to my ability to cope, it got to the point where some parts of them became almost like an addition to my identity; my special interests are part of who I am and how I navigate the world. It might come from not really having a strong sense of self in the first place, I don’t know.

So when people scold me for still talking about my special interests, or make passive aggressive, off-hand comments about my special interests, or when they’re even out-right criticizing my special interests, (”It’s a bad book, it’s a bad game, the movie sucks,”)

Even if I know they’re right, it feels like an attack on me. It feels like they’re scolding me for liking the things I like. It feels like they’re criticizing me for liking something bad. It feels like they’re being passive aggressive and unfair because they don’t like me.

Rationally and logically I know this isn’t true. But it still feels like an emotional punch in the gut. It still feels like people are policing what I should and shouldn’t like. And it pisses me off and makes me ruminate.

An Open Letter to Neurotypicals 

Hello, ally.

Life is hard. You and I both know that. But thankfully, there are loads of things in this world that can bring us joy. We have lots of things to keep us entertained, to socialize over, and to be passionate about.

But I get it: someone in your life keeps talking about that one thing all the time. Maybe you’re tired, maybe you’ve heard so much about this thing before, you’ve had enough or got bored. I dunno? But you’re tank is empty and you need a break, and that’s fair.

If for whatever reason your friend won’t shut up about something they really seem to love and it makes them happy... Be nice about it I guess?

If I could say anything to any neurotypical that I’ve spoken too in my lifetime right now, it’s this: be frank, honest, and straightforward. Don’t beat around the bush and don’t “drop hints.” Don’t always rely on people figuring it out for themselves. Just because things might come naturally to you doesn’t mean those same things come naturally to others. And this is okay, I only ask that you communicate clearly and honestly when you can.

If a topic is getting tiresome to you and you need a break, just tell them. Most of the time, it will be fine. When you’re up for it and wondering about a hobby or interest that someone told you about, bring it up with them again. It might brighten their day.

You don’t have to participate in the special interest of a friend if you don’t want too. Just be there for your friends, lend an ear if you can, and be supportive.

An Open Letter to the Neurodiverse

Hello, friend.

Don’t let people get you down about your special interests. If there’s something in this world that makes you passionate, that keeps you up at night because you’re so excited, that makes you rush to wake up  because you want to do your Favorite Thing in the Entire World™, then please keep embracing that thing.

It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t fit the standards of neurotypicals. You don’t have to please people. If people are giving you a hard time because something makes you happy??? They’re probably not the right people to be around anyway. Someone in your life just kinda humoring you and you wish you had more? Same! But it’s okay. People who love you are listening as best they can, but please, I promise you if you keep looking, you will find your like-minded people and you will be able to find people to talk about your passions with.

If it makes you happy, if it brings you joy, if it brings you comfort, please don’t let that go if people keep nagging you for it. You have no reason to feel guilty or ashamed for something that helps you cope, that keeps you grounded, that makes you happy.

Also know that as much love and joy and comfort that your special interest gives you... remember you are still a whole entire person. You can wear your special interest as apart of you if you feel that brings you the most honest and genuine comfort and joy, but just remember that you don’t need to be limited to just this one thing. You have full permission to also be anything else you want to be in addition to this special interest. This is not to scold or shame you, but this is to remind you that you are a valid, whole person, and you are allowed to transform however you want too.

Closing Ramblings and Musings

I’ve been really bothered by this.

Like I’ve been thinking about this a lot, on again and off again, since November.

Through out my life, people have made lots of comments about my hobbies and the things I like. Most of them negative.

From the music I like to listen too, the bands and groups I follow, to the books I loved to read, to the movies I like to watch, to the games I love to play. I have my own genuine criticism and critiques that I have for a variety of things that fall under my special interests. I’m passionate and thorough with my feedback because I love all of my special interests so much, and I know they could be better.

I have a lot of complex feelings and a lot of things to reconcile with my special interests. It’s so hard to grow up and start to learn and realize how... bad they are all. How problematic some are, how poor quality or laughably simple they all are. I can give you all of my different reasons for why I like them and I could tell you all day about how I know they’re all bad... but I know some of the things I love are just laughing stocks and punching bags in pop culture to the neurotypical society. 

But I can’t just let them go. That’s what I couldn’t stop thinking about in November and December. I really just couldn’t let these things go. For personal reasons, for nostalgia reasons, for coping reasons. I love these things. And I carry a lot of guilt and frustration with myself because I can’t let these things go. I can’t just switch to new fandoms, new books, new movies, new groups. At least, maybe not yet. I don’t know.

I just don’t know. I want to reclaim the parts I love but I know that It’s not a real solution. There’s such a major divide between the special interests I love and what I actually believe in and stand for. They directly conflict with each other and it’s frustrating and complicated.

I really don’t know how to close this post, to be honest. This post won’t solve the problem I have. It won’t explain to the people who scolded me for my special interest, it won’t make them understand or forgive me about why I keep talking about a stupid book with a bad premise, it won’t make them understand why I have “bad taste” or why a 27 year old woman won’t shut up about something largely assumed “meant for kids.”

This was just to vent and maybe lend hope to people feel the same way or have the same struggles.