#or it just peters out like most story ideas

[blueikeproductions]

So next month, EarthSpark is returning for its (most likely) final batch on Paramount+.

The plan so far is it premiers October 25th.

It’s labeled “S3”, but realistically it’s just the next round of the second season. What it involves is anyone’s guess, because the old planning document that was leaked that first revealed CyberWorld has only confused things.

The EarthSpark toys are on clearance and being phased out. Those unsold, dust collecting Cyber Combiners are going to Ollies before long, and the Chaos Terrans aren’t even on shelves here. The Legacy toys are mostly gone too, the TF section is nearly all TFONE and a modest Studio Series selection.

There’s no conceivable way a series that tanked on streaming is getting specials during the successor’s tenure. If that’s how it worked, Animated would’ve gotten a special that tied up loose ends when Prime was on.

The only thing we’re probably getting is Prowl, and maybe Mirage since he was plastered on the leaked document. Considering how poorly handled ES’s (and CV’s since they share staff) ideas were, I don’t have high hopes the Quintesson and Decepticon plot will be handled well to close out ES. Modern shows have a bad habit of butterfly chasing, one idea that has potential to be fleshed out is abandoned on a whim in favor of a spur of the moment idea that isn’t much better. Entertainment in general also tends to learn the wrong lessons, like the awkward lesson taken from Lightyear is the gay kiss was the problem, so let’s just not do gay stuff at all. The gay kiss didn’t help matters due to international cultures unfortunately and the loudest grifters MADE it the problem, when Lightyear and Strange World’s problems were weak story and weaker concepts. To Strange World’s credit, it’d be a perfect Kingdom Hearts level for Sora, Donald and Goofy to run around in and the world turtle’s virus can easily be made into Heartless. Whether they’ll include in Kingdom Hearts, I dunno.

Anyway my point is, after Aligned, Transformers cartoons have all suffered bad writing and characterization: Cyberverse (said by the creators to be made for and by the fans “inbetween” which translated into Twitter IDW canon), War For Cybertron (so bleak, so overacted, so poorly acted, a downgrade in animation as it’s the same studio that made Prime, written so suffocatingly serious, it’s the 13 year old edgelord’s wet dream we grew out of), Prime Wars (oh god that was so bad, they got Peter Cullen and Mark Hamill to save face, and they instead fell flat on their faces), BotBots (the very belated response to Teen Titans Go! and Shopkins) and EarthSpark (a well meaning show using Rescue Bots’ concepts as a spring board, but refused to let go of IDW’s bad ideas, and used “DEI” as a selling point in an era where its slowly dying out.).

The movies were trying to improve, as Bumblebee and RotB are looked in more fondly by TF fans, they got (what hard cores claim) was the appeal of TFs over the Bay trilogy. And now we’re at TFONE, the film that “finally” got it right, but no one went to see.

So where are we at.

With TFONE, most news outlets agree it’s a good movie, but with its abysmal box office performance starting out, it’s not looking like that’s gonna improve, with the newsies saying the Transformers are out of gas. Or is that Energon?

In a way they’re not wrong. It’s been reported Transformers is on a decline, and with the cartoons and toys not doing well either, we’re back to the end of G2, where things aren’t looking good. The difference is we don’t have the flash in a pan miracle that was Hasbro, Kenner and Mainframe making Beast Wars and later the same thing happening with the first Micheal Bay film.

We have been long overdue for a similar kick in the pants, and I think it’s clear Hasbro wanted TFONE to be that, but alas, it’s not despite the good will.

The only kick so far are the Skybound Energon Universe series. They’re doing, as of typing, phenomenally, with the Transformers book being a decent mix of 80’s G1 Movie, Prime, and Bayformers, written and drawn in a way only the people that created Walking Dead and Invincible can do.

The other good will was the Trigger animated 40th Anniversary short.

Skybound and Trigger are the only things people were on board with. Let that sink in.

Trigger also contributed a poster for the Japanese release of TFONE.

So maybe that’s a sign they’ll be allowed to do more official things going forward. Which I think is a good thing.

TFOne is a good movie, but due to Hasbro’s and Paramount’s own indecision on what to do with the movies, and their increasingly dubious canon, we’re stuck with what is officially declared its own thing separate from Bay, though it’s pretty apparent someone internal had to show Lorenzo how irreconcilable ONE was with ROTF & DOTM because The Fallen & Sentinel Prime can’t be villains of both died horribly back on Cybertron. However, the Bayformers series is still very popular among casual fans and audiences. Universal wouldn’t still have its own Bay themed Transformers attraction with the delightfully snarky Movie Megatron if it wasn’t.

So here lies the issues. The movies. Pretty much after TLK, they’ve done poorly in theaters despite their nostalgic popularity. Notably, RotB does really well on streaming, as it did well on P+ and Netflix (in other counties, it’s not on the American one yet). The Garfield Movie is currently #1 on Netflix after having a weak but successful box office. And with preorders now open for home video, ONE walks a slippery slope of everyone agreeing this is the good movie, but no one cares enough to pay money to see it in theaters. It will probably do gangbusters on streaming, going by trends, so that’s probably the best shot it has, as apparently good word of mouth isn’t enough.

It’s not helped there’s continued confusion among casuals if TFONE is a prequel to the Bay films, and it sounds like in very early development it was leaning that way, but the differing designs, and the trailers making the film look more kiddy than Bayhem, was among the turn offs. Like how does it make sense the Transformers started out as more cartoony G1 designs but overtime evolved into the shredded metal Bionicle style. No cartoon had convincingly explained a style shift that drastic.

It was said that if TFONE did well, Hasbro would use that as the basis of future material. Well with its lukewarm performance, there’s no financial incentive to do so, but the general positivity from people about Optimus and Megatron’s blue collar years and the greatly simplified Cog and Cogless system could work in its favor anyway.

There’s still, as of typing, plans to continue with a sequel to TFONE, and while it’s still unknown if Cyberworld will borrow the Worker-Bot backstory for its Optimus… and Galvatron(?), there’s a chance it might for some brand synergy.

We’re at a fork in the road now that One has underperformed and Skybound is the only thing keeping the interest going. CyberWorld has to do what Cyberverse and EarthSpark couldn’t do and attract fresh kids to get into Transformers. Fans think they’re the only ones that matter, but it’s clear with One just appealing to us doesn’t work we need new blood. Just maintaining isn’t enough anymore. Skybound found a way, now we just need to see if CyberWorld can do so too.

[singmyaubade]

The Girl We Love

Poly!Marauders x Female!Reader

A/N: Hello! Long time no see; this came to me out of nowhere, and I just wrote it off the top of my head; I hope you enjoy it! <3 P.S. I have no idea what to think about this story.

Summary: Can all of them handle loving you at the same time?

Warning: Containing cursing, soon-to-be-smut, etc... Viewer discretion is advised.

--

The boys were enjoying their summer, basking in the hot sun and the chance to go in the pool anytime they wanted. Although it was just Remus, Sirius, and James, that was all they needed. Unfortunately, Peter was in France, but 3/4 Marauders was better than none.

"James, Sirius!" Euphemia yelled as James and Sirius groaned, not wanting to go downstairs due to their laziness, "I know you boys can hear me, and I am giving you five seconds," She yelled louder as the two boys looked at each other in fear as they both lunged to the door, James pushing Sirius into the wall.

"5..4...3.." The boys had rushed downstairs before two to see their Euphemia setting the dining room, "Why is Remus the only helpful boy in this house?" Euphemia huffed as Remus set down the dishes.

James ignored her, noticing the fancy table mats she would only bring out when people came over, "Uh, Mum, what's going on?" James asked, scratching his head, confused.

"Yeah, we never use this table unless James forgot he's human instead of dog," Sirius joked as James smacked him in his stomach, earning a groan.

Euphemia sighed, "Ms. L/N and Y/N are coming for dinner," She answered, setting the plates over the tablecloths.

James's mother and your mother were best friends, practically inseparable when you all were younger. Even when they didn't see each other, James would see her writing letters to your mom.

"Why?" James asked as Euphemia glared at him, "I just mean that we haven't seen her in so long, like since we were like thirteen,"

"You mean when you all would rough house and were into wrestling and Quidditch?" Euphemia hummed.

"The good old days," Sirius added, looking up in dramatics.

"Yeah, when you would tackle her and throw mud on us all," Remus muttered.

"Um yeah?" Sirius responded, "The good old days!"

Having you over was like having another brother around when it came to James. You always loved watching Quidditch and would yell with him when your favorite team won, chest-bumping each other.

You would always dress like the Marauders, wear whatever trend they were following, and play with whatever toys seemed remarkable to them.

You all ate like absolute slobs, and Euphemia and your mother would constantly reprimand all of you, but you didn't care because if you all did it, it was incredible.

When your parents divorced and you went to France with your Father, they all hadn't realized the switch in your presence as much. They would mention you sometimes but would only give it a short conversation. They were just kids; They didn't know much until later.

"This might be nice, you know?" Sirius said, "We haven't seen Y/N in so long, and I do miss having another one of the guys in the house," Sirius wrapped his arm around James's shoulders.

"Y/N is a girl," Remus corrected.

"You know what I mean," Sirius said, sitting in his seat.

"Wonder if she still plays Quidditch," James added, sitting beside Sirius.

"Can't wait to kick her arse in it," Sirius said, putting his hands together tauntingly.

Euphemia shushed them, "Enough of this talk, they should be arriving any minute now, and I expect the most from all of you," She tsked, moving near the door.

"She's talking about you two," Remus said, smirking.

"Oh shove it, Moony, you aren't a saint," James teased.

"Yeah, we know of your unspeakable acts in the bedroom," Sirius joked, winking at Remus as he bit his tongue.

James could hear voices from the front door as you stepped into view, hugging Euphemia, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing; none of them could.

Of course, you were different; the years did you well, but your hair grew past your shoulders, not the usual bob. You were wearing a lavender dress, a step away from your tomboy outfits. From what he remembered about you, your nails were painted in your favorite color, and you no longer wore a retainer everywhere you went.

Your dress hugged your waist perfectly, and none of the Marauders were perverts, but none of them could hide the fact that they were staring at you.

You looked at them with a grin, going over to James first as he stood up from his chair like a statue, "Jamesy!" You squeaked, the childhood nickname sounding different now.

You embraced him in a tight hug, your boobs pressing against his chest as he grew flustered. You pulled back, looking at him, "I missed you so much," You excitedly said, returning for a hug.

James could feel how soft your skin was, like a rose petal coated in shea butter. He had never felt something so gentle in his entire life like it wasn't real.

Once James squeezed you back, you moved over to Sirius, giving him a tight hug. His hands stayed on your back as your lips were on his neck accidentally. Sirius was never the type to blush, but somehow, you succeeded.

Sirius could smell home when he was near you, like cinnamon and hot chocolate, like a long day of Quidditch on the grass and Euphemia giving him a cold glass of Butterbeer kind of touch.

You pulled back, giving him a smile instead of words because moving over to Remus, pecking him on the cheek, and moving to a hug, "Remsy, long time no see," You giggled, giving him a hug as he smiled, trying not to let his thoughts get to him.

Remus could feel your happiness like sunlight as if it was glowing. When he hugged you, he felt happy like never before; it made him forget every stormy night or memory.

They all could feel your presence like a lightning bolt with each embrace, and it was hard to hide when you were up against them.

Euphemia and your mother were still chatting at the door, so you decided to talk with them about their social life as much as possible.

"I missed all of you so much," You cheesily said, sitting across from them all, "Please tell me how all of you have been," You looked at Sirius first.

You had developed a slight French accent, but only people would notice if they genuinely heard you.

Both Remus and James side-eyed Sirius, who looked shellshocked, "Well, I've just been focusing on school since graduation and just been enjoying summer," He awkwardly laughed, not knowing what to say, "I made Quidditch Co-captain with James,"

Your mouth fell open, "Oh my god, I am so proud of you guys; congratulations," You said happily.

"Thank you," James and Sirius said in unison as you laughed.

"What about you, James?" You asked, looking at him.

"I've been focusing on Quidditch and maybe becoming an Auror in the future when I'm done with my Quidditch career," James responded.

"I remember you always talking about being an Auror; I'm glad you still want to do it," You responded kindly, "What about you, Remus?" You looked at him.

"I've been focusing on becoming a healer or professor since I enjoy helping others," He said as you beamed.

"Well, considering you did help me when I cut my knee on the concrete when we were ten, I would say you are perfectly trained," You joked as Remus grinned.

"What about you, Y/N? What have you been up to?" James asked.

"Well, I hope to become a journalist or a write since it is a dream, but I was going to move back to London with my boyfriend," You said as all of the boys mentally punched themselves, "But then he cheated on me so I might just be alone," You said as the boys grinned from ear to ear.

"Yes!" Sirius said as you raised an eyebrow, "Yes, what an awful thing for him to do; I am so sorry, Y/N," Sirius said.

"Agreed, he must be a bloody fool," Remus added.

"I'm glad he's out of your life," James said, "Uh because, he's a horrible person,"

"Thank you, guys; I am glad I found out before I moved with him here," You said with relief.

Your mother and Euphemia approached the table, your mother sitting next to you and Euphemia sitting across, "I apologize, Fleamont couldn't attend; he has business matters in Rome," Euphemia said in a sweet voice.

"That man always focuses on business," Your mother tsked as Euphemia smiled before your mother looked at the three boys, "Oh my, how you guys have grown," She smiled dearly.

"You don't look like a day over twenty, Ms. L/N," Sirius winked as Remus elbowed him, causing the air to fall out of his lungs.

"Why thank you, dear," Your mother said genuinely as Euphemia glared at Sirius.

"First course is ready!" Minnie said, snapping her fingers to a variety of foods. Your eyes shot in amazement at the different dishes, even some being French.

"Thank you, Minnie," Euphemia said, nodding to the elf as Minnie bowed, disappearing.

"Y/n, how have your studies been at Beaubaxtons?" Euphemia asked, grabbing some potatoes.

"Delightful," You responded, "I know that it seems like a reform school for young girls, but I actually do enjoy it there, and we always watch Quidditch, surprisingly," You said as Euphemia grinned, "I do wish we had our own team though, I would love to play,"

"I'll play with you, Y/N," James said as the table looked at him, "If you ever need a partner," He whispered, digging into his chicken.

You cheerfully looked at him, "I would love to,"

James smiled to himself as Sirius side-eyed James, "And if you ever need another partner, I am here as well," Sirius added, making James kick him from under the table.

"Thank you, Sirius, I would love that as well," You said, still smiling.

Euphemia noticed the two boys rolling her eyes, "And your mother has told me you enjoy reading; Remus might know a thing or two about that," She said.

"I've needed a reading partner. The girls at Beaubaxton read, but they don't have much variety," You chuckled.

"Well, I can assure you that I do," Remus jokingly said as both James and Sirius glared at him, causing Remus to clear his throat.

"That's great! Considering I will be staying here, that sounds incredible," You said as James nearly spit out his dragon fruit juice.

"The cat seems out of the bag," Your mother said, eating another piece of meat.

"Oh, I apologize; you hadn't told them?" You said, looking at Euphemia.

"Not yet," Euphemia said with a slight smile, "Y/N and her mother will be staying with us for the summer,"

They all felt like they were in a dream that felt like reality; Sirius was close to pinching himself.

If they were thirteen again, they probably would've considered this a chance to have another Peter around, but now, it was entirely different.

You were sweet, still enjoyed Quidditch, and read while being entirely yourself.

You were like a dream.

"Trust me, they are all excited," Euphemia told you as the boys snapped out of the trance.

"That sounds amazi-" Remus started.

"I am so glad-" Sirius beginning.

"I can't wait to-"

They all said simultaneously, making you giggle, "I am excited too."

From then on, the conversations were light with laughs and banter, moving through the courses until Euphemia decided that all the kids needed to go to bed, to which James and Sirius protested.

They were all instructed to guide you to your room, to which you followed them up the stairs until they led you to a room with lavender walls and blue and white bedding.

You stopped them at the door, grinning ear to ear at the room, "Thank you all for leading me to my room," You said as they all said you were welcome at the same time.

You giggled, "I missed you guys so much," You said, hugging all of their tall figures with a kiss on each of their cheeks, "Goodnight, I will see you tomorrow,"

They all stuttered a goodnight as you closed the door.

And the Marauders didn't know they could ever want something so wrong.

[lilacs-stars]

burning passion of twilight

this is part 2, recommended you read part 1 first! (to avoid confusion) pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is ariel's daughter and a mermaid) SUMMARY: as an enemy of the infamous pirate captain starts making advances on you, you are caught between the waves of your lover and the beaming rays of light given to you by another. GENRE: yandere, quite a bit of angst, comforting fluff at the end, a touch of spice CW: a bit of cursing, mentions of violence (sword fight, small injuries, threats), mentions of blood (just a few cuts), lots of hurt moments (from arguing), reader gets harassed, jealousy, possessiveness, suggestive material at the end, also uses of the word 'lover' instead of boyfriend or girlfriend because it fit the setting more WC: 5.5k (did I go overboard? ...maybe)

A/N: me? obsessed with this man? yes, yes I am. the things I felt when writing this...ahhh we love ourselves a jealous man. shoutout to everyone who read and supported part 1, I really didn't think people would actually enjoy reading my writing loll. I know this one is kinda long, so please bear with me. also thanks once again to the anon who requested this, this was a super fun idea to do! all feedback and suggestions are highly appreciated, I'd love to know your thoughts!

“…and then, out of nowhere, BAM! The entire thing explodes!” cries a boy not much older than you, with ginger hair and dressed in a simple green button-up shirt. 

Your entire table erupts in laughter, with you sparing a small giggle. It is early morning, and you are sitting with your usual group in the dining hall. You’re only close friends with a few of them, and merely friendly acquaintances with the others. After all, you aren’t really the extroverted, talkative type. Not like the boy retelling the story of how he pranked the headmaster last quarter, somehow with the same enthusiasm as the first ten times he told it. 

Peter Pan is one of the members of your large group that you aren’t really close with. Although he is considered to be on the “good” side of the hero-villain spectrum, he sure has his mischievous side. 

He is also incredibly extroverted, chatting up anyone he lays his eyes on. Which is why you've always chalked up his attempts to start a conversation with you to his gregarious personality, and nothing more. 

Still, you try your best not to get too close to him. Although James has never directly said anything about him to you, you can sense that there’s some…tension between them. Although he tries to act discreet, you’ve still caught on to the way James glowers at Pan whenever you’re with your group—although he doesn’t take much action, as villains and heroes don’t really mix. How he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you in tight whenever he catches sight of Pan, and even the few times he’s used his hook to pull you into a kiss right in front of the person who appears to be his enemy. Not to mention how he always happens to find you with some urgent matter or other that desperately needs your attention whenever you and Pan are having—or trying to have—a conversation. Although, now that you think about it, James does do that quite often whenever you speak to any guy besides him. 

Pan catches your eye from across the table, and you can tell he’s waiting for some sort of reaction for his latest joke. You give a polite smile, not really knowing what they had been talking about anyways, and turn away to chat with one of your friends. Whatever’s going on between those two, you don’t care, and you sure don’t want to ruffle any feathers. 

Your morning class this semester is Potions and Elixirs 101, in which you happen, by some cruel stroke of fate, to be seated next to the one and only Peter Pan. What is especially annoying about this class—or rather, about your table partner—is that you always end up doing most of the work yourself, being the only one out of your duo that actually listens to instructions. 

The teacher explains how today, your class will be making Shanty Serum, an anti-seasickness remedy. After he goes over the requirements a dozen times, you finally set off on the mission of brewing the potion, which is always done in a pair with your table mate. 

Everything is going fine, of course; you crush the siren teeth into a fine powder, and Pan, following your careful instructions, manages to brew the kraken saliva until it comes to a soft boil. Just as you reach the final steps, you crinkle your nose as a strange smoky odor fills your senses. You look up from your textbook to see your potion, which you worked so hard on, bubbling and overflowing from the cauldron. 

“Ah, I’m so sorry professor! I could have sworn I only put in two unicorn hairs!” Pan cries, jumping back to avoid getting purple goo all over himself. You shoot him a glare, and he adds on, “And I’m sorry to you too, Y/N! I really am!”

You sigh and shake your head, flipping through your textbook to find the page where it explains how to counter excess unicorn hair. Through a bit of luck and a decent amount of skill, you manage to save your potion and not get a terrible grade on it, either. 

The last few minutes of class, Pan walks up to you. “Look, Y/N, I’m really sorry about earlier. I know you tried really hard to get the potion right, and I just messed it up. God, I’m such a clutz.” He scratches the back of his head as he looks down at his shoes sheepishly. “Hey, but if you’ll let me, I can make it up to you! Say, you got any plans Friday night?”

His eyes light up as he looks at you with a puppy-dog gaze, and your heart melts a little at his attempt for redemption. But then again, you did promise yourself to keep a good distance from him…

“I-I’m, uhm, well, I was planning to study that night,” you say, which isn’t really much of a lie. “I mean, with midterms coming up and whatnot,” you tack on with a bit of an awkward laugh. 

“Saturday night?” Pan pushes, eyes still alight with hope. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m, uh, I’m going out with friends that night. But maybe some other time?” you flash him an apologetic smile, guilt gnawing at your insides as a result of pushing him away. Honestly, you don’t know why James has it out for the poor guy. He seems like the friendly sort to you. 

You quickly duck away and move to the other side of the classroom, deciding to meet up with some friends to get away from the stifling silence between the two of you. Deep down, you knew you wouldn't be able to resist Pan’s offer if you had stayed behind to see the disappointed, rejected look on his face. Still, you couldn’t help but glance back at his direction, feeling endlessly shameful for your cold actions. 

You thought that would be the end of that, but little did you realize, in that moment, how wrong you were.

School finally lets out and the afternoon rolls around again, which means you stand patiently waiting in the courtyard again for James. You pace around the water fountain, fingers lightly tracing along the rim, humming a tune under your breath. 

This fountain has always reminded you of the sea, the rolling waves of the ocean, how the cold water brushes against your skin while it hugs you in a tight embrace. Just thinking about swimming makes your legs ache to morph back into a tail and take off into the blue depths. The worst part about going to the Academy, in your opinion, is that it’s so far from any bodies of water that the only times you get to finally enjoy yourself in your mermaid form is when you’re off for the holidays.

Just as you make your way halfway around the fountain, you see something move on the other side of the water out of the corner of your eye. “Y/N?” a voice calls out. 

You walk back around the fountain to be met with… “Pan?” you ask, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I saw you come this way after school, and um, I’ve been feeling really bad the whole day for how I screwed up in P&E earlier,” he explains earnestly. “And so, I was thinking, I really want to make sure that I don’t mess up like that again. For both your sake, and my grades’.” He gives a little chuckle at his joke, before straightening his face out again.

“So, uhm, I was wondering, would you be willing to help me out? You don’t have to fully tutor me or anything, but maybe help me study and give me a few tips?”

There it is again. That spark of hope in his eyes. And honestly, how could you turn him down twice? After how sincerely he apologized earlier, and now with how he’s still thinking of you and trying to prevent himself from causing more trouble. You may have your priorities when it comes to relationships, but you still have morals, too. And there is absolutely no way you can reject him again, especially when he’s so desperate to improve. 

“Well…yeah, all right. I’ll help you out,” you say, trying to force a smile on your face. 

Pan beams, excitement lighting up his features. “Wow, really? Thanks so much, Y/N! You won’t regret it, I swea—”

Pan’s eyes quickly dart to a point above your head, perhaps catching a glimpse of something behind you. Whatever the cause, he stops dead in the middle of his sentence, face dropping. He goes pale for a second, before morphing his features into a hard and cold gaze. Shocked, you turn around to see what could have caused such a sudden change in his demeanor. 

And lo and behold, behind you stands a dark, glowering James, still half-concealed by the shadows behind him. He holds Pan’s cold gaze menacingly with a dark, furious, yet somehow misleadingly calm look of his own. Then, with no warning, he stomps towards you, ensnaring your arm within his hook as he drags you away. You barely catch his grumbled “Come on, we’re leaving” as you stumble backwards from his tug, practically running to keep up with his wide strides. 

He leads you down a number of empty corridors and doesn’t let you go until you finally reach a deserted staircase. The second he stops hauling you away from the courtyard, you yank your arm back to your side, panting from the difficulty of keeping up with him. 

James spins sharply on his heel, angry glare locked with your confused, half-mad, half-hurt gaze. 

“Care to tell me what the hell all that was about, love?” he snarls. Darkness swirls around in his vicious eyes, deep and unrelenting like the crashing waves of the ocean, and equally as violent.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” you spit back. 

“What the hell does Peter Pan want to do with you?”

“First of all, he’s my partner in Potions,” you reply heatedly, trying your best to hold back the angry tears you can feel already forming in your eyes. “And he was asking if I could help him study. As an apology for messing up earlier today. What’s so wrong with that?”

James laughs darkly, muttering, “Damn it, that bastard,” under his breath. He rocks his head back and forth, pairing it with a wicked, twisted smile that sends cold chills down your spine.

“I don’t understand what’s so wrong with that!” you cry out, feeling hot tears already start to trickle down your face. 

“Don’t you see?” spits James, taking a step towards you and waving his hook wildly in some form of gesture. “He’s trying to steal you from me!”

At this, you recoil, blinking slowly. You can feel the emotions simmering in you, deep down. The calm before the storm. 

“Steal me? From you? Steal me?” you ask, the emotions and fury building inside you like a rising wave. You take a step back from him, your voice rising. 

“Look, Pan and I may not be mates, but I know him well,” James snaps, clearly pissed. “And I can tell you right now that he doesn’t have any good intentions towards you.”

“Steal me? Like I’m some sort of treasure to be claimed? Like I’m an object?” you cry out, exasperated and relentless.

Something flashes across James’s eyes for a split second, some emotion or thought that is rather undecipherable. His features soften slightly, reminiscent of how he was when you sang for him under the moonlight not so long ago. As if his rational mind is finally catching up to his emotional words, his face falls, furrowed brows loosen a bit, and the cold anger in his eyes gives way to a more tender side of him. Maybe if you looked hard enough, you could also see a hint of regret laced in there. 

“No, I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that,” he calls out after you. But it’s too late; you’re already running down the empty hall, away from James. Away from all your problems. 

You’re half-asleep when you show up to Potions and Elixirs 101 the next morning. After your fight yesterday with James, you simply couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. It’s the first time you two fought like this, and you honestly don’t know what to do or how to feel. Sure, you’re still angry at him for the way he acted, but at the same time, you miss his comforting embrace, his soft laughs, the touch of his skin against yours. 

You sit down at your assigned table, trying your best to ignore the ginger next to you. Today, you’re taking notes on a lecture the teacher is giving, so you thankfully won’t have to do much talking to Pan. 

You make sure to listen as intently as possible to the professor, wanting to fill your mind with something other than thoughts of your argument earlier. You pay attention to taking notes so closely that you nearly forget all about your problems. That is, until you’re reminded again at the end of class, as you’re putting your things away alongside everyone else. 

“Hey, Y/N?” Pan asks from beside you. 

“Yeah?” you reply, feigning nonchalance. You make sure to keep your head down as you stuff your notebook into your bag. Oh, please let this be about the homework we were just assigned and nothing else. 

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday.”

Well, damn it. 

You think about giving a quick response to end the conversation, but in all honesty, you don’t really know if he expects you to accept his apology, or give one of your own. You aren't quite sure who is in the wrong here, but you are sure of one thing: saying the wrong thing will not do you any favors in solving your problems.

“What about yesterday?” You try to keep your tone light, as if it’s all water under the bridge, but you can’t help the apprehensiveness that leaks into your voice. 

“Well, I wanted to apologize if I was interrupting something between you two back there,” Pan starts.

You give him a small, apologetic smile, “No, don’t worry, you weren’t interrupting anything,”

“In that case…” Pan runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a quick exhale, before locking eyes with you and asking, “Why are you still with him?”

His blunt question startles you, sending your mind reeling for a response. “I-I don’t know…I just am,” you say, wishing this conversation would be over already. You had never been a big fan of difficult questions that made you doubt everything you knew, or thought you knew, about yourself. 

“He treats you terribly. I’ve seen the way he acts. He’s a terrible lover, Y/N.”

You turn to face Pan directly, a defensive glint in your eye at his accusatory tone. “No, he’s not!” You turn away again as you mumble a small, “And he’s not my lover.”

At this, Pan quirks an eyebrow and gives you a look with a very obvious meaning behind it. “Oh please, have you never seen how he is around you? Of course he’s your lover.” Without missing a beat, Pan tacks on, “And a shitty one at that.”

You huff angrily, but you can’t think of anything to shoot back at him besides blatant denials. Pan must have taken this as an offer to continue, because he steps forward and places a gentle hand on your upper arm. 

“I’m saying this because I care about you, Y/N. You deserve someone a lot better than the likes of James Hook. Someone who will treat you right, take you out on dates whenever you want, and proudly walk around in public with your hand in theirs. Not someone who only meets up with you after school so nobody sees and acts like you don’t exist half the time.”

Your anger only grows at his words, knowing that his accusations aren’t true and that James does care about you…right? Because underneath the part of you that is always ready to defend James entirely and completely, is a part of you that doubts it, doubts him. It’s always been there, lingering in the back of your mind ever since your unusual relationship started to blossom. And now, with a new layer of hurt and confusion having been peeled back during your fight last night, that part of you wondered, deep down, if Pan was right. 

“You need a better lover, Y/N,” Pan continues. “Someone who truly cares about you. Someone…someone like me.”

Your eyes blow wide at his revelation as your mouth parts slightly in shock. You take a step backwards, shrugging off Pan’s hand as you stumble away from him. 

“Wait, please, just hear me out,” he pleads. “Just give me one chance. One chance to prove myself to you. You gave Hook a chance when you started trusting him, didn’t you? And he’s a villain. So why can’t you give me a chance? You won’t regret it, I promise.” He moves closer to you and you keep inching away, until your back collides with a wall and you realize that you have nowhere to run. 

Pan continues forward, your fear skyrocketing at his increasing proximity. “Please?” he begs. “I could treat you right. So much better than Hook.”

He finally reaches you, standing far closer than you would have normally let him, or anyone else, for that matter, as he cups your cheek with his left hand. Truth be told, it feels nice to sense warm flesh on your skin instead of the cold, harsh metal of James’s hook. But you shake that thought away almost instantly, chastising yourself for, even for a moment, putting Pan above James. 

Pan places his free hand on the wall next to your head and leans in even closer. “Please?” he whispers, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. 

The feeling of his exhale, paired with his natural scent that you only smell now when he’s this close, takes you back to that day when you first met James. He had leaned in too, whispering in your ear. You had felt his breath on your skin, breathed in his scent.

You feel an odd sense of deja vu, but for some reason, this interaction causes your heart to race out of pure fear, rather than the exhilarating rush you felt when you were with James. The realization causes you to snap out of your trance and go into full-on panic mode. “N-no, I’m sorry, I…”

Pan growls, not backing away. “Come one! How come you gave a villain a chance and you won’t give me one? That’s not fair!”

Your breathing quickens in pace, the panic settling over you and dragging you deep under like a wave at sea. Your palms start sweating profusely, and you can hear your heart racing a thousand miles a minute. You’re pretty sure this is what people mean when they mention one’s fight or flight response. 

“No! Just, just leave me alone!” you cry, ducking under his arm and rushing away from him just as the bell rings. You run into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between you and him as possible. 

You finally make it to the dining hall, plopping down at a table far away from your usual spot. You don’t care if you have to eat alone; anything to get away from Pan. Your mind is already wandering to thoughts of how to convince your Potions and Elixirs teacher to let you switch seats when you notice a lot of commotion next to the entrance of the dining hall. 

People have started crowding around the doors and murmuring to each other. Curious, you get up from your seat, wandering over to see what’s causing the commotion. As you near, you hear distant shouting and the sound of metallic clinking. You move even closer still, and finally catch snippets of people’s conversations.

“...fighting…”

“over…girl…” “Wait, who’s winning?”

“...did you see that?” “Oh my god…he’s gonna kill him!”

You try to stand up straight to get a look at what's causing the commotion, but the large crowd that has amassed blocks everything from view. “What’s going on?” you ask, not really to anyone in particular.

“Didn’t you hear?” a short, round boy, with big glasses to match his wide eyes answers. You recognize him as Smee from some of your classes. “James Hook is fighting a duel against Peter Pan!”

James…fighting…what? You blink in absolute disbelief. There is no way this is happening right now.

You manage to push your way to the front of the crowd, albeit not without many disgruntled mumbles thrown your way, until you get a clear view of the corridor in front of the dining hall.

You stand there, petrified, as you watch. Hell, it is really happening. James and Pan each have their swords unsheathed and are violently swinging them at each other’s heads, parrying the other’s attacks with deafening clashes of steel.

“You bastard!” James yells, taking another swing at Pan.

Pan jumps back, floating a few feet in the air as he does so, with a laugh. “Oh please, all I wanted to do was treat her right. Unlike you.”

James grits his teeth, countering Pan’s blow with one of his own. “You tried to steal my girl!”

Pan rolls his eyes, continuing the back-and-forth between their swords. “Your girl? As she said herself, you’re not even her lover.” James ducks down to avoid Pan’s latest attack. “Ha, how amusing indeed.” A dark glint shines in his eye as he lets out a cold and malicious laugh, before charging forward once again. “Of course I’m her lover, you bilge-sucking scoundrel! She belongs to me!”

Your eyes grow impossibly wider at those words. It shouldn’t come as much of a shock to you as it does; after all, it’s not like you and James haven’t been acting like a couple for the past few months. But still, you had managed to convince yourself that it was nothing serious, since he had never once directly talked about what you were. And hearing him say it out loud…declaring to the whole school that you were his…it made your heart feel unspeakable things.

“Well, you sure as hell don’t act that way,” Pan bites back, nicking James’s cheek. James recoils for a second, raising his hook to his face and wiping at the gash. He looks down at it, and from your front-row seat you can see the blood smeared against the glistening metal. 

James looks back up at Pan, raises his cutlass, and resumes the fight with a new vigor. Every hit more violent than the last, every offensive move aiming at a critical point. “I’m gonna kill you!” James yells as he lands a blow on Pan’s right arm. 

This gash seems rather deep—far deeper than the one previously inflicted on James—the blood already leaking out and staining Pan’s sleeve. He winces and steps back, but continues the fight. 

You stand there, motionless, too afraid to do anything. Maybe a braver person than you would step in, tell them to stop fighting. But your feet remain planted to the floor, your jaw aching from being clenched so hard as you pray for no one to get seriously hurt.

Pan parries one of James’s attacks and does a quick spin, rapidly gaining momentum with his sword as he turns around and aims the blade…

…directly at James’s head.

A small whimper escapes your throat as the roar of metal hitting metal echoes through the hall. You gasp, heart in your hands, as your eyes take a moment to register the scene in front of you.

James has caught Pan’s blade in the curve of his hook, holding it just inches away from his head. Their arms tremble with strain, with Pan trying to break James’s defense and slash through his neck, and James fighting to prevent him from doing so. They lock eyes, an endless, unspoken conversation passing between them in that moment. Pan’s sword inches closer to James’s head, whose back is bent as he struggles to hang on. 

With a sudden swoosh, James yanks his hook in a downward motion, spinning Pan’s sword inside of its arch. A terrible screech sounds at the rubbing of metal against metal as the sword gets wriggled free from Pan's grasp. James jerks his hook backwards, and the sword launches out of his opponent's hands.

The entire audience lets out a collective gasp as Pan’s sword lands with a clang! against the rough marble floors, off to the side. Everyone is dead silent, holding their breaths with anticipation of what’s to come.

You watch as the realization of his defeat dawns upon Pan, the fear blossoming in his eyes as James extends his cutlass to Pan’s throat. He presses the sharp tip into his neck, lightly enough not to break skin, but still firmly so no one, not even Pan, doubts his opponent's defeat.

“Apologize,” James demands, voice booming across the corridor, tone rather befitting for the captain of a ship.

“I-I’m sorry!” Pan pleas, just now aware of what a dangerous predicament he had gotten himself into.

“Not to me, you moron. To her.” James jerks his head backwards to where you’re standing, in the front of the audience, eyes blown wide. 

Pan turns to face you, eyes locking with yours amidst the crowd. “I’m sorry! Truly, I am! Please, forgive me!” he cries.

James snarls, pulling his sword back, poised to strike a lethal blow. He thrusts his hand forward, straight towards Pan’s chest…

…but doesn’t ever reach it.

Everyone watches, confused—James more so than anyone else—as his hand remains suspended in midair. A soft blue force field shimmers around his arm, just as loud footsteps and an old, yet assertive, voice fills the hall.

“Fighting on school grounds is strictly against school policy, you know.” The headmaster, Merlin, walks in from the opposite side of the hall. His steps echo loudly against the high ceilings, filling the otherwise dead-silent area. “Boys, you come with me. The rest of you, get to your classes.”

The crowd slowly disperses as Merlin whisks James and Pan away. You still stand there, feet glued to the floor, watching their backs until they disappear from sight.

You didn’t see neither James nor Pan in your classes for the rest of the day, and you assumed you wouldn’t be seeing them for a while. The headmaster was generally a kind soul, but he was strict when it came to breaking rules. You didn’t know what punishment he had come up with for them, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Which is why you’re rather surprised when you open your locker at the end of the day to find a note flutter out and land at your feet. Curious, you pick it up and read it. “Meet me at our spot after school. -J.”

A small grin makes its way across your face, although you try your best to help it. You don’t know why, but reading James’s little notes always brings you joy, even if you are in a tight spot with him. 

You make your way to the courtyard, where James is waiting for you by the water fountain once again.

“Y/N,” he says, voice back to being gentle and soft. You open your mouth to respond, but he puts his hook against your lips, quieting you. “I need to get this out first before you yell at me.”

“I wanted to see you to apologize for my actions. After hearing what Pan said…” His eyes wander down to the ground as a grimace spreads across his features. “I’ve come to the realization that he’s right, love.”

You raise your eyebrows at his statement, shocked at the confession. Cocking you head to the side, you wait for him to continue.

“I haven’t been treating you the way I should. And that is going to change, starting today. I also have to ask for your forgiveness for my actions earlier…it was wrong for me to get upset at you for speaking to Pan. But seeing you act so kindly to my enemy…it really struck something inside of me.”

“James,” you breathe, lifting his hook up to your cheek and placing your hand on top of it. “It’s fine, I forgive you.”

“Even for dueling Pan?”

You let out a small giggle. “Yes, that too. Although, I must admit, I did find you fighting for me to be kind of attractive.”

“Oh?” James asks with an intrigued smile dancing on his lips. He uses his free hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. “Then I suppose I’ll have to start more fights then.”

You giggle again, happy to finally be in your lover’s arms. Truth be told, you had mentally forgiven him long ago. Ever since the night of your argument, you had just wished it would all end, that you two would go back to the way things were.

“Why...why did you start that fight with Pan?” you ask, the question having been on your mind for a while.

James slowly lets out a breath before responding. “I heard of how he harassed you in your class earlier. The thought of him putting his hands on you…making you uncomfortable…it was just unbearable, love. I don't care what it cost me; he had to pay for what he did.”

You process this, giving a small nod. Although you don’t quite agree with his methods, you still find his protectiveness endearing.

“I have something to ask you, as well, darling,” James inquires. You meet his gaze, signaling for him to go on. “Did you really say that I wasn’t your lover?”

“I, well, uh…” your voice trails off. You were hoping that he hadn't quite caught that when Pan said it, but apparently he had. Glancing back up at James’s face, you wish you didn’t see the pain etched into his features, all but hidden by the mask he always puts up.

“Well…” you start. “You never said anything about us officially dating, and I didn’t want to presume…” You look down at your shoes, avoiding his burning stare.

James removes his hook from your cheek and slips it under your chin, gently tilting your head upwards towards him. “And here I thought that it was so obvious, I didn’t even need to mention it to you, my little mermaid.”

You give a small grin, finally at peace within your lover’s arms. “You can never be too sure,” you whisper, leaning in and intertwining your lips with his in a passionate kiss, the intensity building around the two of you.

James takes a few steps backwards as you lean into him, still locked in your embrace, his leg hitting the stone of the water fountain you two love to meet at. He maneuvers his way down and sits on the rim, pulling you on his lap. 

You wrap your arms around his torso, straddling his thighs. James puts his good hand on your waist, using his hook to pull you in by the collar of your shirt. You moan softly, the sound melodious as your rampant emotions spark the magical abilities inside you, one hand leaving his back and creeping inside his loose shirt.

You open your mouth as he slips his tongue inside, gently rocking on his legs. A groan escapes his lips as you rub your fingertips along the bare skin of his chest, moving lower to trace his rather well-defined abs. He moves his good hand down to your leg, gripping it tightly as he continues kissing you with a deep fervor. Everywhere he touches, he leaves a trail of fire on your skin. Your body ignites at even the slightest of brushes, a blaze consuming you inside and out.

Which is why when he raises his hook and brushes your cheek with the cold metal, the feeling is all-too welcomed. You nearly melt as your mind completely blanks, your senses overwhelmed. James doesn’t quite understand why his small gesture elicits such a reaction from you—you were now kissing him and moving with much more rigor than before—but he revels in the way you make him feel. You, on the other hand, get lost in the sharp contrast the coolness of his hook provides to your burning cheek, the inferno that swells around you ever-growing as you continue to have a passionate night with your lover.

The moon has its cycles, coming and going. When it disappears at the first rays of dawn, the tides yearn for its alluring and familiar presence yet again. And although it may seem like an eternity away, nightfall always comes, bringing with it the gentle serenity of being with the one you belong with.

You think back to the question you asked yourself not so long ago, If you could go back, would you change what happened, that fateful day you met James? In that moment, you decide, no, you wouldn’t. Because the life you have right now is the only one your heart will ever yearn for.

end x

<- back to part 1

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[greyhoundone]

Some things I found interesting from Rachel Talalay's live commentary of Heaven Sent at Chicago TARDIS:

- The story was originally set in a haunted house with weeping angels.

- Sometimes a single line would be shot across a mix of three locations: two actual castles and a set.

- The script was clear that the castle should have no interior lighting except for the fireplace where The Doctor dries their clothes. Rachel got some pushback from the crew on a shaft of light coming at an angle from outside, asking where the light came from. Her response was, "It doesn't have to come from anywhere. It comes from 'It looks good.'"

- Rachel worked to give more of a horror vibe to certain scenes. She did things like add a spooky wind, have Peter play the tone more for horror, and even consult with Murray Gold to keep the tone consistent. She also pushed for a “creepy garden” as opposed to the formal garden Moffat had scripted.

- Jenna wasn’t available for most of the shots where Clara is writing on the TARDIS chalkboards. They originally used a double, but the double was too obviously not Jenna. It was actually the person who did the colour grading who found other usable shots of Jenna from behind and put them in the final episode.

- Everyone was very worried about Peter hurting his hand punching the wall, especially since he had hurt his hand punching the TARDIS console in "Death in Heaven." They were going to have Peter just fake the punch and get a stunt person for close-ups, but Peter insisted on doing the punches himself because of the importance of the moment for his character. Rachel agreed on the condition that, "If you hurt yourself, you're the one who tells your wife." (He did not hurt himself again.)

- When the Doctor burns themselves and their hand dissolves away to nothing, the hand was sculpted out of Lush bath bombs. Rachel had the idea and suggested it as a cost-effective solution. So they just sculpted Peter's hand out of bath bombs and poured some water on it.

- When the Doctor breaks through the wall and the Veil collapses, the collapse was achieved by filling the Veil costume with helium balloons and then popping them.

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 3- Feral! Miguel x reader

       Was it weird to want to have sex with a version of Spiderman while you were a Spider-woman? The thought had popped itself several times as you stared at Miguel O'Hara. The leader of the Spider Society; the Spiderman of the future; and the man of your dreams. It was no lie that Miguel was good looking. He was no Peter Parker. Hell, he barely even seemed human at times. His fangs, his strength, his everything was just so...amazing.

        You on the other hand were just another Spider here. You had been working at the Spider Society for almost a year now. From time to time you have bumped into Miguel, but were given the cold shoulder. It was sad, but you had to admire the man from a distance. It seemed like no matter how close to tried to get to him, Miguel would push you away. What were you to do?

        A soft sigh escaped you lips as you sat upside down in the cafeteria. Not many people were at the Spider Society today. Apparently, it was the anniversary for Uncle Ben's death. Only a few Spiders were keeping themselves preoccupied while others went to console their Aunt May. You had your own story. Your own lost ones. You were not a Peter Parker variant of any kind. You were different and special, but apparently not special enough for Miguel to even pay you mind.

"Ugh, what do I have to do?" You whined softly before remembering something, "Ah, since almost everyone is out, maybe he needs help!"

        That lightbulb that appeared above your head was a blessing. You decided to grab an extra empanada from the cafeteria and made you way over to Miguel's large office. Hopefully he would be in a mood to talk today. You were even bringing him a peace offering!

-------------

        Miguel hovered above his desk, trying to catch his breathe. He was rutting bad. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Miguel tried to ease his pain by masturbating's, but it was of little help. He needed to be in someone. In you. A soft growl escaped his lips as he tried to picture you under him. How could he ever get close to you when all you ever did was smell so sweet. Miguel had to hold himself back from ravishing you every time you got near him.

        He wanted to fuck your brains out and plant a baby in you. Stroking his dick faster, Miguel tried to imagine your cries of pleasure. Your desperate moans for him to fill you. How dirty these thoughts were when he barely said a full sentence to you most days. The scent of your arousals every time he spoke to you was so tempting. 

"Hello? Miguel?" 

        Miguel halted immediately as something new drifted in the air. He sniffed towards your direction, eyes widening. Now was a horrible time for you to show up. You were ovulating and Miguel could smell it. 

"Is this a bad time?" The drop of your voice was cute.

"Mierda. (Fuck)" Miguel hissed before swinging before you, "You shouldn't have come here," He groaned, his large hands on your shoulders. Your heart skipped a beat,

"Sorry, I just wanted to see if you needed help," You admitted.

        You ignored the twisting feeling of your gut. Your spider senses were tingling, but you had an idea as to why. That look Miguel was giving you was making you wet. His hands moved up to your neck, tossing aside the container in your hand. Oh. You knew where this was going.

"I do need help," His voice was low and needy, "Te voy a follar tanto que no querrás volver a tu mundo. (I'm going to fuck you so much that you won't want to go back to your world.)"

        You inhaled deeply as your body turned to jelly. You understood that. Ohhhhhh, you understood that. Miguel inhaled deeply once more before crash his lips against yours. You did not have time to do anything before his talons ripped your suit. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, causing you to lose air. Miguel was making you dizzy from just his kisses.

        Miguel grabbed your hands as you tried to push his chest. You needed air. He webbed your hands to your back before ripping your panties off. Finally, you gasped. Miguel let you catch your breath as he grinded his hard erection against your cunt. Your heart rate had picked up as you listened to him groan and moan. This man whom you admired and dreamed of fucking, was making such sexy noises. To be fair, moans were coming out of your mouth from the friction he was giving you.

"Ya estás tan mojado para mí. Voy a llenarte. llenarte con mi semilla. (You're so wet for me already. I'm going to fill you up. Fill you up with my seed.)" He panted softly.

        You tried to get a word in, but Miguel had shoved his cock inside your folds. A loud gut wrenching moan escaped your lips as you tried to adjust to the sudden intrusion. He was so large. This was so sudden. Once more, you tried to say something, but Miguel pulled back and slammed himself inside you once more. Then again and again. His cock was bullying your pussy and you were loving every minute of it. He was making you wetter by the second.

        The gushing sounds your pussy made whenever he slammed his hips into yours were delicious. Miguel took your breast in his mouth, finally enjoying those moans he so desperately wanted to hear. Your tight walls sucking him more and more. Each orgasm he gave you, leaving him to want more. He was not going to stop. He needed to feel more.

"Di mi nombre. (Say my name.)" He demanded.

"Miguel! M-Miguel~" You repeated as he hit just the right spot.

        Miguel gripped your waist harshly, his talons threatening to pierce your skin. He brought his fangs to your neck, giving you a small bite. Yes, it would paralyze you, but that was what he wanted. Watching as your body arched for another orgasm, Miguel licked his lips. Your walls gushed around his cock, sucking him in for more. Complying, Miguel groaned as he filled you with his cum. A dark chuckle escaped his lips as he watched you pant for air.

        He laid you on your stomach, entering your throbbing hole once more. Your soft cries were music to his ears. You were begging him to give you a chance to relax, but why would he? Miguel was in heat and he finally got his cure. Pounding you harder than before, Miguel moaned softly as he felt himself twitch inside you. This was what he needed. What he wanted. To fill your womb with his seed. To impregnate you with his child.

"Ah~ Miguel~" You cried out. Miguel brought his fangs to your shoulder,

"No voy a parar pronto. No con lo bueno que estás siendo con mi polla. Tu dulce coño chupándome para obtener más semen. (I'm not stopping anytime soon. Not with how good you're being to my cock. Your sweet pussy sucking me for more of my cum.)" He whispered in your ear. You body shivered in delight,

"T-That's n-"

"I could smell how soaked your panties were every time you spoke to me. Do you know how hard it was to not fuck you each time?" Miguel threaten with a growl, shoving his cock deeper inside to fill you once more.

"Y-You could smell me?!" You squeaked in embarrassment.

        Miguel changed positions once more, placing you on his lap. He freed your hands, allowing you to wrap them around his neck. Miguel noticed that your legs were starting to grow numb. He wasn't sure if it was from his rough sex or the venom from his fangs.

"Si, mi amor. (Yes, my love) And right now, you came to me in heat while ovulating." 

You're burned up once you registered what he said. Realizing that he was determined to get you pregnant, you begged him to wait. Miguel ignored your adorable cries as he thrusted his hips upward. Despite your complaints, you obedienly bounced on his cock. You couldn't help but want to fuck him more. He was too good to stop.

Miguel licked his lips as he took your breasts in his mouth again. You tasted so sweet. Next time he was going to have to taste every part of your body. He had wanted to do it nice and slow, but you came onto him with your scent. Either way, Miguel was enjoying your body melting under his mouth. He watched as he brought out another orgasm from you. Your body laying against his from exhaustion.

"I never said we were done." Miguel smirked.

He laid your back against his desk once more, earning more cries and moans from you. Your body was being overstimulated. Miguel watched as you bit your lower lip, shaking in pleasure from him cumming inside you again. It was cute how you begged him to stop, but made such lewd faces when he filled you.

You on the other hand were so cock drunk to even think anymore. The only thing you can think about anymore was the feeling of Miguel's cock stuffing you full. You could feel your womb full of his cum, yet it still wasn' enough for him. You were seeing stars at this point as he kept bullying his cock into you.

"Hah, perfect fit. Your pussy was made for my cock," Miguel panted heavily, riding out another high. He brought you in for sloppy kiss, "Fuck, I can't wait to finally take you home. Fuck you everyday...hah, finally getting to taste you."

Miguel kept blabbering as he kept fucking you. He was enjoying this after months of denial. You were finally his and his alone.

------------

A soft groan escaped your lips as you finally started to come to. Your eyes fluttered opened. It took you a minute to adjust, but once you did, you noticed that you were in a bedroom. It wasn't yours. You attempted to get up, but your body was weak and sore.

"Morning, mi amor." Miguel said as he entered the room with a wet rag. You cooed softly as he placed the rag against your forehead,

"So it wasn't a wet dream," You muffle. Miguel resisted a chuckle, stroking your cheek,

"No."

"How long was I out?"

"..." Miguel furrowed his brows, "Two days," He told you, earning a shocked look.

"Two-Miguel!" Words were caught on your throat. Miguel stole a kiss from you, stroking your cheek,

"I had a small window. I made sure not a single second was wasted during your time." His smirk only grew, "But when you recover, I'm going to properly taste you."

"M-Miguel!"

The stamina this man had was going to make you lose your mind, but you loved it. Trying to hide your embarassment, you covered your face in the blanket.

"F-Fine, but go easy on me." You muttered. Miguel was taken back for a moment before hovering over you the next second,

"Guess I can't wait afterall. Thanks for the meal,"

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Devil And An Angel

Wanda X Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: During one of Tony's parties, both of your girlfriends tease you and try to tempt you into giving into your sinful desires.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Threesome, Strap-ons, Fingering, Oral sex, Double Penetration, Dirty talk, Praise, Squirting, Dom Natasha/Switch Wanda/Switch Reader, Brief Aftercare.

General Masterlist

“Are you really not going to tell me?” you complain, looking between both your girlfriends with a small pout.

“You’ll find out soon enough Kotenok,” Natasha coos, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled at the action before remembering how you were supposed to be acting grumpy.

“But why can’t I know now?” they laugh at how eager you are to find out what they are going to wear. Tony had decided to throw a party tonight, every couple/relationship must dress up as something together to change it up a bit and have some fun. The problem was, your two girlfriends were reluctant to tell you what they were dressing up as and assured you that anything you wore would be fine.

“Because it’s a surprise,” Wanda says while wrapping her arms around your middle and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now go and get ready and we’ll meet you at the party.” Grumbling, you left to go and get ready, imagining what they could have installed for you.

When you arrived at the party you had to give Tony his dues, the party looked amazing and it was a brilliant idea to have people dress up. You looked around trying to figure out what people were meant to be, smiling at how much effort everyone had put in. Steve and Bucky had dressed up as people from the 1940s, their old fashioned clothing probably from their youth. Peter and MJ were dressed as mad scientists, Peter fluffing his hair up to look crazy and constantly checking to see if it was alright, much to MJ’s amusement. Clint looked so done with the whole party despite it just starting, dressed up in a Santa costume that was from when he pretended to be the jolly man at Christmas for his children. Laura wore an elf hat and a simple dress that suited her, but she was too busy trying not to laugh at her husband. Tony and Pepper just looked incredible, their theme most likely meant to scream money and wealth.

Suddenly, you felt two people lean on your shoulders, their different perfumes invading your senses as you turned to look at them. On your left was Natasha who was dressed in a tight red dress that left little to the imagination, devil horns sticking out of her fiery red hair, black, smokey eyeshadow making her eyes pop and a sinister smirk on her face. Wanda was on your right, dressed in a white, flowy dress with a gold halo in her hair, a soft look on her face compared to Natasha. You chuckled at them, dressed as a Devil and an Angel on each of your shoulders.

“You both look beautiful,” the compliment causes them both to smile at you, the two of them having a turn to compliment your choice of clothing as well. You leaned in to give Wanda a kiss, innocent and sweet, and then turned to Natasha who had no shame in sliding her tongue into your mouth, a small moan escaping you at the action.

“Don’t be tempted by her,” Wanda whispered in your ear, her voice soft while her arm interlocked with yours. “Or there will be no reward later.” You stifled the noise that wanted to come out and just watched as Natasha winked at you before walking off.

Wanda and yourself followed behind and you had to try your hardest to not drift your gaze lower on Natasha’s back. The three of you ended up on a sofa talking with Steve and Bucky, them rambling on about a story from their past while you three nodded along. You were paying attention until Natasha moved closer, her mouth on your ear as her breath tickled the side of your face.

“Do you know how hard I want to fuck you right now?” she purred quietly, “Have you trembling with pleasure as I thrust my fingers deep inside you? Or even better, my cock.” You groan at her words, low enough that no one other than Natasha could hear, making her smirk in victory as she works you up. Her hand grips your thigh, squeezing the skin and moving up higher teasingly before drifting down to rest on your knee. “I could have you coming in my mouth right now in that bathroom,” her gaze travels to the ladies room on the other side of the room, your eyes following as they darken with lust. “Come on, let's have some fun,” she bites down on your ear while no one looks before pulling away and giving you a predatory look that sends another wave of arousal through you, your panties definitely soaked as you clench your thighs together.

After a few moments, Natasha excuses herself to the toilets, her eyes staying trained on you as she gets up and starts to walk away. You remember Wanda’s earlier words and reluctantly stay still in your seat. You know this is a test, Natasha staying true to her outfit and trying to get you to sin with her, give into her temptation and end up with a punishment equivalent to hell. That however doesn’t make it any easier as you suffer with the results of her dirty words and teasing.

You don’t realise that Steve and Bucky had left, leaving you alone with Wanda as Natasha waits out in the bathroom to see if you crack. Her touches are far more innocent that Natasha’s, her hands interlocking with yours, her thumb running over the back of your hand.

“You’re being such a good girl,” she whispers, the praise making you whine slightly. “I bet you’re so wet for us both right now,” your eyes widen at her words, not expecting her to be in on the teasing.

“I thought angels were supposed to be innocent and pure,” you say, hoping she’d stop the torment. She just lets out a low chuckle and smiles at you, making you nervous for what else was to come.

“The devil was an angel once,” she comments, her voice raspy and sultry, “Who says we can’t be tempted as well.” Her hand goes to your thigh, scratching through your clothing and even going as far as your inner thigh near your core to draw invisible patterns. Your breathing hitches and you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything.

Soon Natasha returns, having given up waiting for you, and takes her seat to your left again. She notices the prominent blush on your cheeks and how your hand is gripping the cushion of the sofa, knuckles almost turning white.

“So Y/n,” Natasha starts, drawing your attention away from Wanda’s hand on your leg, “Are you enjoying the party?” you go to answer her question but your breathing stops when your thoughts change.

You’re tied to the bed while Natasha roughly kisses your lips, pulling out moan after moan as her tongue explores the roof of your mouth. Her hands grope at your chest, pinching and pulling at your nipples causing sighs to leave your lips. Wanda was in between your thighs, looking up at you with an innocent look, and licked a stripe up your core, her tongue gathering the wetness that was dripping out of you.

“It’s rude to ignore people,” the spy moves closer to you, her chest pressed up against your shoulder as she talks into your ear. “I’ll ask you one more time,” You look over to Wanda who has a sly grin on her face before Natasha grabs your attention again by sucking on your neck, “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Yes,” is all you could manage out in a breathless whisper, mind clouded with arousal and desire as both women relentlessly tease you.

“Are you sure?” Wanda whispers in your other ear, the hand that was teasing your inner thighs moving to drag her fingers over your clothed pussy under your dress, the fabric soaked with your arousal. “Because I'm sure there are more exciting things we could be doing,” you stifle a moan when she starts to circle your clit through your panties and move your hand to sit on top of hers.

“I just want to be good,” your whine has them both grinning, “I’ll do anything you want me to, just please let me be good for you.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Natasha drags you away towards the elevator to get to your shared apartment, Wanda quickly on your tail.

Once you reach the bedroom, Natasha immediately straddles you on the bed, her mouth descending onto yours as she roughly kisses you and slips her tongue into your mouth. The whole thing is hot, her hands tugging your hair to pull moans out of you, her tongue tracing the roof of your mouth while her hips grind down harshly onto yours as she uses you for her own pleasure for the moment. Instinctively, your hands go to her waist, guiding her movements as she ruts against you.

“Fuck,” she rasps out as you both pull away breathless, Wanda unzipping the spy’s dress as she climbs off your lap and passionately kisses the witch. You watch in awe as their tongues fight for dominance, hands roaming freely across each other's body as they undress each other. You can’t move, frozen on the spot as bare skin is exposed to you, Natasha’s red dress dropping to the floor while Wanda’s is pulled over her head and discarded carelessly somewhere. They wear lingerie matching their outfits, Natasha wearing a black and red lace set while Wanda has a gold and white one on.

“Enjoying the show?” Wanda teases, swaying her hips as they both crawl onto the bed to join you. Her lips crash to yours, nothing innocent about her now as her hands rid you of your clothes. Natasha is now behind you, her chest pressing into your back while she bites at your neck, littering you with purple and red marks and sighing wantonly against your ear to make you shudder. Wanda’s hands cup your breasts unceremoniously as you revel in the pleasure, her running her fingers over your hardened nipples and tugging playfully. You lean your head back onto Natasha who moves to nibble on your ear, her hand coming up to rest on your throat, a pitiful moan escaping you.

“Don’t worry Kotenok,” She purrs, “You’ll get what you want soon.” You can feel her smirking into your skin as your hips buck at the contact of her knee slotting between your legs. “But first Wanda has a question, Don’t you Wands?” Her green eyes snap over to the witch who pulls back from the sloppy kiss with you, her cheeks flushed and eyes darkening.

“How do you feel about you and Nat fucking me at the same time?” she whispers against your lips and your eyes widen at the question.

“Fuck that would be hot,” you sigh out, imagining Wanda in between you and the spy as you pound into her from both sides. “Are you sure you want that?” She bites her lip at you sultrily and nods her head before moving forwards to press her lips back to yours.

“On your back baby,” she husks out between kisses and you move away from them both to lay on your back near the top of the bed. Wanda kisses down your body, licking over the marks Natasha made soothingly before ghosting her hot breath over your nipples and then kissing your inner thighs that were slick with your desire for them. “I’m going to give you your reward for being so good for us,” Her breath fans over your core, your hips bucking at the feeling which causes her to place a strong hand on your hip to keep you still. She licks through your folds, her tongue swirling around your clit while her free hand moves to be near your entrance. Her fingers gather your wetness before she thrusts two fingers straight into you, your back arching off the bed as you let out a guttural moan. Her mouth sucks at your clit while she pumps her fingers into you, your hands fisting in her hair as she eats you out

Moans pour out of your mouth when she curls her fingers and you almost scream when you feel her moan into you loudly. Your eyes wander away from the brunette between your thighs and to the redhead behind her. You hear a click of a bottle and assume she’s used some lube to ease one of her fingers into Wanda’s tight hole and let her get used to the feeling and stretch. Wanda’s face moves to kiss at your thigh for a moment, trying to get used to the feeling of something in her ass before continuing to reward you. You softly stroke her hair and let her take her time and watch as Natasha moves to have Wanda sit on her face, her finger slowly stretching her tight hole out.

The room then fills with your moans and Wanda’s muffled ones as Natasha brings her close to coming and manages to work her up to having three fingers pumping in and out of her ass. Your legs tighten around Wanda’s face as you come with a scream, body spasming with pleasure as you ride out your high grinding against the witches mouth. She follows soon after, clenching around Natasha’s fingers and tongue as she screams into you, biting down on your inner thigh to muffle the scream. The feeling was painful but also pleasurable and you’re certain you're going to have a dark mark there later on.

Natasha moves from under her, not wanting to overstimulate her, and carefully pulls her fingers out. You pull Wanda up your body, peppering kisses over her face as she tries to steady her breathing.

“You did so well for us,” you praise, still breathless from your own mind blowing orgasm as you talk to her. She hums in response and slowly kisses you, the taste of yourself on her tongue making you moan into her mouth. “Are you still up for us both?” you whisper against her lips, your hands stroking her back as she presses her body weight onto you.

“Yeah,” she murmurs back and you see Natasha move to get the strap ons before lubing them both up so it doesn't hurt her.

“Remember your safewords?” Natasha asks while Wanda gets off you so you can put the harness on.

“Green for ok, Yellow for slow down and Red for Stop,” Natasha smiles at Wanda softly then pecks her lips and helps guide her to hover above your plastic cock. Your hands move the tip of the toy to rub against her clit teasing before letting her sink down onto it. She moans lewdly as her hips meet yours and slowly starts to rock back and forth. She braces her arms next to your head and moans into a kiss as you thrust up into her gently, her hips starting a rhythm with yours.

Natasha soon has her harness on and moves to kneel behind Wanda while her hands slow her movements down. You whisper comforting words to the brunette, checking if she’s still ok by asking her for a colour, as Natasha slowly pushes the head of the toy into her ass, a loud gasp leaving the witch as she screws her eyes shut. You’re both patient as you let Wanda adjust to the toy, Natasha soon having the whole toy inside her and letting the pain fade to pleasure.

Experimentally, Wanda moves forwards slightly then pushes back, a low groan escaping her as she enjoys the feeling of Natasha and yourself deep inside her. Natasha starts a gentle pace of thrusting in and out of her while you swallow her moans with your mouth and thrust your hips up into her. Soon Wanda starts to move in time with you both, as soon as you pull out, Natasha pushes in and vice versa and her moans become louder.

“Fuck,” she moves to lean backwards against Natasha, who wraps a firm hand around her middle to keep her upright, while your hand moves to circle her clit. “Harder,” She sighs out, the two of you listening and increasing the force at which you pump your hips into her. “Faster,” the sound of skin slapping echoes around the room as you pound into her from underneath and Natasha snaps her hips against her. Wanda’s breasts bounce with each thrust and her legs start to shake as she nears her orgasm. “Please, I’m so close, don't stop,” begs tumble out her mouth as her hips move frantically between the two of you.

With a loud scream, liquid gushes out of her around your cock as she comes, her hips stuttering as her hands grip behind her onto Natasha to stop her body from collapsing forwards. You both slow down your thrusts as she rides out her high, her legs spasming around you while her hands fall off the spy to rest on your chest while she pants for breath. Natasha kisses along her neck and back while she calms down and when you see her wince at the feeling of being so full, you motion for Natasha to slowly pull out. She whines at the motion and soon moves off your lap to lay on the bed next to you.

You quickly discard the harness while Natasha moves to the bathroom to start a bath for you three and pull the witch close to you to murmur praise to her. Her body naturally moves towards you, her face tucked into your neck as she tries to fall asleep, her body exhausted from coming so hard. When Natasha returns, you carry her to the bath and gently lower her in and climb in behind her so she can lean back into your embrace. Natasha also climbs in, helping clean Wanda off and start her aftercare before quickly washing herself from any sweat.

“Are you ready for bed milaya?” Natasha murmurs into the witch’s hair after placing a soft kiss. She nodded back sleepily and the spy helped her dry off before taking her to bed. You quickly drain the tub and dry off yourself before joining them in bed. Wanda curls her body into Natasha but when she feels your presence next to her, she moves her hand back in search of yours and she places it around her middle. You smile at her drowsy actions and kiss them both goodnight before drifting off to sleep.

[ellecdc]

ELLE !! OMGGGG i read a fanfic based on the movie flipped and i immediately thought of you and how you would eat this trope up or more specifically a childhood best friends to lovers !!

like one day either one or all of the marauders are spending the day with reader then all of a sudden the boys’ hearts start beating a little faster at reader’s laughter or they’re mesmerized by their little subtle quirks and now they’re like “oh fuck… i think i LOVE them love them”

this is not necessarily a request but if you decide to write something like this then YIPPIEEE FLUFF but if not then its just a cute little scenario to think about !!

this was such a sweet idea 🥹 thank you so much for your request 🫶

Sirius Black x gn!reader who he's - oh shit - in love with

Life hadn’t been particularly easy for Sirius.

He was born into a family not out of love but out of obligation.

In fact, he hadn’t ever really known love outside of whatever affection he held for his baby brother until he met his friends. 

He’d been beaten, starved, ignored, and tortured into compliance all before the age of 11; and it only continued tenfold upon his return from school after having been sorted into the wrong house. 

In fact, a lot about Sirius was wrong.

He had the wrong opinions, the wrong hair, the wrong style, the wrong language, the wrong grades, the wrong loyalty.

Sirius was wrong.

At least that’s what his family would have said.

However, Sirius eventually learned that it wasn’t him who had been wrong all this time; it was them.

And whilst removing them from him was very difficult - seeing as they were the ones who bred and raised him - he felt he was doing a pretty decent job of it.

Unfortunately, that meant leaving his baby brother Regulus, and you, behind. 

From as far back as Sirius could remember, everything was always chosen for him; his friends, his interests, his hobbies, the volume of his voice, the clothes he wore, the way he presented himself etcetera, etcetera. 

And though that was technically still true of his dedication to his brother and his companionship with you; the two of you were the only good things to have ever come from his life as a Black. 

His friendship with you was a cherished one.

Perhaps one of the only people who truly got it; who knew what Sirius went through. 

You were the silver lining at every grey and dreary Pureblood Gala and Sacred 28 dinner party.

You were his biggest advocate and protector when it came to his older cousins and the other older Purebloods. 

And you were the only reason Sirius could bring himself to flee that horrid night in the summer before sixth year; he could only leave knowing that Regulus would at least still have you.

But it hurt. 

It hurt knowing he had left you and Regulus to fend for yourselves.

He felt like a coward; like he betrayed the two people who he cared for most.

And he was still so scared; even now, albeit for different reasons.

He was scared because he was certain that when he returned to Hogwarts that September, you and Regulus would hate him.

But apparently, his fears were wrong too.

Because two weeks before the end of summer; two weeks before you would all be piling onto the Hogwarts Express to return to Scotland, you and Regulus showed up to Potter Manor wearing matching timid grins, yet seemingly no worse for wear. 

Somehow, you had gotten yourself and Reggie out of the terror that was your familial homes, and were staying with friends up in Ottery St.Catchpole. 

Sirius never really imagined getting to have his cake at all, let alone getting to have his cake and eating it too. 

Yet, here he sat on a warm summer evening at Potter Manor with James, Remus, Peter, Reggie, and you around a crackling bonfire among the sounds of peeping frogs and chirping crickets as you told some grandiose story about you and Regulus trekking through a vast field where Regulus stumbled in a hidden hole in the ground and cursed for five minutes straight in both English and French before the two of you laughed so hard that you cried. 

Your face was flushed and you were slightly breathless as you narrated your tale; arms flying wildly as you drew a rather descriptive picture of both your surroundings and your actions. Every so often you would reach over to shake Regulus’ shoulder as he hid his face behind his hands, laughing along with you and daring to interrupt if he felt you were overexaggerating some details or not painting him in a flattering enough light. 

What was likely a rather stressful and arduous journey across the Southern half of the country seemed to be nothing but a grand adventure as you retold your experience.

Sirius liked that about you; everything was an adventure with you. You never let Regulus or Sirius feel too poorly for themselves for too long, telling them it was going to be great for their character development.

“I think I’m rather well developed already, sweetheart.” He’d grumbled at you once. You laughed like he had something truly funny. 

And this was no different. From looking at Regulus, Sirius would never guess he’d just absconded from his volatile, abusive, and downright scary family; Regulus rather looked like he was retelling the happenings of a juvenile prank-filled slumber party (which Sirius would know a thing or two about). 

And he looked good. Not like Sirius looked when he first arrived at the Manor; bloodied, bruised, starved, and soaked to the bone. Regulus was healthy, vibrant, and bright. Hopeful. 

That’s the effect you had on people; you filled them with hope. Hope that it would be okay, hope that it would be better, hope that one day you might actually deserve the things you so desperately craved.

You had certainly done that for Sirius.

And looking at how good Regulus appeared, he couldn’t deny the same of you.

You were bright, animated, overflowing with a crackling energy and excitement that might even rival James’.

Sirius realised then that you were everything Sirius ever hoped to be.

Bold, assured, daring, caring, vivacious, kind, and so full of love.

And it seemed to him that the way the firelight was currently reflecting off of your face, as if the fire was somehow brighter from just simply being within your proximity, that you were far more beautiful than Sirius remembered you.

He hadn’t realised he’d been remembering you.

He had missed you; quite terribly, at that.

He missed your reassuring words, he missed your soft gazes, he missed your gentle hugs, and he missed the way that just knowing you were within his vicinity eased a ball of tension he hadn’t even realised resided deep within him. 

And he missed getting to see you; like this most of all.

Lovely, happy, carefree, and beautiful.

He wondered how he’d gone so long without it.

Was a little over a month considered long? He supposed it didn’t much matter, seeing as it certainly felt that way.

Too long.

Sirius never wanted to go that long without you again. You were too important to him, too precious, too sacred, too-

Oh.

Oh. 

Oh.

Sirius Black was bloody in love. With you.

Sirius Black was in love with you.

What likely should have sent Sirius spiralling (and certainly would have a little over a month ago) did nothing but cause him to smile softly as you let out a rather boisterous laugh that sounded like a symphony to Sirius’ ears.

And so, it should be commemorated for future generations to come:

Here sat Sirius Black… having his cake and eating it too.

[wandascrush]

Let the light in

Summary: The Avengers are separated after being hunted down and forced to live life on the low, causing a painful break up with the love of your life. What happens when she finds you again? Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

A/N: Based off of this request

Warnings: Angst, violence, loneliness, blood, breakup, team separated, depression, kissing, comfort

Song: Let the light in- Lana Del Rey

The team sat around the dark living room, the familiar voice of one of New York's most famous news anchors echoing in through the air, “Good evening New Yorkers, today we open our headline with some shocking news:  Former Stark enterprise building, located on the upper east side, exploded earlier today by a missile attack on the Avengers. Sources say Tony Stark was currently using it to house new plans for an updated Avengers training arena and larger compound.  Two architects, three investors, and one security manager was injured. Two of the victims later succumbed to their injuries after the explosion. Reports confirming the source of the violence are still unknown, however the Avengers were believed to have been inside the building at the time- hence the attack. The founding members of the Avengers Initiative such as Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Thor Odinson, Y/N L/N, and Clint Barton have yet to speak out. This marks the second targeted attack on our world’s heroes in nearly a month since the Maximoff twins incident in Barbados, where Pietro Maximoff was nearly assassinated. It raises the question for us all: Are our heroes being hunted?” 

The screen went black, bye bye news lady. The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. “What’re we gonna do Tony?” You got no answer. 

 “Cap?”  

For the first time in the decade you’d known the team, (except for the Maximoffs & Peter) you saw uncertainty in all of their eyes. Tony threw his classic sunglasses on the couch, squeezing the middle of his nose in a useless attempt to massage an oncoming headache away, “Fury… thought it’d be wise if we split up for awhile-,” he was quickly shut up with protests from the group.

“It’s too dangerous. This isn't easy for me, but we're facing a threat that's beyond anything we've encountered before. I've crunched the numbers, run simulations – the Avengers need to disband temporarily. We scatter, go off the grid, and regroup when the dust settles.”

“This is bullshit, Tony. You know it is. This is exactly what they want-” 

“Tasha,” your gentle touch on her back always softened her heart, but not today. She didn’t even look at you. 

“It’s not the end, Nat. It’s like a strategic retreat. We're ensuring we'll live to fight another day. For once, I’m with Stark on this. We play it safe, keep low profiles, and spread out,” Steve sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and taking a hard look at everyone, “we’re family, we keep each other safe. And this is how we do it.” 

As much as the idea made your stomach churn, he was right. He always was. This was your family. Every holiday, happy memory, laugh and cry and battle and bruise was all with them. This team is how you met the love of your life. You loved each other, and if this is what needed to happen, then you’d do it. 

But that didn’t sit well with your girlfriend. 

“No, end of story. We’re not separating.”

“You know I don’t think it’s just you’re choice, Natasha. I mean we have to decide this together,” your fingers lightly brushed the edge of the bed, nervously playing with the soft sheets you had just bought.

“Exactly, and I. Said. No.” She was acting like a stubborn toddler that didn’t want to eat her veggies, crossing her arms and raising her voice an octave.

It was then when you saw something different in her eyes, those beautiful green orbs that held so much sadness and joy at the same time. But today they were cloudy, like a storm was brewing in her mind. You gently slipped off of the bed and stood in front of her, pressing your forehead to hers, “You know it’s going to be okay, right?” soft palms caressed the side of her cheek, immediately feeling her sigh into your touch. “It’s going to be okay, you’ll see.” You wish your words were true. 

    Two months later the Avengers were spreading out all across the U.S., saying choked up goodbyes and packing your things. It was agreed upon that there’d be a team meeting once a month, every month, for the next year until you could figure out who the threat was, and how to eliminate them. You thought San Francisco sounded nice, fresh, and a little more peaceful than the hustle and bustle of New York. And it was, for a time. You got a haircut, dyed your gorgeous h/c locks to a rich h/c shade. You bought a sweet little home with a bay window over looking the Golden Gate Bridge, started building an in home gym and library, and kept an extremely low profile. You finished file work and other Avengers paperwork at home, with a high security grade laptop. Natasha on the other hand, refused to dye her hair, or keep a low profile. She didn’t want to admit that she was depressed, but it was glaringly oblivious. Being thrown out of her comforting routine put a wrench in Natasha’s life that not even you, her beautiful girl, could fix. All day she would do her paperwork, workout, and just keep to herself. It was like you weren’t even girlfriends anymore. Finally, in the fifth month of living “undercover,” she finally agreed to go on a low key date with you to a small, cozy bar on the outskirts of the city. You got dressed up for the first time in what felt like forever, did your makeup real pretty, and even did braids on Natasha’s silky hair. She looked happy, finally. Adorning a brown leather jacket, dark blue jeans, and a low cut green top- her classic silver arrow necklace sitting pretty on her chest- your girlfriend looked like her old self again...absolutely perfect. 

“You look gorgeous, baby,” swift arms swept you into a gentle kiss, smirking against your lips and pulling you close to her waist. 

You thought that night would be perfect, but by 11 pm you two were home and icing her bloody knuckles, static tv voices echoing in the background. You felt hot tears rising to the surface, but you never let them fall. It’s not like you were just mad or angry or disappointed…no this was something more. You were embarrassed. Embarrassed by Natasha. You thought you’d never say that sentence, but then there you were, apologizing to the bartender for your girlfriend's rowdy behavior, and throwing $20 to the guy she completely knocked out before nearly carrying her out of the bar and into a cab. Within the next two weeks she packed her bags, and your home was changing once again, now empty. 

  8 months later 

    The team said that you’d only be separated for a year, or less, but you were coming up on a year pretty soon and none of you were any closer to figuring out who the threat is. But you, you moved on, strived forward, and kept going. Your breakup with Nat had been one of the most painful moments of your life, but you didn’t let it stop you. These days you hardly cried over her at all, never even thought of the old days. Well, except for last Tuesday, when you saw one of her old sweaters and lied in bed for the rest of the day, or on Thursday when you heard her favorite song and- well, never mind that. You were at the top of your fucking game. 

  Ms. Romanoff, on the other hand, had moved out of San Francisco completely and settled in Washington D.C. from the last you heard. She attended the monthly zooms, same as you, but you two never addressed one another. Natasha pushed all of the heartbreak she harbored deep, deep down until she would lie down for bed and reach out next to her…but you were never there. 

[snapscube]

hi penny! im sure im not the first person to ask this, but- is there a reason the psychonauts dub didnt pan out? super excited for the kingdom hearts dub!! just curious as to why that particular dub idea wasn't seen through?

it was a few reasons! i honestly just lost a lot of steam for it once i started recording the footage. if i had to guess it was a combination of life circumstances not really being Ideal for me at the time, but also the more obvious setback is just that.... the game doesn't really NEED the fandub treatment??? at all?

not to say that any game ever "NEEDS" our stupid bits layered on top of it in the most literal sense, but there are certain dynamics when it comes to picking a game for the format that i have to take into account. what's the tone of the original work, what is the dialogue pacing like, how story heavy is it even to begin with, etc. Psychonauts has the disadvantage (specifically for dubbing purposes) of being a game that already feels almost like a parody of itself. it's EXTREMELY funny just on its own. RTF as a format, i think, is most effective when the source material's original tone and dramatic weight is juxtaposed with improvisational humor in SOME way. Sonic games have a heightened otherwordly shonen vibe that becomes uncannily hilarious when paired with the inherent candidness of improv. Until Dawn and RE2 are dark, atmospheric horror titles that pair well with improv purely through the GULF in tonal dissonance being inherently funny. Spider-Man is a superhero blockbuster story, and RTF lessens the scope EXCEEDINGLY in incredibly dumb and endearing ways (instead of peter needing an anti-serum to cure a deadly plague ravaging the city, he needs it to keep himself from turning into a table). And so on and so forth.

I basically just ended up feeling like there's really not much we could do to bring value to the project of a Psychonauts dub that wouldn't be energy better spent on games that were a better fit overall. Cause, yknow, at the end of the day these already take SO long to come out. I really gotta be economical with the game choices nowadays.

[thechekhov]

Hello! I'm a big fan of your work. I wanted to ask for advice / thoughts about an art problem I've been struggling with that you seem to have at least some sort of solution for?

So basically I'm an animator and digital artist (hobbyist), and I'm constantly coming up with new ideas for things to make. Only problem is that most of these ideas would take up to or longer than 2 months to make because, yknow, animation isn't quick, especially if you want to take your time to make it good. But with so many ideas that all take so long to complete, I often find myself tied and frozen as I can't decide what's most worthwhile to start first. I passionately want to complete all these projects, but my inspiration for each one waxes and wanes in a way I can't control, and I've just been stuck for several months. You juggle a lot of projects- not all of them art, but it still seems applicable here. This is excluding other life responsibilities like work and stuff, I don't have problems with getting that stuff done. This is purely within my creative hobby.

If u can't say anything thats fine I'm just curious- You have a massive output with great quality. Thank you!

This is a very kind message, and one that humbles me a lot, because although I'd love to bestow upon you some sort of advice that might help, or give words of wisdom..............I feel like that would be fake of me because

I also suffer from this very same thing

That is to say, this part of your message:

my inspiration for each one waxes and wanes in a way I can't control

It rings true for me too! I think it might ring true for many others as well.

There are stories in my head all the time. There are stories, and concepts, and IDEAS and they are all so shiny and new in the beginning, and then they slowly peter out and, since I frequently don't have time to do anything about them, they fade into the background.

I have enough trouble with this in terms of COMICS (also a lengthy medium, though less so than animation, which, OOF, you have my condolences, you are stronger than I) that I have started to just come to terms with the fact that some things are not meant to be.

Which is, I think, one of the small bits of advice I can give.

1. Some things may just be ideas, and that's okay.

I think one of the best ways that I've learned to deal with Idea-Death is making it count towards something in the future. That is to say, using them as compost.

In order for this to work, you have to actively put your ideas into the compost pin instead of the trash. That means maybe investing in either a notebook, or a sketchbook, OR just a discord server for yourself where you organize ideas and dump them all into a channel to scroll back through later.

It may seem useless at first, but honestly, it can be satisfying to PUT them somewhere instead of letting them fade away.

Plus, you may one day scroll through them and rediscover an idea at just the right time. OR you may be inspired to take parts of an old idea and repurpose it for a new idea that you DO have motivation for.

However, there's also this part, right?

I've just been stuck for several months

I.......feel this. Sometimes I, too, feel stuck for several months. There are times when even if I WANT to work on something, I just don't have the time. It takes too long to finish!

.........which is why I recommend the following:

2. Don't finish. Just start.

Now, this is the toughie. I can't exactly say that it would work for everyone. But I have learned that I am WAY more likely to return to a project and work on it again sometime in the future if I actually DO something for it the first time I get inspired.

I have SO MANY things that I have not published in my folders. I have sketches of gifs that are 10 frames long. I have concept art sketches boldly labeled with project names that will likely never get off the ground. I have Googledoc files with summary and plot outlines for stories I'll probably never write. I have discord channels with random ass concepts and a few sketches for characters.

And what I have found is that if I just WORK on these ideas when I feel like it, they are more likely to survive, even if they don't thrive right away.

I'm also a huge proponent of Procrastination Rotation.

That is to say, I have so many projects I COULD be working on, that if I ever feel frustrated or stuck on one thing, I just shift myself slightly to the left and do another thing instead. I almost never force myself to work through a block (save for a few money-motivated deadlines) just to complete a thing.

Stuck on a comic? I'll go write a few lines of fic. Unsatisfied with where the fic is going?

I'll go sketch out an illustration. Incapable of finishing an illustration?

I'll go google some references for another comic project and slap them all into an image file for later, so that I have SOMETHING in place for when I want to do studies.

And so on and so forth.

I have comic ideas, and comic sketches, and 30+ pages of original comics sketched. I don't know if they'll make it. It would take a lot of work.

But it also takes very little work - just a few extra pages sketched while I'm bored for an hour. Or a bit of lineart while I listen to a podcast. Or just a doodle somewhere which I snap a pic of and add to my discord channel for that project.

Will it work for everyone? Probably not. But I think that our creative culture is sometimes too attached to a linear production style. The truth is that art, or illustrations, or animation, or comics - none of it has to be on an assembly line. It can be tinkered with and put aside. And then, maybe, picked apart for scraps.........or maybe made into something new!

I don't know if that helps you at all, but I hope it at least helps someone.

And good luck with your animating!

[realtalkswithfinn]

Christmas at the Compound

Avengers x reader

Summary: Avengers x reader Christmas head cannons because I am a sucker for the found family trope.

a/n: I tried to get this up before christmas but totally spaced it, so… tale it as a christmas morning gift! I tried to make it as age neutral as possible, so it could totally be teen!reader or not.

The holidays are a tough time for the Avengers.

Most of them have lost family members or friends, and the idea of celebrating anything is extremely difficult.

Tony especially - he always gets gloomy around the Holidays.

He always says something along the lines of, "I don't actually care about this, but its social convention."

But secretly he cares a lot.

He overcompensates for his lack of affection throughout the year by buying everyone the expensive gifts he knows they want but could never justify spending on themselves.

At surface level, it just seems like “oh rich guy is spending rich guy money”

But they’re actually really thoughtful gifts

Like last year, he got Peter a new laptop for school.

He bought Bucky new and thick clothes since all of his were old and worn.

He upgraded Clints cellular data so he could talk to his family anywhere.

Things like that.

Sam and Rhodey take one for the team and string the christmas lights on the tower

“It’s too cold for this.” Sam would complain, the sharp wind nipping at his cheeks as he flew from one end of the building to the other, lights in tow.

“Come one man, where’s your christmas spirit?” Rhodey would laugh

“I’m just doing this so stark’s power bill goes up.”

it really was worth it seeing the tower lit up top to bottom though

Wanda LIVES for commercialized American Christmas

"We have to make gingerbread houses and go to Rockefeller to see the Christmas tree and we have to go out to the snow and go sledding-"

She demands family Christmas photos be taken, even though you don't really have anyone to send them to.

This years theme was christmas pjs

Which lead to a few very interesting viral videos of the avengers in an Old Navy

“Tony come on the reindeer ones are cute!”

“Bruce. A man can not hold onto his masculinity while wearing pjs with dancing reindeer.”

Natasha gets tired of the bellyaching and bickering and makes the final decision

She grabs everyone’s size in the Reindeer pjs and marches to the front of the store

After snagging Tony’s credit card, of course.

Actually taking the picture is a whole other ball game, but that’s a story for another day

Thor has a hard time with the idea of Santa

You try to explain it to him, but it doesn’t seem to help

“So a fat man breaks into the safety of your home late into the night… and you let it happen because he comes baring gifts?”

“Well… yeah.”

“But only to nice children. That he stalks throughout the year.”

“He doesn’t stalk the children he just…”

“Hm.” He squints. “what about the naughty children?”

“They don’t get any presents.”

“OR,” Wanda interjects, “Krampus comes to get them.”

“Is that another fat man in a red disguise?”

“No. He’s a demon sent from hell to eat them.”

Thor nods in approval. “Ah. That’s much more asgardian. A fair reward system for the youth!”

You stare at him. “So… you’re okay with Krampus but not Santa?”

“Well I think they work together well, like a team. Like us!”

“I… I guess…”

Decorating the tree was an all night event

You would help happy bring up what felt like hundreds of boxes of christmas decorations

The tree itself was about 15 feet tall, because it wouldn’t be a holiday at the compound if you guys weren’t extra

It was placed in the living space, right next to a huge wall of windows so all of New York could see your festivity

it had to be decorated to the nines to pass Wanda’s inspection

Not a bare branch

Theres tinsel, ribbons, colorful lights, and hundreds of ornaments

But of course, ladders were a no go

You guys liked a challenge

To reach the higher branches, you and Natasha would stand on Steve and Buckys shoulders

And I mean stand

Not sit

It was a thrilling balancing game

You trusted them to catch you if you fell, but you still had to try to avoid it at all costs to save the tree from certain destruction

Peter would dangle from the ceiling, crawling around to hang ornaments toward the very top

Both of these acts nearly gave Bruce and Vision a heart attack

“CAP, you’re moving to fast shes gunna lose balance-“

“Bruce, please take a breath.”

Meanwhile Thor is getting distracted by all the ornaments and forgetting to actually hang them up

“This one’s a little man of snow! How silly!”

Speaking of ornaments

You all have an ornament of yourself on the tree

Or, your super hero alias at least

There’s a tiny black widow, a little iron man, a bity baby hulk, so on and so forth

Tony always demands his be the highest up on the tree to fuel his god complex

Drawing names out of a hat to see who got to put the star on top of the tree

(except you guys would always rig it behind Wanda’s back, only putting her name in the hat)

She would always protest, insisting to let someone else do it this year, but you guys never relented

So with a big cheesy grin on her face, she would use her magic to delicately place the star on the tippy top

You would think Natasha wouldn’t want to see the Nutcracker Ballet after her time in the red room

But it makes her so happy to see dancing as an art form instead of a way to brainwash young girls

She drags you, Clint, Wanda, and whoever else wants to tag along every year

She even splurges on front row seats

You look over and see her eyes glittering while she watches every turn, leap, and stunt intently

Leaving the theater, she’ll walk on her toes and do a few turns, encouraging you to try as well.

She ends up cackling watching you trip and stumble

“We’ll work on it.”

Can you IMAGINE the ginger bread making contest???

You’re all huddled around the long dining room table with christmas music playing

Theres Clint and Natasha, who just make the classic gingerbread house, no fancy bells or whistles.

Then there’s Bruce,Tony, and Peter who are going absolutely wild building gingerbread sky scrapers and gingerbread hotels.

“Mr. Stark look, I made a working elevator!”

Bruce puts an electric system (fairy lights) through his

Steve and Bucky rebuild their childhood homes

Wanda is going all out, delicately hand placing every candy and covering the whole thing in edible glitter

Visions is pretty similar, but more sleek and modern than Wanda’s

And then there’s Thor, who’s totally missing the point and just DUMPING everything on top

“Hey Peter, I think yours is missing something.”

You string a long thread of white rope candy from his structure to yours.

“Webs!”

“You know… we can probably make a web-like consistency with some starch and frosting…”

That becomes a whole sticky project, but you eventually get it to work, connecting everyone’s gingerbread houses with icing webs

Steve and Bucky are TOTALLY participating in the classic christmas traditions they grew up on.

They sit quietly together in the living room, making paper chains and stringing popcorn

“Do you mind if I join you guys?”

they smile gently. “Of course not.”

You sit crisscross in front of the couch while they teach you

They tell you stories of christmases long, long ago, which feels kinda silly considering they’re talking like grandpas while not appearing much older than you

On Christmas eve, you’re all there except for Clint, who went home to his family

Youre all dressed in your pajamas from the christmas card

You make hot coco and cider

Wanda pops in some old vhs tapes and you watch the classics late into the night

“Alright you nutcrackers,” tony would say around midnight. “I know you want to stay up and catch Santa, but he’s not coming if you all stay awake.”

he really just wanted to go to bed

He sauntered off, calling for lights out.

Most of the boys wandered away to their rooms, leaving you, Wanda, Nat and Thor not quite ready for sleep.

“So,” you ask, taking a sip of coco, “Do you guys think we’re on the naughty list?”

Natasha Chuckled. “I’m not sure. Does beating people up count as naughty if you’re taking down the bad guys?”

Thor set his mug down on the coffee table, the bells on his sweater jingling. “Do not fear ladies, I will catch that nasty Krampus if he comes in to devour your soul. I believe you were doing the right thing.”

You all laughed, thinking he was joking. But he just stared at you.

“Thor… you realize Krampus and Santa aren’t… real?” Wanda asked.

He had a hard time swallowing that.

He ended up sleeping on the couch “just in case”

you woke up at 3 am to a loud clattering coming from the living room

You decided to check it out against your better judgement

There was Thor. Hammer in one hand, cookie in another.

Down the hall toward the elevator was a completely destroyed life-size nutcracker.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I thought I heard something by the elevator.”

“Congratulations. You murdered the Nutcracker.”

“I feared he was an accomplice of the holiday demon.”

“He’s been there for weeks!”

“He could have been a spy. Or possessed.”

“Goodnight Thor.”

Christmas Morning finally arrived

Everyone was sleeping soundly in their beds

Until Sam decided to be a little shit and wake everyone up at 7 am

He pounded on every. single. bedroom door.

“Y/NNNN. SANTA CAME TO TOWNNNNN.” he sing-songed

“No he didn’t.” You grumbled. “Thor killed him.”

“… I don’t know what that means.”

You all stumble out into the living room

Natasha took the time to actually run a brush through her hair and do her morning skincare

You and wanda were far too excited and skipped over that completely, barely remembering to brush your teeth

Tony looked the roughest - he had a silk robe draped over his pjs and looked like he was just awakened from a coma

Essentially, everyone was a little disheveled

Vision made everyone coffee before you started the gift exchange

You all sat around the coffee table in a circle so everyone could see each other

Bruce and Steve passed out the gifts from under the tree

it took a solid few minutes, there was a MOUNTAIN of presents

You went one at a time opening gifts

Some people think this is awkward, but you felt it was more genuine

this way, everyone can see the gift and the joy on the receivers face

as well as a million “thank you”s

It also gave time for the giver to explain why they chose the gift they did, whether it be something they remembered you said you wanted, something they knew you needed, or even just a simple “this made me think of you”

In the end, you loved all your gifts

And everyone loved what you got for them

But mostly, you were just happy to spend the holiday with your family

[kitkathockey]

Prettiest girl at Hogwarts

Pairings: Remus Lupin x reader (they are already together)

Summary: Remus is answering some of the first years questions and one of them asks who is the prettiest girl at Hogwarts.

Notes: This is my first story, I probably won’t upload again for like along time, I only wrote this because I had this idea in my head. And I really wanted to read it! So I wrote it, and maybe someone else will enjoy it? I’m not experienced in this at all but if you guys like this, maybe I’ll right more? Probably not but anyway… enjoy!

*Also I am okay with my work being published elsewhere AS LONG AS I am credited/mentioned in it, thanks!*

…………………………………………………………………………

Remus Lupin is a prefect, and this year he was going to lead the first years. Once the sorting ceremony was over, he quickly ushered the 11 year olds over towards him.

The first years always had a lot of questions, always spitting them out whenever one occupies there mind. And remus got used to that quickly as he was answering questions the entire walk to the common room. Once they arrived, remus turned around to finish up the talk.

James, Sirius and Peter had already rushed off somewhere, most likely the kitchens, and will probably meet him back at their dorm. It was already late when they walked in but most students haven’t returned to their own dorms yet, spending a little time in the common room before they head to sleep. Y/n was sitting next to Lily, listening as she blabbered on about her holiday to Europe.

“Boys dorms are up the stairs to your left,” Remus gestured with his left arm, “girls, same on your right. Now are there any other questions before I send you all off.”

“What year are you in?” One of the boys asked him, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Remus gently smiled at the boy, running one hand through his fluffy hair “6th year”.

“Is it true that Sir Nicholas the ghost can take off most of his head?” Asked an excited girl, beaming slightly.

He chuckled slightly, nodding his head. “That is true but it’s not a very pleasant sight.”

“Who’s the prettiest girl at Hogwarts?” Questioned a little, blonde girl as her friend giggles slightly.

Remus shook his head with a little laugh, tilting his head slightly to the side to glance at Y/n.

“You see that girl over there?” He pointed to her and watched as the first years nod excitedly. “I think she’s very beautiful, the prettiest girl at Hogwarts.”

The 11 year olds giggled as they looked at the pretty girl and the two girls who asked the question jumped up and down clapping.

“What’s her name! What’s her name?” They asked as Remus placed both his hands on his hips with a smirk.

“Y/n” he answered.

The two girls were quick to rush over towards Y/n causing Remus’ eyes widen a bit before he just shook his head with a dorky smile.

“Um, excuse me” one of the girls tapped Y/n on the shoulder. She turned around to smile at the young girl. “You’re Y/n right?”

“That’s me.” Y/n smiled, turning her head to glance at Lily. Lily just shrugged and they both retuned their gazes to the two younger ones.

“That boy over there called you pretty!” The young girl with blonde hair giggled, pointing at Remus.

“He said you were the prettiest girl at Hogwarts!” The other one stated.

Y/n smirked, glancing quickly at her boyfriend Remus, watching him just shrug and smile in reply.

“Well that’s very kind of him,” She told the two girls, winking at them.

“Do you think he’s the prettiest boy at Hogwarts?” The blonde asked back quickly.

Y/n could feel her heart flutter slightly, as she nodded her head. “Oh definitely, he’s the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

The girls quickly jumped and waved their goodbye before returning to the group of first years, explaining to them what they just heard. As Remus listened, he couldn’t help but lightly chuckle as his cheeks turned a slight pink colour.

…………………………………………………………………………

“What was all that about?” Y/n smiled as she rested on Remus’ bed, waiting for him to join her.

He just shook his head with a smirk, “they asked me a question and I answered it.”

Y/n blushed as Remus walked over to her, laying down and pulling her into his arms, hugging tightly.

“I love you,” Y/n said, her head dropped on his chest.

“I love you so much more” Remus replied.

[bluesidez]

Gym Rat Miguel Part 12

content warning: Miguel is very dramatic in this one, mentions of food

word count: 4k (SHOUTOUT TO MY BETA!! @slushycoookie 🩵)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

DISCLAIMER: This story is not canonical. 😒 Most, if not all, of the characters used are OOC. I literally can not stress this enough.

GymRat!Miguel who tries not to dwell on the fact that it’s been just about a month since he’s seen you. It’s the middle of the week and if he thinks about it too much, he’s going to go crazy.

It feels odd because you’re on the same campus as him. You’re not across the country. You’re not out of the country. You’re literally a short walk or drive away and neither of you have time to see each other.

He’s considering printing your pictures out and walking around with them like a forlorn lover looking for his lost soulmate. It feels like he’s back in his bedroom staring at your pictures for hours like a man at war aching for home.

He’s exhausted all of his options.

The couple-lunches have all been rain-checked, the weight of your workload trapping you in the Art building.

Your sleep schedule was terrible, if the late night TikToks and reels were anything to go by. He knew you had morning classes too so he could only assume you’ve had a few hours of sleep during the weeknights.

The weekends were for rest and he didn’t want to disrupt yours.

Your dorm tracked visitors which means he’d only have a few hours with you before curfew if you were even there.

GymRat!Miguel who misses you so bad he’s temporarily replaced his gym playlist for the one you gifted him.

His face is set hard, feet heavy as he sprints over a curved treadmill. After a few minutes he stops, takes a small break, and runs again.

Even the melodic and somber voice playing over a groovy piano couldn’t soothe his thoughts.

His heart rammed in his chest as sweat trickled down his face, his tank drenched and clinging to his chest.

Just a few more sprints to go.

GymRat!Miguel who slides the ear of his headphone off because Xina is standing in front of him, blocking his path.

“Anymore sprints and you’re going to pass out,” she hands him a towel.

“Maybe I want to,” Miguel grumbles, nabbing the towel and rubbing his face like someone spit on it.

Xina grabbed her ponytail and pinned it up, loose hair sticking to her neck. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny. I can only manage pulling your body to the entrance to the gym.”

Miguel snorted.

GymRat!Miguel who fills up the time that he used to spend with you to get to know his friends and meet others.

This meant having game nights with Peter and Ben. They were so close, not really, to convincing him to join their DND parties.

If he wasn’t with them, he was occasionally calling The Geek Squad and catching up. A Friendsgiving date was now tentatively on his calendar because of it.

Of course, his robotics team was still going steady. Aaron was interesting, if nothing else, and Margo was like the little sister he never had.

Then, there was checking up on Gabriel like a Tamagotchi. Was he eating ok? Did he need some money? Is he trapped in the subway? Did a rat eat him?

Gabriel had sent him a screenshot of his contact with his name being changed to “Mom #2.”

Miguel only scoffed and told Gabriel his name was going to get changed to “pain in my ass.”

The newest development, however, was Xina. Her transferring here felt like middle school when they used to be attached at the hip.

They had their programming class together two days out of the week, biweekly study sessions, and the occasional late night excursion.

It also explains why she’s eyeing him from the stairmaster while he heaves over the handles of the treadmill.

GymRat!Miguel who thanked Xina as she handed him his jug of water. He sat up from the bench to let her take a seat.

“So,” she started.

“I’m not helping you hack your professor’s dashboard. While you could do it, it’s not a good idea and quantum physics isn’t that-“

“It’s not that, you dick,” Xina pinched his side. “It’s you. What’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up with me.”

“Miguel.”

“Xina.”

“Now, you’re being a brat. Something is definitely wrong.”

Miguel picked at the peeling Game Over sticker on his bottle. He needed to tape it down or he’d lose it.

“I miss her.”

“Miss who? Your mom?”

“What? No. I miss my girlfriend.”

It was quiet between them, the sound of chatter and the clanking of equipment filled the white noise.

Xina tilted her head, “That bad?”

Miguel nods.

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

He takes a dramatic breath, “Our anniversary date. Last month. I feel…”

“Like you can’t function? Like it’s hard to think?”

“Is that pathetic?” Miguel winces. “I have a feeling you’re going to say that it is.”

“No, I don’t think that.”

Miguel pouts as he looks up. Xina shrugs and slides her hands on down her leggings.

“Remember the times I went boy crazy? All the times I came crying to you after they screwed me over, even when you already warned me they weren’t good guys? I think you deserve to be crazy about your girlfriend.”

“Thanks,” Miguel blinked. “You were way too nice to those first guys.”

“I learned though, didn’t I? I know a good guy when I see him, now,” Xina pushed at Miguel’s shoulders with hers.

“And now those self-defense lessons won’t go to waste, right?”

Xina snorted as she recalled the time she managed to flip Winston on his back at Miguel’s instruction.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Xina’s eyes grow in shock when he tells her how long he’s been dating you.

“Dang,” Xina stops in her tracks. “A year?”

Miguel puffs up his chest and stands a little straighter, a confident stride in his step, “One year and counting.”

“That’s,” Xina turns and waits for a car to go by. She readjusts her gym bag. “That’s awesome, Hare-Hare.”

GymRat!Miguel who feels the mood shift by the time he drops Xina back off. He’s not sure what’s brought it up, but now he’s nervous about upsetting her more.

He taps on the wheel, after he pulls into a park.

“You sure you don’t want me to get you anything? You don’t need to go anywhere?”

Xina unbuckles her seatbelt, “Nope. All good. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he watches her close the door before he can even finish. “See you.”

GymRat!Miguel who obliges when Xina texts him the next day to switch up their study session location.

Miguel wanted to keep the busy calm of the 1st floor of the library but Xina insisted on giving him a change of scenery.

“It’s good for you! You stare at the screen all day when you’re coding,” Xina slams Miguel’s car door to which he sneer at her for. “You need to look up and smell the coffee sometimes.”

“You just want a reason to not do your work.”

Xina turns around and walks backwards in front of Miguel, “And that’s completely fine. We should live a little.”

She trips over the edge of the sidewalk with a yelp and Miguel is quick to catch her, the panic on his face evident.

“See,” she grins as she pulls herself up by Miguel’s shoulders. “Living!”

GymRat!Miguel who lets Xina order for him while he finds a table.

The cafe was bright, white wood accenting the walls with vines and plants adorning the area. Salmon pink brought a pop of color to the sandy-looking tables and fairy lights hung in the corners of the room.

Miguel’s eyes grew as he saw the variety of desserts on display, his mouth itching to take a bite.

“No, no, no. Go away. I’ll pick something you’ll like,” Xina blocks Miguel’s lingering eyes.

Miguel clicks his teeth, “If it’s not good, I’m going to be really upset.”

“I doubt it.”

GymRat!Miguel who walks deeper into the cafe. He’s dodging ceiling plants left and right, but he’s sure that the best seats are in the furthest of the building.

He shuffles around a corner, eyes adjusting to the sun coming through window.

He blinks a few times and takes in the spacious area.

That’s when he sees you.

He walks fast, the strides of his steps wide.

The closer he gets, the stronger the smell of peaches builds. The sun was shining down like it granted Miguel one the greatest gifts of his life. Its rays danced across the spot that you're in.

He gets to your chair and pulled it out with ease, the sound disrupting the hushed corner.

A pen falls to the floor, voices are cut short, and arms are flailing but Miguel’s nose is buried deep into your neck.

Your arms tighten around his neck and your voice skips across his ears.

“I-” a kiss across your face, “missed you so much.” Miguel looks at you like you hold the stars in the sky within your palm.

“You scared the shit out of me, Miguel,” you say with no really malice in your voice. Your thumbs run across his cheeks, watching as he beams at you. You kiss him once or twice, heart fluttering as your feet dangle in the air.

“I hope there aren’t many people picking you up in the middle of establishments,” Miguel mumbled across your lips.

“Guys, there’s people staring at us,” a voice creeps in from the side of Miguel.

Miguel’s eyes follow it to see a deer-looking kid with hoodie pulled up over his ears.

“Who is this?”

GymRat!Miguel who is introduced to Miles, your freshman classmate that you’ve taken in.

He’s sitting across the table nodding along to you as you rave about Miles’ work. The entire time, his right hand didn’t leave your left one.

“So,” Miguel chimes in when there’s a pause. “Have you both been coming here a while?”

“Nah, I just dragged her out here recently. She never leaves the art building when a deadline is near. It’s kind of depressing-“

“You know, Miles.” You're holding back an eye roll. “There are times when you could just not talk.”

“No, actually tell me more,” Miguel insisted, attentive.

GymRat!Miguel who hurries to help a struggling Xina when she rounds the corner with a tray full of goodies.

A cinnamon roll, a lemon tart, a tall purple drink, and some warm tea is placed on the table while you and Miles clear the area.

You sit up straighter to watch Miguel pick up the tea cup and blow over it. “Tea? No milk with a pinch of coffee?”

“Amor…”

Xina looks over to his cup, “Did you want something else?”

“No, this is good, I haven’t had this in a while,” he takes a sip and hums while explaining to you. “I’ve been on this sweet drink kick since she let me try her frappe last year.”

“That’s rich because you always hated it when I got those.”

“To be fair, you downed like four of those in one day. I’m surprised your body didn’t go into shock.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Four in one day must have meant you were going through it.”

Xina smiles and nods her head, “Exactly. And I told him-”

“We’re not doing this,” Miguel grumbled and stabbed his fork into his roll. “Four was way too much and she was bouncing off the walls all day just to crash and throw up on my shoes.”

“I said I was sorry about that!”

GymRat!Miguel who cuts pieces of his dessert to feed to you. You look at him incredulously as he insists on giving you bite after bite.

“Is it good?” Miguel asks chewing his own piece. You nod and he grins, happy in the bubble he’s created.

When Xina reaches for his plate for a piece he slides it away with ease, a move he knows too well.

“Why can’t I have some? I bought it.”

“You didn’t even ask!”

“Neither did she!”

Miles leans over to you, “I feel like I’m watching a fight between me and my baby sister.”

Miguel is pushing Xina’s hands away from his plate while she laughs up a storm. You think that it does mirror something like Gabriel and Miguel’s relationship, but something about Miguel isn’t the same.

GymRat!Miguel who continues his Tom and Jerry act with Xina even when the food is gone.

They were bickering over some formula that you couldn’t begin to figure out by yourself. To Miguel, it’s easy. To Xina, the setup makes no sense.

“How did you survive Ivy League without me?” Miguel asks as he reaches over and erases an error on her page.

“Like I do anything else, with peace.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Miguel points his pencil at Xina, “you hate me and I am not needed for problems 4 through 10.”

“No!” she panics, pushing his pen back to the paper. “I need you to start this one. I don’t understand it.”

“We just did one like this, though. It’s just the imaginary number all over again.”

Xina groaned and slumped in her chair while Miguel just turned back to his on work.

GymRat!Miguel who peers up from his computer to watch you work. You eyebrows pinch as your wrist moves across the large sketchpad in front of you. Your hand is moving fast and you’re so focused. Miguel hasn’t seen you like this before. In your element.

He leans his head on his hand, cheek squished and staring at you like he’s never seen you, like you were something to be admired.

You were pretty today, a sweater with some cartoon on it and some jeans that flared out at the bottom. Your bunny necklace was dangling around your neck and your glasses were falling down your nose.

You push them back and a smudge of charcoal from moving Miles’ artwork gets on your cheek.

“Stare at her any harder and she might grow something freaky,” Miles whispers.

Miguel falters and grabs a napkin, leaning to wipe your cheek, “She has something on her face.”

GymRat!Miguel who tries to be even more discreet as he watches you fill up the page. It’s mesmerizing seeing what you come up with.

He’ll type a little bit then look at your sketches, he’ll click a few links then look at your face. Sometimes, you would catch him looking and smile at resulting in his heart picking up.

Occasionally, Miles would ask your opinion on something and you would give him pointers, the two of you discussing something about focal points and rule of threes.

Miguel just wanted to put his stuff up and listen to you all day.

“What are you working on?” Xina asks, her voice breaking the silence. She’s staring directly at your drawings, fingers tapping against her notebook.

You perk up and flip your pad around, “It’s some ideas for one of our bigger projects! The theme is reinventing a classic, so I’m thinking something like a spin on Lady Godiva with a haunted theme and darker palette. Or The Fallen Angel with a bird’s eye perspective of him on the ground.”

You took a breath and flipped the page, “And then there’s The Kiss which I wanted to actually do a glaze to really give it that ‘mosaic’ look.”

Miguel leaned in with Xina to take a closer look.

The sketch was exceptional to say the least. Miguel wasn’t too sure how the original painting looked, but your drawing detailed a woman wrapped in these angular, moving shapes. Her face was angled up and a far-off look adorned her features. To her right sat a man whose lips were on her neck and his attention solely on her.

It was soft, yet strong. How you managed to put so much intimacy onto a single page was beyond him.

The feeling of it was familiar and when he looked up at you, he knew.

Miguel opens his mouth, “It’s..”

“Boring.”

“Beautiful.”

He turns to Xina with a frown on his face as she flips back to the front page.

“I mean, I think one of the other two is better, you know? More of a twist on the originals. The last one feels safe.”

The table is quiet as Xina’s comment marinates. She’s flipping further into your book and Miguel promptly snatches it from her and closes it a bit harder than he needs to. Miles shifts in his seat, chewing on the straw of his drink.

“Can you explain why it feels safe to you?” your fingers pick at a nail.

She looks up, “Well, don’t you want to stand out? Out of the others, I don’t think this one is that unique.”

“The point isn’t to stand out,” Miles chimes in. “The assignment is about remixing a classic and all three of these do that pretty well.”

Your smile is small, “Thanks, Miles.”

“So which one do you think is better?” Xina asks.

“The last one,” both Miles and Miguel say.

“It carries the emotion of the original while also bringing more focus to couple rather than the abstracted cloth. You can see the love between them in a way that the original doesn’t have and it’s not even painted yet,” Miles talks with ease. “But! That’s just my opinion.”

“I think it’s powerful,” Miguel hums. “You should go with that one.”

You nod, thumbing over the corner of the pages.

GymRat!Miguel who watches Miles nearly fly out of the cafe.

Something about catching the bus to go see a friend perform.

“Poor thing,” you mumble. “He didn’t even buy the tickets yet.”

GymRat!Miguel who can almost see the stress coming off of you in waves the later it gets in the evening.

“Are you alright?” Miguel places his hand over yours.

“Yeah, I think I need a nap.”

“Need me to drive you back?”

“No, it’s fine. You need to drive Xina back.” You start to pack up. “I brought my car anyways.”

Miguel follows your movements, hands putting his laptop up as well.

He hurries to pull your chair out and you thank him with a quiet voice. He follows you from the table to the door to your car. The scene is almost comical the way he’s in your peripheral.

“Will I see you again soon?” Miguel leans on the hood of your car, body practically falling onto you in the driver’s seat. “We gotta set up a date.”

“I’ll see what I can do, baby,” you rub his face and kiss the kicked-puppy look off of his face. “I’ll text you once I get back.”

“Please.”

GymRat!Miguel who throws his backpack in the backseat and slumps over the wheel once he’s certain your car was down the road.

“What now?” Xina patted Miguel’s back. “You miss her again?”

Miguel just dug his head onto the horn, the effect alerting anyone within 50ft radius.

“Ok, ok,” Xina yanked him up by his shoulders only for him to drop back down again. She sighs and grabs the back of his head with a slight yank to his hair.

Miguel swats her hand away with a grit to his teeth and a pinch to his brows.

Xina only holds her hands up with a grin lining her lips, “Calm down.”

“You’re really annoying me today.”

Xina drops her hands and her smile falters. Miguel straightens up with an apology on the roof of his mouth before Xina picks back up with joy.

“What I think you need is an awesome rager for your birthday.”

“No.”

“Why not? It could be fun!”

“I’m all partied out until next year.”

“Not even with your friends? People from your department? A couple of classmates? The robo nerds?”

“That’s robo rockstars to you.”

Xina laughed and buckled her seatbelt.

“I think it could be great, seriously. We’re doing it.”

Miguel only groaned and turned on the ignition.

GymRat!Miguel who wanted to use his Sunday for relaxation, a cheat day, maybe a game or two with Gabriel, Peter, and Winston.

Instead, he’s lying on his bed listening to Xina rant about one of her roommates using the sink as a trash can.

“Like we have a ridiculously expensive trash can that’s less than a foot away from the sink. It’s a simple spin and drop.”

“Ok, I get this is really gross, but don’t you have other friends you could bother?”

Xina pauses, and points her finger at him, “Hey, I’m here to help you out. If I wasn’t here, who knows how down in the dumps you’d be.”

“This isn’t helping me.”

GymRat!Miguel who answers his phone while Xina has managed to pull Peter into a game of Overcooked on his Switch.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Miguel! How do I connect your father’s computer to the TV? He found a movie that we could watch but the screen is so small.”

“He found a movie but can’t connect cords?”

“Just answer the question, mijo.”

Miguel sits up, prepared to spend at least forty minutes trying to explain what an HDMI cord is.

“Yeah.”

Xina gasps, pauses the game leaving a displeased Peter, and hops into the corner of Miguel’s phone.

“Hi, Mrs. O’Hara!”

“Hola, mi dulce niña! Hace mucho que no te veo. ¿Que tal te ha ido?“ (Hello, my sweet girl! I haven’t seen you in a long time. How have you been?)

“Más o menos, pero me alegro de verte.” (So-so, but I’m happy to see you.)

“No, Xina! ¿Qué tienes?” (What’s wrong?)

Miguel just plopped the device in Xina’s hand, “I like how you both started a conversation on my phone.”

“We’ve got important things to discuss,” Xina waved him off while she and his mother continued to fawn over each other.

Miguel just slid off the bed and joined Peter.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t get his phone back until curfew hours are around the corner.

Xina and his mom discussed everything from reality TV to recipes to her time up north. Xina left happier than when she came in which Miguel didn’t mind. He just wished he could have had the room to himself.

GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t see your message until he’s about to go to sleep.

“Baby”

“Let’s do something together on your bday”

Miguel unpeeled his eyes and typed swiftly.

“YES”

“YEESSSS”

“Best birthday ever already”

“Someone’s excited”

“I haven’t even said what we’re doing yet”

“What are we doing”

“Tell me please”

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease”

“Mmm”

“No”

“It’s a secret 🙂‍↔️”

“I can wait”

“That you are”

“Sometimes”

“😗”

“But mi luz I think Xina is trying to plan something too”

“Oh”

“Should we raincheck then?”

“NOOOOOO!”

“I can do both”

“I’ll literally split myself in two”

“You don’t have to choose”

“My gift is small”

“I want you to have fun on your special day”

“Can you come to the party?”

“I don’t want to miss it but I’ll have to see”

“If anything it’ll be much later”

“As long as I get to see you I’ll be happy”

“Good night bebé”

“Night!”

"Love you"

“Love you more"

divider by: @plutism 🩵

a/n: I have no notes other than school is starting back up so my posting schedule will be even more irregular. 🤠 Please bear with me.

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[pjflmga]

chicago, alessia russo x reader

summary: story based on the song chicago by louis tomlinson. angst and no happy ending. stream chicago it’s banger🔥

a/n: english is not my first language and i’m dead tired + wrote it in the middle of the night, so sorry if the grammar and stuff is shit at times🥲 also it’s like my first fic writte so yea:o ig if you have an idea of a story or smth send them in :)

wc: 1,8k ish

enjoyy

——————————————————

alessia was sitting on the coach of her apartment in north london, as she scrolled through instagram… or stalking through your instagram to be precise. your last post being a picture of your now 18 month(🥲) old baby.

“my baby girl olivia is now 18 months old🥹❤️” the caption said.

a tear formed in her eye as she thought of the name. the name that her and you had come up with together, at the age of 13. the name she thought you would name you little baby together. the name that you now used for your own baby, without her.

————

alessia and you had been close friends since middle school, when you both were 9.

it had been a normal school day where alessia sat daydreaming about going professional in the thing she loved the most, football, when the blondes friend lisa came running towards her.

“lessi!!! giorgio and peter are at it again.” she said while breathing out.

“huh?” the young girl answered as her head jerked up.

“they got into some argument and it’s getting heated.” lisa answered as the two began running towards the fight. “i think you can talk him out of it.” she continued.

“GIORGIO!” she yelled.

“PETER!” someone else yelled at the same time.

alessia saw how her brother and the other boy looked towards her and the other voice quickly. at that time teachers had arrived as well and told the boys off. so instead of parenting her older brother, the blonde looked over to the other voice and caught your eyes, as you were looking at her with curiosity.

“wow” she thought to yourself “she has the coolest outfit ever” so like the 9- year old she was, she walked over to you and introduced herself. “hello, my name is alessia, but my friends call me less or lessi and i think your outfit is so cooll!“ she said.

“hi alessia, i’m y/n, my freinds call me y/n/n. ” you answered excitedly. “thank you, your eyes are so, so pretty.” you continued, entirely mesmerised by her blue eyes. “oh and that potato head over there, is my brother peter.”

“the boy who fought with your brother is my big brother gio. he usually is the best, we play football together all the time!” alessia laughed.

“no way? i love football too!” you screamed excitedly. “would you like to play with me sometime?”

and just like that a wonderful friendship blossomed out between alessia and you. years passed and the bond the blonde shared with you, only grew stronger. as the two of you turned 16 she realised she might be feeling something else than normal friendship for you. little did she know, you felt the same about her.

as the weeks past the two of you became a bit more and more bold and flirtier, and then all of a sudden you started dating. both of your families loved the other girl. even your big brothers had become friendly and only bantered up a little now and then, but more as a joke of course.

after a few months, on alessia’s 17th birthday, you officially asked the blonde to be your girlfriend. she answered more than happily with a “yes!”. the other present from you might have been even better though. it was your black nike hoodie, that smelled just like you.

both alessia and you loved football, but it was clear as a day who was actually going for it and who wasn’t, and had it more like a side hobby.

alessia was thriving and was currently playing for chelsea’s academy team as well as playing for england’s youth team. you were more than happy for her and watched as she smashed in goal after goal week in and week out.

alessia was so proud of you who were doing quite good as well, playing for the local team in kent. ruling the midfield and scoring some nice goals yourself. of course, when she didn’t have training or her own games, she was there to watch.

everything between the two of you was just perfect, you went to school, played football and had each other. and that weekly routine worked perfectly well for you.

but as they say, all good comes to an end.

the blonde striker and you had only one month left of school before graduating and you were buzzing. you had told your girlfriend that you weren’t too sure of what to do now. sure, you had applied for some courses at a university in london. but other than that your plan was to chill a bit, playing some football and so on. it was no real rush anyways.

alessia on the other hand, had big plans coming up. the striker had applied for different collages in the usa to be able to play football on a higher level, as well as studying. but these great plans of hers weren’t anything you were aware of.

so graduation came, you were celebrating with your friends from school, as well as had a graduation party with each other that your families had planned. everything was just perfect. a few days later alessia had to leave for camp, and that’s when she thought it was time to break the news to you.

“uh, y/n…” she started as she felt a big lump in her throat. “i uh- i, i have a applied for some collages in the usa for the upcoming years. and i uh, i got accepted for unc in north carolina.” she stuttered out nervously.

“oh.” was all you got out, as she saw tears threatening behind your eyes. “less that is great for you.” you forced out with a weak smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you sooner, i really am.” the blonde whispered out. “but i just, i just didn’t know how to tell you and then time passed and you kn-“

“i get it alessia.” you said bluntly. alessia frowned a bit at the usage of her full name, instead of one of a nickname she knew you had, on your never ending list.

“but i thought we could make it work anyways. i’d come back when i have breaks, and maybe you could do the same and we call and text each other all the time. i mean we can do that yeah?” she started to ramble.

“i… i have to go.” you said and left, slamming the door in her face a little too hard. with the sound of your steps leaving, alessia broke down on the floor and cried. this was not the way she had thought it’d be.

sad and slow alessia went to camp, as she put on a smile on her face. this time it didn’t quite reach her eyes though. when game day came around, the lionesses were playing in london. the blonde excitedly looked towards the small crowd to see if you were there, like you had planned. but to her disappointment, you weren’t. she saw her mom looking at her with sad smile, confirming what she feared.

after camp, alessia went straight to your house, only to be met by your mom, who didn’t look oh- so happy.

“please let me talk to her, i need to speak to y/n.” the blonde pleaded.

“alessia, she is broken, she doesn’t want to see you right now.” your mom answered with a stern face. “and you know why.” she added quickly.

of course alessia knew all this was her fault, but she also knew this was something she had to do for her career. so when august came around, she packed all her stuff and flew to her new home for the upcoming years.

the two of you hadn’t spoken since before her england camp, despite her texting and calling everyday, with no success of reaching you. as the blonde forward landed in north carolina, she sent yet another text message “i’m in the usa now. i miss you y/n, please call me<3 i know we can work this out”. to her big surprise you this time gave her a short reply “i miss you too, good luck with everything.”

maybe, just maybe this bitter end of yours, would turn around? maybe that could be the case for you two.

—————

the years past and alessia was now in back in england, more specifically in the red side of manchester. she had also gotten her first call up to national team. her time at collage had been an absolute blast, but not one day went without her thinking of you.

thanks to social media, she knew you lived in central london now. she knew you studied at queen mary university to become a journalist, a dream you had had as you grew older. and she knew you had a new life, that didn’t include her.

the years flew by and right out of nowhere alessia was the front face for the lionesses having won the euros, gotten a silver medal in the world cup and was now settled in north london. but still, not a day went by without her thinking of you. not a day went by without her wishing she could tell you about all her adventures and experiences she’d gotten the past years. not a day went by without her wishing to have you in her life. she wondered if you kept up with her life, what you would’ve said and if you were proud of her.

it had been a tough game for arsenal against their blue london rivals, chelsea. the blues had beaten the gooners with a comfortable 3-1 win at stamford bridge. despite the loss, she bid her thank yous to the fans, as well as signing some autographs and taking some photos. just as she was about to walk away into the dressing rooms, she spotted a face she would recognise anywhere. was it you? it couldn’t be? she blinked, and just like that you were gone.

as the striker got home she burst down in tears, putting on the hoodie you once gave her, thinking back to all the times you had been there and comforted her. especially after a loss. you always knew what to say and what to do, to make her feel better.

alessia replayed the day she told you about her heading off to collage over and over again, and thought once again, what she could’ve done differently. so the arsenal player grabbed her phone and typed in your contact, because of course she still had it saved with a red heart next to your name. but she quickly came to her senses and closed her phone. she couldn’t be that selfish.

she knew you were happy and had a baby. she knew that her name was olivia, just like the two of you had planned. what alessia didn’t know was whether after all these years, you had forgiven her or not. because believe her or not, even if it didn’t work out, the years you had together ever since you were 9 years old were the most meaningful and important to her.

but, maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

CW: incel-like behavior

WIBTA if I brought up a topic from our group chat to my therapist?

Important background: this story does not take place in the US and everyone (except my therapist) is autistic. Names are fake in case anyone from the story uses tumblr for some reason. English is not my first language.

Six years ago, my therapist convinced me to join a therapy group organised by her. The idea behind the group is to help autistic people like myself get better at social interactions, managing our emotions, things like that. It’s been quite fun, and I enjoy the monthly sessions.

My therapist encourages us to talk to each other and meet up in between and/or after sessions, so we have a group chat for that. In that group chat, we essentially talk about whatever we want without the fear of being judged. Last couple of days we had, let’s say, an unfortunate conversation.

One of the members (Peter, 20sM) went on a rant about a girl who rejected him in favor of some ugly guy (we never got to see pictures of said guy) and that he felt “betrayed” and began believing he won’t “find any woman who will love him”. Some of us consoled him, saying that it sucks but he should focus on other things he enjoys to cope/move on. Another member (John, 19M), however, gave him “advice” which sounded a lot like incel talking points – how most women are selfish and superficial, how he’d need to be tougher/more selective to find “one of the good ones”, things like that.

There are 4 girls in the group chat including me, and none of us said anything regarding that (we sort of pretended that didn’t happen). Neither did the 8 other guys. Personally for me, I didn’t feel safe doing so because I’ve had a bad experience with a guy who wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I decided to just not talk about it and block both Peter and John. I don’t know how the other girls felt about that conversation because they didn’t talk about it with me.

I’m thinking about bringing this topic up the next time I have solo therapy (after this post is up, at least). I’m worried I won’t be well received for two reasons:

1) My therapist has explicitly said she doesn’t care about what we do in the group chat and we should solve problems ourselves.

2) Other members will find out about this and accuse me of leaking information and generally being hostile towards me.

WIBTA if I brought up this conversation to my therapist anyway?

[ringtoned]

the circumstances that allow the Spiderverse to thrive are so fascinating- multiverses in the MCU are kind of flopping because there aren't enough *widely* recognized versions of a character to serve as exigence for one, but peter parker has quite possibly the most well-established and rigid yet versatile storylines ever created- his canon was already so fluid, and is exponentially so as we keep telling his story

my mind goes immediately to tom holland's spidey skipping the "origin story," proof it was already so well known that it didn't even need to be told, inadvertently creating an entirely new origin for peter, arguably a new character, one that doesn't know harry or gwen, isn't a photographer, doesn't work for the daily bugle, hasn't classic villains like the symbiote (or truly ANY THAT ARE PRESENT IN NWH, and he probably never will now that he knows they exist) and hasn't had those arcs affect his character. the mcu spiderman films are some of the highest-grossing ever and despite creating an entirely new version of peter i feel he's still thought of as one guy- like, "harry osborn" is still "peter parker's best friend" even if he isn't in some universes. there are millions of other classic spiderman story beats that are left out of very popular interpretations of peter and yet they're still universally true to his character. like, maybe everything is happening to him at the same time, somewhere.

the idea of a canon event just makes this make so much sense and peter's multiplicity makes the idea of other spider-people so easy to accept and even a welcome change from loosely rehashing peter's story. these essential beats being so richly explored and deconstructed is just so genius because it just flips all of that over its head like something something anyone can wear the mask... im just in awe.

this also being due to so many licensing wars, globalization of media, and the comic book movie explosion is like, this couldn't have happened in any other time in human history and along with the revolutionary animation i just can't believe i'm alive to witness it