#shaking at a frequency that could shatter glass

[o-mellowy]

Sleeping positions

[sereinreality]

pavitr definitely says “i love you” to hobie in hindi but refuses to answer when asks what he’s saying

[willandmichael]

the elmax/elumax brainrot strikes again

[sttoru]

ooo what abt gojo and reader are at some formal event and reader has a toy plugged inside her and gojo just turns it on at the most randomest times

POKER FACE !

ෆ sypnosis. you accompany satoru to a formal event, which you instantly regret the moment he starts controlling the toy he plugged inside of you beforehand.

ෆ note. literally drooled at this when it popped up in my inbox :3 thank u 4 this & hope you enjoy — this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !

ෆ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. public, dirty talk, use of adult toy (vibrator), edging, implied cunnilingus & blow job, uhh u suck on his finger, size difference, satoru’s a big tease.

your fingers were tightly curled around your wine glass to the point that it threatened to shatter, your gaze flickered all around the hall and your body was trying its best not to show the pleasure its receiving in secrecy.

it’s all because of your lover; gojo satoru. the man introduced a new idea to you before you attended the formal event. he said that ‘it’d be fun’ and then ordered you to plug a small vibrator inside of you—one he recently bought just for the sake of using it on your body.

you really should’ve known that satoru was going to tease you to death before you agreed to his proposal. the moment you stepped foot into the main hall was also the same moment the ‘fun’ started.

satoru walked ahead with confidence, flashing that charming smile of his to the waitress who offered you your wine glasses. his right hand held onto his drink whilst his left hand was buried deep in his front pocket. to many, that may seem like a casual gesture, but to satoru and you it was more than what it seemed.

the item hidden in that covered area was a small remote which controlled the vibrator you had put in your pussy. the vibrator was designed to give both internal and external stimulation—the external part was pressed against your clit and continuously made you shiver from pleasure.

“my baby’s looking so pretty.” satoru hums, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head like he wasn’t sexually tormenting you in the midst of a crowded place. he put his glass down on a nearby counter so he could wrap an arm around your waist.

“you doing okay?” he adds once he gets the gist of your subtle struggles. you were holding yourself pretty well according to satoru, thus he decides that you could probably take more.

the fingers in his pocket press twice onto the small ‘up’ button, increasing the frequency of the vibrations. you tense up almost immediately, one hand clamping around your glass while the other gripped onto satoru’s hand on your side.

“s-satoru, stop it—“ you whisper under your breath while trying your best to smile to any other guests who greeted you two. the escalating and pleasurable sensations made your legs start to shake. it was just a matter of time before you begin to make noise.

“don’t worry, sweets. i got you.” satoru chuckles and shakes his head, decreasing the regularity of the vibrations for a split second, “hmm.. or do i?”

there he goes again; playing with your emotions. just when you thought he decided to have mercy on you, he did the exact opposite and turned the vibrator up to its maximum setting. you bit your lower lip so hard that it begun to sting, “p-please, can’t no more, ‘toru.”

satoru nuzzles his face onto the top of your head, his nostrils filled with the recognisable scent of your shampoo. you could’ve sworn that you felt him smiling against your scalp after he left a kiss on it;

“shh, shh, t’s okay.” your lover purrs, feeling your body convulsing every now and then due to the intensity of the plugged in toy. he enjoys seeing you struggle to keep your composure in public, especially in risky situations like these. if anyone knew what was happening underneath those layers of clothes you had on, your reputation would plummet. satoru’s as well.

in an attempt to hide your erratic breathing and flustered demeanour, you pull satoru in a hug, face buried in his chest while both your hands were now clutching onto his suit jacket. hugging wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for couples, so that’s the least you could do to cover up your pleasure filled expression.

“aww, is my baby not feeling well?” satoru muses, but still tightens his grip on your waist, pressing your body against him and turning you sideways so that most attendees would only be able to see his backside, not you. at least he decided to spare you by hiding you in his embrace the best he could.

though, that didn’t mean he’d spare you from his antics just yet. the vibrator was still at its max setting after all.

the faint buzzing noise sounded ten times louder in your ears since that was all you could focus on. your clit was being overstimulated to the point that you just couldn’t hold back a couple desperate whines—the noises muffled by satoru’s dress shirt.

“hnnn— ‘toru, c-can’t, ‘m gonna..” you bit onto the fabric of his clothes as you subconsciously move your hips forward, grinding against satoru’s crotch. the pressure earns a quick hiss from your lover;

“don’t think so, pretty.” he sighs softly and his fingers move to hold in the ‘off’ button on the remote control. the toy immediately stops and you breathe out shakily— you lift your head upwards to meet satoru’s gaze. your lips were forming a small pout as if you were upset by his actions.

“what’s wrong?” satoru coos, knowing damn well that you were close to your climax, which he ruined by just one click of a button, “you couldn’t take it anymore, right?”

two of his long fingers sneaked across your waist and onto your jawline, fingertips stopping under your chin to let his thumb rub across your bottom lip, “i just did you wanted, baby.”

his voice was low and sultry, almost unable to be heard above all to the music and chatter. his index and middle finger gently tugged your chin downwards to open your mouth. his thumb smoothly slid between your lips and instantly pressed down onto the surface of your tongue—wordlessly encouraging you to suck on it.

your lips closed around his thumb without an ounce of hesitation. you were lucky that satoru was tall enough to hide you behind his figure. your vision was being blocked by his broad shoulders and it was like the entire hall disappeared from your point of view.

“mhh, such a warm mouth.” satoru murmurs as his thumb moved around, grazing against your gums while you continued to suck on his finger, “can’t wait to have my dick in here and have you choke on it.”

you are sure that if satoru continues to talk dirty like that in your ear, you’d be able to cum untouched without even the slightest help from the vibrator. the best thing about satoru’s dirty talk is that he actually means what he says and will make those words a reality one way or another.

“or i’ll just go ahead and instantly put my cock in your tight pussy once i get us outta here, yeah? i bet i’ll be able to slide right in, considering you’re probably fuckin’ dripping right now.” a shiver of excitement runs down your spine, plugged hole clenching onto the vibrator, which you wished was his cock stretching you out.

satoru smirks before gliding his thumb out of your mouth. he couldn’t wait to pull you into a private room and eat you out, tasting you on his tongue before fucking you so good you’ll forget all about his unbearable teasing.

it’s then that his senses pick up on a sorcerer who was starting to walk towards the two of you, probably to greet him. satoru bends his head down to whisper in your ear, “but before that, i’ll need to prep you more thoroughly. hang in there f’me, pretty.”

with one last peck to your forehead, satoru turns around and easily spots the guest walking towards him in the far distance. while your lover awaits them to arrive, the hand in his pocket moves and turns the toy on again. it was still set to its maximum and you needed to clamp a hand over your mouth to prevent from letting out a squeal of surprise.

satoru grinned as he spotted that reaction from out of his peripheral vision.

having this much control over you was fun, but seeing you slowly fall apart due to him and no one else was more enjoyable.

[apple-orchards-writings]

insisting to naga kylar that two dicks can't fit inside of you !!! he gets all pouty :( (is there a language barrier between the two of you?? maybe your fear gets misinterpreted as excitement !!)

TW: chasing, yandere tendencies, noncon to dubcon, aphrodisiac, oral sex, choking, oviposition, unprotected sex, minimal lubrication, he's kind of an asshole but he doesn't mean to, tried to keep the reader gender neutral

You are desperate to make him understand you, you really didn't mean to disturb him in whatever he was doing, honest ! Unfortunately for you, it's the beginning of summer and mating season has just begun. The naga in front of you is flushed, his slit opening up, revealing the tips of his ovipositors. In a show of determination and inflexible principles, your eyes try to stay fixed on his upper half, but it is quite hard when the naga himself refuses to stop chasing you through the jungle's undergrowth and is constantly blocking your way.

He's making cooing and trilling noises at you, all in different frequencies, hoping to get you to come out, for what purpose you do not know, but you're not keen on finding out. You remain convinced of your ability to lose him, taking turns and paths that would be harder for him to navigate without legs. When you can't hear him so close anymore, you decide to jump into the first cave you see, hoping to shake him off your trail.

The cave is dark and cold, a respite from the outside's heat. You sit down and curl up next to a big enough rock formation, reasoning it could serve as a secondary hiding space, just in case. You try to pull out what remains of your phone, and appraise the actual damage. The screen is almost fully shattered, and it won't turn on no matter what you press. When the naga crushed it in his hands, he definitely cut you off from the rest of the world.

As you quietly curse to yourself, cutting yourself on the broken glass that was once your touchscreen, you hear a slither coming from the cave entrance. Suddenly it occurs to you that you did not check for a second way out, so for all you know, you are blocked off in the cave, with the naga as your captor. You could make a run for it, but you'd need to be clever for it to work. In a pinch, you decide to throw your phone to the back of the cave, hoping the noise will distract the naga enough for you to attempt an escape.

As soon as he hears the noise of the busted technology hitting the ground, the naga slithers at top speed towards the back of the cave, and you take that as your chance to make a break for it, speeding towards the now unobstructed entrance without looking back. You dash towards the daylight, and are about to step out onto the sunny grass, when an arm wraps itself around your middle, and you are forcefully yanked back into the darkness.

You squirm and kick, struggling to get him to move even the slightest inch. Throughout all your efforts, the naga has been shushing and making kissy noises at you, the same noises you would make at a shy cat. As he's bringing you to the far reaching part of the cave, you realise this is in fact his personal den, and he was leading you towards it all along, playing with you. He's been gripping you close to his chest, and you can feel your practically ruined clothes getting wet from the slick almost pouring out of his slit.

You crane your neck to look at his face, and his eyes are incredibly dilated, he's sweating all over, and his smile has widened, exposing his razor sharp fangs. He notices you looking at him, and the position you're in, and seemingly takes it as a sign to bury said fangs in your neck, injecting you with some sort of fluid. You don't get a chance to ask yourself what exactly he drugged you with, as you immediately start feeling very hot in your nether regions. Fuck, it's an aphrodisiac, that's what he bit you with. A powerful one at that, seeing as how you can no longer count on your limbs to support you or push away your eager suitor.

He gently lays you on a soft moss bed, before quickly ripping off the remains of your clothes, caressing your body at the same time, making sure he hasn't nicked or scratched you with his claws. The naga is appraising your body, shivering in anticipation, when you weakly raise your hands up and point at his face.

"Wait wait, I don't even know your name, if you even have one..."

He stops in his tracks, before pointing towards himself. You nod, and he takes on a focused look before attempting to voice something out. It looks like it's taking its toll on him, but he manages to mumble something.

"...Kylar?", you surmise. The naga, now Kylar, nods enthusiastically and, without wasting anytime, goes back to worshiping your body with his mouth, one hand opening up his slit and getting his ovipositors slick enough. You're still too weak and tired to argue, and really, why resist when you have no choice ? At least he doesn't seem like he wants to hurt you, and he's kind of cute in his own way...

You're brought out of your thoughts when Kylar starts licking at your tight hole, inserting his long serpentine tongue. It's so much more different to a human's, he reaches different spots that are otherwise more ignored, which makes you arch your back in his grip. His hands are bruising your hips, claws are leaving marks, but you can't even feel it, and you bet he doesn't notice either, or doesn't care, he's lost in a trance, a need to pleasure you.

When he deigns you sufficiently lubricated and loosened up, he comes back up to face you, face covered in saliva and slick. His lips meet yours as his hands grasp your legs, pulling them up to your chest. His ovipositors are circling your hole now, and your eyes widen.

"Wait Kylar, that won't fit, there's no way !" You protest. He looks at you and lets out what sounds like a laugh, as if you were just joking. "Kylar, you'll tear me in half, you can't put two!" With furrowed eyebrows and a pout, Kylar brings a hand to your face and shoves two fingers in your mouth, before he gives you a sweet smile and thrusts his two ovipositors fully in you in one swift and brutal movement.

Even muffled by his fingers, the shriek you let out is deafening. Thankfully, Kylar is extending small mercies to you and waits for you to adjust a bit before setting a savage pace, not giving you time to breathe or stutter more than a few moans. This is not slow or sensual, this isn't making love, this is rough, feral, this is mating to him.

The end of his tail wraps around your neck, applying some light pressure in time with his thrusts. His ovipositors are thick, with a rounded base you can certainly feel, and they stretch you out immensely. They drag against your walls, hitting each and every sensitive spot without relenting, and your mind starts going blank, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

You can hear Kylar letting out hisses and trills of pleasure, but among the snaky noises, there slips some sounds you could recognize if your brain wasn't wiped clean by his rough pace. "Mine... Mine... Mate..." he stammers in between thrusts, with the slightest stumble over the n's and t's. Of course, you're too busy being fucked out of your mind to really notice.

After a few more pushes, his movements suddenly stop, and before you can ask yourself why, you feel something pop to the base of his ovipositors and your face goes white. Right, it's mating season, which means, eggs, he's going to be laying his eggs in you. You're panicking internally, but there's nothing you can do with how tight he's holding you. The round objects are scraping through your halls, no doubt to make the process enjoyable, and you can feel every single egg drop in you.

No matter how long incubation will take, you can be certain Kylar will not let you leave now that you have his children. He demonstrates this by giving you another bite on the collarbone, this one turning a nice shade of purple, and snuggling into your neck, without ever letting go of his bruising grip on you. He won't release you anytime soon, and it's to that thought that you finally succumb to the reaches of sleep.

[normal-internet-user]

shaking at a frequency that could shatter glass I know I've been here not too long ago, but. please.

h—headcanons..,, maybe...?? f-for.

Peepaw/Dad!Leo with an adopted child!reader...,, please...,... i-i need some Dad fluff with this tortuga. this overgrown hard-shell melon. this- this. (gestures vaguely) y'get me?

he's so Dad shaped. he's so fond and just radiates safety and warmth and affection and ugghhhghhh i just KNOW he'd be the best dad EVER. nay, he IS the best dad. (pseudo) sibling Casey attests to it.

(⁠ ⁠ꈨຶ⁠ ⁠˙̫̮⁠ ⁠ꈨຶ⁠ ⁠) i think i'm actually going to lose my mind . the Clan as uncles/godparents/aunties. grandpa splinter. sweet brother Casey. it takes a village to raise a kid, they say.

do you see my vision here mate? as always, only if you want to ☜⁠ ⁠(⁠↼⁠_⁠↼⁠) & if you do? just .. go ham. if anything strikes you, PUT IT IN THERE. I NEED TO HEAR IT FROM OTHER PEOPLE TOO . (/lh)

This seems appropriate to celebrate me finishing the Rise movie (I am still emotionally unwell this is me coping) I shall grant you headcanons my dearest darling /p

PEEPAW LEO AS AN ADOPTIVE FATHER

....................................

Let me start this off by saying that this man-

This man is best dad.

He finds a lost child?

'Tis his child now.

You are his child now.

Casey?

He's ecstatic.

NEW SIBLING LES GO

Especially since you're younger than him,

(Not by much, maybe afew months)

Casey makes it his life mission to protect you at all costs.

His favorite thing to do is hold your hand and lead you around.

Leo is so so good at being a dad.

I mean look as CJ,

He's got this ok?

Feeling clingy?

He'll hold you until you want him to put you down.

Nightmares?

That's ok kiddo, come curl up next to Papa, he'll keep all those monsters away.

When you get older, you are not going anywhere without him, Casey, or anyone else.

It's not safe, and the same rule applies to CJ.

So you guys go on lots of scouting missions together.

You two may as well be twins, you never go anywhere without the other.

Sometimes, you and Casey will be sent to scout really last minute,

And Leo won't be notified until you two are gone.

Whenever this happens he gets super pissed off and worried because those are his kids,

He should be the one to give them clearence to leave,

Not some random officer who decided to send you two out.

If one of you ever comes back hurt,

God speed to whomever sent the two of you out.

Leo is mad.

Like, mad-mad.

So are April, Mikey, and Donnie.

Leo would literally fall apart if he lost you or Casey.

He swore to Cass that he'd protect Casey, and he promised himself he would keep you safe.

If he lost either of you he just might completely fall apart.

Leo's busy, he's running a resistance afterall,

So he can't keep eyes on you all the time.

That's why the Hamato's take turns.

Leo's in a meeting?

Let's meditate with Master Michelangelo.

Oh he's busy too?

Time to visit Uncle Tello's lab.

Can't find him?

Well where's Commander O'neil?

Can't find her either?

Welp, enjoy the meeting, cause you're stuck there now.

Play rock paper scissors or somethin idk.

If you're around before Splinter passes, he spends alot of time around you.

He's always wanted grandchildren, and he's going to cherish you,

Especially with the world in anarchy.

When you start losing people, it get's hard.

First it was Grandpa Splints,

Then it was Uncle Tello,

Then Auntie April...

Through it all Leo made sure you were ok.

You're just a kid, and you have to grow up in this hellscape?

You've never seen the blue sky, or normal rain,

And everyone you hold close is being ripped away.

That's not fair.

So he does everything he can to make sure you grow up safe and happy.

One of his favorite things to do was tell you and Casey stories of what the world used to be like.

Your favorite is when he describes the stars.

It sounds so amazingly beautiful, shimming lights like glitter sitting up in a blackish blue abyss.

Wow...

After the events of the movie, (you knew it was coming goddammit)

Your first request is to see the stars.

Which is pretty hard since New York is really bright like all the time.

So they took you and Casey to the docks where you would be able to see them best.

You looked up at the sky in absolute awe,

Papa's words would never do the stars justice.

After a minute, you broke down in tears.

It hurt, he promised to be the one to point out the constellations and his younger self doing it just wasn't the same.

Griefing is going to be a really big thing post movie.

In the future, you never really had the chance.

Everything happened so quickly and anytime wasted on griefing could have been a death sentence.

But now, you don't have to watch every corner, you don't have to wake up in fear you'll be alone.

So you grief.

You grief your family, and Casey does too.

Sure, technically they're right outside your room.

But it's not them.

They didn't raise you.

When Leo sends you and Casey back in time,

You took it much worse than Casey, who was focused on completeing the mission.

Sure, you wanted to stop the Kraang too,

But you missed your dad...

So when you find your family's past selves,

And Leo is being so...

Reckless,

You're angry.

Really angry.

Never in your life had your father acted this way, and Casey needlessly boosting his ego 30 seconds into knowing him wasn't helping.

Through out the movie, Casey needs to remind himself that this Leo isn't your Leo.

You have absolutely no trouble with that.

You come across as cold and angry, which worries your brother since you've never been like this before.

The others just assume you're always that way.

But you're not,

And acting like this makes you hate yourself.

You're grappling with the loss of your dad, and the fact that you might fail to do what you were sent here to in the first place.

Casey pulls you aside and gives you a talk.

He understands that your hurting,

He is too,

But this isn't about the two of you.

This is about saving the world and stopping the Kraang.

After that, you can hurt all you want.

That talk ended with you sobbing into Casey's shoulder, practically collapsing to the ground while you clinged to him and begged him not to leave you too.

Aight imma hit ya with the sandwich technique.

Fluff, angst, fluff.

Boom.

When you were a kid,

You had a habit of collecting anything shiny.

Old coins, jewelry, even just shiny rocks.

If it glimmered, you wanted it.

So whenever Leo had to leave the base, he always came back with something shiny for you to add to your hoarde.

He liked to compare you to a crow, and you asked what a crow was.

Right, raised in the apocolypse.

Sure there were plenty of birds around,

But they weren't.... normal.

So Leo explained what a crow was, and that they liked to collect shiny things.

You understood, but you wanted to know what one looked like,

So you went to Uncle Tello and asked if he could show you what a crow looks like.

He showed you, and immediatly you took to the comparison proudly.

You were like a crow!

Mikey liked to put on little shows for you and all the other children that lived in the base.

Making animals and such out of his ninpo.

Your favorite were the birds, the rabbits too.

But the best was the butterflies, which he also used to help you and Casey fall asleep.

They'd flutter around you room kinda like a nightlight.

I also like to imagine that when you and Casey start scouting, you get in trouble for fucking around.

Mostly making stupid bets for your shiny things.

Casey would collect shiny things just to make these bets.

Usually it was simple stuff, like who can throw a rock the farthest,

But even stuff like that could get both of you killed.

Neither of you really listened until one day,

You're making your bet like usual,

And the building you were scouting out wasn't as empty as you thought.

The two of you nearly fell to your deaths, luckily Casey managed to grapple the two of you to safety.

But after that, you had a major fear of heights, and Leo didn't let the two of you out of his sight for a while.

He made sure to scold the two of you when you returned that day,

Before hugging you and telling you how scared he was for a second.

Leo has no problem with you and Casey being included in meetings,

Honestly he prefers it.

If you two are gonna go running around scouting, you should know what's going on.

You'll have the occasional adult who thinks you and Casey are incompitent because of your age,

And that you shouldn't participate in meetings.

But Leo puts that to rest pretty quickly.

"If they can go out, and risk their lives on missions, they can attend the meetings." He'd say.

Leo loves you with his heart and soul.

If anything happened to you, he'd fall apart.

Sometimes he just needs you to have little sleepovers with him, that way he knows you're safe and sound.

He just wants to protect you.

You're his kid,

And he loves you

....................................

I wrote this while listening to anarchy by egg, and damn that song fits.

This one is LONG that's my bad, I got alittle carried away :^

[valeriianz]

Parent Trap AU part 2! told from Robyn and Orpheus' perspective haha. (part 1!)

“Lemme see!”

“Quit shovin’!”

Robyn hovered above Orpheus, forcing the boy to crouch low so they could both poke their heads around the corner to spy on their dads.

Hob and Dream had been dancing around each other all week. Smiling and laughing and even touching each other with more and more frequency (a tap on the shoulder, a hand on the small of the back, even shoes brushing under the table). The twins’ masterful plan to make Hob and Dream fall in love again seemed to be going well… but just before anything earth-shattering happened, anything concrete, the two men seemed to remember themselves and backed away. To the utter bewilderment and anguish of the twins as they retreated back to the drawing board. 

(Literally. It was a large crayola canvas that Orpheus had in his room to doodle on).

Robyn didn’t get it. It was so obvious Dream– the father he’d always known existed somewhere– still had feelings for his dad. It had been hard to tell, in those first couple days pretending to be Orpheus, but once he’d started earnestly asking Dream about Hob, forcing him to recall stories from the past and watching as he’d smile or laugh softly to himself, his gaze far away and misty, it became clear.

But then Dream would shake his head, clearing it, and change the subject.

Robyn and Orpheus had felt that connection between themselves instantly. That zap of recognition like, “Ah-ha! We were meant to find one another.” Why was it so difficult for Dream and Hob to see it?

Robyn huffed. Grown-ups.

After briefly parting for a couple days, Robyn found himself back at Orpheus and Dream’s luxurious home, under the pretence of one last stay to reacquaint themselves to the idea of shared custody or something along those lines, the boys didn’t really understand it, but what they did understand, was that their dad’s would be sleeping under the same roof. But only for a few days.

And after chasing Cori out of the house (good riddance, the pompous git. The boys made sure to give him hell), Robyn and Orpheus knew they had to utilise their time well, plotting their biggest scheme yet.

They, along with help from Dream’s butler, Mervyn, had set up this elaborate dinner that– oh no, Robyn and Orpheus wouldn’t be able to attend, leaving their parents to dine alone. Orpheus had set the scene: candlelight dinner, serving their dad’s favourite dishes, and (Merv’s idea, bless him for taking interest in the boy’s tomfoolery) soft jazz that would eventually transition into a very special song.

“You’ll see,” Mervyn had winked at the boys as he set up the playlist. 

Robyn and Orpheus watched now, as their fathers sat down for dinner, perplexed at the absence of their sons (Dream looking exasperated and Hob scanning the room knowingly, biting down a smirk). The table was clearly only set for two people, and Robyn had done a fantastic job (in his opinion) of decorating with candles and flowers– he had studied that old photograph of their dad’s, copying the layout of the table they sat at there.

Mervyn came out and poured the wine, which is when Dream inquired where Robyn and Orpheus were.

“Afraid they couldn’t make it,” is all Mervyn said, as if the boys were very busy, tied up in meetings and paperwork and whatever else grown-ups did.

Hob propped an elbow on the table and let his head fall in the palm of his hand, shaking it slightly and fully smiling now, amused.

Robyn grinned too.

It took them a moment to finally start talking, but they fell into it, eventually. Discussing the boys at first, “little tricksters…” pranking Cori, stealing his glasses, setting the dog loose while they had wine and cheese on the terrace, and finally spooking his horse while he and Dream were out riding so the horse galloped wildly into the brush, knocking the ridiculous blond American off his saddle and into the mud.

Hob tried hiding his snickering behind his hand as Dream recanted these events to Hob, but Dream caught him with a woebegone sigh.

“It’s not funny, he sprained his wrist.”

Hob took a deep inhale, gathering himself.

“After all that wine and cheese, I hope he shit his pants, too.”

“Hob!” Dream snorted inelegantly, slapping a hand over his mouth, which only set Hob off again, laughing in earnest now.

The boys had to move away once they heard the squeaking of their own muffled laughter, both hands over their mouths, wheezing through their teeth.

“You’re just as bad as them,” Dream finally spoke after the giggles had worn off.

Hob shrugged noncommittally, mischievous grin still on as he took a long sip of his wine.

“You like it,” he said confidently, eyes sharp.

Dream said nothing, popping a forkful of beet and pear salad into his mouth.

After appetisers was dinner, then dessert. The time ticked away slowly and the boys eventually moved from their vantage point to the kitchen, asking Mervyn how it was going and the butler shooing them out with barely anything to go off of.

But it was going well, as far as the boys could tell. The conversation between Dream and Hob was flowing steadily, Dream giving out his smile more and Hob unable to take his eyes off of him. The grand finale was coming up and Robyn and Orpheus held their breaths as the jazz flittered out and in its place, a violin came up and both Dream and Hob seemed to seize up at the same time.

Orpheus was beginning to think this was a bad idea, especially as his father sat up ramrod straight, his fingers drumming on the table's surface. And Robyn’s dad looked…

Well, he looked– tortured, was a pretty close description. His lips had parted and he kept looking between Dream and his own hands, which he had begun wringing out in his lap.

“You’re just too good to be true…Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

A male’s voice crooned through the speakers, but Robyn and Orpheus paid it no mind as they silently watched their fathers.

Finally Dream met Hob’s gaze and held it. The boys held their breath, too. Wondering what was going to happen now.

“Do you think they know?” Hob asked quietly, so quiet that Robyn barely heard him speak.

“It’s our wedding song, of course they knew,” Dream sighed, casting his gaze up to the ceiling.

It was Hob’s turn to tap his fingers on the table, thinking, and making his mind up about something as he pushed his chair out and stood.

Orpheus took Robyn’s arm and shook it as Hob stepped up to Dream, dipping slightly and offering his hand.

“Dance with me?”

Dream stared at Hob’s hand, lips parted. Robyn felt himself shaking with the effort to remain calm.

Dream swallowed, Robyn could see from here.

“Do you think this is wise?” he asked in a whisper, eyes flicking up to Hob.

After a moment of tense silence, nothing but the song quietly playing, Hob took a long breath.

“It’s our song, we can’t not dance to it.”

And as if that was sound enough logic, Dream carefully took Hob’s hand, fingers elegantly curling around it, and allowed himself to be pulled up and led to a spacious spot away from the table.

Hob took the lead, using his hold on Dream’s hand to pull him close, the other hand circling his waist and causing Dream’s eyes to flutter shut as he willingly stepped closer, their bodies nearly touching, his own hand resting on Hob’s shoulder.

Robyn and Orpheus could barely watch now, from this angle. They scooted back out into the hallway to find another spot where they could see more clearly.

The only other option was from above, a loft directly above the dining room which was Dream’s study, a place Orpheus wasn’t allowed to be in by himself, but he figured this was a good enough excuse to break that rule.

Orpheus led the way, quiet tiptoeing turning into a full blown sprint up the stairs and around the corner, shushing themselves as they got to the door of his father's office and quietly pushed it open. The music was louder up here, closer to the speakers that hung from the ceiling, so they wouldn’t be able to hear their fathers if they spoke, but they could properly spy on them now without being seen or heard.

Robyn followed Orpheus’ lead and crouched down, crawling forward on his tummy and poking his head out through the railing and peeking below.

Dream and Hob were still swaying to the music, just as close and eyes open, gaze locked to each other. They had picked up momentum now that the song was more than halfway over, the second chorus coming in with trumpets and bringing the rhythm up to something more infectious, more daring as Hob’s grip around Dream’s waist circled around the small of his back, holding him tighter as he began to spin them around the room.

Dream’s long legs kept up as Hob visibly loosened up, leading them in an informal waltz. Robyn caught his dad’s wide, toothy smile every time he turned and he could see his face clearly. His eyes seemed to sparkle. 

Orpheus nudged Robyn. “I’ve never seen my father smile like that.”

Robyn had noticed that Dream was smiling, too. But it was lips only, parting every now and then, like he was holding it back, biting his bottom lip afterwards to keep it at bay. But his eyes lit up in a way that was almost unrecognisable, focused solely on Hob.

Hob’s hand on Dream’s waist dropped, taking his other hand suddenly and taking a step back, turning Dream in his hold so his back was against Hob’s front, and spun him out, Dream following along with a surprised yelp and laughter that the boy’s heard from their vantage point.

When Hob pulled Dream back in, they were closer than before, chests flush together and noses bumping fleetingly. 

The song was coming to an end, fading out as Hob and Dream slowed in their dancing to a standstill. 

Orpheus gasps next to Robyn. “They’re gonna kiss.”

“Shh!” Robyn bumped his elbow to his brother’s side. 

The boys held their breath as the song finally ended and another one started, instrumental jazz again. The men stood so Robyn and Orpheus could see both of them from the side, watching with bated breath as Hob brought up Dream’s left hand and kissed the knuckles, eyes glued to Dream’s.

Hob said something, his lips moving, unable to make out from here, but Robyn could see how Dream’s eyes widened as Hob dropped his hold on the other hand, moving his up to cup the side of Dream’s face.

Hob leaned in, agonisingly slow, eyes half-lidded. 

And was met with Dream turning his face away, so not even the boys could see what expression he gave off.

Hob’s head dipped, defeat radiating off him, his forehead resting solemnly on Dream’s temple.

Robyn had to bite his tongue to hold back the groan of frustration that bubbled up in his throat. All Orpheus’ and his hard work!

Dream swallowed again, his jaw twitching, saying something, to which Hob shook his head, finally dropping his hands and ripping himself away.

“Hob, I’m sorry…” the words barely made it up to the twin’s ears, spoken by Dream, broken and thick.

Hob shook his head again, a painful, false smile plastered onto his face as he took another step back, then another, putting more and more distance between them.

“No…” Orpheus bemoaned, sitting up slightly. “What’s happening?”

Hob said something, quiet, before finally turning around and walking out of the room.

A long, heavy moment permeated the air, made doubly awkward as the music continued to play.

Dream stood, wrapping his arms around his middle.

And the boys simultaneously rolled onto their backs, staring blankly up to the ceiling.

So they missed the way Dream wiped a hand over his eyes, took a steadying inhale, and ran after Hob.

[thepromisesatsundown]

BELIEF | WENCLAIR

Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair

Description: When Enid's struggles with the aftermath of that night, all she needs is for someone to believe in her. Luckily, if there's one person Wednesday Addams could believe in, it's Enid Sinclair.

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Crying, Soft Wednesday Addams (for Enid only), A bit of Canon-Divergence, Healing, References to PTSD

WC: 2.6k

A/N: Uh hi so this is the first oneshot I'm posting and bare with me, it is far from perfect haha I pumped it out really late at night but wanted to get something out there at least. I'm truly just going through as many random prompts I can find and writing oneshots based on them- if anyone sees this and has requests please send them my way. Anyway, enjoy!

Nevermore Academy bustled with a manufactured merriment that Wednesday Addams found entirely too fraudulent. Garlands in a shade of green that nature had never intended dripped from every railing, fairy lights winked with seizure-inducing frequency, and an enormous pine tree hulked in the corner of the common room like a many-armed monster playing dress-up.

The new principal, a man whose name Wednesday had forgotten as soon as she’d heard it, had decreed that festivities would continue until the very eve of winter break. Something about “breathing life back into Nevermore.” Wednesday thought the only thing Nevermore needed breathing into was sense.

Amidst the aggressive cheer, a lone figure caught Wednesday’s eyes. Enid Sinclair, lifelessly sorted through a box of baubles. When a strand of lights tumbled from the mantelpiece with a shatter of glass, Enid flinched, her entire body constricting inward.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. Enid’s enthusiasm for all things bright and jolly was constant, a northern star in Wednesday’s sky of black. To see her so dimmed, so diminished, sparked an unfamiliar ache in Wednesday’s chest. She could still see the gouges in the wall from that night, could still hear Enid’s howls of pain echoing through the woods.

Belief. Such a simple word for such a complex thing. Enid had believed in the fundamental goodness of people, in the magic of the holidays, in the power of a well-timed hug. And in one blood-soaked night, those beliefs had been shaken to their core.

Wednesday watched as Enid attempted to hang a glass reindeer on the tree, her hands trembling. The reindeer slipped, tumbling end over end before shattering on the floor. Enid stared at the glittery shards, eyes wide.

Without a conscious thought, Wednesday found herself moving toward the werewolf. She didn’t know what she would say, what she could possibly offer in the face of such quiet devastation. But she knew, with a certainty that surprised her, that she had to try.

Because in a world where monsters lurked in friendly faces, where the line between good and evil blurred like ink in the rain, belief was a fragile thing. And Wednesday realized, with a jolt that felt suspiciously like the ghost of a feeling, that Enid’s belief was something worth protecting.

Wednesday was already halfway across the room when the crack of a party popper rang through the air. It sounded like a gunshot, like the snap of bone, like a mirror shattering. Enid, who had been reaching for another ornament, froze. Her hand hung suspended, nails curled into claws.

For a moment, the world stopped. Enid shuddered. A full-body shiver that seemed to start at her toes and work its way up, leaving her shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps, each one a serrated knife to Wednesday’s ears.

The common room fell silent too. Conversations died mid-word, laughter cut off like a guillotined head. Every eye turned to Enid, who stood in the center of it all.

Wednesday saw the exact moment the attention became too much. Saw the way Enid’s eyes darted wildly, searching for an escape. Saw the tremble in her lip, the heave of her chest. And then, like a startled deer, Enid bolted.

She moved with a speed that rivaled her wolf form. A speed born of desperation and fear. She was out the door before anyone could so much as draw a breath, leaving only a streak of blonde hair and the lingering scent of cinnamon in her wake.

Wednesday didn’t hesitate. Didn’t pause to consider the implications of what she was about to do. She simply moved, her feet carrying her after Enid as if they had a mind of their own. Behind her, the common room erupted into a hive of buzzing speculation, but Wednesday paid it no mind. Her focus had narrowed to a single point, a single purpose. 

Find Enid. Help Enid. Protect Enid.

As she ran, Wednesday’s mind spun, gears turning in unfamiliar patterns. Enid was sunshine personified, a beacon of unwavering optimism in a sea of teenage angst. To see her so shattered, so utterly undone… it stirred something in Wednesday. Something fierce and primal, something that snarled at the thought of Enid in pain.

Memories flashed through her mind. Enid, face matted with blood, running towards her despite the pain. Enid, her voice hoarse from exertion, insisting she was fine even as her body was torn in pieces. Enid, always Enid, putting on a brave front for the world while she crumbled inside.

Not this time, Wednesday vowed. This time, she would be the strong one. This time, she would be the believer.

She just had to find Enid first.

Her pace never slowed as she continued through the halls. She checked all the usual spots—their shared room, the greenhouse, the hidden alcove behind the staircase where Enid sometimes went to think. But each place was empty. Devoid of the warmth and light that seemed to follow the wolf wherever she went.

Frustration mounted in Wednesday’s chest. Where could she be? Where would Enid go when the world became too much, when the memories nipped at her heels like hungry wolves? And then, it hit her. A flash of insight that stole her breath. The library. Of course. Where else would someone go to hide from their own story?

Wednesday changed course, her strides lengthening, her pace quickening. The library was an oft-overlooked part of Nevermore, a labyrinth of shelves. It was the perfect place to get lost, to disappear into the stacks and let the world fade away.

The minute she burst through the door, Wednesday’s voice was a knife cutting through the gloom. “Enid?”

Silence. Then, a sniffle. A hitched breath. A muffled sob.

Wednesday followed the sound, weaving through the aisles. She turned a corner and there Enid sat, with her knees drawn up to her chest and her face buried in her arms. She was shaking, fine tremors running through her frame like electrical currents.

“Enid.” Wednesday’s voice was softer than she’d ever heard it, nothing more than a mere wisp in the silence.

Enid’s head snapped up, her eyes swollen and glassy. “Wednesday? What are you doing here?”

Wednesday crouched down, bringing herself to Enid’s level. “I could ask you the same question.”

A watery laugh bubbled up from Enid’s throat, but it sounded more like a sob. “Hiding, I guess. Pathetic, right?”

“No.” The word was out before Wednesday could stop it. “Not pathetic. Never pathetic.”

Enid blinked. It was rare for Wednesday to be so vehement, so unequivocal. Usually, her words were measured, carefully weighed and parceled out like precious gems. But now, at this moment, there was no hesitation. No second-guessing.

“I just…” Enid’s voice faltered, her gaze dropping to her hands. They were clenched in her lap, fingers intertwined so tightly the knuckles had turned white. “I can’t stop thinking about that night. About the hyde. About… about Tyler.”

His name hung in the air for a beat. It was a name that carried the scent of betrayal, of shattered trust and broken promises. A name that tasted like ashes on the tongue.

Enid swallowed. “Every time I close my eyes, I see him. Not as he was at the end, as he was before. When he was just Tyler. When he was… when I thought he was someone you could trust.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, fracturing like a pane of glass under too much pressure. Wednesday felt something twist inside her. A sharp, unfamiliar ache. It was a feeling she couldn’t quite name, but it burned like poison.

“I trusted him,” Enid whispered. A confession. A secret shame pulled from the depths of her soul. “I trusted him, and he… he…”

She couldn’t finish it. The sentence lodged in her throat, choking her, strangling her. Enid’s shoulders began to shake, more tremors that quickly escalated into full-body shudders.

“I can still feel it,” she gasped out. “The hyde. Its claws on my skin, its teeth. I can still hear the sound it made when it… when Tyler…”

Another shudder ripped through her, so violent it seemed to shake the very air. It was as if the memory itself was a physical thing, a malevolent presence that sunk its own claws into Enid’s very being.

Wednesday felt a surge of something hot and fierce burn in her chest. That same protective instinct, stronger this time. She wanted to reach out, to gather Enid into her arms and hold her until the shaking stopped. She wanted to hunt down every last one of Enid’s demons and banish them to the darkest pits of hell.

But she didn’t know how. Comfort, empathy, these were foreign lands to Wednesday. Uncharted territories with no map to guide her. All she had was the compass of her own heart, spinning wildly.

So, she did the only thing she could think of. She reached out, slowly, tentatively, and placed her hand on Enid’s knee. It was a small gesture, a tiny point of contact. Buti t was a start.

“Enid,” she said, ever so softly. “You’re safe now. I swear it. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Enid’s eyes finally met Wednesday’s. There was a vulnerability there, a look she’d never seen on the girl’s face before. A look that spoke of sleepless nights and unspoken fears.

“I want to believe that,” Enid whispered, voice trembling. “I want to believe it so badly. But every time I close my eyes…”

She trailed off, but she didn’t need to finish. Wednesday could see it in the shadows under her eyes, in the pallor of her skin. The nightmares, the memories, they were eating away at Enid, stealing her sleep and her peace.

Wednesday’s heart clenched. She felt lost. These sorts of emotional situations were Enid’s strengths, not hers. But for Enid, she would try. She would reach into the depths of her own soul and find a way to be the rock Enid needed.

“Tell me about them,” she said, and it wasn’t a demand, but an invitation. “The nightmares. Perhaps… Perhaps talking about them will help.”

Enid hesitated, her lower lip caught between her teeth. For a moment, Wednesday thought she might refuse, might pull away and retreat back into herself. But then, with a shaky sigh, Enid began to speak.

“It’s always the same,” she said, lowering her gaze back down. “I’m rushing back into the woods, trying to find you. But the hyde… Tyler… he’s there. He’s coming for you, and I can’t transform. I can’t move. I can’t run. I can’t do anything but watch as he… as it…”

A sob wrenched itself from Enid’s throat, and Wednesday’s hand tightened on the werewolf’s knee.

“Sometimes I wake up nearly screaming,” Enid continued, the words tumbling out now, as if a dam had burst inside her. “Sometimes I don’t sleep at all. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, afraid to close my eyes.”

Wednesday’s heart ached harder. She knew what it was like to be haunted by the past, to have ghosts that refused to be laid to rest. But she’d always faced her demons alone, armed with nothing but her own stubbornness and wit.

Yet Enid… Enid was different. She was sunlight and laughter, warm hugs and bright smiles. She wasn’t meant for the shadows, for the cold embrace of fear.

“I’m sorry,” Wednesday said abruptly, though it felt inadequate, too small to encompass the depth of what she was feeling. “I’m sorry you must bear this burden. But you are not alone, Enid. I am here. Right here.”

Enid drew her eyes back up to Wednesday. “I know,” she sighed. “I know you are. And I… I don’t know what I’d do without you, Wednesday.”

The words hit Wednesday like a physical blow. She’d never been anyone’s anchor, anyone’s safe harbor in a storm. She’d never been needed like this, never been trusted with something so precious, so fragile.

It terrified her. It exhilarated her. It made her want to be better, to be stronger, to be everything Enid needed her to be.

Without thinking, Wednesday opened her arms. And for a moment, Enid hesitated, eyes wide and uncertain. But, with a sob that sounded like a release, Enid lunged forward. Crashing into Wednesday’s embrace, the wolf buried her face into the crook of her raven’s neck.

The Addams closed her arms around Enid, pulling her close. She could feel the girl shaking, could feel the hot splash of tears against her skin. But she didn’t pull away. She didn’t let go. She held her close, held her tight, as if she could physically hold Enid together, could keep all her broken pieces from flying away.

And slowly, Wednesday’s arms tightened around Enid. It was a strange sensation, holding someone like this. Wednesday was used to keeping people at a distance, both physically and emotionally. Touch, for her, had always been associated with pain or discomfort.

But holding Enid… it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel intrusive or uncomfortable. It felt… right. Like a piece of puzzle slotting into place, like a chord resolving after al ong, tense progression.

She could feel the rapid beat of Enid’s heart, the way her chest heaved with each shuddering sob. It was overwhelming, this closeness. It was scary and beautiful all at once. It felt like standing on the edge of a precipice, staring down into an unknown abyss.

But not once did she pull away. Not once did she let go. Instead, she lifted one hand and began to rub slow, smoothing circles on Enid’s back.

“Shh,” she murmured. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

The words felt strange coming out of her mouth. Unfamiliar. Clumsy. Wednesday wasn’t used to offering comfort, nor being gentle. Her tone was nothing short of sharp and cutting. But now… now she needed to be soft. Now she needed to be the balm to Enid’s wounds.

Enid’s sobs began to gradually quieten, her shaking beginning to still. She seemed to melt into Wednesday’s embrace. It was as if all the tension, all the fear and pain, was draining out of her, leaving her empty and exhausted.

Wednesday held her through it. She didn’t speak, didn’t offer any more platitudes or reassurances. She simply held on. Even as time began to stretch and warp and seconds bled into minutes.

But finally, after what could have been a lifetime or a heartbeat, Enid stirred. She lifted her head from Wednesday’s shoulder, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. But there was something else in her gaze now, a flicker of something that looked like hope.

“Thank you,” her voice was hoarse and raw as she whispered. “For… for everything. For being here. For not… not letting me be alone.”

Wednesday’s heart swelled. It was a feeling she couldn’t categorize nor even identify, but made her feel light, made her feel as if she could take on the world and win.

“You are far from alone,” she said firmly. “You shall never be alone, Enid. Not for as long as I am alive and breathing.”

Enid’s lips trembled, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. But these tears were different. These were tears of relief, of gratitude, of something that might have been love.

“I know,” she said, and there was a new strength in her voice. A new steadiness. “I know that now.”

And it was in that very moment, with Enid in her arms and the scent of old books in her nose, Wednesday realized something. Something vast and horrifyingly wonderful, something that felt quite like the first flicker of belief.

Enid, she knew, wasn’t just something to protect. She was something to fight for. Something to believe in.

And Wednesday… Well, Wednesday was ready to believe.

[unsanitarystation]

Magnus takes such personal offence to his captain pissing everywhere. He monitors the whole fiasco so keenly. It becomes his top priority. Of course he enforces all the other rules as well- but they're of a slightly lower priority now. Missing one audit to ensure the flooring is perfectly flat would not be life or death. However, Rodimus pissing all over the ship could be. It could be the death of him. Or other members of the crew. Literally. He's sure.

Every time he sees Roddy leave another puddle on the bridge it makes his energon boil. His plating gets so hot and his spark spins so fast that he feels lightheaded. Obviously, it's from the disgust. The Anger.

Magnus has been taking notes. He's been plotting charts. The frequency of the messes has been increasing. The trends are obvious. Almost every single time he's checked on his captain in his habsuite, he's been playing around with his waste fluid. It's bad. It's cataclysmic.

The datapad in Magnus's servo shakes and the screen cracks. There's steam escaping from his vents. From the. Anger. The Outrage.

I mean, could you blame him for it? Just how many times could he be expected to drag his captain to the washracks and spray him clean.

The moment he so much as thinks about Rodimus stroking his spike as he pisses all over himself, the cracked screen on his datapad spiderwebs all the way to the corners, the image distorting and shorting out as the screen fails entirely.

It's at a rather irregular time, but he storms off to check on the captain Now. He needs to know the captain is Not currently making a mess, and in his office no less. He should be on shift now. If he's-

The captain's office door slides open and Rodimus is indeed there. In his seat. One leg slung over the armrest so that his exposed valve is spread open. He has his head lolled back as he pants and rubs the heel of his palm against his anterior node, pissing as hard as he can so he sprays it everywhere.

The datapad shatters in Magnus' grip.

The sound of the crunching of glass and shards of datapad hitting the floor make Roddy look up. He has the audacity to grin at Magnus as he continues to rub his stream of waste against his swollen node.

That's it.

Hes had enough.

Magnus' heavy boots stomp across the office. He doesn't even bother to go round the desk. With his height, he reaches over, grabbing the captain by his collar faring and drags Roddy across the desk.

Rodimus gasps, suddenly held up to optic height with his second in command. He barely has the time to croak out a cheeky 'hey-' before Magnus has made his way around the desk and slams Rodimus face first into the floor.

Magnus' servo is on the back of his captain's neck, pressing down firmly enough that Roddy stays put, his face in a pool of his warm waste fluids, despite his whines and squirms.

Magnus makes it clear. As the Duly Appointed Officer of the Tyrest Accord, he will ensure every mech will be held accountable for their own transgressions. And, for Rodimus, that simply means for him to clean his own fragging mess up. Now.

Rodimus tries to say something snarky, but Magnus just presses down harder. He pushes until Roddy simply whines and starts licking. See? He's lapping his own mess up. Like a good captain. His exposed valve is still raised in the air and twitches as he licks the floor.

Magnus' plating is burning by the time he's deemed the floor decent enough to drag Roddy back up by his collar faring. Their next stop is the washracks, where Magnus all but throws Rodimus in, tells him to keep his thighs spread, and gets the hose.

The moment the cold water hits Rodimus' array, the captain squeaks, and then starts rolling his hips into the stream.

He had finally stopped pissing earlier when Magnus had grabbed him, but now he's somehow found it in himself to void even more. Magnus can see the weak dribbles of purplish fluid mixing with the water being washed down the drain. And he just can't stand it.

Before he can even really think about it, Magnus' massive servo is on Rodimus' valve, scrubbing him clean with the water. Roddy wails and immediately bucks his hips into the officer's servo. His digits are so big, rubbing over his twitching node and spasming valve.

He overloads so fast, pushing his hips as hard against Magnus' servo as he can, his waste tank finally emptying it's last few spurts of fluid.

Magnus, fans spinning at their maximum settings to cool his overheating systems, finally pulls his servo away with a grimace. He doesn't stop the water, letting the steam continue to assault Rodimus' node, washing away the last streaks of lubricant that leak out of his cycling valve. He keeps going until Roddy is whimpering and squirming and pulling his knees together, begging Magnus to stop

hrgh... fuck it. I think that Magnus should plug his pee hole. Control when and where Rodimus expells his waste, maybe adhering him to a strict schedule that Roddy isn't allowed to deviate from.

Seeing the captain all flushed and trembling becuase he really needs to go Absolutely doesn't do anything for Magnus. He's just proud of himself for solving the problem so effectively!

[meganwayne24]

A Ticking Clock (pt. 5)

At a time like this? Really?

Fandom: Insomniac Spider-Man Word Count: 1668 Pairing: PS5 Harry Osborn x Reader Synopsis: Peter and you have a run-in with Kraven. Harry gets jealous of your banter with Peter before you climb through the…particle accelerator?

You scurried to compose yourself and ran out of Harry’s home. You were swinging and gliding the fastest you could through all the old money apartment buildings. By the time you arrived at the cemetery, the large and bulky man had been taken down along with many others seeming to serve Kraven. You landed quietly, hoping to find Peter amidst the chaos that had come to pass. Analyzing the scene, you see the main door to the church was open.

Peaking in, you see Peter skulking around. “Here to pick up a serum order for Dr. Connors!”

You whispered loud enough for him to hear, “Spider-Man! It’s Y/-” You realized anyone could be nearby and hear your name. “Uhh spider…woman? I guess?”

“Not bad, Spider-Woman.” He chuckled.

“Shut up, it was the only thing I could come up with on short notice.” Peter swung up to the platforms above. You stayed on ground level to cover the bases.

The silence in the church was unsettling. The chandelier’s lights provoked an eerie feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t shake. The division between the cold atmosphere above and what felt like blood lust below alarmed you. Tentacles started pushing their way out from your sides the more wary you became. A thunderous voice echoed through the air of the room. No matter where you were, it felt like a monster was right behind you. “You have hunted me. This is good.” You spun around quickly with a fist ready for action, but nothing was there.

“Let’s see if you have the strength to finish what you started.” Before you could react, you looked up to see Kraven holding a knife to Peter’s throat.

“I see a man and a woman. I sense…a beast. Why don’t you set it free?” He was taunting Peter successfully. Peter’s suit sent Kraven flying across into the church bell. The ring was shrill to your ears. Your mind went blank with agony. You and Peter both screamed while hunched over in pain. Almost like a practiced, synchronized act, the two of you shot out black webs forcing the bell into the wall.

In what was likely your only chance, your thoughts synced with Peter. You knew what to do. You webbed up to the platforms, sending out another appendage to reach the serum. You landed gracefully next to Pete with the vial firmly in your grasp. “We’re just here to save our friend.”

Peter was angry. You were too focused on the adrenaline flowing through your veins to have any other thought. “We’ll finish this later.” He growled. You hadn’t heard Peter speak like that before. You both zipped out of the window, leaving shattered stained glass everywhere. A beautiful yet devastating sight.

You were now swinging through the city. “Harry, MJ we got the serum. On our way back to Emily-May.” Peter carried on the conversation with them. He reassured Harry that it went well, but he and MJ spoke privately afterwards of what really happened. The new issue of frequencies making the suit malfunction was going to make for a hell of a time.

You were gliding through the air at a distance from Peter when you got a call from Harry. His voice was tainted with concern. “Hey Y/N. I have a feeling Pete was hiding how bad it actually was out there. Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah we are. There’s a slight problem with the suit and certain frequency exposures but we’re okay. How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright for now. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Me too. I’ll see you soon at the lab yeah?”

“I’ll be here. See you Y/N.”

You glided for another couple minutes, swinging between the support structures of the bridge before arriving at Emily-May. The rooftop had a secret entry way that you used.

Peter jumped in first, you followed swiftly. When you got inside, Harry was reading over Dr. Connors’ file. You and Pete morphed out of your suits into black outfits. His was a button down, quarter length sleeve shirt with jeans and runners while you were in a long sleeve mid-length top and leggings with boots to match.

Harry was still deep in the files, not turning around yet. “You still got it?” You handed over the vial to him. He looked up at you, not expecting your shift in demeanour. There was a new confidence you hadn’t noticed you’d been feeling. His eyes lingered on your figure as your fingers grazed each other’s. It was impossible not to notice your curves and how the outfit complimented them well.

Snapping out of his observant state, he took the serum into his hand. “Let’s see what this thing is made of.” The three of you proceeded to correct the errors in order to form the cure. It started with eliminating the atoms blocking the lizard receptors. By doing that, its instability was discovered. The only way to fix this was…

“Particle accelerator!” In unison, the excitement flooded you all.

“I never thought you guys would be using it this soon!” You knew how exciting this was for them. You all began to run towards the railing of the wide ocean coloured balcony.

Harry’s eyes were more full of light than you’d seen in awhile. “That’d be like using a shotgun for a haircut.”

“Hell of a haircut,” Peter chimed in.

“Quite the analogy Harry…keepin it classy,”

“That’s how I roll,” He flashed a cheeky grin at you. Harry looked ecstatic to be able to use the particle accelerator. You couldn’t help but blush at the man standing before you.

You all moved quickly to the large device to finish preparing the antidote. “The techs said it needs repair, but maybe it’s okay…” Harry was going through the requirements to set up the process. You stood close to him seeing what he was typing as Peter placed the serum in the tube tray. “Okay…” He lifted the cover revealing the ominous red button, “No black holes no black holes no black holes…” Nothing but the sound of fizzling came. Harry sighed. “Pressure change popped an inner section out of alignment.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’d have to go inside to fix that right?” The boys looked at you attentively with a hint of admiration. “What?” you innocently remarked.

Harry looked in your eyes for a brief moment and smiled. “Uh, nothing. But yeah, that would be the only way.” You turned walking towards the entrance where Peter was standing in the suit.

“No, nope. I wanna do this, back up Spider-Boy.”

Harry tuned in to what the two of you were thinking. “Whoa- whoa whoa whoa, what are you doing?” He was protective in nature.

Peter’s new-found boldness knew no bounds. “The suit’ll protect me, right?”

“You mean me. I’m doing this. You got to go hang around wearing a tux with a tiger. My turn,”

“I wasn’t wearing the suit when I was with Dima.”

“Oh you got her name and everything. Such a gentleman-”

Harry intruded, cutting the wits short. A tinge of jealousy flared in his eyes. “Y/N, I don’t know about this-”

“Relax. I got it.” You hopped in and started crawling through the claustrophobia-inducing tunnel.

“Be a good proton Harry,”

“Huh?”

Peter flashed finger guns at him “stay positive.”

You heard Harry scoff but chuckle at the remark. You continued following the path. The lighting reminded you of the church. You had a feeling something wasn’t right.

“So, what’s the inside of a particle accelerator like?” Harry’s curiosity piqued.

“I mean it’s amazing. You guys gotta check this out sometime,”

“Peter could.” Harry sounded frustrated.

Before you could respond, you set the inner section back in its place. The accelerator lit up while making extremely loud noises. “Uhh guys?”

Peter looked to Harry for the answer. “It’s powering up! But the beam’s erratic, use the magnets to stabilize it!”

“How?!” You could hardly hear yourself think inside the machine, let alone having to focus on what to do.

“Just find the sweet spot.”

“Particle accelerators do NOT have sweet spots!” You shot tentacles out at the magnets in order to fix it. “Great, done. Right?”

“There’s one more set of magnets ahead!”

You rolled your eyes. “You can’t be serious!”

“If you can’t stabilize the beam, it’ll destroy the serum!”

“Fantastic. You know if this wasn’t stressful before, it sure as hell is now!”

“You got this Y/N.” Peter was trying to be encouraging. Harry was gritting his teeth.

“This better not ruin the tap on my debit card.” You fixed the final one. You kept crawling through until electrical charges started coming at you. “Hey! What the hell is this?”

“The particle accelerator is up and running. Just avoid them and come out.” Harry’s voice was stern. Not as lighthearted as before. Normally there was a sense of comfort in it, like coming home after a long day, but not now.

You got to the end and knocked on the door. You carefully placed yourself back on the ground and morphed back into your outfit. Despite Harry’s attitude, he still couldn’t take his eyes off you. You hunched over out of breath. “Yeah you know next time any crawling in tiny spaces with electricity comes up, not it.”

Another loud, shrill buzzer started going off. Peter and you were once again covered in the suits while trying to get through the pain. The screams swarmed the lab. Harry ran to the red button, shutting the noise off.

The relief in your mind is how you imagined euphoria at this rate. “One more thing happens and I just might lose it.” You both stood up, disturbed but okay.

“What was that?” Peter asked before you could.

“More static discharges. The accelerator’s still running though. The serum’s okay.” Harry at least sounded more at ease now. “Guess the suit has sensitive ears…”

You looked at him intently. “Apparently.”

You all took a moment until a scent filled the air. You turned to look.

“Fire!” Peter called out.

“So much for not losing it.” You all ran to put out the fires. One more thing to ruin the night.

A/N: we're back!!! I swear this story is gonna get more interesting just stick with it! Are we slow-burning? Maybe?? Is there a little chemistry between Y/N and Peter?? Maybe??? Who knows hehe

[hanibalistic]

#999A92 | HAN. JISUNG.

genre | hurt/comfort, found family au/brother!han & brother!jisung

word count | 1955

warning | mention of being sick, mention of puking 

note | i remember puking once. didn't like it. 

universe | tciu

your splitting headache hummed at a frequency too high to hear, but han knew it only lasted for a few seconds because his blurred eyesight immediately regained perfection. the glass cup previously in his hand was broken into tiny pieces from the faint moment of uncontrolled strength caused by your headache.

jisung perked up from the couch, the side of his face illuminated by the colors on the television screen. his eyes were wide from the abrupt noise han made, although the breaking of cups itself hasn't been uncommon today. he would know. he was in charge of reversing the process of every breakage. "you broke another cup?"

"it's in the sink. thanks," han grumbled as he turned away from the ingredients he carefully laid out for a cup of hot tea. he needed something to combat your fever and its unsurprisingly severe effects on him.

jisung watched han from his peripheral vision. his brother sluggishly moved from one point of the kitchen to another, grabbing a cup of water, it seemed. he could tell han was annoyed, but more so defeated than being doused in a fit of rage because he hadn't been able to do anything successfully today.

it started with your abrupt migraine this morning. the twins were grossly unprepared for the pain spiking in your head to be the first thing they experienced. they could not guard against it, causing the ground to shake briefly and the light bulbs around the house to pop. changbin called the school about your absence on his way out to buy new light bulbs and over-the-counter medicine. meanwhile, han failed his multiple attempts to clean the shattered glass on the floor. everytime your headache spikes, he loses control over his actions.

trying to cook breakfast was a terrible idea. han should have known how much of a hassle it would be to make food, but he wasn't willing to deviate from his daily routine over inconsistently-timed outbursts. all that resulted was an uproar of stove fire and eggs flipped high to the ceiling. jisung was already pouring a bowl of likely overdue cereal three groans into the breakfast journey.

without school occupying their time, which at this point the twins weren't sure if they preferred, they decided to put a movie on while they waited for changbin's return. but trying to pay attention to the screen and take all plot points proved challenging, too. even though they've somewhat gotten used to being influenced by the flu you caught, the ringing noise in their ears and the increasing feeling of shared pain still took up most of the space in their head. using a movie as a distraction was useless.

"he's taking an awful long time to get medicine," han muttered when he was within earshot.

jisung chuckled faintly as he watched han drag himself to the other end of the couch and slump down. there was barely any space left after jisung laid himself down with a blanket over his knees, but he buckled his knees to avoid being sat on. as han dropped onto the couch, he raised a finger slightly to catch the hot water that spilled over the edge of han's cup and discreetly returned it to where it came from. han took notice of it, grimaced, and said nothing.

"maybe there's a lot of people at the pharmacy," jisung said.

han put his hand under the cup to further heat the water up. his chest heaved steadily with each clipping of commercials on the television, enjoying this strange moment of calm instead of refuting jisung's claim.

he didn't think there were a lot of people at the pharmacy or the department store, whichever changbin was at. he believed changbin was taking so long because he didn't know what kind of medicine to get for the flu. he never had to get one for himself, and he never had to for a child. he was now forced to gather information on which of the millions of options work best, which, if he knew better, all of them technically should work.

that was a roundabout way to say han didn't think changbin was fit to be a parent, let alone you three's parent.

"what do you think about him?"

jisung peered without turning his head. he was comfortable lying on his forearm. "who? changbin?"

"yeah." han nodded.

there was a soft, nonchalant hum. jisung was thinking, but the hum could very well be an indifferent response, serving as the end of the conversation. that wouldn't be far off from what jisung thought about changbin. he managed to see into changbin's past the first day you met, and nothing was interesting. he couldn't determine if the man was good or bad. if han was asked about what he saw in changbin's past, which was mostly blood and death, he wouldn't be able to use that to make up an answer about his character either.

all there was of changbin now was that he was stoic, straightforward, and didn't enjoy speaking to any of you. jisung didn't care for social interactions with him enough to dislike the fact that he was limited to it.

"there must be something you want to say," han urged quietly.

"i don't know him well enough," jisung said. "i'm waiting for him to mess up."

"and i want to go home," han took a short sip of water, "i want mom and dad back."

jisung raised a brow in mild surprise. han has never explicitly expressed his liking toward your old foster home. he was always the harder one to read; he would speak, usually on your behalf, but he wouldn't say anything about himself. he pointed out apparent things and kept his opinions to himself. it was easy to suspect he didn't like it there, so hearing him address the married couple you previously housed with as mom and dad in this context was unexpected.

"i don't understand why they never adopted us," jisung muttered.

han's eyes reflected the colors flickering across the television screen. a door down the hallway opened before another one was closed; you likely left your room to use the bathroom. at least you managed to get out of bed. he swore he felt a bad case of growing pains just now. his chest moved slowly once and stopped, then he softly responded, "i think you know why. we all know–argh!"

the glass cup in han's hand ripped a few cracks around its body before it shattered, letting the liquid inside leak onto his lap. jisung opened his squeezed-shut eyes to catch the television pause from its shaking. he inwardly sighed at the faint hum of the commercial jingle in the company of your weeping from the bathroom. the neighbors may have a complaint or two after today.

sparing han a brief glance while he got off the couch to check on you, he saw that han was trying to get all the glass pieces off his thighs and the couch surface. he didn't need any extra help, and even if he did, jisung wouldn't lend a helping hand when you were crying so loudly in the bathroom. bare feet pitter-pattered their way across the floor to the hall, where among a wall of shadow was the light beaming in the size of a single door. jisung approached the frame and peeked inside, finding you on the floor with your head resting on the toilet seat and one of your hands halfway into the toilet bowl.

he made a throaty noise of disdain upon your tear-stricken face as he crouched next to you. "han broke another cup. his–" he rolled his eyes skyward and hummed–"fifth one today."

you hiccupped away the acidic taste in your mouth. "i puked."

"i figured." he arched his neck to look inside the toilet. grimacing, he reached a hand up to press on the silver handle. "you also didn't flush."

"because i was puking!" you exclaimed, your teary voice covered by the rush of water draining the fluids down the toilet.

it started as a bad stomachache, then there was an abrupt rush of sourness at the back of your mouth, flooding onto your tongue with your saliva. you went to the bathroom to spit the phlegm, but the second you bent your waist, the urge to puke took over. the pain all over your body, your aversion to puking, the suddenness of its arrival, and the stamina it took forced you to burst into tears.

"i'm hungry," you muttered, featured scrunching up. "i wanna eat mom's porridge."

jisung stared at you in silence for a while. the consensus was that switching foster homes was a wrong arrangement. unfortunately, it wasn't an agreement came to by anyone who would be impacted by it. it never was. and han was right. he knew why you three were never adopted. the glass pieces on the floor and the rumbling of apartment walls were enough trouble. being under watchful eyes was a wicked responsibility not all parents would care to share.

he often wondered how your mother would have reacted. your mother–the woman whose womb he slept in for however many hours or days before you three were found. he wouldn't exist if she was alive, but he admitted he possesses a discreet yearning to be loved, always be your brother, and be normal. sadly, the current story was his birth acting as a result of her death. he would always be the remains of your mother's undoing–his mother's demise.

"i miss her food too," jisung said as he reached for a tissue to wipe your mouth. "come on, let's go outside."

he clumsily took you into his arms and stood up. han had already returned to his seat on the couch when you arrived. the water was gone from his lap and the glass pieces gathered on a tissue paper on the coffee table. he made space for you to lay down, your head on jisung's lap and your legs curled to your chest. the television program switched from commercials to an old drama show that was surprisingly intriguing. at least the human-spoken dialogues were better white noises than loopy commercial jingles.

"they puked and started crying," jisung informed.

"all of a sudden?" han scoffed out a chuckle.

he glanced down at you and frowned when he caught jisung secretly taking the sickness from you through his palm on the side of your head. you three have agreed to cut down on healing you at any minor inconveniences to hone your resilience. besides, it was ironic that they wanted to be like other regular kids but wouldn't let simple things like a bloodied knee and catching a cold happen to you. your chest heaved according to your hiccups–you're just beginning to calm down from crying. han looked away from jisung's hand and decided he'd say something.

"changbin is gonna be upset when he comes back and finds out [name] doesn't need the medicine anymore."

jisung froze in surprise. he snapped his head to pull a face. "how would you know? are you two best friends?"

"he's always upset." han shrugged.

"i think that's just his face."

han waited a moment before he laughed. "he does look upset all the time."

"oh hey, here," the pharmacist said, holding out a small box of allergy pills. "seems like you need it."

changbin tilted his head with furrowed brows, his hand letting go of the cash in his wallet. "what?"

"you kept sneezing. it might be allergies," the pharmacist said. "either that, or someone is talking about you."

changbin sent a half glare toward the man. he didn't believe in those superstitions.

"give me the pills."

[kevin-sedai]

I am shaking at a frequency that could shatter GLASS right now. I didn't realize how excited seeing Rand that red coat would make me. Josha is gonna kill it.😭😭😭😭🥹🥹🥹

[somebluemelodies]

shaking and vibrating at frequencies that could shatter glass right now WHAT THE FUCK AAAAAAA

[jjunieworld]

what’s your fave ethel cain song?

ask game!! ♡( ◡‿◡ ) or at least i’m assuming this was for the ask game lmao

*shakes at a frequency that could shatter glass* i LOVE this question hehe i’m sooo normal about it

it’s like impossible to choose just one of her songs as a favorite for me, so i’m gonna give you my top 3 (in no specific order)!

family tree (intro) — i love love LOVEE this song so much and it’s such a good opener to her preacher’s daughter album and really sets the vibe of what you’re in for with the story!! also they lyricism in this song is literally some of the best that i’ve ever heard (*♡∀♡) like “jesus can always reject his father, but he cannot escape his mother’s blood. he’ll scream and try to wash it off of his fingers, but he’ll never escape what he’s made up of.” LIKE HELLO????? my jaw literally dropped when i first heard this song. hehe i love it so much it’s my pinned on my fic reblogs account :3

two-headed mother — this one is from her ep, so i don’t think as many people are aware of it, but it’s such a good song omg!!! it kinda has the same vibes as ptolemaea so if you really like that song this song is like that one’s little sister!! again—and this is gonna be with all of ethel cain’s songs—but the LYRICSSSS!!!!!! “you think that you create the waves, but i create you. two-headed mother in your bed… you know she hates you.” enough said. i love it (⌒‿⌒)

gibson girl — THIS SONGGGGGG!!!!!!!! firstly, it being named gibson girl… absolutely genius of ethel. secondly, i really like the sound and how distorted and dark it is, yet ethel (the character) tries really really hard to make it all seem romantic as she’s literally losing herself at the actions of the man she trusted. how she literally repeats what he says to her (at the beginning: “and he says to me, “baby, if it feels good, then it can’t be bad.” where i can be immoral in a strangers lap.” to at the end: “and if it feels good, then it can’t be bad. where i can be immoral in a strangers lap.”) and sort of accepts her fate… the storytelling in this song is amazing along with the vocals that kinda feel drowned out.

sorry this was so long omg,,, i just really love ethel cain and her music a lot!! hehe i hope this answered your question! ♡

[ragsdolly]

MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM. https://youtu.be/Ap2wPx1_CSk?si=MklLyv6xnS-39kN8

I'M MAKING IT KNOW TO EVERYONE THAT THIS ISSS PEAK BUTTONBLOSSOM!!! EVERYONE NEEDS TO LISTEN TO THIS!!! IT'S TOOOO UNDERRATED!!!!

-ADHD!!

buttonblossom fan song??! Starts shaking at a frequency that could shatter glass,

[stormyoceans]

SCREAMING SHAKING CRYING THROWING UP ALL THE BLOOD IN MY BODY SPINNING COUNTERCLOCKWISE ON THE FLOOR WAILING WEEPING BITING SCREECHING SHITTING MYSELF VIBRITING AT A FREQUENCY THAT COULD SHATTER GLASS ASCENDING TO A HIGHER PLANE OF EXISTENCE SEEING GOD