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ivysangel · 10 months

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READ BETWEEN THE LINES (JASON TODD)

NOTES/CW - continuation of this post, literally just straight up porn, fem!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, -17 dni, my first time writing smut in this format so plz be nice this shit is NOT for the weak !!! (1.7k)

It's about an hour before Jason caps the highlighter in his hand, having skimmed over the entire book in record time, picking out five or six quotes that would boost your essay into A territory. Except, you weren't concerned about the essay or what grade you got. Yeah, sure, when you had first invited him over, it was genuinely because you needed feedback, but now you have the feedback

"It's written well, only problem is that you need better quotes."

You remember his words as clear as day because they're the reason why Jason had been occupied with your assignment and not the ache between your legs. Now that his perusal of quotes was over, finished, done, and the book was closed, you could finally get relief from something other than your thighs being squeezed together so tight the blood flow was being cut off from your lower extremities.

He carefully cleans up the area, stacking papers strewn across the table and putting pens away. It may have seemed like he was just tidying the table, but you knew that he was messing with you. Typically, you wouldn't give in so easily, but your body was getting hotter by the second, and there was a thin sheen of sweat forming on your back.

God, it was hot. The room was hot, your sweater was hot, and your boyfriend was so fucking hot; and so fucking annoying.

"Jason," you murmur, shifting in your seat as his eyes rake up your figure, shrouded in cozy brown wool. "you said...please, can you just-"

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head, raking a hand through jet-black hair. He slides the chair back, stands up, and walks over to where you sit. Hovering over you and looking down at your face, which could only be described as pitiful. Your eyes are wide, and your mouth's parted slightly as you manually breathe. Yeah, you look pathetic, but it's not surprising, given the tortuous amount of arousal you were feeling and how badly you needed to get it out of your system.

"Jason." you say again, needier this time. "you said you would..." You trail off, pleading eyes find his as he looks down at you amusedly. His hands make their way to your cheeks, and he tugs at your head ever so slightly, prompting you to stand up.

"You're cute when you get like this," he says before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. You bring your arms around his neck, tugging him closer to you and deepening the kiss. It very quickly devolves into a mess of tongue as your hands eagerly roam his body, sliding up his shirt and running over the rippled abs he keeps hidden away.

"Woah, easy girl," he says, pulling back, and you whimper at the sudden absence of contact between you. "I'm not gonna fuck you standing up." He looks up for a second, seemingly in thought, "At least not today."

The next part happens fast. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up and around his waist, and you gasp at the sudden lack of floor beneath your feet. One hand stays on your leg while the other finds the small of your back, and he walks you over to the couch, laying you down gently.

"You're so impatient sometimes, you know that?" his hands push your sweater up a bit, and you grab the hem, pulling it over your bra and holding it at your neck. "I waited for like two hours." you breathe out as he places a few wet, open-mouthed kisses on your stomach before moving downwards and unbuttoning your jeans, tugging them and your underwear down in one swift movement. "oh, but I'm the impatient one."

He comes back up to your face, a dumb fucking grin playing on his lips, and he kisses you so gently you're slightly taken aback. "I love you," he says, nuzzling his face into your neck and breathing in your scent.

"Love me so much you're skipping the foreplay?"

"Watching you try not to finger fuck yourself for two hours was the foreplay, babe."

You tug at the hem of his shirt, and he gets the message, sitting up for a second and pulling it over his head. He tosses it over the side of the couch, then climbs off you to move onto his pants, and you take the opportunity to lift yourself slightly, removing what was left of your outfit before looking over your shoulder and tossing it behind you. When you turn back around, you're met with the bright pink tip of Jason's cock, white beads of pre-cum collecting on his tip. You've seen him naked dozens of times. Touched him, sucked him, fucked him; dozens of times. But you never really get used to how attractive he is and how much more turned on you get when you see how turned on he is by you.

He pulls you towards him by the foot, and you giggle, knowing what's to come. A calloused hand grabs hold of one of your legs, lifting it up and exposing your cunt. The inside of your thighs, already soaked from the sheer amount of wetness coming from your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he breathes, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, tilting your head down to see what he sees. Even you're shocked at how much your own folds were glistening. You glance up at him, and he gives you a questioning look, a silent "Do you think we need to prepare?" and you take another peek in between your legs, decidedly shaking your head no.

Still holding your leg up with one hand, he grabs his cock with the other, stroking it a couple times and coating it in pre-cum, before lining it up with your entrance. You feel his tip prodding at your hole, and you bite down on your lip, already imagining how good it'll feel when he's inside you.

"You ready?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

He slides inside of you with little resistance, but you still feel how agonizingly good the stretch is. He lets out a long, drawn-out groan, stilling completely before pulling out and pushing back in all the way. He moves steadily, rocking his hips back and forth, in and out. Each stroke hits deep, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. The thickness of his cock giving you an ache so good you think you might die if you never got to experience it again. He quickens his pace a little, your tits bouncing every time his hips make contact with your pussy, and your hands find the cushions of the couch, gripping them every time he hits your sweet spot.

His free hand grabs your other thigh, pushing it towards you, and you hook your arms under your knees, bringing them to your chest, allowing him to reach even deeper than before. He leans in closer, pressing your legs further into your body, and your thighs ache. Still, the pleasure you feel overshadows the pain by a long shot.

A few groans escape Jason's lips, he's never been much of a talker during sex, and you've never really cared because the sounds he makes are enough to keep you clenching around his dick until the end of time. "Fuck." he mutters, and that alone is enough to make the familiar knot in your stomach start to unravel. You unhook one of your arms and squeeze your hand into the incredibly tight space between your legs, rubbing fast circles around your clit, while you feel Jason's pace start to falter.

Your back arches, and you lean your head so far back into the couch that you can't see his face anymore. The lewd sounds of your cunt sucking up his dick fill the room, and it's only a few seconds before you start seeing white. An overwhelming sense of euphoria washes over your body as you dig your nails into the soft cushion of the couch, and he fucks you through your orgasm, continuously kissing your cervix until you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he spills hot streams of cum inside your cunt.

Your lungs painfully expand as you try to make up for the lack of oxygen from holding your breath through your orgasm, and you tilt your head forward into a position where you can see him. Your hand makes its way up into his hair, his head hanging low, face out of view as you both catch your breath. You tug at his locks lightly, and he lifts his head, following your eyes to the legs that were squished between the two of you. Pulling back from you and holding himself up with his arms, he gives you space to stretch out on either side of the couch. You finally get a good look at him as he sits above you, hair clinging to his forehead, cheeks flushed red, and light-catching on the little bit of sweat clinging to his skin. God, you could fuck him again right now.

"You need to be spayed. This can't keep happening," he says, knowing exactly what you're thinking.

"What am I, a fucking cat?" you ask, feigning offense.

"No, but you have the libido of one in heat." he leans down again, hovering above your face, breathing out a shaky laugh. And even though your legs have gone limp, and your lungs hurt from how heavy you've been breathing, you still clench around him, seemingly ready to go again. "Nope," he says, climbing off you and gently pulling out. You wince, the sudden emptiness unbearable. He's right; you do need to be spayed.

"I know you have the stamina for it," you joke, eyes following him as he picks up various articles of clothing off the floor before taking them to the hamper in the bathroom. You hear the sound of water running, and he returns with a wet rag in hand. "I know I do," he walks over to you, lifting one of your legs to give him better access to the mess between your thighs. "the question is, do you?"

You let out an airy laugh, watching him furrow his brows as he wipes down your legs, intent on cleaning you up. "Wanna find out?" you ask; he looks up from the mess to see the grin on your face before returning to the task at hand.

"There's something seriously wrong with you."

i hope you guys enjoyed this, it literally stressed me tf out !! again, my first time writing like a real smut scene so if it's not good then yk why. tell your favorite smut writers you love them because i can tell you from experience, this is much harder than it seems !!

#divider by benkeibear #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd smut #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood smut #jason todd lover

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gudfornuthin · 1 month

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Unexpected Comfort

Season 4!Diego x fem!reader, (past) Five x reader

! SPOILERS AHEAD !

! MINORS DNI !

Summary: after finding out the news about Lila and Five’s relationship, Y/N needs to get away from it all. Who knew she’d find comfort in the one other person broken too?

Word count: 2.65k words

A/N: ayooo. I wanna thank everyone for the support I received from my Five fanfic, it means the world to me that people read and enjoy my writing. I’m definitely thinking about ideas for a part 2, and I also have some requests I need to complete, but for now this lil thing popped into my head and I had to make it. My sweet Diego deserved so much more. There’s fluff, there’s angst, there’s a lil bit of smut (I’m trying to get better at writing that lol) so I hope you all enjoy. Feedback is always appreciated

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

Those were the words that came out of Five’s mouth before Y/N stormed out of the house, leaving behind the shocked faces of the Hargreeves siblings.

Five had cheated on her. With Lila. Diego’s wife, the mother of his children. She felt like throwing up. They’d created a life together, seeming to forget all about the life they had here, in the real world. Five tried explaining how a few hours to her had been years for him and Lila, but Y/N wasn’t having it. She couldn’t imagine giving up on a relationship she’d spent so long working on, like it meant nothing at all. At least they weren’t married with kids. She doesn’t want to think about how much this is killing Diego.

Having left the house, ignoring the calls from the family, Y/N continued walking for what seemed like hours. She wasn’t familiar with this side of town, and the dark streets all blended together. Had she already gone this way? Was there a bus stop she could seek shelter under for the time being? The night was getting colder and she was finding it hard to catch her breath, the tears still flowing. She knew she couldn’t continue on for much longer.

After walking a few more blocks, Y/N finally spots a bar/diner, the lights still on inside. Better than nothing, she thinks, as she slowly makes her way towards it, in desperate need of a drink.

The diner is quiet, only a few patrons scattered around, either drunk or on the verge of passing out. The bar tender nods in acknowledgment when Y/N sits on one of the bar stools, asking what she wants.

“I’ll just have a beer.”

The bar tender rolls his eyes. “What kinda beer?”

Y/N shrugs. “The cheapest one you’ve got.”

He wonders off to sort out her order, as she rests her head in the palms of her hands, closing her eyes and trying not to sob like a baby. The pain in her chest still lingers, as she can’t escape the images of Five and Lila, and the life they had made together. The life that should’ve been hers. With everything going on, she’d almost forgotten about the world ending, again. But that was surprisingly the least of her worries at the moment. She just wanted to scream, and punch and kick anything that got in her way. She needed a cigarette. And she doesn’t even smoke.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

A voice sounds off to the side of Y/N, as she slowly opens her eyes. A beer bottle stands in front of her, and she turns to her left, spotting Diego in the seat next to hers. He looks worse for wear. Red eyes, prominent frown lines, and a pouty lip.

“You look like a kicked puppy,” Y/N mumbles, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Diego replies in a gruff voice, grabbing for her beer and taking a swig.

The pair go quiet, listening to the soft tune playing through the overhead speakers, dwelling in their own thoughts. The two of them had never exactly been close. Since Y/N joined the family she’d always gravitated more towards Klaus and Alison. Frankly, she didn’t understand why Diego was here with her. Maybe because they were both dealing with the same situation, with both their partners being the main focal point. Or maybe he was just in desperate need for a drink too, as shown when he downs the rest of the bottle. Y/N alerts the bar tender, putting up two fingers to ask for a second round. Hopefully she can actually have some this time.

“Was I a bad husband?” Diego finally speaks up, breaking the somewhat awkward silence.

Y/N glances his way, unsure of how to respond.

She clears her throat. “I dunno if I’m the right person to answer that,” she scratches at the label on the beer bottle. “But from what I saw, you were pretty good at it.”

He doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “And you’re also a good dad. I can’t imagine how hard it was, going from one apocalypse to another, to just living a normal life. Pretending none of it ever happened. You didn’t let that get in the way of taking care of your kids. They know you’re a good dad.”

She notices the tears forming in Diego’s eyes and looks away, knowing he wouldn’t want others to see him cry. She sips her drink, the burning sensation hitting the back of her throat.

“For what it’s worth,” Diego starts, “you’re not a bad girlfriend.”

“I never thought I was,” Y/N bites back, her tone harsher than she wanted it to be. “But what are you supposed to think when the love of your life admits to having an affair?” She laughs bitterly. “With his fucking sister in law!”

“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here,” Diego says, rubbing incessantly at his eyes. “Just tryna make you feel better.”

“Well you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

They bask in silence again, both too stubborn to apologise for snapping at each other. They know neither of them are in the wrong. But the wounds are still fresh, and it doesn’t seem like they’ll heal anytime soon.

Almost an hour passes, along with 9 or 10 bottles of beer between them, when the bartender finally tells them it’s closing time. They both get out of their seats, leaving the bar and standing awkwardly outside in the cold, Y/N shivering having left the house without a coat.

“You cold?” Diego dumbly asks.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Well done, Sherlock.”

Diego looks as if he’s about to say something in retort, but chooses not to. Instead, he silently slips off his jacket, handing it over to her, insisting she takes it before she can refuse. She does so, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’. They continue standing outside the bar, watching the occasional car drive past, lighting them up every so often.

“I can’t go back there,” Y/N says. “Not yet anyways.”

It was a stupid thing to think that this could all be avoided. She’d eventually have to face Five properly, let him explain fully what happened during that time he was away. But she couldn’t. She doesn’t want an explanation, or an excuse. She just wants it erased from her memory. To forget about it all. To forget about Five.

Diego puts his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood to figure out that shit show tonight.”

He pauses for a beat, then briefly glances at Y/N. “There’s a motel not too far from here. We can grab a couple of rooms, take the time to get some rest, and figure all this out tomorrow.”

She doesn’t say anything, simply nodding in agreement, and following Diego to their accommodation for the night.

***

The pair arrive at the dingy looking motel, booking two rooms next to each other, and muttering quick goodnights. Y/N can feel the exhaustion taking over, as she sits down on the bed, and yet the thought of falling asleep makes her anxious. She can’t remember the last time she went to bed alone. It was always Five right by her side, comforting her if she had any nightmares. Which had become more and more frequent the past few weeks.

She tries distracting herself by turning on the tv, flicking through empty channels and purposely avoiding the news. She takes a shower, scrubbing off the physical and metaphorical grime. It helps her feel slightly better, but still she’s wide awake. She walks laps around the room, which isn’t much considering the bed takes up most of the space. And yet she still can’t sleep.

Her mind wanders to the man in the room next to hers. Is Diego having the same issues as she is? Or has he completely worn himself out to the point of passing out for the next several hours. Is it too forward if she goes over there and asks to stay with him for the night? He could end up giving her a weird look and slamming the door in her face. Or he could see a woman, sad and distressed, and know she’s just in need of someone to comfort her. The risk is worth the reward.

Y/N leaves her room, stumbling slightly over her own feet, the alcohol starting to take effect. She steadies herself, standing in front of Diego’s door and knocking. It takes a moment, but he finally opens, shirtless and hair a mess.

“What’s up?” He says, his voice gruff.

Standing in front of him now, Y/N can’t help but feel stupid. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with her problems right now, not when he’s still trying to figure out his own. The only thing on Diego’s mind is most likely Lila, and getting some much needed rest. This was a bad idea.

“Uh,” she shakes her head. “It’s nothing, no. I shouldn’t have disturbed you, I’m sorry.”

She begins to walk away, trying not to fall over, until Diego’s voice calls her name. She turns, seeing him standing half way out of his room, a sad expression on his face.

“Neither of us really wanna be alone right now,” he says, motioning slightly for her to follow him through the door.

She waits a second, unsure if this was the best idea. Now feeling as if they were both about to cross a barrier that neither of them could walk back through.

Taking the plunge, Y/N silently follows Diego into his room, closing the door behind her. She suddenly felt nervous, unsure as to why. Diego is already back in bed, getting comfortable under the covers, ready for a much needed sleep. Y/N looks at the bed, then towards the small couch, not knowing which one she’s welcome on.

“Diego…”

“It’s fine,” he rolls over, not looking at her. “You can build a pillow wall if it’ll make you feel better.”

Y/N nods, not wanting to admit how glad she was that she could sleep next to Diego tonight. She’d feel this way about anyone at the moment, right? It’s got nothing specifically to do with him. Her mind is racing, as she climbs into bed, hoping to fall into a deep slumber as quick as. She doesn’t build a pillow wall.

***

Barely an hour passes before Y/N is woken up suddenly by a sound. She sits up in bed, eyes bleary and watery, looking around the room with squinting eyes. The bathroom light is on, shining through the cracks, and Diego is no longer beside her.

She hears the sound again, a soft whimper, barely audible. It’s coming from the bathroom, and she can already guess who it is. She slowly scoots out of bed, tiptoeing on unsteady feet towards the door, knocking slightly. No answer. And the noise has stopped.

She knocks again, trying the door handle at the same time. It budges, as she gradually pulls it open. The sight was heartbreaking. Diego sits in a curled up ball in the corner, covering his face, and desperately trying to stop his heavy breathing. He doesn’t acknowledge Y/N’s presence, as she moves over to him, crouching down. She gently grabs his hands, pulling them away to see his red, tear stained face.

“I’ve lost everything,” he whispers, breaking Y/N’s heart more than it already was. “I feel like my life’s over.”

Y/N strokes his hands, trying her best to soothe him in anyway that might work.

“I have no purpose without her,” he continues. “I try saving the world, but I couldn’t save the one thing that matters the most to me. I’m useless.”

“That is not true,” Y/N finally replies, hating these thoughts running through Diego’s mind. “Her actions are not a reflection on you.”

Diego begins to protest, but Y/N quickly shuts him down. “I know how much you care. Sometimes I think you care a little too much. But that just proves how good of a husband and father you were. You did nothing wrong. It’s all on her. And Five.”

She chokes out the last part, almost forgetting about her own problems. They’re both going through this, together.

Y/N doesn’t even realise she’s now crying too, holding her hand up to her mouth to muffle the sound of her sobs. Diego reaches out, pulling her into a bone crushing hug, the pair needing comfort from each other more than anything.

She moves her head back slightly, kissing Diego on the forehead, then the cheek, then hesitating at his lips. Her mind feels fuzzy, as the alcohol in her system still lingers, jumping between the pros and cons of what she’s about to do. Diego makes the decision for her.

The kiss is soft at first, his moustache tickling her upper lip, the sensation of it weird but not unpleasant. She wraps her arms around his neck as he puts his hands on both sides of her face, deepening it into a full blown make out session. Y/N opens her mouth, allowing Diego to slip his tongue in, eliciting a quiet moan from her.

Their current position is uncomfortable, as Diego sits pressed up against the sink with Y/N crouched down in front of him. He pushes her back slightly, so they can both stand, never stopping the kiss. The room feels hot, as they walk out of the bathroom and aim for the bed, Diego sitting down on the edge with Y/N straddling his lap. She quickly removes her top and bra, drawing the man’s attention to her breasts. He moves away from her lips, traveling down until he’s eye level with her chest. He takes one in his mouth, sucking harshly, while his hand massages the other.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N sighs, throwing her head back.

She grabs his hair, pulling a fistful of it, forcing Diego to suck harder. She moves her hips back and forth on his crotch, desperately wanting to get out of the rest of her clothes.

As if reading her mind, Diego pulls back, moving them both higher up the bed, quickly removing his pants as Y/N does the same. Now completely nude, the pair become a sweaty mess of body and limbs, wrapping themselves around each other, and making sounds the other occupants in the motel can definitely hear.

Diego’s thrusts are meticulous, as he hooks one of his arms under her leg, pushing in and out, knowing all the right places to make Y/N scream out in ecstasy. He kisses her lips, her neck, her chest and her breasts, not wanting to leave out any part of her. He makes her feel wanted, admired, needed. Like he can’t breathe without her. It feels good. They carry on into the night, and early morning, for a moment all their problems don’t exist anymore.

***

Y/N wakes up first. Her head is pounding, her mouth is dry, and there’s a dull ache between her legs. She grumbles, the memories of last night rushing back to her in an instant. Some good, some bad, and some unforgettable. A small part of her is consumed with guilt, knowing what she did could be seen as hypocritical.

But as Diego’s strong arm wrapped around her waist pulls her closer to his chest, snuggling into her neck, that feeling washes away. In some selfish way, they both needed this. An eye for an eye, as most would say. It’s not going to end well, and she knows they’ll have to eventually deal with the consequences the same way Five and Lila did, but for now, the rest of the world can wait a while. Y/N turns around, moving impossibly closer to Diego, the man who made her feel wanted at a time where she didn’t think she was.

#the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy spoilers #tua s4 spoilers #tua spoilers #tua s4 #x reader

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hariboz · 10 months

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PROMISE ME…!

“when you don’t tell your boyfriend you’re sick and still perform!”

pairing: idol!bf!ricky x gn!idol!reader

genre: fluff, tiny angst (?)

warning: mention of headaches, blurry vision, nausea and similar symptoms, softie bf!ricky, that’s it i think?

notes: ty to nonnie for requesting this!! i got a little carried away but i got into a pretty good flow writing it so i hope you enjoy 🥹🫶🏻 also!! this is my first time writing idol!reader so i hope it feels somewhat realistic…? as realistic as it can be i guess 😵‍💫

word count: 1.8k (😵‍💫 how and why…)

five, six, seven, eight.

five, six, seven—

“y/n, are you okay?” the voice of your leader rips you out of your trance, your tired eyes meeting in the mirror. you nod and put on a bright, although fake smile in hopes of being reassuring, though you’re not sure you were being all too convincing — either way, none of your members pry, because they understand. they understand the need to push through, especially now with all these end of the year award shows happening; you simply can’t afford to be sick, to fall behind and to be absent from such huge events. so, you decide to push through the dizziness, nausea and pain. you’ll take some medication later, it’ll be fine. (at least that’s what you’re telling yourself when you catch yourself stumbling from the dizziness when you get ready to practice your solo entrance.) even though there is a silent understanding between you and your members, there still is one person you know you won’t be able to convince, no matter how hard you’ll try — your boyfriend and professional overthinker in regards to your well-being, ricky.

it’s quite cute, the juxtaposition of his public image and the way he tends to worry. did you eat? does your throat hurt from vocal practice? did you trip during dance practice again? (a question that’s especially annoying considering you told him about tripping once, roughly six months ago. he refuses to let it go.) he sends you teas and throat sprays to make sure your voice is taken care of, secretly checks the soles of your shoes to make sure they aren’t getting slippery, somehow manages to pack you little snacks you can munch on when you haven’t eaten anything before practice again. he’s very rarely stern, much too soft-spoken and gentle towards you to speak to you in a more serious manner when he’s worried, so he shows his care and love through these things — which makes you feel all the more guilty when you straight up have to lie to him when he asks if practice is going fine, if you’re feeling well, and letting you know how excited he (along with gyuvin, he mentions) is to see you perform in person up close.

you try your hardest to get better before the performance, you really do. well, as much as you can between hours and hours of practice and barely any sleep, at least. all your efforts seem to be in vain, though, because the day of the performance seems to be the worst day yet — if you had a choice, you would bury yourself under every blanket available and not leave your bed for at least a week, that’s how awful you feel when you and your members are picked up from your dorm during the wee hours of the morning.

unfortunately, the little perfectionistic gremlin that lives at the back of your mind refuses to let all these weeks of practice go to waste, so you muster up a brave smile through your shaking pupils and tell your worrying members that you have everything under control — you’ll smash this performance just like all the other ones, even if you have to do it while being a little dizzy. it’s no big deal, you’re a professional after all.

your stylists is making some last minute adjustments to your outfits when a gentle knock sounds through the room, a very familiar blonde head of hair popping in. you rush over to ricky, his arms snaking around you immediately. “hey, handsome,” you mutter as you observe his face, a small grin playing on his lips. “you’re not looking to bad yourself, hm?” his voice is smooth as he brushes some of your hair out of your face, careful to not interfere with your hairstylist’s hard work. you’re thrown off your balance a little when another dizziness spell hits you out of nowhere, the look on ricky’s face immediately morphing into one of concern, “are you okay?”

you muster up a smile and just nod, eyes blinking rapidly to dispel the black dots bouncing around in your vision, “yeah, i’m just a little nervous,” you reach up to adjust his collar to avoid meeting his worried eyes, “i’m fine. just freaking out a little, that’s all.” you can tell ricky doesn’t entirely believe you, but he trusts that you would come to him if there was something wrong — so he reluctantly lets the subject go. he steals a quick kiss to your lips, whispering a “good luck, i love you.” before he turns to leave to make any last preparations for his own performance.

your first wave of regret overcomes you when you stand ready beneath the stage, you and your members getting into position to perform the intro to your performance. your head feels like it’s about to split and your hands are shaky, but it’s too late to turn back now — as queen sunmi once said, the show must go on.

your second wave of regret comes when you’re actually on stage, all the lights, the music, the screams and your in-ear monitor feeling less like the dream you’ve worked so hard to achieve and more like your own personal hell. your group having your own amazing entrance with one of the stage elevators excited you at first; unfortunately, right now you’re preoccupied with managing your expressions to make sure you won’t let any irritation or discomfort slip.

your third and final wave of regret comes when you stand in the middle of the stage in this massive venue, tens of thousands of eyes on you as you start to perform your solo part of the song — your head is pounding and you can barely hear your own voice through your in-ears anymore, your steps are shaky and imprecise, your vision is blurry. you manage to push through, somehow, but it’s clear in the way your chest is heaving once the lights go out that you’re not well.

the atmosphere is very much tense in the part of the audience where your fellow idols sit, all of them having to cover their very obvious concern with faux excitement — you pulled it off well enough, but it’s clear to every single one of them that you’re sick and that you probably should not have performed. ricky especially has to keep his expressions in check, because the mix of worry and concern but also frustration and maybe a little anger is raging heavily inside him right now.

the worry and concern are obvious, the last thing he wants to see is you being sick, much less performing in that state. the frustration is bubbling inside him because he knows that you know better, that even the chance of you hurting yourself even worse by performing while sick is enough reason to sit out one performance. the anger is entirely directed at your staff and maybe some of your members, your leader at least — they must’ve seen that you were unwell, no? and they still let you on stage? is that not what managers and leaders are for, to take matters into their own hands and to know what’s best for their members? it all comes to a head when your members join the other idols in the audience while you’re nowhere in sight.

ricky is getting restless, his hands sprawling against his dress pants, occasionally pinching the fabric to keep his mind occupied. gyuvin and matthew both gave him little reassuring pats on his back but neither did much to comfort him, his mind entirely preoccupied with worrying about you and counting down the minutes to when he will finally be able to check up on you backstage.

it’s about an hour later when the award show is finally over, and for once ricky is the first one to rush backstage, a little ahead of all of his members. he swerves past staff and security and doesn’t even bother knocking on your group’s dressing room, ripping the door open to find your shocked but still very exhausted eyes staring up at him in surprise, “ricky?”

he’s in front of you in the blink of an eye, squatting down to meet you eye-to-eye, his hands gently cradling your face, “are you okay? for real, this time?” his brows are furrowed and you feel a little bad for thinking that he looks pretty handsome all serious like this. you nod sheepishly, apology ready to spill from your lips when he squishes your cheeks together to silence you, “shhh, you listen to me. never do that again, okay? do you know how scary that was, watching you perform like that? what if something had happened, you know you could’ve—,” he stumbles over his words a little, clearly worked up, “i don’t know, fallen off stage or something. you could’ve fainted! or you could’ve broken something or— i don’t know, just, promise me, don’t do that again.” ricky’s once so stern voice turns soft towards the end again, never really able to keep up his serious tone for long, especially towards you.

“‘m sorry, just didn’t want to let anyone down,” you mumble, leaning into his touch. his cold hands on your face feel incredibly nice, a stark contrast to your feverish face. he sighs and one of his hands comes up to brush your hair away from your face, his hand stroking your head softly, “i know, but still. don’t do stuff like that, okay? talk to someone when you’re not feeling well. your managers, your members, me — there’s so many people you can go to, okay? anyone, as long as you tell someone,” you nod along to him, and maybe it’s the guilt of making him worry so much or the fact that you’re overwhelmed from the amount of affection coming from him while you’re still a little delirious, but you feel like you need to lighten the atmosphere with a little joke.

“even gyuvin?” the gentle expression on his face falls almost immediately, replaced by a very unimpressed stare. you break out into quiet giggles, muttering a “sorry” before pressing a kiss to his cheek. ricky grumbles a little before getting back up, running his hand through your hair gently one last time. “i have to go back now but i’m ordering you some soup to your dorm later. you’re on bedrest for the next few days, you hear me?” he tries to sound stern again and puts on his best serious face, but his façade is broken when you smile up at him so tiredly, the exhaustion clear on your face.

“thank you, i love you,” you call after him when he turns to leave, ricky sending you a flying kiss before leaving the room, “love you too.”

(your fourth wave of regret came when you realised ricky formed an alliance with your members, all of them exchanging “y/n intel” to make sure all of them can keep an eye on you while you’re recovering.)

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luvjunie · 11 months

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KNEW BETTER — e42!miles x fem!reader

SUMMARY. the alluring pull of a stranger entices you to make a risky decision all too familiar to your last WORD COUNT. 3,754 CONTENTS. miles and reader are in their late teens for realistic purposes, language, brief mention of a kiss, my attempt at an adequate plot and characterizations that actually have substance SONG INSPO. “knew better/forever boy” by ariana grande AUTHOR’S NOTE. i currently have no plans to take this further but inspiration struck and i had to write it lolll

How did you end up here?

Sticking out like a sore thumb on the roof top of a family party that definitely wasn’t yours, though they’d started to feel like it in the last few months. It’s not like your family would be mature enough to come together, put their pride aside for five minutes, and get along the way these people were. And after your parents’ separation became official earlier this year, negotiation was way out of the question. This distraction from the chaos you left back home was more than welcomed.

Your friend’s hand was starting to pale from how hard you were clutching onto it, yet you didn’t notice. The music was loud and a little upbeat for your taste, but you slightly bobbed your head to it anyway, a mindless thing you found yourself doing regardless of whether you could understand the lyrics to the song or not. There's no way you’d be caught dead at a party looking as if you didn’t have at least an ounce of rhythm.

Noticing your nerves, as well as the growing ache of her fingers, your friend Camila turned her head to the side, her silky, chestnut brown tresses flowing over her shoulder when she shouted over the bass of the speakers.

“Don’t be nervous! They’re all real nice, I promise!”

"Camila—" barely hearing what she said, you stopped for a second to give a sweet smile to an older lady who passed you, then softly tugged her arm to get her attention. “Can’t we just, stay in that cute little corner over there with the—“ you paused. “What are those— enchiladas?”

“Empanadas.” She corrected with a lighthearted eyeroll, her Queen’s accent heavy on her tongue. “And no way! I want you to meet everyone.”

"Everyone—wait what?” Your eyes bulged. You probably resembled a looney-tunes character at the moment. “I thought I’d officially met everyone last month at the uhh— the fuckin—“ You made a wafting motion with your hands, as if it’d prompt your brain to get your thoughts out as quickly as the two of you were walking. “The Heritage Month BBQ, thingy?”

This was the first time the doe-eyed girl had stopped to look at you throughout your walk through the venue—like, actually look at you—and of course it was only to laugh at your ridiculous observation. She nearly doubled over.

“Ha!- Yeah, nah. That was a funny joke though.” she giggled. “That was family family. This is family and family friends. So basically, more family. You know that!”

Oh yeah. Makes complete sense. Family didn’t even sound like a word anymore at this point, you thought to yourself as she pulled the both of you to a stop at the drink table.

You and Camila had been friends ever since the second grade. The girl had the prettiest hazel eyes and the longest, shiniest hair you'd ever seen. Since time she’s liked to refer to herself as the “Puerto Rican-Filipina Rapunzel", and though the term she’d come up with was a bit of a mouthful, you’d be lying if you tried to disagree.

She’d waltzed up to your secluded spot at indoor recess in Mrs. Walter’s class, demanded the two of you be friends, and even gave you a pink Hello Kitty sticker to accompany her proposition.

And seeing as you couldn’t remember much before that, you really couldn’t remember a time when Camila wasn’t in your life, either. Protecting you from anyone who might have anything to say about her bestfriend, and always quick to step in front of you and get in someone’s face about it, even if the someone in question was a burly 6’3 football player who had to crane his neck to look down at who was cursing him out a mile a minute.

If people saw Camila, they saw you, too. That’s just how the two of you rolled. And yeah, you’d been to more than a few family parties, slapped on some low-waisted, bejeweled miss-me jeans and boots to fit in with the dress code, and attended a few bailes even though you couldn’t dance for shit. But you’d never been to a gathering of theirs that was this large. What was the occasion?

As you watched her scoop a ladle of some sort of homemade drink mix into a red solo cup, you realized you’d unintentionally asked the question in your head.

“So, what’s the big occasion?” You took in your surroundings, noting how happy everyone looked.

“Ah, my aunt finished her M.D program, or somethin’ like that. Basically, she’s gonna be a real big doctor soon, so you know we had to party. My cousin invited me."

“Mm,” you nodded stalely, accepting the cup she quickly pushed into your hand before she went to pour another for herself.

“Speaking of my cousin…”

There was a mischievous glint in Camila’s eyes. Was mischevious the right word? Maybe excited, but either way, you didn’t like it one bit.

Mid sip, you slowly lowered your drink from your lips, eyes narrowing at her in suspicion.

“Camila Janaé Reyes. What are you plotting?”

“Nothingggg!”

Judging by that tone, it was definitely not nothing.

“I just want you to meet him, that’s all.” Her words drawled as she gave you one of her sickeningly sweet smiles, and you whined like a child who’d just been asked to put a coat on before leaving the house.

“Seriously, ‘Mila? That’s why you invited me?”

“No! Well… Kinda?” she grimaced.

Your bestfriend could be quite persistent, especially with specific things others didn’t want her to be persistent with. Every human on this earth had a trait that irritated someone or made them slightly less favorable, and of course, that trait is almost impossible to recognize in yourself.

This—the overbearing persistence, the thinking that she knew better for everyone than they did themselves—was Camila’s, and it irked you to your core like no other.

“Camila, I told you, no boys. I don’t even think I have it in me after..." The rest of the sentence died on your tongue as your hand came up to pinch the bridge of your nose, prompting Camila to give you a knowing head nod. With her, you didn’t even have to finish the thought.

“I know, I know,” she said. “But his mom’s been a little worried about how quiet he’s gotten and asked if I could bring someone for him to talk to. So, I thought maybe you guys could be friends or something. That’s it! He don’t got many, and you—well…”

You almost cracked a smile at that, even though you were still annoyed with her. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

You somehow found it in you to let your guard down a bit, which, in theory, would probably come back to bite you in the ass later. You just didn’t know how soon that would be the case.

Your shoulders slumped, a telltale sign of you ready to throw in the towel, just this once like you always did. Camila was already getting excited.

“Alright, alright. Who’s your cousin?”

The petite girl rolled her lips inward to bite back a wide grin, and instead of answering you, she slid beside you and slunk her arm around your shoulders. Her neck stretched for a second as she scanned the lively gathering, her eyes widening once she found who she was scouting for.

She gestured with her chin, not wanting to make it obvious.

“See that guy by himself over there? Like, six foot two, wide shoulders, lowkey thinks he’s Batman, kinda gotta mug on him? He’s nice though, swear. When he wants to be.”

You squinted into the distance. “Uhh… I think that’s a woman, ‘Mila.”

She gasped at that, shoving your shoulder hard enough to almost make you stumble. “No not my Tia Beatriz, you bitch!”

“Oh shit—“

A laugh tore through your apology before you could stop it, and the girl next to you made a sound with her throat that was clearly her trying to hold back her own laughter.

"Idiota," she mumbled.

Two hands clamped down on your shoulders before you felt your body shift to the side a bit, someone else coming into view once your perspective changed.

“I’m talkin’bout him.”

The last time you could recall your heart dropping into your ass at this same rate was when your mom caught you trying to stuff your bra in the sixth grade before the bus arrived. And somehow, that feeling still wasn’t comparable to this.

This—this was much different.

“Y’see him?”

How could you not?

A little ways down, casually leaned back on an elbow at the tall edge of the roof, stood a lanky-looking, brownskinned boy who was far too handsome for his own good. Clad in a fitted black shirt and a cropped leather jacket, you could tell that piece of clothing alone cost more than your entire outfit. He was rocking some straight-legged, black cargo pants and a pair of Air Jordan 1’s you’d never seen before. There was a jaded look plastered on his face, and something about his body language led you to believe that he was forcing himself to be here.

You swallowed,

“That’s your cousin?”

Camila’s insanely, good looking, cousin, if you hadn’t mentioned that already. Not even her older brother was this fine. This boy put the childish crush you had on Luis to absolute shame.

“Mm-hm.”

Your gaze alternated back and forth between her and the boy in the distance. "But, you guys don’t—“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We get that a lot, big family.” She waved you off, probably having heard this a million times.

Her posture suddenly straightened with newfound determination, and it made your heart jump.

“Well, what are we just standin’ here for? Let’s go-“

“Nope. Nuh uh.”

Camila’s head recoiled when she raised a questioning brow at you. “Fuck you mean ‘nuh uh’?”

You balked at her as if the answer were obvious.

“I am not talking to that man!”

“Well why not?” she asked incredulously.

“Because he is fine as hell, are you crazy? I ain’t got no business goin’ over there.” You don’t know why you were lowering your voice; it’s not like he’d be able to hear you over the music anyway.

But, just by a stroke of luck, he suddenly looked up, probably due to the sweltering heat of your eyes dissecting his entire persona.

“Anddd now he’s looking at me. Oh my god,” you whisked around as casually as you could play off, fingers pressed to your hot forehead as you cursed beneath your breath.

His line of sight was cast in your direction, and though he could’ve been looking right past you, which was simply wishful thinking on your end, that was a chance you absolutely weren’t going to take.

“Yeah, he’s always able to catch people staring. I don't know how he does it… And s’kinda weird now that I think about it…” Camila mumbled distractedly to herself, her pondering eyes drifting skywards. A sharp elbow to her side, yours to be exact, was enough to pull her out of her observation and earn you a pained whine.

“Focus! What do I do now? He probably thinks I’m a creep.” you groaned.

A puff of amused air blew from her nose. “Yeah, I doubt that. He’s a bit of an odd ball himself.”

That definitely did nothing to make you feel better.

“Besides, he don’t bite,"

Your feet weren’t moving on your own accord as you began walking; it was Camila tugging you out of your in-plain sight hiding spot and towards the very boy you were just marveling at.

“I think.” she added.

“Camila, I really don’t think this is a good idea—“

Through the rush of the brief murmur-screamed argument you had with her, the walk over to him was surprisingly much shorter than your brain had estimated it to be. And of course, ever the gentleman with perfect manners, the boy in question clicked his phone off and tucked it away in his front pocket once he saw the both of you approaching him.

Camila put on her sweetest voice, and albeit a bit annoying, her intentions were pure.

“Heyyy, Miles! How are you?”

Miles. That’s a cute name. Or is it only cute because I think he’s cute? Fuck, I’m spacing out, aren’t I?

The light baritone in his voice edged you to believe that it was the latter.

“Hey cous’, I’m straight.”

Miles was talking to Camila, but he was staring dead at you while he did, as if he was purposely trying to send you into a terribly premature fit of cardiac arrest.

He had a solemn look to him; face hardened with faint frown lines that seemed a bit unfitting for his age. The only resemblance these two shared was the striking allure of hazeled eyes and how they were both able to have people lost in them without even trying. There was an energy that radiated from him—something about his presence that you felt a pull towards. It wasn’t intimidating, or brooding, no. It was more on the lines of intoxicating. And it didn’t necessarily make you uncomfortable, per se, but the fact that you couldn’t pinpoint the exact feeling his stare was giving you most definitely did.

It was a known fact that you couldn’t hold eye contact for shit, and an observing Miles easily picked up on that after the third time your eyes had darted back and forth between his own and any random object you could keep your attention on. So, when he finally decided to spare you and directed them towards his chirpy cousin instead, you felt like you could finally breathe again and stole an embarrassingly deep inhale that nearly made you lightheaded.

“So wassup, who’s this?” Miles motioned towards you with a slight tilt of his head, hands nonchalantly planted in the pockets of his jacket.

Now that the focus was off you for a second, you used this to your advantage and took a moment to get a good, close look at him.

Everything about him was clean cut and neat—strategic. From his sharp, tapered hairline that was so precise that not a single strand of hair was out of place, to the tidy twin braids that kissed his shoulders, and even down to his shoes. They were crisp, and looked like he’d taken them right out the box before he came here, but you could tell that wasn’t the case. It was clear from the way he carried himself and the fresh ass silver cuban link hanging round his neck that he simply cared about his appearance enough to keep them that way.

“This,” A subtle, yet intentional squeeze to your right arm brought you back to the conversation. “is Y/n, my bestfriend. I don’t think she’s met you yet, so I just thought I’d introduce the two of you.”

He didn’t even nod. You weren’t even sure if he blinked. All he gave was a vague,

“Mm.”

What the fuck did that mean? Was that a good mm, or a bad mm?

Your ruminating was interrupted when Camila quietly murmured something to Miles that you couldn’t quite make out, her eyes hard in warning.

“Sé amable y no hagas nada estúpido. De verdad.” (Be nice and don’t do anything stupid. For real.)

He kissed his teeth at that, an indistinct irritation lingering in his tone at the latent reprimanding. “Nunca hago nada estúpido.” (I never do anything stupid.)

Brows bunched in confusion, your lashes fluttered in annoyance upon realizing it was their intent to keep you out of the brief exchange.

“Well,” Camila clapped her hands. “I’ll leave y’all kids to it! I need to go grab some of those pinchos before they’re all gone.” Both you and Miles sent an irked look her way when she gave a cheesy thumbs up and dipped.

It was just the two of you now, and since names were already out of the way, you hadn’t the slightest idea of where to start. But the worry didn’t last long; Miles was the first to speak up, which you were more than grateful for.

“So, how you know my cousin again?” His brow peaked. “Don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

Miles was good with faces—excellent, actually. He spent a lot of time people watching; knew most of Brooklyn by now, and he definitely wouldn’t have forgotten a face like yours. So he let his eyes drink you in from head to toe, committing you to memory. And damn, he sure picked a good day to be social.

You tried to focus on your answer instead of the glint of his earrings or the sharp of his jaw when his head turned to the side, so you settled on studying the buildings that lined the magenta-stained skyline in the distance.

“Well, there’s not much to it, really. I met her in the second grade, and she said we were bestfriends now, no questions asked. Guess it’s been that way ever since.” you shrugged.

“Yeah, sounds like her," he chuckled, shifting to rest both his elbows on the ledge as his back leaned against it. “She can be a little—“

“Persistent?” you interjected knowingly, a small smile painting your features.

“Shit, you tellin’ me," he snorted. “I guess that’s a nicer way to put it.”

Miles picked his cup up from where he’d previously set it down and took a swig. So far, this conversation wasn’t nearly as grueling as he’d expected it to be, and shockingly enough, he might’ve even been enjoying your company.

But unknown to you, this wasn’t the first time Miles had been introduced to one of Camila’s friends. He’d met probably three of them at this point, and honestly, he was a little over his cousin trying to throw him a bone he didn’t ask for. Did he entertain them? Possibly, for fun. Though it’s not like he actually enjoyed their presence. But there was something intriguing about you that he didn’t pick up on with the others, and he was starting to wonder what was in this punch.

“Hol’ on,” a curious look crossed his face. “You from Queens, right?”

“Mhm, grew up in the same building as Camila and everything. Why?”

“You’on really sound like it, that’s all.” he noted. Poking at the inside of your cheek with your tongue, you battled with an answer.

“Yeah, I… go back and forth, a lot.” You gave a half-hearted smile, in which he responded to with a simple nod.

Your brows furrowed as a sudden realization dawned on you.

“Y’know, now that I think about it... I don’t think I’ve ever seen you, either. You don’t come around often, do you?”

“Mm,” His lips pushed into an upturned frown—that thing people usually did when someone wasn’t far from being correct. He gave a shadowy answer and changed the subject.

“You could say that. Camila’s brought you to one of these before, I’m guessing?”

“Mm-hm, all the time.” You nodded, swirling around the fizzy liquid in your cup. “I usually chill with the elders, though.”

“Heard that.” Miles understood you completely, the corner of his mouth lifting into a lopsided smile.

Now that you’d had the chance to actually speak with him, he wasn’t nearly as aloof as you’d presumed him to be.

“This your mom’s party?”

“Yes ma'am." he hummed.

You took a quick breath in through your nostrils, and Miles almost laughed at how much one word affected you.

"So..." Your eyes cautiously dragged their way over to him. “Why aren’t you celebrating with everyone else?”

Your tone was careful. Like you already knew your question was personal.

His jaw tensed for a beat and his smile dimmed a little, but he was shrugging and back to his coolheaded mien before you could make any inferences on how your question might’ve made him feel.

“Just like bein’ by my lonely, I guess. Better this way.”

Every human on this earth had a trait that irritated someone or made themselves slightly less favorable, and this was yours. Asking intimate questions too soon, unintentionally trying to uproot information about someone’s life through the innocent curiosity that usually got you into trouble.

“S’ain’t really my kind of vibe anyway." he admitted with a flippant gesture toward the party.

You mindlessly fiddled with the charm bracelet dangling from your wrist.

“And what’s your ‘kind of vibe?’”

It was a genuine question. Honest. You knew his confession came in passing, yet that didn’t deter you from wondering what he was thinking when he said it.

Miles’ aureate gaze floated to your person, and you watched as he studied your features. Eyes flitting between the both of yours, as if he were trying to get a read on you without having to ask.

You relaxed a little when he finally cracked a mirth-kissed grin.

“You just full of questions, huh?” he teased, a glint in his eye.

Somewhere in the midst of this conversation, his body had turned towards yours, and you hadn’t noticed until now that he was facing you completely. You looked to him with the same intensity he gave you and played right back.

“You could say that.”

There were a few seconds of internal struggle, seen in the way he fought to pull his gaze away. Teeth biting at the inside of his cheek like he needed a taste of pain to remind him to behave. But, when he caught sight of the way you were looking at him, that little voice in the deep of his mind wasn’t nearly loud enough for him to listen to it.

Licking at his dry lips, he knew better, but he asked anyway with an appetent tilt of his head.

“You wanna get outta here?”

—

Now how did you end up here?

Party forgotten like an old toy on Christmas morning. A newfound agenda on your mind and a new pair of lips on yours to match.

You knew good and well that the question he asked didn’t entail stepping away from the party to get a breath of clean air; in fact, you were finding it quite difficult to breathe right about now.

Huh, and here you thought he was a gentleman.

And Miles was fully aware that this was probably a bad idea, but when he wanted something, it was as if tunnel vision clouded any chance of better judgement.

Every human on this earth had a trait that irritated someone or made them slightly less favorable, and Miles was not excluded from this verity.

Starting things he knew he wouldn’t finish, was his.

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse fanfiction #earth 42 miles morales fanfiction #42 miles morales x reader #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles g morales #miles morales x fem!reader #miles morales x you #prowler miles fanfic

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dfortrafalgar · 6 months

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I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Law x Fem Reader

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read these warnings before reading this fic. Genuinely, I implore you. I started writing this fic on a whim a few weeks ago, when I was contemplating my own experiences with reproduction-related health conditions such as the one that will be addressed later on in this story (endometriosis). Reproductive education and health is something that I feel very strongly about, and I feel that topics such as pregnancy complications and loss aren't addressed enough in media for fear that they're too taboo or shocking. Which, to be fair, is true, at least for the shocking aspect. Pregnancy loss is difficult, traumatic, and life-changing, for better or for worse, truly dependent on the person and the world around them.

Now you might be wondering... why would you drag one piece into this? well, i don't know. i felt like it, perhaps. Law is a character who resonates very deeply to me, his character is emotionally complex and layered, and imagining him in a scenario like this one became very interesting to me. Combine that with everything i stated above and taddaa, you get this fic.

this story does and will eventually have a happy ending (a very happy ending!) however it will take a bit to get there. this is a multi-chapter fic that i'm moving from my ao3 to my new blog, and the same warnings there apply here.

if this fic doesn't seem like your cup of tea, i encourage you to check out some of my other fics on my blog. i have a few law/readers that are tooth-rottingly fluffy and much more feel good.

with all that out of the way, thank you for reading.

Chapter 1

[Next]

The air in the room was as stifling as a sauna from the stress and anxiety filling the air. It was so silent, the tiles surrounding the small area blocking any and all noise from outside. The door was closed, caging you in.

You were sitting on the toilet lid, your hands rapidly perspiring and your whole body shivering with nerves. Across from you, your husband had his arms crossed, his head hung low, his heel bouncing off the floor. The tension was unlike anything you had ever experienced, however this had unfortunately become the norm for the past six months.

On the side of the sink sat a long white stick. Neither of you wanted to look at it.

“Do you think it’s ready now…?” you asked, inwardly cringing at how pathetic and weak your wobbly voice sounded.

Law picked his head up, his golden eyes creased in profound concern and worry. “It should be. Five minutes, right?”

“I think so,” you replied. With a trembling hand, you grabbed the stick from the counter. Law watched your every movement with a close eye. With a deep breath, you flipped over the test and gazed at the result window.

A single red line.

After the last failed attempt, you made a joke that you didn’t have any more tears left in you to cry, but clearly that wasn’t the case as fat, salty tears rapidly welled in your eyes and flowed down your cheeks. Law immediately knew what the result was the second your lips twitched downward. His heart sank into his stomach, immediately stepping toward you, grabbing the test from your hand and blindly chucking it into the small garbage can in the corner. He knelt on the floor in front of you to pull you into his chest.

“Damn it…” you whimpered. Your body forced you to take a shuddering inhale before sobbing an anguished, “FUCK!!!!”

Law’s heart broke. He didn’t even know what to say to comfort you anymore. 6 months of failed attempts at conceiving a very wanted baby had caused nothing but pain to both of you. You had both been scientific about the process. All birth control and protection was ceased, and the two of you were religiously tracking your cycle to make sure you would try during your ovulation window, but nothing but failure after failure showed up.

You thought you were broken.

Law thought he was broken.

You wept into his shoulder, your body shuddering with each pained sob that crawled from your sore throat. Law’s hands were frozen around you, firmly gripping your back. You couldn’t see the tears that were forming in the corners of his stern eyes, biting his lip and forcing every muscle in his face to prevent those tears from slipping downward. The last thing you needed was to see him cry, but he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to hold it in.

“Law…” you whimpered into his shoulder.

Law stayed silent.

“I’m sorry–”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he quickly retorted, cutting you off. He felt you lurch in his arms. “This isn’t your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault… it’s…”

Now you stayed silent.

Law took his own shallow inhale. “I… don’t know.”

For one of the only times in Law’s life, he was rendered completely incapable of speech. Normally calm and analytical, looking for every possible solution or reason for an issue, he was now left completely helpless to the crashing waves of sheer dejection. As your quivering body clung to him like a lifeline, his entire brain was scrambling for some sense, any logical thought, for the current predicament, but it was starting to become glaringly obvious to both of you.

It was very likely one of you was infertile.

When you finally picked your head up from his shoulder, Law’s previously broken heart fractured into even more irreparable pieces.

Your eyes were puffy, swollen and bloodshot from your tears. Your entire face looked bloated from the force of your crying, and you were clearly flushed. You looked, for lack of a better word, completely miserable. Law helped you stand from the closed toilet seat, keeping your eyes away from the trash can where the negative pregnancy test lay on top of discarded tissues and makeup wipes, to guide you to your shared bedroom. Neither of you had to say a word, you knew he was going to put you into your shared bed and let you get some much-deserved rest after the stressful eternity (10 minutes) you had just endured. It was almost 8:00PM anyway, and regrettably, both of you still had work the following day.

You didn’t fight it when Law eased you down onto the mattress by your shoulders. You kept your eyes pinned closed, not wanting to let your husband see any more of your beaten state. You rolled over onto your side and hid in your pillows. You didn’t hear Law mention that he would join you after cleaning up, and you didn’t notice the overhead light dimming. You simply begged for sleep to take you quickly and painlessly.

When Law finally returned after washing his face, he gazed dejectedly at your weary form. Finally asleep, fortunately, but your cheeks were glossy with fresh tears. The man carefully crawled into bed behind you, carefully pulling your body into his. He wished more than anything that he could make your pain go away. He ran through the many years you had been together, and struggled to find a time where your sorrow was as profound as it was this evening. His mind was constantly at war- his analytical, doctor side beginning to list specific reasons why this could be happening, and his sincere, passionate, loving husband side breaking apart reflecting over the sound of your sobs.

It could have been either of you. But it also could’ve been both of you. The thought was enough to finally force the tears in Law’s eyes to break free and travel down his cheeks. Some of them plotted into your hair.

—

You awoke to the sound of whispering in your hallway outside the bedroom. The blinds covering the window above the bed you shared with Law were pulled shut, but the sunlight still beamed through them leaving patterns on the walls and floor. The side Law slept on was empty and freshly made. No surprise, he left for work early in the morning after all. You slowly sat up in bed, your head pounding. The events of the previous evening came rushing back to you, but you felt nothing but an empty melancholy, a dark fog that hung over your brain and clouded your vision.

The door to your bedroom slowly opened. You looked up just in time to see a very large, very fluffy cloud with four legs and two beady eyes come sprinting into your room. Its feet ripped across the carpeted floor as It hopped on your bed with a loud huff, immediately snuggling on top of your duvet and leaning into your body for some much needed cuddles.

You mustered a weary laugh, your hands instinctively moving to the back of the dog’s neck to rub his fluffy cheeks from behind, eliciting happy grunts from the large animal. He had his tongue out, a tiny pink blep among the sea of rich white fur.

“Bepo,” you sighed. “You know Law doesn’t like it when you get on the bed.”

“He missed you!” called a voice from the hallway. Spiky red hair appeared in the doorway. “So did we, actually. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

Shachi had, actually, woken you up, but you didn’t need to tell him that. “No, not at all.” You shook your head. Bepo’s tail was wagging in your face, causing you to sputter out small strands of loose fur from your mouth. The red-head entered your bedroom, leaving the door open. The smell of French toast instantly wafted into the space, making your mouth water and your eyes widen. “Is Penguin cooking?”

“Yee-up,” Shachi replied, popping his lips to enunciate the word. “Law invited us over, if you couldn’t tell.” He flashed a smirk. “You got the day off, by the way.”

Your eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “What?”

“Law called in sick for you,” the man confirmed.

You frantically reached for the night stand and grabbed your phone, tapping the screen to illuminate it. It was almost 10:00AM, and sure enough, your alarm had been turned off. Three texts from Law sat waiting on your screen, as well as two texts from your coworkers.

Baby~~<3

Sorry, I broke into your phone to turn your alarm off. You get to sleep in today, I called you out sick. I didn’t tell them anything, just that you weren’t feeling good.

Baby~~<3

Shachi and Penguin might be there when you wake up. I did tell them a little about what happened, just so they know to give you space if you need it.

Baby~~<3

Call me if you need anything at all, I love you.

Ika-chan

I heard you called in sick today!!! I hope you’re alright, let me know if you need anything!

Nami Swan

How r u feeling? If u caut the flu u can blame Usopp :P

You smiled, your heart beating in your chest. “You guys are too much sometimes.”

Shachi proudly rested his clenched fist over his sternum as a display of pride. “Nothing is ever enough for your best friend!” The sight made you chuckle.

You were caught off guard by Penguin entering with a much larger platter of food than you ever expected. He excitedly approached your bedside with a wide grin, marveling at his own work. A bowl of mixed fruits, a plate of French toast drizzled with maple syrup and dollopped with a swirl of whipped cream, a small portion of sausage on the side, and a single unopened bottle of apple juice. You graciously accepted the spread, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely befuddled.

“You guys know I’m not actually sick, right?” you asked, glancing at your husband’s best friends with concern. You shooed Bepo away from getting too close to the sausage.

“We know,” Penguin clarified. “We can treat you to a nice breakfast even when you’re not sick, though!”

You smiled, forcing down the lump that formed in your throat. “Thank you guys, I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I know what you’d do,” Shachi stated. “You’d eat your breakfast and savor every bite!” He stood up from your bed and clapped his hands twice, beckoning Bepo off of the bed and over to his side. “We’ll take Bepo for a walk around the neighborhood! Take some time for yourself!” The two men left with your dog in tow, leaving you to stare in awe at the spread of food.

Your mind was reeling. Law’s text informed you that he had given his two friends a brief summary of what had happened, but you didn’t really mind. If anything, it brought you some comfort to know that you and your husband’s two closest friends understood the predicament you were currently in and were more than willing to go out of their way to support you. You also couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Law calling you out sick for the day, putting your passcode into your phone to turn off your alarm, and making sure his friends would be there for you when you woke up. You were beyond grateful for such an incredible support system, but just to be on the safe side…

You grabbed your phone once more, opening your text messages with Law.

Good morning baby, thank you for calling me out. Im feeling a bit better, Shachi and Penguin made me breakfast. I hope you didnt give them too much grief ;3; Take care of yourself today, I’ll see you when you get home. I love you!!! <333

With your breakfast completed, you slowly trudged to the bathroom to take a relaxing shower. The sight of your negative pregnancy test filled you with nausea, but you pushed past the feeling and turned on the water.

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #fem reader #law x reader #x reader #reader insert #tw pregnancy #tw miscarriage #tw pregnancy loss #im losing you

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nanowrimo · 10 months

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How to Write a Quality First Draft

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. ProWritingAid, a 2023 NaNo sponsor, helps you turn your rough first draft into a clean, clear, publish-ready manuscript. Today, author Krystal N. Craiker shares some tips on how to make sure your first draft has some good bones to start with:

One question I often hear about National Novel Writing Month is, “Won’t my novel be of terrible quality?”

It’s true that writing 50,000 words in 30 days won’t give you a polished manuscript. And it’s always great to embrace the creative mess of the first draft.

However, there are some tricks to ensure that your first draft has plenty of usable content. These tips are also a great way to move your story along when you get stuck.

1. Have a Plan

Pantsers, this might be hard to hear. But having even a basic outline of your story can ensure you stay on track. You don’t have to sacrifice creativity when you outline. After all, you’re still the author creating a story.

A detailed outline can even act like your messy first draft. The more work you put into planning, the better your first draft will be. When I spend more time plotting, I spend far less time cutting things from my later drafts.

2. Make Every Scene 3D

Okay, I get it. Not everyone is a plotter. Luckily, there are other things you can do to ensure your first draft is good quality. One is adding enough sensory detail to bring your story to life.

I like to use a 3D method: have at least three of the five senses in every scene. It’s a great trick to improve the flow of your scene. Take a few minutes to immerse yourself in your story and write what your characters are experiencing.

You might change it or move it around in your final draft, but you’ll save yourself time during revisions if you add sensory detail from the beginning.

3. Reword Your Writing

Sometimes we get stuck after one bad sentence. The imposter syndrome kicks in, and the scene just falls flat.

Ideally, we completely turn off our inner editor during NaNoWriMo. But when you encounter that one pesky sentence, it’s okay to rewrite it.

You can use a tool like ProWritingAid’s Rephrase. Just highlight your sentence, click Rephrase, and select a new sentence. Rephrase uses your own words and enhances them. And don’t worry about security and privacy—ProWritingAid never uses your writing to train AI.

4. Embrace the Chaos

Of course, the most important thing about National Novel Writing Month is to embrace the messy creative process. It’s okay not to have a perfect manuscript at the end of the month—no one will.

Everyone will need to revise, edit, and rewrite after November ends. That’s why NaNoWriMo includes "I Wrote a Novel... Now What?" resources. And when you’re ready to turn your mess into a masterpiece, ProWritingAid will be there to help.

Krystal N. Craiker is the Writing Pirate, an indie romance author and content writer who sails the seven internet seas, breaking tropes and bending genres. She has a background in anthropology and education, which bring fresh perspectives to her romance novels. When she’s not daydreaming about her next book or article, you can find her cooking gourmet gluten-free cuisine, laughing at memes, and playing board games. Krystal lives in Dallas, Texas with her husband, child, and basset hound.

Top photo by No Revisions on Unsplash

#nanowrimo #writing #first draft #writing advice #writing tips #by nano sponsor #firstdraftpro #krystal n. craiker

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thebluestbluewords · 2 months

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time travel shenanigans again

Rise of Red is driving me SLIGHTLY crazy with the time travel retcon, but in a way that’s making me want to write about how the timeline shifts COULD have worked. loosely inspired by this post.

"I don't know what that's like," Bridget says. Her expression, which Red is just starting to understand as perpetually stuck in a sweet, bright smile, falls blank for a moment. "I love my mom. It must be awful, not having someone who really loves you. If you were my daughter, I'd think you're the coolest daughter ever."

Oh, if you only knew.

"Thanks." Red manages, around the lump that shouldn't be in her throat. Bridget isn't her mom yet, not really. There's nothing for her to get upset over. "That's sweet of you."

"And speaking of sweet," Chloe jumps in, giving Red's hand a little squeeze. Oh, please. Like the perfect princess knows anything about having a tyrant as a mother. "We're looking for a cookbook. Your cupcakes were amazing, so we thought maybe you'd have what we're looking for."

Bridget beams. "Of course! I have almost every cookbook ever. Except like, the super illegal ones. I don't have those. Did you want to make something special?"

"Just a little magical baking. I think the recipe we need is in the sourcer's spellbook?"

Bridget's face falls again. "That one's illegal. I might be breaking the Wonderland laws that you remember, Red, but I don't break international law. At least not while I'm at school."

"But you'd break them out of school," Red drawls. If they can't get the cookbook they need, they can at least pump Bridget for information about herself. Half of her pranks back home only worked because she was able to get classified information from Maddox, or Isaac and the other guards, or swipe it from her mother's writing desk before she noticed a letter had even arrived. "That's pretty cool."

Bridget giggles. "Well, I wouldn't say that. I...."

She stops.

"You?" Chloe prompts.

Bridget doesn't move. Doesn't even blink.

"Bridget? Hello?"

"She's breathing." Red says. It's all she's doing. Just standing there, completely frozen, breathing. She's not even smiling. Her face is just....blank.

Chloe steps close enough to wave her hand an inch from Red's mom's nose. "Hello? Can you hear me?"

Red sidesteps around her princess sidekick to slip the back of cards out of Bridget's pajama pocket. It's not the same pack that she's seen her mom use in their timeline, but disarming her future mom makes her feel a little better. "She's broken, princess. We froze her."

"People don't just freeze. That's not how human bodies work, even if we are in the past. My mom never mentioned freezing up like this."

"I bet your mom never mentioned knowing my mom either." Red shoots back. "Or Merlin Academy, or how gross that Alchemy class was."

"My mom," Chloe starts, and then stops. Just like Bridget.

"Princess?"

"My mom never mentioned attending Merlin Academy." Chloe says, bursting into motion again. "She only mentioned it once, and that wasn't until we were in the carriage on our way to school, a few hours ago."

"Or twenty years in the future." Red reminds her.

Chloe spins around, her hair flying out in a fluffy blue halo around her head. Her empty sword belt swings with the rhythm of her pacing. "More like thirty-five. Maybe more. I have an older brother, and my parents didn't have him until they were already married for like, ten years. So we don't know exactly how far back we are, and my mom never talked about attending school until we were already in the carriage. And more importantly, you were in your carriage."

"So what?"

"So I think we started changing the flow of time the minute your mom let you leave Wonderland. I mean, think about it. The timing makes sense."

Red considers the facts.

Her mom never mentioned attending school - check. But her mom hardly mentions anything to her aside from how inadequate she is, so that's off their evidence list. Bridget is acting really weird - sure. But that doesn't necessarily mean anything, because Red's mom is really weird. Whatever statue Bridget's become, it could just be her brain rebooting to be even more evil. Or maybe she started rewriting time from the moment she grabbed the pocketwatch, and everything that's happened since then really is all her fault, and her mom would never have turned evil in the first place if Red hadn't gone back in time to try and fix her.

Or maybe time travel logic is bullshit, and they're doing the right thing.

"Whatever." Red declares. "We can think about it after we search this place for secret evil cookbooks."

#rise of red #descendants: blasphemy edition #in my heart this movie is so wildly different in terms of….everything about the previously establishedtimeline because ~time travel fuckery #my fic #descendants #Chloe Charming #Red Hearts #Bridget of Wonderland #every time the girls make a decision that shifts the timeline it just reboots everyone’s brain #and ofc it’s impacting Bridget the worst because they’re trying to rewrite her brain chemistry to NOT turn evil and hate her daughter

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corgate-epistolary · 1 month

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May 5th, 624

(Transcript under the cut) (Read on Ao3 HERE)

[Delivered to Corgate May 6th, 624 – Received by Elowen Vance on May 14th, 624)

[Front of Envelope: Letter was mailed in a brown craft paper envelope tied with natural twine, addressed to:

Elowen Vance Corgate Post Office May 5th, 624

With the return address of:

Eris Mirrows 87 Lancedragon Strt. Avalon

In the top right, there is a sticker depicting an black engraving-style ice cream bowl on a white background, below which are the words “FOR YOUR HEART”.

Back of Envelope: The letter was sealed in mottled red & white sealing wax, with a wax seal depicting a crescent moon surrounded by orbital shapes & stars. Letter was tied with craft twine, with a small treble clef & key tied to the cord. In the bottom left there is a sticker depicting a black engraving-style steaming cup on a white background, below which is the word “BONJOUR”.

Interior pages: Written on mottled medium brown paper. It is lightly, almost invisibly, lined with slightly darker brown lines. In the top center, approximately 1 inch from the top, the words “THANKS FOR LIVING YEARS” can be seen on the paper. The writing is tidy, slightly rounded print in black ink.]

Eris Mirrows, A.Mg. 87 Lancedragon Strt. Avalon

May 5th, 624

Dear Ms. Vance, It is with great pleasure and a hint of surprise that I receive your letter. I did not expect the Corgate post system to be so quick to get your words to me. The simple fact that they have railroad tracks still amaze [sic] me. I do not know how Mg. Hawkins convinced you to move with him to this backwater part of the country without so much as a raise. What you would do for him, I wonder… Or rather, what he would do without you. I am pleased to read that Mg. Hawkins is in his element in the countryside and having a great time. Meanwhile, I have rarely heard Mg. Equlee complain so much as in the past few days. Something about how they will succomb [sic] to boredom without the most entertaining clown in town. I am divided between patting him on the back for the loss of his favorite pastime of picking a fight with your mage, or believing his condescending tone and idly nodding along. I have no doubt that they will

[End of Page 1] [Eris Mirrow’s address & the date appears on all pages, and have been eliminated for clarity]

find a way to piss each other off despite the distance, but I would never dare ruin the sulking of Mg. Equlee; which is the reason I have passed your most sincere apologies with as much dramatics as I could muster. You would, without a doubt, have been a better performer of this trick than I was. I do not know which shocked Mg. Equlee the most; to hear an apology from my mouth or that Mg. Hawkins did not leave a message for them through your letter. Either way, they resumed their theatrics a little less loudly so I suppose it must have worked. For what it is worth, I do share your reservation on this assignment. The Council does not make a habit of sending their greater mages away from Avalon without a reason. I remember on Kathrina Devolee, a good five years back or so, who’s [sic] name had been sullied by dirty rumors of unconventional use of magic, to which the Council had answered with a swift assignment to the North. I do not believe anyone has heard much from her since. (Writing these words, I realize it was indeed you who told me this tale. It goes to show, once again, that you are the ever flowing source of gossip in this part of town. I will do my best to fill the role in your absence, but do not keep your hopes up.)

[End of Page 2]

I have been around Vimes Place to get your satchel back. It was, as you have so helpfully provided, propped on the front table. You will forgive my curiosity as I could not help but wonder exactly what novels you would put alongside such ever-so-important notes. I am unsurprised to find there your classic Aliyah Prestance. I do not remember a time of our lives where you did not carry at least one of [scratch out - “your”] her works. I might’ve shipped a few recommendations of my own in your satchel, so do not be offput [sic] if it seems heavier than you remember it to be. Mg. Equlee was glad to put some complex lock on the whole package, no doubt just a tad more complex than necessary, just to be annoying. I hope you will be able to retrieve the contents fast enough. I will, of course, keep a watchfull [sic] eye on your plants. My green thumb might not be as good as yours but how hard could it be, right? Your plants are safe with me. I hope the countryside treats you well and

[End of Page 3]

that you will keep describing its people and sights in your letter. The world always seems brighter through your eyes, though I ever so wonder where that enthusiasm keeps coming from. I am hopeful that the Coucil [sic] will call you back soon enough. In the meantime, have my good wishes and thoughts.Awaiting your reply, Eris.

[To the right of the signature is a sticker depicting a tiger, a small girl, and a rabbit. The small girl is pulling clothes out of a suitcase the rabbit is sitting on. The art is done in an engraving style, with black lines on a white background.]

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the-tmnt-ficfinder · 2 months

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Ficfinder finds: So, I guess…we all have issues.

TMNT 2012 Fanfic Summary: Mikey wasn't insane. He knew he wasn't. He really did have three brothers and a father, no matter what his paperwork said. Also, none of his family was human, and neither was he. That was the truth about him, no matter what anyone else thought. (Sticking by that truth got him thrown into an asylum. What a surprise.) **Winner of FIRST PLACE in the Universal TMNT Mature Fanfic Competition 2016 for MOST COMPELLING AU, and winner of SECOND PLACE for MOST SPOT ON PORTRAYAL OF MICHELANGELO.**

So, I guess…we all have issues: Appraisal and Ratings

(Don't know what fanfic "Appraisal and Ratings" means? Check out my explanation on my Main Masterpost! Looking for a different fanfic to read? Head on over to my Fanfic List Masterpost!)

Disclaimer: This fanfic is completed, and is part of an unfinished series. This fic has an ending that isn't a cliffhanger for anyone who was worried.

The fanfic ratings are not based on quality, favoritism, or how good I think it is, but rather, how intense a subject may be. Like a movie review, or the tags on Ao3, letting the readers know what to expect.

Plot: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Plot is five out of five!! The plot of this story is compelling, confusing, invigorating, and enticing!! Right away, it grabbed my attention, and I got sucked into the story!! The plot was unique, unlike anything I'd read before, for sure a good read!!"

Suspense/Mystery: 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Suspense/Mystery is four out of five!! Right off the bat, I was on the edge of my seat!! This fanfic is FILLED with suspense, and so so much mystery!! It gets a little intense even, which can be really fun!!"

Angst/Hurt: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Angst/Hurt is five out of five!! Aw man, the hurt, the sadness, the confusion and loneliness. Augh!! This fanfic is filled to the brim with mental illnesses, mental dilemmas, mental struggles that all effect the characters very very physically. Hurt my soul to read, and I loved every second of it."

Fluff/Comfort: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Fluff/Comfort is two out of five!! The fluff/comfort levels of this fic are fairly low. While comfort happens, the fluff it minimal, which only serves to make the impact of the hurt and angst even better!! Plus, it gives it a more realistic feel, as in real life, most of us don't receive comfort when we're hurting. At least, not like how its most often portrayed in fanfics."

Emotions Conveyed: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Emotions Conveyed is three out of five!! Ah, the emotions displayed in this fanfic are masterfully and I do mean masterfully written!! Some of the scenes and chapters definitely screwed with my head, influencing my moods for sure. Emotional manipulation in writing form!! Beautiful!!"

Drama/Tension Level:💛💛💛💛💛

"Drama/Tension Level is five out of five!! Oh gosh, the stress, the anxiety, lemme say it again; THE ANXIETY!! So many times I was convinced something was going to go wrong, but then things were ok, but then not ok, but then ok and-- Seriously, this fic has the stress, but in a good way!!"

Triggers: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Triggers are five out of five!! This fanfic is VERY trigger heavy with the mental health stuff, so please make sure to read the tags, and stay safe everyone!! ^^"

Legibility (Reading): 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Legibility (Reading) is four out of five!! This fanfic is such a lovely read! The thoughts being in italics, and the sections being divided up via large paragraph space makes for such nice formatting."

Legibility (Audio): 💛💛💛💛💛

"Legibility (Audio) is five out of five!! This fanfic is incredibly satisfying to listen to!! Due to the way it was written, the story flows very smoothly in audio book form. Plus as this story runs on the more intense side, listening to it while doing a task is very enjoyable!!"

Length: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Length is two out of five!! 'So, I guess…we all have issues' has 22 chapters, each one varying in length. Some run on the shorter side, taking from 8-20 minutes to read, while others are very long, taking up to even an hour to read (though there are only a few chapters with this length)."

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

So, I guess…we all have issues: Chapter List

(Chapters will be added as I rate and appraise them ^^)

Chapter 1

#tmntficfinder #ficfinder #ficfinder finds #Ficfinder finds So I guess…we all have issues #TMNT 2012 #tmnt 2012 fanfiction #tmnt 2012 fanfic #tmnt 2k12 #reincarnation au #tmnt 2012 reincarnation

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jocelynmakenna · 1 month

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It's time for my two cents to the umbrella academy season 4 clusterfuck:

Hey what the fuck was that?

Like I was perfectly fine with the time skip and even though there were some weird choices (cough Klaus) I was perfectly fine to see where it was going to go.

But what the fuck.

Every fucking episode was worse than the one before, finding new ways to trash the characters and ruin any chance at a character arc for any of them.

The lack of discussion of prior seasons (like are we gonna mention ANY of Allison's atrocious behavior?) was kind of odd but I can move past that seeing as they got a 4 episode cut. The season tried to return to a status quo that it implied existed but never defined, leaving it feeling empty.

But let's talk about the characters MY GOD. I'll start with the obvious. Five and Lila? Why??? WHY??? Like overall, the actors have great chemistry but ROMANCE??? Absolutely not. I think a dad/daughter relationship is much more fitting for them at minimum. If I were writing this season, my biggest change to the train arc would have been to have Five with like Klaus. Giving Klaus distance from his family could have served the story better than... I don't know BURYING HIM IN A DEAD DOG'S GRAVE AFTER A WOMAN USED HIS BODY TO HAVE SEX WITH A GHOST WHICH OF COURSE ONLY HAPPENED BECAUSE A GUY WANTED HIS MONEY WHICH JUST IS SO CLOSE TO SA IT MIGHT JUST BE BUT YK GOTTA MOVE ON GOTTA TALK ABOUT BEN NOW.

Because Ben!! Spends the first like two episodes bitching about how the umbrella academy folks aren't his family (because they're not) and then he dumps everything for a girl he happened to touch(???) and then starts the apocalypse. Like congrats man on being the most macguffin of a person ever.

Viktor was overall fine. I have nothing too harsh to say about him, but once again, his acceptance of Allison in his life after she KILLED HIS DISABLED ADOPTED SON is wild. Allison continued having her character ruined by being a "bad" mom which like. Why did you destroy the original universe to get your daughter back to be a bad mom.

Diego and Luther were just. There. They took up space and screentime with nothing important nor interesting. Everything about them and their arc sucked the fun out of the entire show. Luther being comedic relief could have been a fine choice if they bothered to have him DO anything important.

I'm sorry I'm talking about the love triangle again WHY!! FIVE AND LILA AND DIEGO IS WEIRD. ITS SO WEIRD. ITS QUITE LITERALLY THE WORST CANON SHIP IVE EVER SEEN (yes that includes Reylo at least they had ~force connection~ rather than just being sad and fucking your BROTHERS WIFE). WHO YOU HAVE KNOWN SINCE SHE WAS 6. WHEN YOU MURDERED HER PARENTS. AND THEN SHE'S KNOWN YOU EVER SINCE. INCLUDING THE TIME YOUR BRAIN WAS IN THE BODY OF A CHILD. A MINOR. ITS YUCKY ITS NASTY. ITS AWFUL.

Ok the ending. Nothing pisses me off more than a show that decides to undo itself at the end (I'm looking at you Legion, you had so much promise up until the end). The cleanse was Fine. It definitely could have been done better, explained more, built up more etc. I will blame that again on a lack of episodes but there's SO MUCH that could have been cut to make the season flow better (perhaps like the 7 years of train problems!). And then the cowards move of just. Killing off all the main characters (or actually removing the characters from history. It reeks of lazy writing and just. Not caring.

Overall - 2/10

Crazy how this show ended on that season 3 cliff hanger!

#ps why did they never say what happened to Sloane? were we just supposed to infer she died?#pps why did we not discuss the whole Other Ben on the Train? was that supposed to be in the interdimensonal train or just????#ok i think im done ranting #but no promises #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy spoilers

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silvernyxchariot · 21 days

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Deidara x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Mercenaries try to attack Deidara and Sasori to turn in their bounties to the Hidden Leaf, but one of them falls for their target.

Word Count: 2,897

⚠️Warning: FLUFF!! Slow burn. Did I unintentionally write enemies-to-lovers when I was a kid? Ohonhonhon~ Inspired by “I didn’t Know That I Could Feel This Way” – performed by Roger Bart and Susan Egan.⚠️

I Didn't Know that I Could Feel This Way

Premature Burial

My team and I consist of a five-person squad. I didn’t get along much with any of my teammates, but I guess it’s better to stay in a pack, rather than to die alone. We were a small group, obviously, and very few thought much of us; we weren’t hired for many jobs or looked at as a threat to other groups. I wandered the halls of our small abode trying to think of something. Something that would make these losers a little better known and therefore making me a little better known. You’d think that being noticed is a bad thing for a group of Missing ninja, but that doesn’t pay for our living necessities.

The sunlight shone through the window to my bedroom, I came in and leaned against the railing looking up at the clear sky. “Hmm… Am I the only one that thinks around here; everyone else is lazily moping around. Screw this,” I jumped out the window of our two story building and began walking around the small town we were located in. It’s not like our group is seen as a threat. No, we’re a sorry excuse for a mercenary group; we’re not like… like… the Akatsuki.

Hours passed and I probably circled the village about sixty times by now the ground seemed to have a miniature ditch etched into it. The sun began to set, and something slapped me in the face. The Akatsuki work in pairs and there are five of us, if we can at least capture one that’d be perfect! But something like that isn’t exactly easy. We’ll have to start planning immediately.

I ran for our building; this would be splendid. Not caring what the hell everyone was doing I slammed the front door open and called a meeting. Third in command means nothing to me if I’m oh-so–smarter than these imbeciles. Hehehe~ “Alright everyone, I’ve got an idea to make us not just mercenary group for hire but some group that’s worth their salt! Since we’re not great “villains,” let’s change it all up to being Anti-Heroes. Okay, just listen! We’re going to kidnap an Akatsuki member and…” Crap… I didn’t think further than that did I… “We’ll just capture them and… turn them into a ransom or- or a bounty. For the Leaf to pay us. See we’ll just help the big dogs,” I grumbled, “Since we’re just small fry…”

“That kinda sucks,” says Renka, the leader of our group. He’s not the brightest but he does have the balls to try and help me pull off something like this “But I like it. Let’s go for it, we don’t have too much to live for. So, what the hell.”

“They work in pairs, all of us are about jonin level or up; if we all work on grabbing the same one in perfect unison we could do it!” Then it was decided we would take on an Akatsuki member. It was my decision to pick one out; the only known members in public are: Itachi Uchiha from Konoha, Kisame Hoshigaki from Kiri, Deidara a blonde girl, Sasori an angry looking man that’s covering his face, a silver haired man, and another man with green irises and red sclera. Hmmm, since it’s my choice to pick… I’ll go with… the blond woman.

Confrontation

Okay, the past couple of weeks we’ve all done this research on that one member of Akatsuki. “Wow, I didn’t realize he was a guy…” It turns out his name is Deidara from Iwagakure, he’s a bombing expert previously from Iwa’s Explosion Corps, and his partner is Akasuna no Sasori, the poison and puppeteer master from Sunagakure. We were all gathered at our kitchen table, our group work flowed nearly flawless, and everyone works with one another, watching what everyone else does to make sure of our next move. I don’t want to have any doubt in this group anymore. This will be one of our most amazing feats. Some may say we’re desperate, insane, lame, or just plain stupid, but it doesn’t matter at least we’re getting our asses in gear and doing something. We’ll head out now, as far as the information we’ve received, this Akatsuki duo is in the Land of Rivers in the Village Hidden in Valleys. From our destination to the village, I would estimate a day’s travel if we kept going. The sun passed slowly with each leap through the trees, it was boring traveling with these twits. I couldn’t make a conversation with their shoes for all that they were worth.

Night fall never needed to come, 25 meters ahead of us the Akatsuki duo was walking in our direction. If it was our lucky day, it must have been today. Renka as leader of the group launched an Earth jutsu using a crater to block the Akatsuki’s path in return he received a metallic tail. The tail didn’t kill him and while in the air it’s nearly impossible to dodge but he spun and it only cut the epidermis of his arm, not enough to draw blood, so he was still combat worthy. Mai and Hiroshi, more of my teammates, shot a "Water Style: Tornado Spear" and "Lightning Style: Electric Raid" to stall Sasori, the shorter looking teammate. He seemed to scowl like this was a simple chore he didn’t want to deal with. He looked down on us, clearly.

“Looks like we’ve got an ambush set for us. Huh, Sasori, my man.”

“They’re weak, finish it quick,” The shorter man said with a deep a coarse voice.

I would refuse failure but if I died at least I died in battle… And I’d like to put up a fight! Deidara released several white spiders from a ball he tossed into the air. If I remember correctly, Deidara is an explosives expert. Although small his little creatures tore the ground wide open to reveal a cavern of sorts and blew up one of the men on the team. Some of us got sent falling to our death.

Into the Abyss

The small battle was brief but to be honest… I was glad to be rid of that “mercenary group” I was a part of. Before that… On the battlefield above I had enough distractions pulling Deidara and Sasori’s attention that I was able to assassinate Deidara from behind. At least that’s how it should have happened.

Instead, I was knocked into the cavern with him and entered into a fist fight. I got the last blow to his face before he released a weird looking bird to kill me.

I woke up in the dark. My fall shouldn’t have been so hard but that cavern was deep. “GAH! Get off my crotch hn!” What… he’s not dead? I did as he asked but I wish I knew where we were. There were make-shift lanterns in my pouch, I used one to lighten the area. The little flame made a fizzling noise. The little illumination had shown a dull yellow on his face and mine. His eyes were strange… as if he were seeing things in detail… “Well, don’t you have fine lips hn.” There weren’t any deep gashes to either of us but I’m sure we’ll be sore for the next week or so with a little head trauma.

“You’ve got a deep voice. And here I thought you looked a little girl-ish,” I stated to him apologizing for the mistake. This was perhaps the best chance to take him out right now but… I’d rather get out of here first besides he wouldn’t be dumb enough to stumble in the darkness of a small cave against an opponent who’s been attacking him in close combat.

“You thought I was a woman? Yeah, like I don’t get that a lot.” He rolled his only visible eye sarcastically.

“Well, you are of average height for woman and have long blonde hair, what else should I have thought. That’s besides the point right now,” I scowled at him. “Help me get out of here? If you try an explosion on the ceiling, we’ll BOTH get crushed…” Although he should resent me, he agreed to my request and so we began walking in the direction we believed was west.

I hated small spaces. The width of the valley was barely wide enough for a fettle position and only taller than both of us standing on one another. My breathing was a little uneven that posed a problem. We’re underground and the air supply is limited. “Hey, you’ve got a problem or something?” I heard him say to me.

My chest felt like it was constricting, “I’m fine; we’re going to get out of here right?”

“Un.” He knows something’s wrong with me; I can’t stand these walls. “Look if you’re going to start heaving, we’re stopping ok!” I do as he says and sit down in the cramped space with my head between my knees. Deidara sits across from me crossing his legs and staring at me bored-like.

“You don’t have to stare!” I grabbed a handful of dirt and toss it at him.

“Geez, emotional much?” He’s mocking me.

“My name is [ ]…”

“Alright, [ ]; what did you think of my art earlier, huh?” What…? Art?

I raised my head and stared at him. “Those weird contraption animals that got us here in the first place!?” Our voices became louder and resonated through the cavern.

“They’re not weird, they’re beautiful! Or would you like to see them again.”

“Are you trying to get us killed down here!?”

“I have to kill you for attacking me and Sasori, hn!” He had this funny habit of grunting, I noticed. If it weren’t for the situation we were in. I’d have found it adorable.

“Well, apparently, we failed! How’s that?!”

“Pitiful! Your friends up there are probably dead by now.”

“Yeah, that matters,” I said sarcastically. It obviously should have, but it didn’t to me.

Deidara’s one eye opened wide as he stared back at me. “You don’t care about them?”

“They’re dimwits…” I shuffled up to my feet. “Get up, start moving…” The walk towards an exit that may never be found seemed endless… and I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed Deidara’s hair from behind.

“Hey! Knock it off…” I didn’t let go…

“We’re stuck down here; I’m making the most of it…” Our confrontation during our descent started physically, but it escalated verbally. Repeatedly, I guess… I’m having fun.

This is the Wrong Place for That

The walk wasn’t depressing as it should have been; I started talking to the blonde artist. I told him how I was blamed for the death of a feudal lords’ family… mistresses more like it… I helped found the mercenary group that I was a part of and how pathetic they really were… The more time spent down here and where I’m forced to stick with this one person, I started to smile. My heart flutters that stupid feeling like a schoolgirl genin but I can’t help it. I want to see him smile too.

The cave started to become narrower, my claustrophobia pulling up back to the surface… A dead end… the cavern stops here. “Great,” I wheezed. “What now?” Deidara started pounding on the wall, tapping it…

“It sounds pretty hollow on the other side; maybe I should blow the wall open.” Hmmm, he doesn’t seem wrong, I’d rather not have my skin seared off, but I don’t want to die down here either. I nod in agreement to this, and we stand back when he summons a clay cricket from the palm of his hand. Small but effective in his hands.

{Deidara’s View}

I blew open the wall and the sound vibrated through the hollow. The opening revealed a dimly lit hallway of swirls. It sure was dreary. I wonder who this place belongs to? Hm, undergrou- I didn’t finish my thought, [ ] scrambled over me through the opening shoving in my face into the wall. “You could say “Excuse me,” you know?!”

“You were taking too long and there’s no point in arguing with me since… We’re still underground!”

“And it’s my fault…?” I looked at her with an incredulous expression and they began to pout. What a cutie. Huh, awkward feeling I’m getting in my stomach… whatever. I hop out of the opening I created and started walking, this might be someone else’s territory and I’d rather not stay put to find out.

“Do you even know where you’re going!?” They screamed behind me.

“No, not really but see ya later!” We’re out of the cavern now, what use do I have for ‘em now.

I guess they didn’t think the way I did; [ ] followed me through the endless maze of hallways with wondering eyes. I’m thinking they were checking me out, I mean why not.

They caught me off guard, “That’s a smug look you have on your face…”

I looked back at them, “What do you mean, this is my face get used to it.” Our little arguments continued from conversations that were supposed to be “friendly” but that never seemed to work out. In the next corridor we turn to, I get a strange surprise, caged people. They all look up with terror as if expecting something. It looked like they’ve been here for a while.

Someone from inside a cage rushes up to me, “Can you help us?”

“Really…? Where are we?” [ ] asks while pushing up against my back.

“I don’t know ask them.” I turned to the prisoners. “Why are you all caged up?”

“Orochimaru… He performs experiments on his prisoners.” Orochimaru… My lips curl into a smirk.

“So, this Orochimaru’s place huh... Do you happen to know if he’s in the den right now?”

A murmur erupts from the crowd of prisoners and someone one the other end of the hall replied, “He’s at the eastern base right now… in the Land of Fire.”

Hmmm, that’s pretty for from here, but “Where is this base?” I kneeled to their eye level.

“On the border of the Land of Wind and Land of Rivers, huh.” My shoulders slumped in disappointment. “Well, if it gets him irritated when he comes back here, I’ll let you all free hn.” They all looked up at me now not with terror but with hope. So, I blew off the hinges and locks of the cages with a little centipede. [ ] looked at me with a face of admiration and confusion. “What… I’m not heartless, geez. Orochimaru’s gonna get a kick out of losing some of his prisoners anyway.”

We followed the prisoners to where they thought the exit is. They’re like rats; they go in the direction of least danger.

{Normal View}

Deidara was confident and had a strange humor to him. He made me feel like I’m dreaming and the stress from before blew away. I don’t think I want this feeling to go away. He smiled and I’d get a little dizzy. I wanted power and, at first, I was hoping his corpse could help my reputation. But we just meet, and as enemies to boot, I didn’t think I’d feel…

{Deidara’s View}

My first impression of [ ]? Oblivious, short-tempered, and tough. Well, at least they acted tough. The face they made towards one of the children prisoners though made me stop and stare a little. For someone so tough and vigilant, they’re just… a sweet person overall. I never dreamed that I could feel…

Love

{Normal View}

The bright sunlight burned my pupils nearly shut. All the prisoners ran from the exit and scattered, a few of them looked back to wave goodbye, and one woman hugged Deidara before running off. He doesn’t seem to be one for gratitude as I noticed the discomfort on his face. “Hmmm, you know I think I’ll just blow this place sky high hn.”

That’s the one thing that always came up in a conversation with him; he called his explosions art. I let him do as he pleased, an stepped back from the entrance of the base. He didn’t argue with me when we took off on one of his clay birds. It’s strange he would let me travel with him but he hasn’t tried killing me since the cave. So, I hoped, we’d be friends. But that thought was pushed aside when he grabbed me over the shoulders and I could barely mutter out a word. “You were shaking. It’s cold up here for you?” It’s not like a big sweater would be useful for an assassin type like me but yes, I was a little chilly. My nose felt like it was freezing and I nuzzled it into the crook of his neck and cloak and he squeezed my head.

“Hmm, ticklish much?” I purred.

“Uh, that usually doesn’t happen to me since I fly solo and all.”

{Third POV}

The trip to their destination where they were supposed to have a mission with Sasori was quiet in the wind and sky. The two of them couldn’t speak properly even their minds as they rehearsed what to say to each other. But instead, each took side wards glances at the other. All of the feelings from their first meeting to the cavern until now: anger, embarrassment, irritation, bliss… Made them question themselves at least three times since they started talking… “Could I possibly love you?”

A/N: Once upon a time I said in the author’s note, “I'm most proud of this one-shot. It makes me feel all tingly inside and I don't even "have a thang" for Deidara.” Aka, I wasn’t horny for Deidara then and I'm atill not now, which was really beneficial for some fluff. 🤗 Tbh, this wasn't as bad as the Kakashi one-shot; I could actually read through this one without a grimace.

Up next is Envy (FMA/FMA:B) for my revisited one-shots.

#Deidara #naruto akatsuki #Sasori mention #one-shot #fan fic #naruto fan fic #Deidara x reader #reader x deidara #gender neutral reader #fluff

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quietwingsinthesky · 6 months

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38 for the Master and/or 39 for Even? Up to u what qualifies as disturbing :3

what the fuck lee. (<- appreciative)

so here is. 4000 words. of that. unedited, right now, because it is nearly midnight and i've been writing for. well, let's see, you sent this six hours ago so. let's say four-ish hours? and with any luck. this thing that i have created is 👍. that's all i want. i need it to be 👍. anyway. pokes him.

Even has decided they don't like deserts.

It isn't a hard decision. No matter how well they believe they've covered every inch of skin while they trudge through the sand after the Master, Gallifrey's twin suns still find the gaps and cook them to a deep, stinging red. The goggles meant to protect their eyes are too tight, digging into their sunburnt cheeks, but they're still a better option than having to wipe the grit out to see every five minutes. They're soaked in sweat under their clothes, sore from head to toe, and the only thing they can be glad of, if anything, is that the Master is just as miserable as they are.

They don't know why he wanted to come here. He'd dragged them all the way out to that abandoned shack, as though he was expecting something. Whatever it was didn't come to him. They'd at least had some shade under the rotting wooden roof, watching him with their head against the wall and their watch between their fingers. It had been very warm, but that wasn't surprising, given the climate. (Though they'd kept it beneath their robes, lest they risk accidentally burning their fingertips on hot metal when they went to play with it.) Now, he's dragging them back out to their TARDIS—too paranoid about a completely empty stretch of sand to park closer to their destination. Even can make out her shape. The goggles are tinted darker than Even would have liked, but the rise of bone from the sand is impossible to miss, some long-decayed Gallifreyan megafauna for them to crawl inside of.

He's too quiet. It puts them on edge. Out here, it might be understandable, but he'd snapped at and shut down any attempt at finding out what they were doing out here before they'd set out, been almost completely silent at that old building, and they doubted he'd be any more talkative once he was back inside their TARDIS.

And there's tension in his neck. A twitch that won't go away in his arm. However quick his feet fall, they hit the sand too hard, a constant, rhythmic thud that's only aggravating him more.

They look out across the desert and see nothing. They don't know what he's seen out here.

They can guess hazard a guess as to what he hears, though.

They tuck their head down and focus on setting their feet down in the footsteps he leaves behind. It passes the time better than watching the slow approach of the carcass that camouflages their vehicle.

That's why they notice the patch of sand that doesn't match the others. It's dark. The grains don't flow with the wind the way everything around it does. Too much of it is moving.

"Stop." He doesn't, and they can barely hear themselves through the fabric keeping the lower half of their face out of the sun. They yank it down. "Stop!"

That time, at least, they know he just isn't listening.

His foot goes down into the sand, sinks as he tries to recoil from the instability, and then the sand starts moving up his leg.

It's not a Dalek, which is good, and it's not something worse than a Dalek, which is better. Their minuscule bodies glitter in the harsh sunlight brightly enough that Even can see each one easily through their goggles. There are dozens of them digging themselves out of the sand, scurrying up towards the Master's leg. A few of them cling onto the outside of his clothing, and he's able to shake those off. Others go beneath. Even loses track of them.

The Master lifts his arm. Even's not sure what he's about to do, but they take the opportunity he's given them to duck and slip underneath it, grabbing his hand so that he'll hold onto them. They have two feet to brace compared to his one. His fingers dig into their shoulder harshly, and they grip his hand tighter in return as they pull, once, twice—he hisses between his teeth like they're threatening to yank his arm out of its socket—and with one final lurch, he comes free. The sudden momentum sends them both spinning, and though Even lets him go to try and catch their own balance, he doesn't, pulling them down the dune with him.

Each tumble leaves their sides aching. They spit sand dry from their uncovered mouth, enough that they regret bothering to warn the Master at all. It gets under their lips, against their gums, and there's nothing they can do about that but shove it to the side to deal with later. They get traction, turning as they roll to grasp out at the shifting dune and drag themself to a halt. They don't roll as far as he does. Even gets their knees under them. The sand is so hot that they can feel it beneath their palms, through their gloves. They suck in a breath, only to choke on it, hot grains flying freely down their airway. By the time they've managed to gag up a pitiful amount of saliva from the back of their throat, they look up to see the tiny, shining things moving together like a snake through the sand towards them.

Even carries the weapons, as they carry the water. To reach for their gun is almost comforting in how familiar it is, from the weight to the notches their fingers find to grip it to the way it wakes up in their hands as they aim.

The sound it makes when they fire is just as familiar, though it lingers in their ears with different ghosts. Exterminate, their mind echoes when nothing else supplies the sound. (Certainly not the long-destroyed owner they'd peeled the foundation of their weapon off of.) Their lips part slightly, the first syllable curling their tongue- And then the shot lands with a burning crackle at the head of the illusory snake. It breaks apart, scattering bodies across the sand, some burrowing immediately to get away from the fire that catches briefly against the sand. The blast area is charred black. They can't tell if that's the sand or the tiny…

"What were those?" they ask the Master, tipping their head back towards him. The calm feeling that follows a successful shot shrinks away. At first, they think he's seizing, but his movements are too coordinated. He's trying to strip his clothes away from his leg, and the skin he reveals is crawling with the things.

Or bleeding. Why is he bleeding?

Even shakes their head before they skid down the rest of the dune towards him. When they touch him, he snaps his head in their direction, teeth bared and eyes wild with as much fear and anger that can fit in them. Even freezes like prey should.

The Master squeezes his eyes shut. He gropes for their hand, haphazardly slapping their weapon from it. It lands in the sand, forgotten as he drags them in closer. "Kill them," he coughs. There's sand sticking to every bit of his face that's exposed. "The ones that haven't burrowed-"

They hate that word, suddenly. "Hold still!" they snap back, pulling their hand out of his grip. He tenses up. Their heart pounds hard in their skull, right at their temple. The things are wriggling across his skin, and they see one- The tint of the goggles makes it hard to tell when they're in the shadow cast by Even's own body, but it stops moving, squirms, and then the Master's skin breaks around it as they realize too late where it's going. Even's stomach clenches. The Master makes a painful whine in the back of his throat, leg convulsing.

They don't know what else to do. They slap one of the things. There's a crunch underneath their palm. They draw it back, and that one isn't moving.

They hit another one, and the Master bites down on a scream. It's his skin they're striking to get at the creatures.

Are they alive? Their bodies don't come apart when they cease to move, no matter how hard Even hits them. A leg breaks off of one of them, but they don't burst like a body that small should. They don't leak any fluid onto their gloves or the Master's skin.

Even kills them, one by one, not nearly fast enough to stop more from digging into him. He can feel where the things are crawling and can direct Even's hands, but the Master can't catch any of them fast enough without seeing them, without being distracted by the rest making their way deeper into his flesh.

The sand is littered with tiny broken bodies. Even doesn't have time to examine them. "Get up," they tell him. His head rolls back against the sand, expression contorted with pain. Even doesn't wait for him to listen. They pick up their gun and stow it. They get on one knee, their heel sinking slightly into the sand as they get ready. They haul him up into a sitting position. He protests that with a hiss between his teeth, which they ignore. "Get! Up! I need to fix you!" They're grateful that of the two of them, they weigh more. It's still a struggle to pull him up to his feet. They don't think they could carry him outright, but if he can do even a little of the work, they can stumble the rest of the way to their TARDIS.

The Master tries to take too much of his own weight. He screams.

Even winces. They adjust their grip on him until he's slumped against them, his head knocking theirs as his heavy inhales ring in their ear.

"I said to stop," they whisper, very quietly. They're pretty sure he doesn't hear them. That he can't hear anything but his own breathing.

They lumber the final stretch to the TARDIS like a three-legged beast. The Master staggers more than he steps, and Even shoulders the unsteady burden of him as best they can.

They between two ribs, and their foot hits the floor of their TARDIS rather than more sand. They drag the Master forward a few more feet before they finally let him slip away from them. He doesn't scream this time, but they still hear the sound that could have been one as its strangled to death in his throat.

They can't move. They have to, but they can't look away from his collapsed body, shaking with pain. Not until the Master's voice scrapes out of his raw throat and breaks whatever was holding them in place. "Tweezers." Even nods. "Keep one alive. I want to see it. Kill the rest, and don't let them touch you."

Even wants badly to discard the outer layers they're wearing, but they don't. They'll take whatever protection they can get.

The Doctor's TARDIS had a very well-stocked medical chamber. Theirs is not, but it keeps them alive. (And they have the feeling it still would have been thousands of years more advanced than anything Earth had access to, at the least. Some medical technology doesn't change, however. Like tweezers.) Even will probably help him into it later, once the active threat is gone and he still needs patching up.

They bring a box with them. It did have something else in it, but they turned it upside down and dumped its contents on the floor. It's a box for specimens now.

The Master is not dead when they get back. They let out a breath. He's propped himself against a wall, working to expose each of the bleeding intrusions. Even counts thirteen of them.

They sit in front of him. He's knocking his head back against the wall. They try not to count out the beats, head down to work.

There are three in his torso, and they hope those are the most shallow. They had to crawl further than the others to get there. Even swallows back nausea imagining the tiny bodies clawing and digging deeper into him. They rest a hand against his sternum to keep him still, the beat of his skull against the wall the only thing they can hear as they concentrate. The tweezers widen the hole the thing had made slightly. The Master's mouth twists. Even wants to drag their hand through their hair, but both are too busy to allow it. The tweezers slide deeper, grasping at nothing at first. Deeper, deeper, and Even thinks they have something. It's bumping the end of the tweezers, something they hope means that whatever is at the end is moving on its own. They squeeze the tweezers a few times until they catch hold. Even drags it back out gingerly.

They pause to look at the thing. It's sort of like a bug, with a fat, bullet body cased in black and flailing legs, covered in slick blood. It looks vaguely familiar to them, but they can't place it. Then again, most bugs look the same to them. They put the first one they retrieve in the box and shut it in.

Again, they delve inside him. The Master begins to whine again, but this time, the noise doesn't stop, just rises and falls as they dig around for the bug.

"Distract yourself," Even urges. "Talk at me." The Master pushes a breath out between his teeth.

He shoots a hand out. The movement jars Even's arm and jabs the tweezers into something inside him that makes him squirm. They manage to get a hold on the next bug. It struggles against them as they pull it free from his belly and slap it against the ground, crushing it under their foot for good measure. The metallic crunch they heard before is even louder that time.

The Master curls his fingers twice, jerking his hand towards the box. Even pauses to give it to him. He can see the bug safely through the translucent sides.

His brow furrows, this time in more concentration than pain as they go digging for the third bug.

"I don't know what that is," he finally says. "It's not organic?"

"Not organic. Doesn't bleed," they answer.

"It's almost shaped like a sand beetle." He tilts the box. "Too short, I think. The coloring is wrong. It might be enough to fool someone else. Not anyone who spends their free time in the drylands, but who would ever go there voluntarily?"

We did, Even doesn't say. They're too focused now, and they don't want to break his train of thought and risk him dropping away from speech into more awful noises. He's stopped beating his head so hard against the wall.

"I don't think they were meant to be there, or we would have seen more of them." He shuts his eyes briefly. "Or not now. Not yet. Not anymore." He squeezes them shut tighter, his whole face wrinkling around the force of it. "You have no idea what it feels like when time is breaking and reforming around us!" he snaps at them, volume rising out of nowhere. Even shrinks back, eyes narrowed at him, but they don't stop digging for the bug. "It's all deteriorating, with us inside! I don't-" He cuts himself off, sucking in breaths hard and fast as Even grabs for the bug, hits something, and then only pulls free one broken leg of it.

"No. Talk." He's shaking again. "Talk!" They force the tweezers back into the same hole. They get the body of the bug this time. they pull it out.

"I don't know what it is," he says, quiet again. "I left. I left before it got worse. So I don't know what it is, or who made it." Even straightens his leg out to dig in his thigh for more bugs. "Or maybe it isn't from the war. Maybe someone's science fair project got out."

"Science fair projects don't kill people," Even says. "They're… bananas. I think." They try to cast their mind back to when they heard about that, and they think that's what the Doctor said they were. "You plug batteries into them." The Master's leg twitches as they pull another bloody hunk of bug out of him.

"Not at the Academy." Their eyes flick up to his face, but his are closed, his hand resting over them. The box with their living specimen rests on his stomach, the thing inside angrily twisting and clicking away to no avail. "Well, xenobiology, maybe, but you would never win anything if you were playing with something from Earth."

"Don't all the children win at a science fair?"

"Not," the Master repeats, "at the Academy." (Even mouths the phrase themself, very quietly, because it feels wrong for it to only be repeated once.) He pauses. "I'm sure wherever taught you gave you plenty of little fake metals so that you felt like you were worth something."

Even crushes another bug. Only a few more. The Master looks slightly dazed when he opens his eyes, staring up at nothing.

They stare down at the bloody tweezers for a moment, considering their words.

"I didn't go to school," they offer.

"I'm not surprised. The Doctor enjoys when you're all so easily impressed."

Even was going to tell him more.

They glare at him instead before shoving the tweezers in again. The Master jerks hard enough that his head cracks back against the wall.

Soon, they're surrounded by tiny broken bugs. Even has to help him back into the guts of their TARDIS, to the medical chamber where he'll be able to heal the rest of the damage or tell them how to. Only once as they make their way down does Even turn their head and shove their nose against his neck. They breathe in deep. He just smells like blood and sand and sweat. His cells are staying exactly the way they are. Nothing burns. They did a good job. They relax.

They aren't sure what he does with the specimen they pulled out of him.

~~~~~

He only thinks of sending them something after he gets 'fired.'

The problem being, of course, that at that exact point in time, he's not sure where Even would be. He considers investigating St. Paul's Cathedral, but however small the chance is, the idea of running into herself-

He thinks about it one last time: walking up to them, perhaps as they're peering through the water like they could see the cybermen inside, watching the refracted light play off the 'uniform' she'd picked out for them to wear, and he would say…

He would say...

In the end, there's an easier time, an easier place. One of the benefits of time travel: he never pays for postage, and his presents always arrive when he means them to.

-----

"You're thinking about it," Even says, kneeling down in front of the coffee table to do the puzzle they laid out on it. Rose had told them to do it on the kitchen table instead, but they hadn't wanted to use up the space. Their legs feel numb now. They keep delaying the painful restart of pins and needles. "Torchwood?" they look up at Rose. She's sprawled over the couch, chewing on her nails, brow furrowed. Even wonders if that's because of the conversation or because she's starting to taste the nail polish she's chipped off. Even hates how nail polish tastes more than they hate how it smells.

"It's not the same, I know that," Rose says. Even tilts their head. "This universe, I'd have Jack watching my back, and I think I'd take that over anything." She pauses for a moment. "It's weird, though. It's almost like he doesn't want me there."

"…He asked," Even says, slowly, unsure what she means. If Jack didn't want her, he wouldn't offer at all, right?

They turn the puzzle piece in their hands over and over. They don't like the texture of it. They drop it, and their hands inevitably fall back to the watch, still strange in its warmth, its various edges not fully memorized by their fingers. They play with it absently.

"I think he felt bad for me." There's a tone of voice Rose uses when things hurt, and Even isn't supposed to poke at them. Or, not Even specifically, but they think other people recognize the tone better and they were the one who had ended up poking too much before they started listening for it.

They still want to ask, but they keep their mouth shut instead.

"There's UNIT," they say. "…Martha works with UNIT." Rose smiles at Martha's name.

"Or I could go back to school," she says. "Get myself a degree in…" She trails off, then shakes her head. "Anything I want."

Even frowns. They squeeze the watch. They thought this was a choice they were both making. They hadn't considered Rose might want to go somewhere they couldn't follow.

"I don't want to lie to him," Rose says.

"But we are."

"Then I'm not adding more on top of it." Rose sits up. "Maybe. I don't know." She squishes the side of her face against her hand and then lets it slide down, turning her head to look at Even over the tips of her fingers. Her eyes flick down at the puzzle, back to the piece Even is stuck on, and after a few moments, she says, "Pretty sure it goes on the top right." Even looks right. "Other right." Oh. There it goes. "Yeah."

"You love him. It's okay." They aren't sure if that's the right thing to say. Rose's small smile wavers for a moment, her eyes cast down.

"I do." Even opens their mouth to find something better to say, something right that'll help Rose. The Doctor would know. He'd have the right words. Even never does. Instead, they can both hear a door open and close, the flash of the sound of the rain outside, shuffling footsteps, and Rose says, "Can't miss a chance to be part of a conversation about him, can he?"

"You're talking about me?" The Doctor-

John, Even corrects, loudly, inside their own head. John. John.

Too loud. It slips out. "John." He grins at them. They say his name twice more. Rose starts to give them an odd look before it smooths out like she's remembered something, and he doesn't react at all. He's too busy running a hand through his hair like he can get the water out of it that way.

"Told you to bring an umbrella," Rose says. She looks at John the way she looks at no one else, Even thinks, save the Doctor, who isn't here to be looked at.

"I know, and you're always right." Rose sticks her tongue between her teeth when she smiles at that. John holds something up. "You've got mail, Even," John says. The package is small and slightly soggy. "Who do you know from… Australia? There's no name on it." He sounds perplexed, but Even's heart skips a beat.

"No one," they answer truthfully, because that means there's only one person it can be. Rose knows the moment they say it.

"Open it," she says, quick, as excited as Even feels. Even tries to get up, but their legs don't work. They flop to the side, kicking them out and scrunching their face up as their legs wake up. Luckily, John takes pity on them, bringing the package over to the coffee table and placing it in the middle of their unfinished puzzle. It doesn't touch any of the pieces.

Even tears it open with the two of them watching.

There are two things inside.

There's a very small card. Even turns it over, squinting. They always have trouble with handwriting. "'Thinking of you,'" they read, slowly.

"Is it signed?" Rose asks.

Even's frown deepens. "Maybe?" They hand the card over to Rose. She peers at it for a minute. John does, too, leaning against her and laying his chin over her shoulder.

"That could be a D," Rose says, hopefully, at the same time that John says,

"That's definitely an O."

Even is already pulling the other object out. It's a small… rock. It's beautiful, orange and shiny. They turn it, and with a slightly better view, they can see something inside it. They tilt it another way for a better look. "It's a bug."

"A bug?"

"A bug." They trade again, and when Even looks at the card a second time… Rose is right. It could be a D.

Why not Doctor, though? Why not… more? Something aches in Even's chest, and they curl up slightly. They wish he'd said anything else. Why is he thinking of them? What's the rock? Or the bug? Where'd he get them? Is he coming to visit? Will he ever come to visit?

He promised he'd visit.

"You alright?" Rose says. Even looks up, ready to tell her they're okay. She's not looking at them, though. She's looking at John. He's gone still and pale staring at the bug trapped inside its rock. Rose holds it back out to Even, and they take it, unsure of what to do with something that scares the- That scares John. Who may not remember why he's scared of it, but if he is… Even looks down at the bug again. It's trapped. It looks harmless. Whatever it is would have suffocated a long time ago. It can't hurt them.

They don't even know why they're thinking about that. The Doctor would never send them something dangerous.

John swallows. He inhales shakily.

"Fine," he manages. "I don't know why I- Sorry." He shakes himself. "Sorry. It's nice. Very… very pretty."

He doesn't like it, so Even doesn't like it.

They can't get rid of it, though. The Doctor did send it. The card, eventually, gets lost, much easier than the amber does. They just tuck it away somewhere they don't have to look at it. It's still there the day they leave home and don't come back.

They don't have much time to ask the Doctor why he sent it the next time they see him.

And by the time after that, they barely remember it at all.

Which is probably for the best. It isn't like he could have answered with anything but, "I never sent you a package."

#this is. the most substantial thing i've ever written for Even. holy shit.#this baby's got everything we got actual stomping around on gallifrey in the time hell bubble. we got even cohabitating with rose and tento #we got timey-wimey fun and codependent bullshit. everything anyone could want.#<3 thank you dearly for the opportunity to ramble on like this #but also oh dear lord. wh y.#dw oc #ask #fanfiction #doctor who

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voidthewanderer · 6 months

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If you go onto my AO3 page, you'll notice that four of my posts are missing. Mnemonic Impressions, Chemical Love, Christmas Miracles, and the Drabbles/One Shots collection. I've removed them to rewrite them.

Unfortunately, Mnemonic Impressions strayed way too far from the plot I'd originally intended to the point that it's probably just never actually going to wind up being finished. There were too many loose ends that I made for no real reason, honestly. I'm going to be tightening up the plot, removing the unnecessary side plots with irrelevant characters and actually getting to finish.

Chemical Love only had two chapters up anyways; however I want to work a little bit more on it before reposting it. One of those "I know where I want to go with it, but it's gonna need a few drafts" sort of thing and I should have held off posting it until I actually had a more concrete storyline.

The Drabble/One Shots I took down because I do want to rewrite my older stuff. Even though they're original character centric stories, I also wouldn't hate posting them individually more as "Slice of Life" world building type things.

Christmas Miracles is because I needed to rewrite it anyways, but since it technically takes place after Mnemonic Impressions, I want to be able to rewrite it how I had originally intended to write it. So that won't be back until after Mnemonic Impressions is finished.

Now, as for the two I've left up: Addicted is in a place where I can move forward without issue. I'm just currently stuck on chapter five because I know I need to tread carefully with what was revealed (and implied) at the end of chapter four. It's a sensitive subject and I refuse to write it shitty and incorrectly portray what Shae would be feeling upon learning that information. I need to make sure I do all of my proper research and fully understand the emotions that someone like her would go through before I actually post anything.

Dinner Date is staying up as world building for my personal Fallout universe. I've already rewritten it so that it flows a bit better.

I have been... very distracted... for a while now with my writing. That's why I've been focusing a little bit more on getting at least one prompt done when I have them in my inbox a week. I just can't focus on writing right now for some reason. I'm really not sure why. But, I am trying. I'm just hoping I can get back on track soon. There's a lot going on in my mind right now (as well as just a lot going on in general), which is probably why I'm so flighty with my writings; but it doesn't make it any less annoying.

Thank you for understanding my reasoning for this decision! I hope that the flighty mood towards my actually accomplishing any writing ends soon.

#shut it void

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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 1 year

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Last Friday night

If only my fics were as good as my titles. Yes I did go from #1 to #15

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: I really do just be writing these in my notes app

Notes: I just want to make it clear that I am in no way shape or form any sort of authority on BDSM sub/dom culture

⭐️Day 15: Sub/Dom⭐️

Eddie sat at his table in the corner of the party raging around him. Gareth and Jeff on either side of him helping out for the night, at least until they got distracted. Eddie looked around the room, hot sweaty bodies swaying to the obnoxious music blasting through the speakers. There was really only one body he was looking for, a body he’d sent to go grab him a beer over half an hour ago. His fiddled nervously with the lock on the cashbox in front of him, it wasn’t like you to be gone so long… or maybe it was exactly like you to make him worry like that. You finally stumbled over to his table 20 minutes later a half drunk beer in your hand. You scooted past Gareth and plopped yourself down in his lap, the short skirt you had on riding up even further. He sat back against the chair, putting his arm around your waist.

“And just where in hell have you been?” He asked as you felt his hand slide up your back, you felt his hand tangle in your hair as he subtly pulled your head closer to his mouth.

You could hear the soft rage flowing behind his words, you hadn’t meant to take that long honestly. Things just kind of kept distracting you.

“I said to grab the beer and come right back. I specifically told you that you had 10 minutes to get back to me. So I’ll ask you again.” His other hand ran over your thigh, squeezing it as he went. “Where have you been baby girl?”

Your body felt hot as you sat in his lap, he turned your head to look at him and you gave him the most pleasant and sweetest smile you possibly could.

“Okay Eddie, see here’s what happened Nan-“

You’re cut off by a sharp tug to your hair, you wince a bit as you feel your body get hotter.

“Try again.”

You gulp and straighten out a bit, squeezing your thighs together as you wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Nancy stopped me to talk to her daddy I swear” you whisper to him, your lips purposely ghosting the shell of his ear. “She wanted to ask me something about Robin and then we found Robin but she was with Steve and Steve offered me a couple shots and-“

“You went to go do shots… with Harrington?” He pulls away to look at you, blinking slowly as if he’s trying to process what you said.

You nod slowly, seeing the dark look in his eyes, his hand stops rubbing your thigh and he turns to the guys.

“You guys take 10, we can handle things for a while” His voice is nonchalant but your body still shivers as he turns you in his lap, facing you forward. Gareth and Jeff leave you to your demise, Jeff throwing his head back laughing as the two of them go to enjoy the party.

Eddie holds your waist in front of him, rubbing his hands up and down your sides for a moment. It’s a relatively dark corner and he looks around for a minute before leaning his chest against your back.

“Do me a favor baby girl and roll a few more for me?” He asks innocently as he scoots you forward a bit.

“Y-yeah how many?” You ask as you open the box in front of you, your hands shaking.

“Oh I don’t know…. Four maybe five.” He says, and your heart drops as you feel him adjusting himself. You stand up a little just enough for him to slip inside your soaked core. He pulls you back down and against his chest as he sits back, spreading your legs a bit.

“And make sure you do it right” You feel his hand snake its way down your skirt and toy at the wet spot starting to form on your lace panties. He rubs at them a bit before pulling them to the side and tracing gentle circles on your clit. You whine and try to move against his fingers but he grabs you by your hip, keeping you in place.

“You know better than to do that” He tsks softly as he gives your cunt a light slap, your body jerks as he goes back to rubbing slow torturous circles. You squeeze your legs around his hand and try to adjust yourself on him, anything to relieve the thick pressure of him inside you but he holds you down, making you take every inch.

“You be a good girl and keep rolling for me” He whispers as he starts pumping into you. Your head lolls back for a second as he pulls out, thrusting back in harshly. His hips snap quick and deep as your body melts against his. He lifts you up a bit onto the table to support you and you moan, your head falling forward. Your cheeks feel flushed as you peek out through your arms, no one seems to have any idea of what’s happening in your tiny corner as Eddie rocks his hips into yours.

“Thats it little one I know you can take it” his long hair falls in his face as he leans over you, kissing your neck and shoulders. “Look at you taking it in the middle of this party” He chuckles as he slides his hand back down to squeeze your clit, your hips rutting into his as he does.

Eddie pulls your hair up, making you look out at the party. Your eyes widen as you make eye contact with Steve, he smiles for a second before tilting his head as he squints. His eyes nearly pop out of his head as he finally sees Eddie leaned over you.

“Eddie!” You hiss as you try to break free from his hold, he pushes his hand on your back and keeps you down laughing evilly as he keeps going.

“I believe I said five sweet girl and you’ve yet to complete one” He pulls you up from the table and backs up in a bit more into the corner so it looks like you’re just standing there. Your tits bounce as he thrusts into you, moaning loudly in your ear and you’re just glad the music is louder. He buries his head in your neck quietly chanting your name as you both get closer to finishing. You look up again to Steve still staring at you, he adjusts himself a bit and you bite your lip harshly.

“Do you like being watched sweet girl? Do you like Harrington drooling over those gorgeous tits? Come on baby girl cum on this cock.”

He slaps a hand over your mouth as you yelp, your body grinding down on his cock. He shoves his other hand down your pants and rubs your clit as your body bucks against his hand. You feel him fill you up with his hot seed as he thrusts harder into you and groans, your eyes shut as you see Steve coming over quickly. Eddie holds you against his body tightly as you go limp in his arms, he guides you back to the chair you’d both been sitting in and plops down hugging you to his chest.

Steve tosses a few bills onto the table and Eddie pokes at you, you pull yourself up weakly and hand him the joint you’d rolled. He looks back at Eddie, who has a large grin on his face.

“And she’s gotta roll four more just like it.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #words by Rhys #I could have done better #I’m so hurt by my own self #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #am I the queen of ending in one liners #when I tell you I did NOT edit this #I need an editor

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