#sorry I’m slow with asks I try to answer them as often as possible

[za-ra-h]

Thank you very much for answering Zara!!! Every time I want to relax I come back to see your drawings, as soon as I get a new job I'll join your patreon, besides the content I would love to support you at least a little!!!

Aw thank you that’s very sweet!! Patrons help me keep going with making more art!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blind Offer 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After a leak causes you to evacuate your apartment, your landlord offers a vacant unit that’s too good to be true. (short!plus!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, additional characters to come

Note:  This is one of my Corrupt-A-Wish requests but I won’t reveal which one right away because it’ll be part of the plot!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖

You come out of work exhausted. The back to school crowd is still in full effect and infringing on your stocking time. Rather than pop your earbud in and lose yourself in barcodes and inventory counts, you more often found yourself searching out a salesman or running to the back to grab a device yourself.

You yawn into the crook of your elbow, feet carrying you out of routine rather than any coherent thought. There’s a flash of headlights as you pass a car idling along the pick up area and you slow down as you squint at the tinted windshield. The interior bulb flicks on and Steve leans forward, giving you a look through the glass as if you should be expecting him.

You slow down and approach the driver’s side as he rolls down the window. You lean in and give a sheepish smile, “uh, I…”

“Didn’t text?” He finishes your sentence, “I figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, you didn’t–”

“Have to come get you. Yeah, I figured you’d say that again. Really, it’s kind of selfish on my part. Thinking of you waiting in the dark alone, it’s kind of my fault you even have to so I can at least give you a lift.”

“That’s… nice of you but tomorrow, I can catch a bus.”

“If you insist,” he shrugs, “I won’t twist your arm with my kindness.”

You laugh softly, unsure of his humour. It’s more akin to passive aggression. As if even thinking of passing up his offer is an insult. Wouldn’t it be worse to use him for free rides? You’re already getting to stay in a property well above your lease value.

“You gonna get in?” He prompts.

“Yeah, sure, sorry, I–”

“Hey, thanks for the help on that Lenovo,” Remo calls as he walks out the front doors, shooting you a three finger wave, “not bad for a warehouse jockey.”

“No problem. Have a good night,” you wave back.

You skirt around the hood of the car and grab the door handle. It snaps back and you wait until the locks clack back loudly. You get in and gently shut the door. You unreel the seat belt as Steve adjusts his rearview.

“You got a lot of friends at work?” He asks as he shifts gear, resting his toe lightly on the gas.

“Eh, I guess,” you lean your arm on the door, “busy day. Did a lot of running around.”

“Huh, yeah, maybe I should stop in tomorrow. Need some stuff for a few units. Got a security cam I need to replace and– you got appliances, don’t you?” He rambles over the steering wheel.

“Yeah, uh, I think. Mostly to order,” you rest your cheek against your knuckles and watch how you pass in and out of the yellow cones cast by streetlights. “I guess you’re still looking for a new washer then?”

“Well, they don’t make the same model anymore. Space is pretty compact which means I need something with the same dimensions. I’m shopping around,” He taps his fingers on the wheel, “I’ll figure it out.” 

You nod and give a hum. No use worrying too much about it. You only rent the place, it’s really not your problem to think about the washer. He did say it already had issues before you.

“So, how do you like the place?” He asks abruptly.

“Huh, oh, yeah, it’s very nice. Big,” you answer nervously.

“Yeah, that one’ll go for a lot. A few showings but no bites yet. Probably won’t get anything until I can get you back to your place, heh,” he says the last part casually as if it isn’t directly aimed at you.

“Mmm, um, then I hope you find a washer soon,” you pull your arm away from the door and sit back in the seat. “I hate to be in the way.”

“In the way? I’m the landlord, I knew what I was getting into,” he assures you lightly, though it does little to assuage your doubts. “Oh, and since you didn’t really get a chance, I got a few groceries and left them at the place. Just to get you by.”

“You– Oh, gosh, how much do I owe you?”

“Consider us even. You’ve been pretty cooperative with all this back and forth, I’m the one who owes you.”

“Well, I don’t mind paying for my food–”

“Really, sweetheart, do you always react so adversely to kindness?”

“What? I’m not– no.”

“I’m being nice. I can tell you, there’s not a lot of landlords out there like me. I actually enjoy helping my tenants…” he turns onto a dark street and you shiver. You’ve never been down this way but you don’t live on this side of town. “I always said, whatever you need, just ask.”

“Sure, um, thanks,” you murmur.

He turns back onto a lit avenue as a glint of light flickers over him and draws your eyes. You catch him peeking at you, his blue eye reflecting the flash before he can look back at the road ahead. You shiver and cross your arms. It didn’t seem like he was looking at your face.

“Fresh sheets on the bed too. Hope you don’t mind, I did a once over when you were gone. Just to make sure I didn’t miss anything. Quick vacuum and all that.”

“It’s your place,” you say, “I’ll be sure to leave it how I found it.”

He inhales, deep enough for you to hear, “I know. You’re not a troublemaker, are you?”

You swallow and furrow your brow at the dashboard. Again, it’s not just his words but his vague tone. You don’t understand the question.

“Good girl like you always pays her rent on time,” he praises, “I can tell you, that’s not always the case.”

You let out a breath, “oh, aha, yeah, well, scheduled payments… technology, right?”

“Mhmm,” he sucks his teeth and lets his arm rest on the console between the seats, ”it’s so easy to be lazy these days.”

🖤

Steve walks you up to the front door. Just in case you can’t get the code right, he claims. You get it on the first try and thank him. Again. He lingers, as if reluctant to leave you, as if he’s expecting to come inside with you. Almost as if you should invite him in.

You say good night and lock the door behind you. You take your time untying your black sneakers and hang your hoodie on the coat rack. When you dare to peek out the window, he’s only just striding down the path back to his car.

It’s slightly creepy but then you feel guilty, thinking maybe you were being rude not asking him in for a tea or something. You don’t know. This whole situation is awkward as hell.

You wander into the kitchen, your stomach growling from the measly microwave dinner you ate on your break. Steve’s ‘small shop’ is much more generous than you expect. Overdoing it seems to be a trait of his.

You read the side of the organic milk in the curved bottle. You know that it costs three times as much as your usual carton of skim. And the greek yogurt, definitely expensive. All brand names, none of the generic discount bin goodies you thrive on.

You let the fridge close as you take out the boxed butternut squash soup. Fancy, you think as you peruse the label. Gourmet, so it claims. You put some in a small pot and heat it up on the gas burner. As you do, you thumb through your phone, pacing around between stirring the thick orange puree.

You eat rich soup with a brioche bun from the market bag. You’re thankful now Steve didn’t ask for compensation, you’re not sure you could foot that bill. And to think, after him praising your timely payments, you would default on a grocery receipt.

You shut off the lights downstairs and flip on the sconce above the staircase and follow it up to the second floor. You come down the hall with a yawn, the bedroom door open and waiting for you. Your duffel is on the dresser where you left it.

You sift around for a loose tee shirt to sleep in and pull out your toiletry bag. You go into the bathroom and change before unzipping the pouch. You take out your cleanser and wash your face over the sink. You pause as you drop the bottle through the open mouth of the blush coloured bag, a fuchsia shape poking out from under your mouthwash.

You reach in and retrieve your bullet vibrator. What the hell? You definitely don’t remember packing that in your hasty evacuation. Besides, why would you put it in there? You shake your head and drop it back to the bottom. 

You pat your face dry and take out your tweezers, cleaning up your brows and a few vagrant hairs along your chin. You put them away then ply on your night cream, making a face at yourself as you brush your teeth. You flip the switch off and use the light on your phone to find your way to bed. 

You lay awake for almost an hour. You’ve never been good at sleeping in strange places. The house feels so empty it’s eerie. Your ears are pricked for any noise but there isn’t much. The walls are so thick, you don’t even hear the rustling of the tree that casts a shadow through the window or the chirp of crickets. Despite its luxury, the house is desolate.

Your eyelids start to itch and you feel your muscles ease. You start to drift down, a slow swirling descent that tingles in your sockets. That shell starts to encase you, little by little, paralysing you as it drags you down.

BANG!

It isn’t loud but sudden. The dull noise jars you up, chasing away the advance of your fatigue. You look around, heart beating wildly, searching for the source. It sounded close but you can’t be sure. It could’ve been all in your mind as you tiptoed the threshold of your unconscious.

You bounce to the edge of the bed and stand, wobbling through the dark until you find the switch by the door. The light shines out around you as you stop in the doorway, glancing trepidatiously towards the stairs. You near the top and turn on the next light, a cautious progress through the spacious house.

You go down each step, one at a time, and when you get to the bottom, you illuminate the entryway too, the front room, and finally the kitchen. There’s nothing there. You didn’t really expect to find anything. The noise felt much closer to the bedroom.

You return to the second floor, shutting off the lights along the way, and you peer down the hallway. You didn’t check up here. You pad along the soft runner rug and peek into the bathroom before you approach the closed door of the study.

You touch the handle and a zing of fear courses through you. You should just go back to bed. You don’t need to know.

You turn it and inch inside, snaking your other hand in to flick on the lights. The same. Nothing there. You shut the door and proceed to the second bedroom, the door is slightly ajar so you kick it open with your foot and let the light in the hallway pour in. Empty.

You’re imagining things. It’s being in this strange house. Whenever you stayed the night at your grandmother’s it was the same thing. If you weren’t awake, waiting for the creaks of the house to prove something sinister, you were trapped in shallow night terrors that felt too real.

You return to the bedroom. You don’t turn off the light right away. You grab your charger and plug in your phone, opening up the white noise app you never used. You scroll through the choices with their dreamy names; serenity, fantasy, rejuvenation…

Your thumb hovers over the start button as you hear something else. Muffled and hollow. You frown, you can’t tell if it’s real or your mind playing tricks. There’s such a surreal distant effect to the scream that you can’t be sure it’s not some stray cat yowling in the street. The silence that ensues feeds your doubt. You’re looking for peculiarities, that’s all.

You press play on the soothing wishing noises and set your phone on the night table. You get up to shut off the lights and quickly nestle into bed, pulling a pillow over your head to block out the room. You just need to make it through the first night.

🖤

The next day, you leave earlier than usual. The change in your bus route and prospect of a narrow transfer from one bus to the next, has you anxious. Before you leave, you double check that you have your bus pass and some spare change just in case. You hook your bag around your shoulder, the security system announcing your exit; ‘front door open’.

You pull the door shut and hit the lock icon on the pad. You test the handle to make sure it’s closed and for a moment, you’re disoriented as you hear the door unlock but it doesn’t budge. You frown and look up as a shadow emerges from the unit next to yours. It wasn’t your door.

A man with long brown hair poking out from under a ball cap turns to punch in his code before locking it. The pad flashes red confirming the door is secured. He scowls at the handle as he drops his arm straight, his hand balling to a fist as he mutters.

“Morning,” you greet, the typical squeaky greeting you give to your neighbours.

He winces and turns as he looks up at you. You must’ve surprised him. You give an apologetic wave and tight-lipped smile. His blue eyes shock you, bold but bright in his chiseled face. He tilts his head slightly before he spins without response and stalks away. You watch his broad shoulders as he marches across the street without looking.

Not the friendliest of neighbours but the first one you’ve encountered. It’s a little less offputting knowing you’re not the only one around. You let out a long breath and make your way down the paved pathway to the sidewalk. You peek back at the unit next door. The curtains are drawn and the place looks dark even at the peak of day.

You shrug it off. You should only be there for a couple more days. That’s it. That’s all you have to get through.

[just-your-casual-nerd]

Can you possibly do a gwendoline/ or one of her characters comforting you after getting out of surgery please?

I just had surgery for the first time yesterday and I was stuck all alone and my nurse wasn’t really the nicest 😅 I just need some comfort in my life 😅❤️

I don’t normally do this kind of thing, then again, I've never had anyone ask me to write before. So, I'm going to give this a try and hope it turns out ok. Also, this was not beta read, so I’m sorry for all the spelling mistakes you'll probably find. I have chosen to write about Larissa x reader, I hope you like Anon! 

Warnings: Sickness, hospitals, lots of love from Larissa ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're Not Alone  

When you woke up Tuesday morning you knew something was wrong. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, you were nauseous and lightheaded, and it felt like someone had stabbed you in your abdomen.  

It took all of your strength to just sit up on your pillows and look at your clock. Four thirty am shown brightly at you in bright red, causing you to turn your head away as a migraine started to form.  

Slowly, you turned your body towards the other side of your bed, facing the wall. Closing your eyes, you tiredly grabbed at your blankets around you and brought them up to your chin, shielding you from the world around you. Slowly you fall into a restless sleep as the world went dark around you.  

Sometime later you awoke to a banging on door and someone calling out your name. You tried to say something, but with every move you made it felt like you were going to die. The pain had increased ten-fold as though you were getting stabbed by a million tiny needles at once. 

Your throat was dry, and you could only let out a pained moan. Everything was blurry around you, and the last thing you heard was the door opening, your name being yelled, and a tall figure running towards you as your vision went black.  

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

You could hear this annoying beeping sound on the right side of your head. The bed you were in felt uncomfortable, the blankets were itchy, and something was weighing your left hand down, holding it in a tight grip.  

You weren't in your room; you could tell that right away. But where were you? The last thing you remember was terrible pain and someone yelling your name.  

Before you opened your eyes you tried to listen to the world around you. Besides the annoying beeping you could hear distant noises, people talking, and alarms going off. The air around you smelt like disinfectant, bleach and someone’s sweet perfume.  

Were you in a hospital? 

You could hear someone on the left side of you, and every so often a sound like a page being moved could be heard.  

Who could that be? 

You slowly turned your head to whoever was holding your hand and you slowly opened your eyes. What you saw next made your whole world stand still.  

Your principal, the allusive Larissa Weems sat next to you in what looked like a horribly uncomfortable white chair. Her hair was in her usual up do, her makeup perfect, yet you could see slight exhaustion written on her face as though she hadn't slept properly in days.  

All you could do was stare at her as she read whatever book was in her hand. Her face held a slight frown as though it was taking everything in her to read the words on the pages in front of her.  

It felt like hours as you watched her, memorizing every detail on her face, though it was probably only a few seconds until she noticed you.  

As her eyes met yours you saw the relief flood through them, and a slow smile grace her face. She sat up straighter, with her empty hand, she set her book on the floor and slowly leaned towards you. Now grasping your hand with both of hers, giving it a little kiss.  

“Y/n...you had me so worried darling. Are you ok?” 

You opened your mouth and tried to answer her, but all that escaped your mouth was cough. Your throat felt like sandpaper.  

Her eyes widened a little and her hands left yours as she moved to grab a glass of water for you. Once she had a cup of water in her hand, she brought it up to your mouth and you took a sip, feeling better now that your throat wasn’t as dry.  

Satisfied that you had drank enough water, she put the cup down on the table near your bed and grasped your hands in hers again.  

“wha...what happened? Where am I?”  

Larissa's face turned back to a frown at your questions.  

 “Darling, you're in the hospital. Your appendix burst, you had to go into surgery so they could remove what was left of it. But you're ok now, honey. They were able to remove it and said you will make a full recovery.”  

You were in shock. Your appendix burst? How? When? Is that why you were in pain? All these questions and more flooded your brain, but you settled on one to ask her.  

“How long have I been here?”  

Larissa looked away for a moment as she settled back into her chair. Facing you once more she took a breath and said, “Honey, you’ve been here four days. It was serious, but everything is ok. I'm here for you, your safe and sound.”  

Four days. You’ve been in the hospital for four days. All you could think about was the amount of homework you had piling up and all the things that you were missing out on. How were you going to take care of yourself when you got out of the hospital? What was going to happen next... 

Larissa could see the panic written across your face as your mind went ten thousand miles per minute. She could see the tears start to glisten your eyes and she knew she had to do something to calm you down. To show you that she was here for you, and you weren't going to be alone. 

She got up, and gently put her hands on your cheeks and leaned down giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead.  

Your mind went blank as you stared up at her and she smiled down at you.  

Still holding your head in her hands, she gently whispered to you; “Its ok darling. You're not alone, I'm here for you and we will get you through this together. You're not alone, love.”  

She leaned in to kiss your forehead one more time and you closed your eyes, knowing everything would be alright.  

[stevenssticks]

okay since you write for Dave … js imagining this with him but it’s sooo cliche . ☹️☹️ but it’s hot js hear me out !!

Your Dave’s gbsf , met a while ago but the era I’m thinking for this is 1992 , basically you’ve been to his house / apt ( whatever you want ) a lot of times . Y’all have cuddled so closely , but never fucked yk ? 🤷🏾‍♀️ anyways one days ur waiting for Dave to come back cuz he let you borrow his keys

Anyways he comes home Earlier than expected … ( I think we all know where this is going ) he heard his name obvi and he finds you …. Uhh you knoww 😁😁 … anyways you get up very embarrassed and surprised ! 🤭🤭 so a few seconds after you get up you try to leave but he corners you against the wall and just spurts out “how often do you touch yourself???” Your baffled , but ya don’t wanna respond but at the same time .. this is very hot . Anyways sooo your like “Dave what??” He goes “you heard me.” You go “uhh I don’ always do that” he GOESSS “your lying, such a slut” you might’ve created a very visible wet spot down there … 🤥🤥🫣 anyways so than y’all js go at it then and there 🤗 . This was very rushed but yeah !!

- 🌎 Anon

prompts like this are always my fav and for what…. like i love writing bsfs to lovers etc more than established relationship stuff and THIS TROPE IS SOOOOO🫣🫣🫣 idc if it’s cliche it’s so hot. however i’m gonna go a slightly more sappy/romantic route w this cuz i think it suits this a lot better for like a first time yk.

i’m imagining This Dave for this ask bc mghhhghmm it’s my favorite. anywayyyy

so ur waiting for dave to come home. you two have been friends for a while now and there’s this unspoken tension between the two of you. you’ve gotten so close atp. you two travel together and just get a king size bed, not a double. when you come over, you sleep in his bed as well. you wind up on top of him, his strong arms wrapped around you, face pressed into his chest and his big hand on the back of your head. giving your head some scratches.

you don’t expect dave to be home for another hour and a half. you get bored of watching tv, moseying your way over into dave’s bedroom and flopping down onto the mattress. you look up at the ceiling. your hands lightly run over your body, and slowly wander to the band of your shorts. your fingers rub over your clit as your eyes close, letting out a breath before your thoughts wander. you imagine it was dave’s hands touching you. your lips part as you think about his fingers fucking you nice and slow. whispering in your ear how good you’re doing, how tight you are around his fingers. you kick off your shorts and underwear, taking your other hand and pushing your shirt up to play with your nipples.

“dave…” you murmur, and then two of your fingers plunge inside of you. “dave-!”

and then the door slams open.

“hello-? oh. oh wow. okay.” dave is standing in the doorway. mouth open so wide it looks like his jaw might dislocate. you are paralyzed on dave’s bed, right hand covering yourself while the other reaches for your shorts to pull them back on.

“fuck, dave. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry… oh my god. i’m gonna head out. okay? yeah. i’m gonna leave.” you pull your shorts and underwear back on as quick as possible before jumping off the bed and trying to run past him, but dave grabs your hand.

“how often do you do this?” his eyes are boring into yours. you avert yours quickly. face feeling even hotter than it already was.

“what?”

“i said how often do you do this? in my bed.”

“dave, i don’t- i cant.”

“i think you can, honey. tell me.”

“i don’ do it often… i swear. it was the heat of the moment. god, can i just leave? i’m sorry-“

“can i kiss you?” dave is staring at you so intensely, and you don’t even feel like answering. you practically lunge at him, grabbing his face and dragging him to your level so you can smash your lips into his, wet and messy. dave groans into the kiss, grabbing your hips and then moving one hand down to your ass and squeezing, then lifting you up. you open your mouth in a gasp. dave takes this opportunity to dip his tongue into your mouth, plush lips moulding against yours so perfectly.

dave moves you to the bed, laying you down gently and crawling over you, continuing to kiss you as he does so. he doesn’t wanna let you go for a second. he’s been waiting for this too long. wanting you for too long. he makes sure to express this to you.

“fuck… you sounded so pretty saying my name like that… wanted this for so long. think about you all the time.” you’re shaking in his arms at this point, unable to believe this is really happening. “take those pretty shorts off for me.”

you immediately start shimmying your shorts down your legs, dave sitting up to aid you in sliding them off, leaving your panties on, a small patch of wetness visible from the outside. dave just stares for a moment, making you cover your eyes in embarrassment, and then slides down onto his stomach. he reaches up to grab your arms and pull them down so he can interlock your fingers before leaning down and licking right over your clothed cunt. you let out a whine, which he responds with squeezing your hands and licking again, this time more firmly. he lets one of your hands go to then pull your panties to the side and attach his mouth to your clit, sucking hard.

your back arches and you crane your head back, mouth opening wide and letting out a moan so loud you know the neighbors heard it. you’re too far gone to care. dave is switching between sucking your clit and fucking you with his tongue. then he moves the hand not holding yours to plunge two fingers inside you, just like you had thought about earlier. you squeal, resulting in dave moaning into your pussy, which just makes you even louder. dave is french kissing your cunt now, tongue running all over, spit and your juices running down his chin and smearing on his cheeks and nose. he’s so sloppy with it, so messy. you’re so close, you squeeze his hand hard.

“dave… gonna cum-“ you reach down and pull his hair with your free hand, legs locking around his head, keeping him in place. dave looks up at you, lips soaked and pretty pink, pupils dilated, eyelids low. he’s properly drunk on the taste of you, and the sight pushes you over the edge. “oh fuck… oh fuck…!! i’m cumming!” and that’s it. white light flashes behind your eyelids and fireworks shoot up your spine, your clit aching in dave’s mouth, legs shaking around his head. dave’s fingers slow their movements inside you, until he finally eases them out of you. you can’t keep your eyes open, breathing still heavy. dave nudges your legs off his shoulders, crawling up to kiss you, warm and deep.

“did so good for me. taste so good. enjoy yourself, honey?”

“mhm…” you kiss him again. you can taste yourself on his lips. and then you feel his hardness nudging at your thigh.

you’re not done yet.

—

OWAAHBJCJM okay i told myself i wouldn’t be answering any more asks then i saw this in my inbox and folded. anyways. hope you enjoyed<3

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three (Book 1) Chapter Fifteen

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Chapter Fifteen: The Smith

Summary: (Y/N) meets another Mandalorian and finds Mando once more.

            Karga shone a flashlight ahead of him, Cara, and (Y/N) as they walked through the abandoned sewer system of Nevarro. Cara held the Child as he fussed, and (Y/N) held their blaster tightly, glancing back every-so-often as if Mando would turn the corner and be back with him. But he was in the bar with IG, bleeding out.

            As if in answer to their silent hope, an explosion rang out, and (Y/N), Cara, and Karga whirled on the sound. A flashlight beam curved around the corner as two figures walked towards.

            It was IG and Mando.

            (Y/N) ran up to Mando. “You’re alright!” The Child babbled happily at Mando’s return.

            Mando groaned, clearly still injured. “Apparently.”

            (Y/N) could have hugged him they were so relieved.

            “I got you,” said Cara, supporting Mando on her shoulder after she handed the Child to IG.

            “We need to keep moving,” said Karga.

            (Y/N) hovered around Mando in case he needed help as Cara led the way as Mando directed them.

            “Do you know which way to go?” asked Karga.

            “No, I don’t know these tunnels,” said Mando. “I’ve only entered from the bazzar.”

            “Well, if we get the smell of sulfur and follow it, it’ll lead us up to the plains where the river flowers,” said Karga.

            “The imps will catch us before we make it to the Razorcrest,” said (Y/N).

            “We need the Mandalorians to escort us to safety,” said Mando.

            “This place is a maze,” said Cara as they continued through tunnels.

            “Wait. Stop,” said Mando suddenly. He lifted his arm from Cara’s shoulders. “I can stand.”

            “The bacta infusion is working,” said IG.

            “I’ll try to find tracks,” said Mando. He looked at the ground as his visor scanned. “We’re close.” He turned and led them down a corridor. “Turn here.” He slowed to a stop as they entered empty barracks. A pile of discarded helmets lay in a pile on the floor. He went to his knees before it to pay tribute to the lost Mandalorians.

            (Y/N) swallowed and stepped forward. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, Mando.”

            Cara put her hand on Mando’s shoulder. “We should go.”

            “You go. Take the ship and the kids. I can’t leave it this way,” said Mando. He looked back at Karga and spoke angrily. “Did you know? Is this the work of your bounty hunters?”

            “No,” said Karga, completely honest. “When you left the system and took the kids, the fighting ended, and the hunters just melted away. You know how it is. They’re mercenaries. They’re not zealots.”

            Mando didn’t believe him. He stood and jabbed Karga in the chest. “Did you do this? Did you?!”

            “No!” cried Karga.

            “It was not his fault,” said a smooth, calm voice.

            (Y/N) and everyone else turned to see a Mandalorian with a golden helmet, red armor, and a fur lining around her neck. The Armorer.

            “We revealed ourselves,” she said. “We knew what could happen if we left the covert.” She picked up a piece of broken armor. “The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter. This is what resulted.”

            “Did any survive?” asked Mando, hesitating a moment at the possible answer.

            “I hope so. Some may have escaped off-world,” said the Armorer, loading pieces of armor into a cart by her side.

            “Come with us,” said Mando.

            “No,” said the Armorer. “I will not abandon this place until I have salvaged what remains.” She pushed her cart into the armory, and Mando followed. The Armorer began placing metal plates into the furnace to melt. As the others filed in, the Armorer spoke. “Show me the ones whose safety deemed such destruction.”

            IG moved forward with the Child strapped to his chest. (Y/N) stepped out, squaring their shoulders and refusing to be intimidated (even though the Armorer was quite intimidating).

            “These are the ones,” said Mando. “The Child and (Y/N).”

            The Armorer moved to take a closer look at them. “These are the ones you hunted, then saved?”

            “Yes. They saved me as well,” said Mando.

            “From the mudhorn?” confirmed the Armorer.

            “Yes,” acknowledged Mando.

            “How did you and the Child save him?” asked the Armorer, turning to (Y/N).

            “We can…move things with our minds,” said (Y/N). “Sometimes, at least.”

            The Armorer nodded and returned to her work. “I know of such things.”

            (Y/N) straightened in surprise. Kuiil had heard rumors, but to know that someone had actual information was unusual.

            “The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore the Great and an order of sorcerers called ‘Jedi’ that fought with such powers,” said the Armorer.

            Mando paused. “They are not our enemies.”

            “I wouldn’t hurt Mando,” said (Y/N) urgently.

            “No,” agreed the Armorer. “Your kind are enemies, but you and the Child, as individuals, are not.”

            “So…what are they?” asked Mando.

            “They are foundlings,” said the Armorer matter-of-factly. “I’m sure you know that.” She knew Mando had stuck by them and grown to care for them as foundlings. She, as the covert Armorer, acknowledging it simply made it official. “By Creed, they are in your care.”

            “I have begun to train (Y/N), but the Child is too young, and I cannot help with their…sorcery,” said Mando.

            “You have no choice. You must reunite them with their own kind,” said the Armorer.

            Find “Jedi?” (Y/N) considered. On the one hand, being able to use their abilities would be helpful, and they always felt right when they connected to the strange power. On the other hand, they didn’t want to leave Mando. (Y/N) liked him. They cared about him. He actually protected them and taught them. He was the only semblance of a family they had. He and the Child were the only people they had. (Y/N) frowned as their stomach twisted.

            “Where?” asked Mando.

            “This, you must determine,” said the Armorer as she poured molten metal into a mold.

            “You expect me to search the galaxy and deliver (Y/N) and the Child to a race of enemy sorcerers?” asked Mando.

            The Armorer turned towards them holding a thin hammer. “This is the Way.”

            “Hey,” said Cara, interrupting the discussion. “These tunnels will be lousy with imps in a matter of minutes. We should at least discuss an escape plan.”

            “If you follow the descending tunnel, it will lead you to the underground river,” said the Armorer. “It flows downstream toward the lava flats.”

            “I think we should go,” said Karga.

            “I’m staying,” said Mando.

            “What?” asked (Y/N), turning to him in astonishment. He was going to get himself killed!

            “I need to help her, and I need to heal. You will be safe with Cara, Verd’ika,” said Mando.

            “You must go,” said the Armorer. She saw the bond Mando had created with the children. He saw them as foundlings long before she announced them as such. He called (Y/N) “Verd’ika,” a Mando’a nickname. He made sure the Child was safely removed from harm’s way. Mando had to go with them. “The foundlings are in your care. By Creed, until they are of age or reunited with their own kind, you are as their father.”

            (Y/N) had been lost in considering whether Jedi could be their “kind” because they had been Ushti, part of the Hilo Clan, part of their parent’s little family, so when the Armorer said Mando was like their father, they were jolted in surprise. The pain of the loss of their parents still weighed heavily on their shoulders, but Mando…if (Y/N) could choose someone to be their family, it would be Mando.

            Mando himself was surprised by the blunt assessment of his bond with his foundlings. The Armorer was right, Mando treated (Y/N) and the Child like his own, but to hear it out loud was still significant. He found himself gazing at the Child and (Y/N). The Child cooed happily, and (Y/N) was gazing at him with a vulnerability they rarely showed. Yes. Mando was as their father. He would not attempt to take such a role outright, he wouldn’t push that onto (Y/N), but he would protect them as such anyways.

            “This is the Way,” said the Armorer. She turned, holding her finished work. “You have earned your signet.” She walked to Mando’s side and welded a small piece of metal into his shoulder plate. “You are a Clan of Three.” A small mudhorn silhouette was grafted onto his armor.

            “Thank you,” said Mando, gazing at his foundlings. “I will wear this with honor.”

            From farther away in the sewer tunnels, muffled explosions echoed down to them. Gideon’s men were catching up. It was time to go or fight.

            “We should go,” said Karga sagely.

            “IG, please guard the outer hallway,” instructed the Armorer. “A scouting party draws near.” IG handed the Child to (Y/N) and walked out of the smith. “I have one more gift for your journey. Have you trained in the Rising Phoenix?”

            “When I was a boy. Yes,” answered Mando.

            “Then this will make you complete.” She picked up and held out a jetpack to Mando.

            “Thank you,” he said.

            “When you have healed, you will begin your drills,” instructed the Armorer. “Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands.”

            “I understand,” said Mando.

            In the tunnels, blaster fire echoed. The fight and the stormtroopers were almost there. A thud sounded, and everyone tensed, but IG turned the corner.

            “You are protected,” said IG.

            “More will come. You must go,” said the Armorer.

            “Come with us,” asked Mando once more.

            “My place is here,” said the Armorer. “Restock your munitions.” Mando obeyed while the Armorer handed the jetpack to IG. “IG, carry this for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it.” She turned back to Mando. “Now, go. Down to the river and across the plains. Be safe on your journey.”

            “Thank you,” said Mando.

            “Thank you,” said (Y/N), speaking up once more. The Armorer inclined her helmet in a nod of acknowledgement.

            With that, the group left the room and continued on through the tunnels. The corridor sloped downwards until they reached the lava river and a small boat with a droid driver. Unfortunately…

            “The ferry droid is fried,” said Mando.

            “Yeah, but if we push the boat out, we can get it to float downstream,” said Karga. “Come on.” He began pushed on the boat.

            “Looks old. Will it take the heat?” asked Mando.

            “I don’t think we have an option,” said (Y/N).

            “No, we don’t,” admitted Mando, crouching to help Karga. When the boat didn’t move, Mando grabbed a large piece of metal to wedge under the boat.

            Cara rolled her eyes. “You guys mind getting out of the way?” She lifted her blaster. She fired at the bottom of the boat so where it was fused slightly to the stone landing it broke off.

            “Good idea,” said (Y/N) as they and the rest of the group boarded quickly before the boat drifted away.

            “Watch your feet. It’s molten lava,” advised IG.

            “No kidding,” said Cara.

            A sudden beep sounded, and everyone whirled with their blaster out. The droid at the back of the boat had lit up, slightly alive still. It pushed the rocks away from it and stood tall, towering over them. It lifted a long metal pole before beeping.

            “I don’t suppose anyone here speaks droid?” asked Mando.

            “I believe he is asking where we would like to go,” said IG.

            “Downriver. To the lava flats,” instructed Karga.

            The droid chirped and began pushing the boat alone with its metal pole. The group holstered their weapons and gazed out at the tunnel before them. This was their chance. It was their only chance. If they didn’t get over the lava plains, they would die, and (Y/N) and the Child would be taken by Gideon.

            “That’s it!” Karga pointed to a sliver of light appearing in the distance. “We’re free!”

            Mando stepped forward and used his heat scanner to look forward. “No. No, we’re not. Stormtroopers. They’re flanking the mouth of the tunnel. It’s an entire platoon. They must know we’re coming.”

            (Y/N)’s hands curled into fists, and they held the Child tighter. Gideon had figured it out. He was waiting for them. (Y/N) felt a deep anger and desire to escape rise inside them, but they weren’t sure what hope they had with the stormtroopers awaiting them.

            “Stop the boat,” said Cara, trying to order the droid. It kept pushing. “Hey, droid, I said stop the boat! Hey, I’m talking to you!” She lifted her blaster. “I said stop!” She fired a charge, and the droid’s head popped off. The boat’s progress slowed, but the flow of lava was still pushing them slowly to their doom.

            “We’re still moving,” said Karga worriedly.

            “The lava is pushing us,” muttered (Y/N).

            “Looks like we fight,” said Cara.

            “There are too many,” said Mando.

            “Then what do you suggest? ‘Cause I can’t surrender,” said Cara.

            “I’d rather die than let Gideon use me,” said (Y/N) fiercely.

            “You’re not dying,” said Mando sharply.

            “They will not be satisfied with anything less than the children,” said IG. “This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy, and you will escape.”

            “You don’t have that kind of firepower, pal,” said Mando. “You wouldn’t even get to daylight.”

            “That is not my objective,” corrected IG.

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow. “What?”

            “We’re getting close, saddle up,” warned Cara as their boat approached the mouth of the cave.

            “I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer,” explained IG. “If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct.”

            (Y/N) blinked. IG was going to…sacrifice himself.

            “What’re you talking about?” demanded Mando.

            “I am not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed,” said IG succinctly.

            “Are we gonna keep talking or get out of here?” asked Karga.

            IG held out the jetpack to Mando. “I can no longer carry this for you. Nor can I watch over the children.”

            “Wait. You can’t self-destruct,” said Mando, with a surprising amount of softness. He didn’t want IG to be destroyed. “Your base command is to watch the children. That supersedes your manufacturer’s protocol, right? Right?”

            “This is correct,” admitted IG.

            “Good. Now, grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out,” said Mando firmly.

            “Victory through combat is not possible,” said IG. “We will be captured. The children will be lost. Sadly, there is no scenario where the children are saved in which I survive.”

            (Y/N) gaze softened.

            “Listen, you’re not going anywhere,” said Mando stubbornly. “We need you. Let’s just come up with a—”

            IG continued, “Please tell me the children will be safe in your care. If you do so, I can default to my secondary command.”

            “But you’ll be destroyed…” said Mando softly.

            “And you will live, and I will have served my purpose,” said IG.

            “No. We need you,” repeated Mando.

            “There is nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive,” said IG.

            “I’m not sad,” lied Mando.

            “Yes, you are. I’m a nurse droid. I analyzed your voice,” said IG.

            (Y/N) looked at IG and nodded shortly at him. “Thank you. For everything.”

            “I have performed my duty,” said IG. The Child cooed, and he reached out to touch him for a moment before straightening. He walked to the edge of the boat.

            Mando moved to stop him, but (Y/N) spoke. “He wants an honorable death,” they said. And Mando stopped, understanding.

            IG climbed over the side of the boat into the lava river. Everyone watched in sadness as the brave droid walked to the entrance of the cave. Even as the lava ate at his metal joints, he pushed onwards. The stormtroopers aimed as IG emerged into sunlight. There was a moment of silence.

            And then IG exploded.

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite

[red-cape-morgana]

I Would Give It All Back Just To Have You (Pt5)

(Pt1) / (Pt2) / (Pt3) / (Pt4) / Ao3

She seems so peaceful, her chest rising and falling with the slow rhythm of sleep. She can’t see everything from where she stands, but she can spot the dark circles under the eyes, scratches on her cheekbone, and some bruises on her hands.

Nothing that can explain what happened.

“Tell me again what happened exactly,” Lena asks with her gaze steadily fixed on the sleeping form.

She hears a sigh and ruffling papers from behind her.

“Lena,” Alex said, trying to hide her frustration the best she could. “We’ve been over this for the last two hours. Do you think I would hide something from you?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Shit. The snarky comment had left her mouth before she could stop it.

“I’m sorry Alex,” Lena says, exhaustion creeping up in her voice. “It was a low blow, even for me. It’s just that I can’t believe it. She looks… she looks so peaceful, so like herself.”

She can hear footsteps coming closer and is not surprised when two hands softly hold her shoulders to make her turn around.

Alex looks older than ever before. More than during those nights spent working  in Lena’s lab, intoxicated more often than not. More than in the mornings following those nights, when the CEO had to help settle the agent on the cot in the furthest corner of the room before waking her up with coffee when duty required her.

But more than that, she looks broken. As if the last hope that had kept her going all this time to bring her sister back had finally been snuffed out. 

“Okay Luthor, but that’s the last time for today. After that, I bring you back to your place so you rest. And please do actually rest, otherwise Kelly will have both of our skins.”

Thinking back on when the woman had left them two hours ago, exasperated beyond measure, Lena could absolutely imagine her coming for them and sedating them so they would finally rest. Or do something more permanent.

“This is such a mess,” Alex grumbles to herself, rubbing her face.

“You tell me,” Lena answers with an eyeroll. 

“Hey, no need to be a smartass. Everything went wrong and unfolded too fast for us to react immediately. Which is why you got injured.”

Lena softens her stance a bit.

“Alex, you have no reason to feel guilty over that. We had no reason to believe…”

“It’s my job to anticipate danger Lena. I’m trained to assess any situation that is alien related, and it was a gross oversight on my part to treat this one any differently.’’

Taking a strangled breath, she adds ‘‘I just never imagined Kara, my sister…’’ 

Silence falls on them, the only noise breaking it being the regular beeping of the machines linked to Kara unconscious form in the other room. 

Lena lets the minutes roll, leaving the other woman time to gather her thoughts, and giving herself time to burn every single detail of the broken hero in her memory.

Alex clears her throat, catching her attention again.

“Kara came through the portal about a minute after it stabilized. She stumbled through it, immediately crumpling to the floor,” Alex said, her face distant, as if replaying the scene in her mind.

“Of course it wasn’t really that surprising. I mean, we don’t know what she’s been through all these months. Did she have to defend herself, what access she had to food and water, …”

The sun lamps in Kara’s room turned on at that moment, giving the sleeping hero the energy needed to keep the healing process going. And ensuring that Lena couldn’t keep staring unless wanting a bad case of uveitis and a major migraine.

When she turns her back to the room, her stomach tightens even more.

I’m failing her once more. What a great friend you are.

“You were the first to rush to her side, barely had she touched the ground that you were kneeling next to her,” Alex explains.

“But when you tried to help her up, things got wrong. Lena, I promise that we reacted as fast as possible, but you know Kara’s super speed.”

The brunette let out a dry chuckle at that.

“As a Luthor, I can’t say that many kryptonians have entrusted me with such knowledge.”

Alex doesn’t gratify her jab with an answer.

“When we saw her holding on to you, we all thought it was for comfort,” Alex sighs, continuing her retelling. 

“As I said before, we knew that the phantom zone would have had some psychological impact. What we didn’t see coming is the potential of aggression that would result from all that.”

Lena feels the bruises under her neck brace pulsing anew, as if Kara’s hands were still trying to crush her throat. And if Alex’s avoidance to look at her directly is anything to go by, Lena suspects that the marks are even worse than she has imagined.

Kara has attacked me.

Lena feels sick just to think that, the antithesis far more painful than any physical injury she has ever endured.

“In the blink of an eye you were sprawled on the floor, Kara on top and throttling you.”

Alex’s complexion seems to go greener by the seconds as she finally reaches the plot twist of the events. And Lena feels almost bad to put her through this. 

Almost.

“J’onn immediately grabbed her, dragging her away from you, but Lena she was feral. We thought at first that she was confused, delirious even, after everything she went through. But she was coherent. She knew our names, referred to past events, all while cursing and fighting us.”

Despite the blinding lights in Kara’s room, Alex steps closer, trying to conciliate what she had witnessed and the loving image of her little sister.

Lena knows what that feels like. 

After all she had adored Lex, had put him on a pedestal for most of their life. He had been a kind and protective boy, and the only Luthor truly welcoming her in their now shared family. Until he wasn’t. Paranoia had erased any trace of that brother who had stood up for her and protected her from any harm coming her way, and had replaced it by an irrational fear of aliens, and ultimately mass murder.

It’s not the time to get lost in the past, get a hold of yourself Lena!

“We had to sedate her, and decided that it’s the safest option for us all at the moment,” Alex continues. “She will have time to heal, and may be her normal self next time she wakes up. Brainy is already working on the test results we’ve got, but most will take a few hours more. And, I can’t believe that I am saying this, it will also give us time to set up a room to contain her safely.”

Lena doesn’t know what to say to comfort the redhead. 

She feels sick at the idea of putting someone in a cage like a feral animal, ray-of-sunshine Kara all the more. But a rational part of her knows they don’t have much of a choice, an uncontrollable kryptonian would cause innumerable damages and casualties. Her concussion, damaged trachea and larynx all agree by throbbing more and more acutely.

Alex finally looks at her directly, her eyes more red and blotchy than she has ever seen.

“Let’s get you home, for now we can’t do anything but rest.”

Lena follows the redhead without a single protest.

[no-thoughts-only-soup]

To Secure/Risk it all

Chapter 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

(God posting on mobile sucks)

Aka exposition chapter

—————

Curt had always considered himself the least likely person to get caught by zombies, monsters or other killers both supernatural and realistic. He was athletic, often going on runs, which allowed him to have more than enough stamina to outrun everything.

Reality tended to be disappointing however.

Actually running away from guards trying to kill him and his friends was a lot tougher than he could have ever imagined. They constantly had to make short, swift turns into the maze-like hallways, while keeping in mind how not to get trapped like rats. He constantly had to shoot guards and cameras to keep them off of their trail. And mostly, he constantly had to look over his shoulder and slow down to ensure his friends didn’t fall too far behind.

It was a good thing he still had his B-Class keycard with him, swiping doors open both to slip into places they wouldn’t be able to otherwise, and freeing other SCPs that would slow the Foundation down. He looked over his shoulder once to see Den do the same with the A-Class keycard she had swiped from Snee when she had knocked him down.

His heart beat in his throat. They were running out of bullets and room to run towards. They had to hide, both to let the others take a breather and for him to get his mind straight again, because they wouldn’t get much further without a solid plan.

The bathroom doors doomed up near them and out of sheer desperation, Curt almost bashed through the first door, heading for the end of the small room where a closet was located. They all crammed themselves inside of it, closing the door behind them and holding their breath.

30 seconds passed. A minute passed. Two minutes passed. They stopped holding their breath, but remained silent. Five minutes passed.

Coast seemed clear.

They breathed a sigh of relief. For now, they were safe.

Christian grabbed Curt by the shoulders and guided him to a crate, pushing him down until he was seated. And he didn’t need to say anything, just give him a stern look that told Curt he wanted answers, now.

“…Where do you want me to start?” Curt asked, hating how shaky his voice was.

“Fucking… wherever you want I guess.” Ivan shrugged. “I just wanna know what the fuck is going on.”

“Maybe start explaining how us being, y’know, became SCPs apparently?” Den offered.

Curt leaned on his thighs with his arms, sighing. “Honestly? I think we’ve always been. Just… never realized it. Heck, I didn’t connect the dots until yesterday. I was able to get in the archives and found a file about us.”

He pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket. A part of the file he managed to take. His throat felt bone dry as his eyes fell on it again. It was still unbelievable.

“Well,” Christian interrupted, “you wanna start telling us what we are? Cuz I have a feeling I know, but I just wanna be sure about what it is that makes us so special.”

Curt readied himself, closing his eyes and trying to remember as much as he could from the file, as well as putting it together in a way his friends would understand.

“SCP-9475… is a SCP consisting out of a small group of adult humans. SCP-9475 has the ability to turn their direct environment into a pocket dimension, in which they are able to alter reality to their will. SCP-9475 activates this ability when one of them assigns themselves or is assigned the role of ‘host’. The host will come up with a hypothetical scenario for the other members of SCP-9475 to act out. This fictional scenario can be anything from a realistic possibility such as getting stalked or blackmailed, to fully fictional popular media such as TV shows, movies and games. Examples being-“

“Dude we already know.” Ivan butted in.

“Sorry.” Curt sighed. “I’m kinda… just retelling as much as I can remember from the file.”

He cleared his throat and continued. “Once the host has decided on a scenario, they will activate the pocket dimension. Within the pocket dimension, SCP-9475 will alter reality to enact the scenario as well as actions SCP-9475 takes. The host will have priority when it comes to the altering of reality, but will often listen to the rest of SCP-9475.

When the scenario has reached its conclusion, SCP-9475 will erase the pocket dimension, along with any changes that might have happened to the environment or themselves. Injuries and death done to SCP-9475 will be undone a few hours after the closing of the pocket dimension.”

Den widened her eyes. “Damn, like, everything? Even all the times I stabbed Ivan?”

Ivan laughed in response. “Explains how I survived Den for so long.”

Curt just continued. “SCP-9475 is also able to extend their powers to ‘guests’ they invite to join in their scenario. Interviewing those guests reveals they don’t remember their encounter with SCP-9475, only that it was a ‘fun collab’. In fact, any outsiders who happen to wander into SCP-9475’s pocket dimension don’t seem to remember anything after it closes. It is suspected that repeated and direct interaction with SCP-9475 as a ‘guest’ can results in memories of the event being retained. This is currently being tested with a C-Class personnel.”

“So that is Kristine’s role.” Christian pointed out. “She was put with us both to relay information about us and to see if she could become a part of… well, us.”

Frowning, Ivan suddenly stepped forward, getting closer to Curt. “Hey man, you good? You look really shaken.”

Christian rolled his eyes. “My dude, we’re literally finding out we’re not human, of course we’re all shaken.”

He hasn’t realized just how awful he felt. It was only now that Curt was starting to feel small and sick. Or maybe he had been the entire time, pushed it down and now it was finally crawling it’s way back up. He looked at them, his throat feeling raspy and his voice cracked.

“Ya’ll… we’ve been set up from the beginning.”

Den and Ivan looked surprised, but Christian looked like he already figured it out, motioning for Curt to keep going.

“He… I was offered a job here specifically so I could be made host. You guys were drugged… kidnapped and placed in a field of dead D-Class so you’d be arrested and the Foundation would be able to force you to join. All the SCPs you guys have faced? It was never to study them. It was to study us. Good god, Madz was purposely send into the Shy Guy with the transceiver specifically so they’d have a reason to send us in. A-all of this… was a set up.”

Ivan winced. “Damn. I mean, makes sense but still…”

“For whatever reason… we weren’t aware of our powers and they knew.” Curt kept going, feeling lightheaded yet heavy at the same time. “T-the file explicitly says to keep us in the dark. They made me only do some stupid useless paper work… it was all a sham… I can’t believe I…”

“What happened to Chilly?” Den blurted out. Everyone gave her a look. She awkwardly scratched her neck. “Sorry, awful timing, I know.”

Fuck. He didn’t wanna tell them. He didn’t wanna bring back up the awful feelings and thoughts that plagued him through the nightmare, creating nightmares so horrible he actually lost his dinner in the toilet. Thinking about it made him sick again. But he had to. They deserved to know.

“They… they wanted to know if our generative powers work outside of a scenario, outside of a pocket dimension.” Curt began, his voice barely above a whisper. Fuck, his chest was already hurting from this, pounding against his rib cage.

“S-so they took her… a-and restrained her… and…”

He couldn’t stop hearing the screaming in his head. Her screaming. Screaming their names. Screaming his name.

“They hurt her… t-tortured her… I-I don’t even know i-if they intended… or if it was just… too much…”

It hurt. His heart hurt. His longs hurt. His chest hurt. Not even trying to think about fun times helped, since her usual gag of yelling help was now replaced with actual terror. Why was breathing so hard? He should’ve figured it earlier. He could have stopped this. He was crying, he could feel the tears on his face. Why did he listen in the first place to Snee and the other A-Class? God, it felt like someone was choking him. He should have gotten them out after the first test. Why was everything spinning? Why did he ignore all the warning signals and gut feelings? All the sounds around him just sounded like static. Why didn’t he save her? Why couldn’t he save her? Why did he let her die? Why did she die? Why why why why why why why why why why—

“CURT!”

His head snapped up. Everyone was looking at him, eyes wide with worry and half-panic. He opened his mouth, trying to say something, anything, but the words got stuck in his throat.

“Dude,” Ivan sounded a little out of breath “I think you’re having a panic attack or something.”

“Yeah no shit.” Christian muttered, crouching down until he met Curt eye to eye. “Curt, look at me. This is gonna sound weird, but I need you to tell me three things you see right now, two things you feel and, uh, one thing you smell.”

Den softly and shakily smiled. “That old trick, huh?”

“Best trick in the book.” Christian responded. “Ok, go.”

He didn’t have a chance to ask. He just had to answer. And with every bit of effort he could drag up, he started speaking.

“I-I see you… and that lightbulb… and Ivan…”

“Good, keep going.”

He took a shaky breath. Ivan gently removed the paper from his hand, reading over it and wincing, but not saying a word. Curt decided to focus on the task at hand, running his fingers along the crate beneath him.

“I feel… the crate I’m sitting on… and the ground under my feet I guess… and as for smell…”

His nose wrinkled. “…Whatever the hell Ivan’s been eating.”

Ivan’s mouth fell open as Den and Christian bursted out laughing.

“WHAT!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?”

And Curt couldn’t help but shakily laugh with them. And honestly? Laughing felt nice. It broke some of the tension that had been weighting them all down.

Den nudged Ivan. “It’s your own fault for eating that shit.”

“It was either that or starving! Blame Christian for getting us into trouble!”

“That was a distraction and I don’t regret it.”

“Whatever man, how did this go from calming down Curt to roasting me again?”

As Ivan and Den teased each other, Christian turned his attention back to Curt. “Feeling better?”

Curt had to admit he did. He was still on edge, still shaking a little, but while his heart raced it didn’t hurt as badly anymore. “A bit.” He confessed.

Christian pouted, crossing his arms. “A bit ain’t gonna do it, we need you to have your head clear. Gonna do cliché tactic number 2.”

More gently than Curt had ever seen him do before, he placed a hand on Curt’s shoulder. “Copy my breathing, ‘kay?”

And Christian started slowly breathing in and breathing out, loud enough for Curt to follow. After a second, Curt joined, breathing in… and out. In… and out. In… and out.

Ivan took his hand, rubbing circles on it. And Den leaned near the door, giving him a reassuring smile when she caught him looking at her.

Piece by piece, bit by bit, Curt felt the panic melt away like snow in the sun. It was gonna be okay. The dread sunk to the bottom. It wasn’t gonna go away, and he knew it would come back, but he was able to push it away for now. They had more important things to worry about, like getting the hell out of here.

Curt took one last deep breath, closed his eyes and exhaled, opening them with a new resolve. They all smiled back at him, the same look of determination in their eyes.

But then, the door opened.

[thewingedswine]

Are you going to finish writing Know You?

NOTE: I am so sorry the answer became a novel, but here you go anyway🤣

That is such an inadvertently loaded question that it hurt my heart when I read it😅

So, YES, I do plan to finish it, and yes, though you didn’t ask, I still plan to start the sequel soon after- I mentioned I think in the first or second chapter that I plan to keep the story going for a few years- and it will end with the characters being like ELDERLY(not all of them but you’ll have to wait and see which ones I YEET)

But honestly what slowed me down in the first place was the dwindling interest and the disdain for stripes as a main oc.

I have a good handful of people who want to see how it ends and I LOVE them, and I love writing for them, but Know You became much closer to my heart than I expected,

And while Stripes is admittedly a dick, I try to make the characters as aware of that as possible. People scold her, she has reasons for acting that way, she sometimes feels bad about it, and she is actively making SMALL unconscious changes throughout the story, (since I plan to make this story last YEEEEAAARSSSS, I can’t give her an arc that ends quickly, I understand how the slow slow progression is frustrating but it’s realistic) and so on-

When people started commenting that they didn’t like the story because of her, I was not in a good place, and I think I emotionally latched onto that as me being a bad writer instead of “this story just isn’t for those people”. And, though I know better now, that feeling still hasn’t gone away

ADDITIONALLY, when I started the story I had sold a big slice of my small business and I had a lot of free time to update frequently because the money was just rolling in and I had very little to do- plus the movie had just come out so the hype was high and people wanted whatever Avatar fics they could get their hands on.

Now there are more options for readers, I’m starting a new business so there is less time to focus on putting out those big meaty chapters, and Know You’s popularity has died so my motivation to post for it (*often*, because I’m still very much in love with the fandom and with my characters and I’ve written out too much of the fucking 75 year timeline to just STOP) has died a bit as well

Lastly, the 2% of my personality that ISNT Avatar is writing. My grandmother has a doctorate in English language and literature (I said in a few places it was composition but i oopsed) I’ve been reading and writing with her as a hobby since I could blink and I DO love writing,(I’m not the greatest writer ever but I do love it)

The reason I write fanfics, which don’t pay, is for the dopamine blast I get when someone says they like the story. I don’t think there is any writer out there that can say they don’t do it at least a little bit for that.

So with the minimal amount of dopamine I get from the satisfaction of making the story exist in general, and the breadcrumbs my 3 online friends who read the story are throwing me every so often, I am indeed army crawling my way to the finish line, but it’s going to be extraordinarily slow.

I hope that answers your question, sorry about the rant, the ending is going to make you explode✨

[octopus-reactivated]

Title me Miss: Bath time!

Took me really long to write it, but it's done. What can i cay, i'm a slow worker

Also, thank you to @whump-blog for proofreading 💜🦀💜

Tw/cw: Pet whump, Whumpee thinks Caretaker is new Master, multiple(2) Caretakers, mention of starvation, fear of hurt (knife), touch starvation. Let me know if i missed anything

__________

Miss took the last sip of her tea and put the cup down. Juli took this as a sign that the breakfast was over. 

It was one of the best meals he ever had. Food wasn’t like in the facility: completely tasteless or spicy to hurt his freshly cutted mouth. It wasn’t spiked with drugs that made his legs wobble and his head spin. And now, when Juli was sure it wasn’t human food too and when he had a clear task, he felt safe and so … not guilty. Well, maybe a little bit guilty. 

At least, he managed to stop himself from devouring food as soon as it was given to him. It was difficult, but not impossible. He shouldn't complain anyway, not when he was shown so much mercy. 

__________

“I… um…” he stuttered.  Miss looked at him confused. His heart thumped, as he realized he would have to explain why he dared to speak up unprompted.

“I currently don't have any wounds” he admitted “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I was supposed to look presentable and… I'm sorry, so sorry…”

There he was babbling and muttering again. Pathetic. 

“If you wish so Miss…” he took a few shaky breaths to calm himself down, “you could open some yourself?”

As soon as the sentence left his mouth, he realized how stupid idea it was. Who was he to dictate Miss what to do?

But she said she wanted to get his wounds treated. 

“Miss?” He asked in a shaky voice, trying to imagine her grabbing a knife and dragging it on his skin.  Would it be a few cuts on his back? Shallow cut near a vital area, so she could feel him shake in fear, but still try to hold still to show obedience? One long cut going from his back to chest and back to back in a spiral?

He dared to look up. 

Miss looked at him disgusted… no, more than that. Horrified. 

He remembered how she told him earlier that she liked him. This must have changed by now. 

If only he learned to keep his mouth shut and keep his stupid suggestions to himself.

“Juli” Miss said in a sweet voice, the one that people in the movies often used when they were so angry, that they became completely calm.

She crouched to his level and placed a hand on his check. He was so, so terrified, and yet, some of his old training kicked in, and he involuntarily leaned into this comfort, even if it was just an illusion “No one's going to hurt you.” She said, gently tilting his head up, forcing him to look into her face “Not me, not Justin or anyone else”

“No hurt?” he repeated, wide-eyed.

“That’s correct. You’re safe here”

Juli sighted from relief. 

As long as he behaves, he won’t be hurt. 

That meant so much. He will be -somewhat- free of constant pain.

Have you forgotten how frequently you mess up your tasks?- mocked him the voice inside his head -How long will you go without punishment? That is, if you even get to have punishment instead of being abandoned.

He bowed down to show his gratitude. 

“I have to get going now” she took her hand away “I should be back for late dinner”

He didn’t understand why she was saying this to him, why did she feel the need to explain her plans to him, as he could understand or influence human ways. 

__________

“Water should be warm enough. You can get yourself ready,” Sir Justin said. “There is soap and stuff. I’m going to check up on you in a few minutes, but if you have any trouble you can call me”

Like he would dare to call sir, like he had any power to decide when sir came and went.

But he didn’t want to argue. That was a bad idea. A very bad idea. A recipe for getting returned.

Sir looked at him like he waited for an answer, so Juli confirmed that he understood, and then sir left.

There wasn’t much time. The Boy got out of clothes and folded them as nicely as possible, then grinding his teeth, he jumped into a full bathtub.

To his surprise, the water wasn’t ice-cold or even boiling hot. It was warm, yes, but not hot. Why was it warm? Maybe it was supposed to be hotter, but tap water couldn’t get any warmer? Why not boil it on the stove, then? But this could take a lot of time and effort, and he wasn’t worth it. 

Or was it to taunt him? ‘Look at him, he gets to clean himself  in warm water, almost like a human!’ Or was it to show off Miss’s wealth? ‘Actually, I can afford to give a nice bath even to my pets!’ Or maybe it was to give him something nice, so it could be ripped out of him later on, to hurt him and leave miserable.

It wasn’t his place to try to understand human reasons anyway.

 ________

The boy waited for him in the water. Sitting still, head down, back hunched. Justin expected him to start clearing himself, but no point In pointing this out, it would only stress him out more.

‘I thought we could wash your hair first’ he suggested, but the boy must have to consider this more of an order than a suggestion. 

Juli obediently leaned back, as Justin wetted his hair and when he put shampoo on them. He gently rubbed it in, when he noticed that Juli was closing his eyes. At first, he thought it was to not let the soap in, but then realized that the boy leaned into his hand, seemingly unbothered by the fact that it was still covered in bubbles. His breath hitched a little. Justin let him lay like that for a while, rubbing his cheek. Poor thing was visibly touch-starved. And regular-starved too. Justin had no heart to pull his hand away. He felt a sense of responsibility for the boy. 

When Decima first arrived, she had little to no understanding of how upperland culture and society worked. So if someone would tell her that Pets were on every level different from humans – she would probably believe that. It just happened that Justin was first. And now she decided to help one of those poor souls. 

“I’m going to wash the shampoo off,” he said, grabbing the shower’s head. He’ll do everything he can to help Juli heal from his wounds

__________

Taglist:  @kim-poce @whatgoeswhumpinthenight @kween-pinescales @wolfeyedwitch @myst-in-the-mirror @dont-touch-my-soup @obsessedwithegos @cicatrix-energy

[alittlefrenchtree]

I understand that Nick is now working on something else and promoting something else and it's absolutely normal that he can't talk during his promo and focus only on a film that he has made, I absolutely did not share the drama of these days however I also don't understand the whole "he doesn't owe us anything, he's busy" for the possibility that he doesn't post it of the vote like others.

Yes, ok I understand everything but it always seems like everyone has this idea of Nick too far gone now and couldn't even take a second to post a single story for the nomination for a movie that HE MADE and I'm not even saying I want to see him do it or that he has to do it at any cost, he probably won't but it's weird to see how with Taylor they are all "oh look he loves the film so much he, like us, can't let it go" but for Nick even if people just "hopes" to see only a story they are like "stop, he doesn't owe us anything he has other things to think now"

>For context, this ask has been sent after Taylor shared stories about the vote for the glaad awards but before the The Awardist Podcast.>

I’m so sorry I’ve been a bit slow to answer to that. By the time I had time to answer, the podcast happened and I wanted to stay in that mood for a bit, then I have been so very tired and now that I’m a bit rested, I’ve been trying to find a way to answer to you.

I’m not exactly sure what you’re saying exactly actually. It’s not a criticism, I just don’t know where to start my answer. 

As for the specific exemple of the vote for the glaad awards (vote!!!), I’m sure everybody has noticed by now that Bottoms is also nominated so it’s difficult for Nick to say anything about either. Even asking to vote for both is counter-productive as it will be only one winner so not to say anything looks like the best solution for me.

Like you, I think the idea of Nick being "too far gone" for RWRB is absolutely ridiculous.

And even if Taylor not letting go of the movie is more positively oriented, he’s doing almost nothing out of the ordinary. Walking the award circuit as a lead of a movie with a chance to get nomination is very normal (whining bc you can’t sign books while being drunk is less common, but that just makes him even more special 💜).

I’m still not sure where I’m going with this answer but I’m going to keep writing until I feel like it’s coherent enough.

It’s tricky to react to what you say without context or knowing the people who are saying these things. The Internet these days is a lot about overreacting and what could have been a meaningless joke or thought at start can become heavy with repetition and numbers. Like reading "he can’t let go of the movie" is cute the first time but maybe feels a bit more like he's being desperate the hundredth time. "He has other things to do" sounds normal the first time but maybe too close to "he doesn’t care" the hundredth. But the reality hasn’t changed in the meantime, they both still have very normal behavior doing what they’re doing as actor. What I’m trying to say is that it’s fandom stuff happening inside the fandom and to fans mostly and it's mostly about perception. (Am I making any sense? (no))

I also feel like a part of that can be related to expectations (and too many of them) inside a fandom and fans wanting to preserve of protect their actor from it. Expectations, whether they’re expressed on a corner on the Internet or directly to famous people in DMs, often creates frustration and disappointment on the long run. For example, I don’t share most of the asks only waiting or asking for news on Taylor’s next project anymore. There’s nothing wrong with them and I get they come from a place of support but I feel like it would start to sound weird at some point. We’ll know when we’ll know and he’ll tell the story if he feels like it.

I had the same feeling with an ask that were mentioning a semi-hope for Taylor to share something on Alex’s birthday. I thought it was unlikely but I didn’t want to piss on someone’s else fun. But I didn’t want to entertain something I didn’t believe in either (firstly, because I hate lies but mostly because) I didn’t want to create or nourish an expectation that would most likely end up in frustration or disappointment for people reading. So I ended up not posting it at all.

All of that to say that sometimes maybe the "he doesn’t owe us anything" comes from a similar place than that, only in a harsher way to say it.

None of this is actually coherent but if I’m not posting now I’m going to end up deleting everything so let’s not do that. If I’ve completely missed the point of your original message, please say so? I don’t know 😅

[aqua-dan]

I’m sorry for like constantly filling up your inbox with question but I’ve figured out what Roy and Garth’s little misunderstandings were so you don’t have to answer that ask.

I also would like to admit that I think that I’m kind of a Roy.

Bare with me…

I often trash on my friends at any given opportunity. Any opening for a snide remark, any mean comment I could possibly think of in two seconds. If it’s clever and witty then I’ll squeeze it in and for any other person what I’m doing is seen as mean and for a while… they also considered me as rude.

I never really realized that I was actually overstepping someone’s boundaries. This is more geared to one specific person and I felt like really bad about it… because… the whole reason I was being like that in the first place is because I like them and I want to be close to them…

Like I considered them different from everyone else - I felt like I related to them and I felt like they could understand me - like they could understand the worst parts of me and if they over time got conditioned to being around me even when I’m like that then they could be the type of person who I can show all my ugly to as well.

It’s like weird - I don’t know how to describe it. In my head I seriously think that what I’m doing is like extremely and so obviously affectionate and caring. It’s like me insulting them is actually the most hilarious thing in the world because me thinking low of them would be the biggest joke to end all jokes… because I don’t think low of them - I really like them and I thought that was obvious.

I guess it’s easier to show that in a special little game made for them then it is to do it in a normal way because if I do that I’ll be showing my ass because if I was affectionate in a normal way and they didn’t like me then it’d kind of crush me and if I do it this way and they still like me than perhaps it’s mutual.

God, to think when they communicated to me that they didn’t think we were close enough for that then I felt like a damn idiot because I felt closer to them than literally anyone else. :(

It’s very twisted but my POINT is that lowkey Roy probably really likes Garth if my situation at all resembles that.

Ah, classic preschool bs, if he’s mean to you for no reason than it means he likes you but it is very true.

I think that people don’t understand RoyGarth because they refuse to see the implications. It’s not a bad or confusing ship at all. It’s misunderstandings and if they truly hated each other’s guts its not like that will ever effectively take away from the quality of the ship.

What Roy does for Garth is almost inherently affectionate and almost romantic seen through the right lenses.

Sorry for the tangent. This isn’t me venting AT ALL by the way - I’m just trying to connect Roy’s behavior to something and I know myself better than anyone so!

Hey! No worries, anon! I actually LOVE getting asks, and I'm always super appreciative for every one I get! I'm sorry also that I'm so slow to answer them. I get so nervous answering things sometimes because I don't want to say the wrong thing. I've been known to go and re-read whole series just in case so I can give the best response I can. But that does mean that sometimes asks sit around for a bit... oops. This ain't about me though, so!

Thank you genuinely for sending this! I think it's a really interesting take on this whole thing from someone who has clearly analyzed their own actions/feelings, and gives us a perspective that we may not otherwise see.

I do think it's really intriguing, both in real life and in fiction, how differently two people can view something and how actions can be interpreted/misinterpreted.

Again, thank you for being willing to share this! (And as a side note, I still am planning on answering your other ask anyway, but maybe as a comprehensive look at Roy and Garth's interactions)

[spideymichelle]

do you happen to have any petermj fics youd recommend? 🫶

im looking to procrastinate this week and was curious if you’ve maybe read anything good recently!

i will always have petermj fics to recommend

completed fics

Behind glass doors by @abc2411

“They think we hate each other!”

“But we don’t.” She says. Her words are slow and drawn out like she’s struggling to follow. Peter knows he can get in his own head sometimes, but he feels like this isn’t one of those instances. “Exactly!”

“So why does it matter?” She asks. Her words cut straight to the point. There’s not anything they can do. Coming out and saying ‘well, no. Actually. Spider-Man does not hate MJ Watson, in fact, he thinks about her quite regularly and has been living with her for the past eighteen months’ wasn’t a possibility.

this fic has everything i love from established relationships/famous actress mj/ menace to society mj/ fake hating and secret relationships like what more do you want

midtown high’s alumni by @watsonmj

It’s a truth universally acknowledged, that Midtown High’s staff is filled with a bunch of alumni.

Nobody knows who Mr. Parker’s wife is and three teenagers are determined to figure it out.

this is just super adorable and again a great established relationship and a secret relationship and the author just has the funniest way of writing

we could call it even ** by @weezly14

"And that’s how it was throughout college. When they were both in New York, they would fall into bed, and soon they weren’t just hooking up, they would talk and hang out and it would be like it used to be, but then she would get on a plane and he went back to being the ex she slept with sometimes. When she was at school they barely spoke. They slept with other people. (They didn’t talk about it, but they both knew. Assumed.) They compartmentalized. Peter could only be hers in Queens; over time, as she visited less often, he became less hers. She decided that it was better that way."

i'm literally kind of obsessed with the fic because it is super messy and complicated and mj centric and that will make tune every time like i'm sorry it is just that good

Look After You by @seek--rest

This can’t be happening, Michelle thinks– hands extended out and balancing precariously on top of a bridge as she looks over at Peter.

“Dude!”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter says, turning back around as he hangs up the call with Ned, Michelle’s hair whipping back and forth. “Are you okay?”

“No, not really,” Michelle answers honestly, Peter glancing down and then over to where someone is calling his name.

There’s cameras, helicopters, people everywhere– Michelle looking around and seeing people staring, grabbing their phones, all pointed at them.

“We should go,” Michelle says, terrified and trying so hard not to be

mj's point of view of no way home ??? sign me the fuck up like anything mj centric >>>>

coming back to you by @watsonmj

“Critics are calling Unmasked your best performance to date. A lone hero trying her best to save Chicago and how the woman behind the mask copes with that type of responsibility. We were wondering if you took inspiration from one of our own heroes,” the interviewer continues. “Fans are taking guesses, doing polls. Since you’re from Queens, the most popular answer is Spider-Man.”

The lie tastes bittersweet on her tongue. “I don’t really follow heroes.”

MJ and Peter have been broken up for a while now because of Spider-Man. But years later, after becoming an actress and moving back to New York, she finds herself still drawn to Spider-Man, to Peter.

who doesn't love a good coming back together i just love it so much

a treacherous gain ** by @seek--rest, @promiseofthepremise

“We’re mad at you. I’m mad at you. It’s— it’s been two years, Peter. Two years,” Ned says, his voice even— intentionally so— as he purses his lips. “If we hadn’t figured it out, if— if we hadn’t shown up today, would you ever have come to find us?”

Michelle doesn’t want to look at him because she’s not sure if she can handle that right now, not sure of how she feels about any of this and of the presence of a boy that she’d been in love with two years and still feels— painfully— like she still is, the two years that he’d missed out on competing with the feelings, emotions, and memories of how she felt two years ago.

She doesn’t want to look at him because it’s been two years and yet she knows Peter Parker, knows him just as Ned does for asking a question neither of them really needed the answer to.

“No.” OR: How do you find your place in someone’s world again when their life has only gotten more complicated in your absence? (PS4 Felicia storyline, post-NWH style.)

this fic had me screaming like it was so good had me tuning in every sunday like i was obsessed

if only you knew **by @spicysagittarius

In which Peter Parker and Michelle Jones-Watson are tough competitors at MIT and absolutely despise each other. When he finds a lost book (a steamy romance novel!) he texts the owner to return it. Their texting turns to sexting, and he wishes he knew who the mystery girl was.

Spoiler alert: it's the person he hates the most.

something about enemies to anonymys sexting buddies to sexy truce to somewhat friends to definitely a crush to lovers it's good

in progress

from the sidelines by @seek--rest

“I’m late, I’m sorry. I know she’s–” he says in a rush, hair looking windswept and his clothes rumpled– looking at him like she’s been sent back in time.

It’s not possible, she thinks as Gwen gestures between them.

“Peter, meet Michelle. Michelle, this is Peter,” Gwen says, an exasperated smile on her face that quickly falls as the two of them stare at each other– an instant recognition that Michelle can’t believe as she lets out a sharp laugh.

“Peter Parker?”

i'm literally obsessed with this fic, roommates childhood friends that lost contact, gwen and model!mj like i'm hooked

Peter Isn't Dead by @abc2411

Peter Parker died in battle six months ago. There was no body, but they all knew. So, why has MJ seen him in the backgrounds of newspaper clippings halfway across the country?

MJ embarks on a road trip of a lifetime to hunt down her pressumed-dead husband and bring him back to where he belongs. She quickly realises that there are much bigger forces at play.

Inspired on Alice Isn't Dead

this is literally one of my favourite fics and i just love the thriller/horror aspect

Hope I'm Not Tired of Rebuilding by @abc2411

“You used to do that in school,” Peter says, drawing her attention over to him. In fairness, he’d had it for a while, a conscious determination to not look at him, a forced nonchalance at the fact they were now alone at the table. “Just-... insert yourself.”

“Did I?”

Peter hums and takes a sip of the drink on his right. He’s yet to buy his own and his scrounging off Ned. He smiles like it's their little secret. She schools her features. “I used to think you were trying to be cool.”

She stares at him, features even despite the fluttering in her stomach that she’s trying to tamp down. “I didn’t need to try at that.”

“No... you didn’t.”

--- After moving back to New York unannounced, MJ finds her feet and figures out what it means to forget and forgive when everyone else has moved on.

this is just too good i can't wait for the updates

until the rainbow burns the stars out in the sky by ** @tvfanatic97-2

Peter presses a chaste kiss to her temple and whispers, likely for the last time as MJ will realize hours later when it’s daylight and Peter has long snuck out of her bedroom, “I love you, Michelle Jones.”

The whispered words settle deep within her, a balm that soothes all the pain and hurt of the night before burrowing to the center of her chest, making a permanent home for themselves. Even at such a young, ripe age, MJ knows she’s likely going to love Peter Parker forever, even when she’s old and greying and they’re each married to someone else, and that is the worst part of all this.

-

Or: MJ falls in love with Peter Parker first when she is sixteen years old, then again when she is twenty one, then again when she is twenty eight and again, and again, and again. She is bound and destined to always come back to him, to always choose him, to always love him.

i'm so obsessed with fic and it is just so well written and the characterization on mj has me screaming in my pillow

something blue **by @weezly14

“Em, I have the best idea.”

His eyes are twinkling. It’s probably a terrible idea.

“I doubt that.”

“What if we go with each other? To all these weddings?”

Fake dating. What could go wrong?

fake dating and wedding .... friends who don't wanna ruin their friendship when they stopped being friends a long time ago ?? like so good

the slowest moving train by** @weezly14, @seek--rest

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Peter asks.

“Do you actually want me to answer, because I can think of at least five things,” Ned asks.

“It’s just sex,” Peter replies, “just a physical thing. No strings. It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, because you and MJ are completely normal people who have a totally chill history and haven’t spent two years avoiding each other. It’s not like you moped around for months after - ”

“We’re just - it’s not a relationship, Ned. It’s - it’s convenient. And easy. That’s all.”

“Famous last words.”

exes to friends with benefits is literally the best trope idk it's the history it's the ease of being someone who know you through and through so excited for any of the updates

don't forget to comment and leave kudos on the fics <3

** mature/ explicict content

[fishedeyelenz]

Fishy!! Fish fish! It’s me! The, the long anon…? I mean yeah that works lol. Oooough fishy, OOOOUUUGGH…..I just went through my fourth surgery on my bloody knee and it’s still not fixed and correct and it hurts and oooooough….im about to RIP my leg off and THROW IT!! Or bite it off. Or…man I don’t know, shuck my kneecap like an oyster or SOMETHING.

So! I obviously cannot help but wonder….how would our dearest little twerp Billy handle an s/o with physical health problems? I have MANY issues, oh yes many, I’m very gifted in fact! Very talented. (But for real I’m actually okay) I’m sorry, I know this is like, super specific but…well, I have many physical limitations, I have POTS, neuropathy, complex regional pain syndrome, EDS, my stomach organ doesn’t work properly and I throw up my food when I eat unless I lay down and try to sleep, or am very still while laying down, just, lots of things, I’ve had to be in a wheelchair for long periods of time many times, saying all of this to give you an idea how I’m rather…a weak individual overall, but I love to play and roughhouse I just gotta, be careful and I can’t do a lot at a time lol. Which is hard for me sometimes cause I’m EXTREMELY strong willed when it comes to just, grinning and bearing it, an basically am willing to kill myself from pushing myself too much cause I wanna bloody do what I want!

Okay so, how would Billy be with someone like that? Someone like me? Someone who has (lots of) leg troubles or who has heart problems or maybe you can’t be too too rough with cause of chronic pain? Would HE be the one too scared to mess with me? For fear of hurting me? Would he understand? I have my own ideas and hopes, but I freaking love the way you write him, so I gotta ask!

I wonder if it would make him almost…more willing to show himself sooner…cause I wonder if like…should Billy have an object of affection that he pines for and stalks from afar in his little attic nest, but his object of affection if one who kinda…has to limp and hobble or roll around in a chair and is slow and kind of sickly at times, I can’t help but wonder if he’d almost work himself up wanting to help, in his mind, in his own billy way? Like in his mind he kind of mother hens from afar, with the way he thinks, and the fact that the s/o is, in his mind, weaker than him, for once he could take care of them, HE is the healthy one for once! HE is the strong one this time! HE’S the normal one, and it’s something he never even knew could happen in anyway! Like, I bet it would make him puff up his chest with pride by like, sneaking an extra blanket on them or something small, cause to him it’s it’s HUGE, HUGE that he of all people could actually offer something to someone! Something we all know he doesn’t think is possible!

Ooough I’m sorry,y mind is CURSED with far too many ideas and scenarios that are too gentle and sweet!! I think of all kinds of evil disgusting things…y’all would be horrified. *mushy loving sentimental things*

AND OH TO BE A KITTY WITH HIM. He can bite me with love all he wants, cause I DO THAT! I’m constantly biting my parents and siblings and nieces and nephews! It really is a love language I’m telling you. *naws on him like a chew toy*

ALSO I CANT WHISTLE!! I want to so badly!! He could teach me!! I bet he’d love trying to teach someone something, and we could laugh at how bad I am at it! But I’ve been practicing, I can….almost….ALMOST make a whistle sound…just…not…YET

Hello!! Finally tumbrl let me answer this ask </3 sorry about the delay. I hope you are doing well, and you're recovery is going good!! I hope your knee is managing to heal :( As for Billy... yeah I do think he would show himself sooner to you!! Especially if he develops an obsession on you, cause alas, relationships with him would start off as obsessions </3 But yeah, he would take notice of how you appear to be sick more often than not, and at first it let's him put his guard down around you for a bit. If you're weak, it means you can't hurt him, right? But as time moves on and he develops a genuine fondness for you (a thing he thought he wasn't capable of) he would start trying to take care of you from afar. Leaving your meds close by so you aways have them at hand, adjusting the temperature of your room while you sleep, small stuff like that. I actually think that he wouldn't even reveal himself to you willingly, rather you catch him one day acccidentaly while he's trying to help you from the shadows. A terrifying moment for you both, but you'll laugh about it later.

And yes, he would feel personally responsible for you, and would look out to aways make you feel good or better. Maybe it would actually push him to seek help, go to a therapist maybe, so he could take even better care of you. Cause I can see him having a rough start in your relationship, with him being unstable making him isolate himself from you. One of the main things he fears is of course hurting you, from being too rough with you. I guess you could help help each other with that, you helping him take care of his mental health, him taking care of your physical health.

AND TO BE A KITTY WITH HIM!! It might take time for you to roughhouse together, since his fear of being too rough with you, but when he learns ro better control himself and trust himself, he might just bite back.

And keep on trying whistling!! It took me two years to learn, but in the end it all payed off!! Billy would definitely try to help too hehehe!!

Anyways!! Thanks for the ask long anon!! Took me a while to reply, but I finally got it out!! Hehhehe

[awetistic-things]

I was talking to my friend online today and like. I got to thinking—and I also just realized another thing too but I'll get to that—that like.

My friend said my experiences are typical to me. I've always been the way I am. But I was thinking, if I have a neurodivergency, how much of "me" is "me" and how will I change if I ever get diagnosed? How will the way I view myself change?

And like. The thing I just realized is, I'm pretty sure I've got some sorta ADHD. My mom has it and one of my brothers has it, so there's some close family history of it. But I'm not stereotypically hyperactive. I'm AFAB and most of my "hyperactivity" is my mind will *not* slow tf down. I've literally had sleeping problems for years because of it. I'm twenty now, and I've had issues falling asleep for as long as I can possibly remember.

So that's one thing. Another thing is... I might be autistic? But the one thing holding me back from being "sure" is that I have little to no sensory issues and I'm not *always* uncertain about social situations. Am I awkward and prefer not to speak if I don't know what to say (which is almost all the time)? Yes. Do I sometimes struggle determining tone or other people's emotions? Yes. I feel like if i had more sensory issues then I might be "sure" I'm autistic, because I just constantly feel so out of place in social situations and I have no clue why.

(I'm adding this here after I've written everything else because, surprise surprise, I had Another Thought). How can I know if I'm masking, if i am neurodiverse? I interact the same way with my family that I do with strangers, except I'm more comfortable with my family. But with my friends, I can ask about their tone. I can ask if they were being sarcastic. I can ask millions (not literally) of follow up questions and it is so damn helpful. But I don't do that with my family and i feel.... "small" when I do that at work. So I try not to ask them a lot of questions and it really does not help at all because then I'm just left confused and anxious because I don't know what to do because I didn't ask for clarification from them because I didn't want to seem like a burden or like I couldn't think for myself or like i was, for lack of a better term, "stupid."

But also I've been shy my entire life. Super quiet. And I'm also *very* soft-spoken so that doesn't help at all. I have a total of like six or seven friends and they're literally all neurodivergent. I get along with them. I feel safe with them. They know me. I relate to them and they often relate to me too. Five of them have ADHD, two have autism for sure and another one suspect it, just like me.

And also like. How... can I know, like, what someone who doesn't have ADHD or autism experiences? Do I compare my experiences with those accounts?

Ugh. I'm tired and I have a headache. Sorry if this is rambling. I suspect I have ADHD and that... might help my paragraphs to be all funky and long, so, sorry about that.

Any advice is appreciated, but not necessary if you don't feel like giving any. This goes for any replies too, if you wanna share your thoughts, please feel free to because I am Very Very Confused.

Sorry for the super long post. Thank you for reading and thank you if you decide to give any advice. Like I said, it's not necessary.

okay i’m gonna break down my answers one at a time, but also here’s a link to a really helpful article on autism and adhd if you wanna check it out :) (child mind institute is my personal favorite)

now for the “how will my view of myself change after a diagnose” i’m not sure personally speaking because i’ve yet to be diagnosed. but once i decided to research autism, i initially felt like a fraud and thought i was desperate to be somebody other than myself. however, the more involved i got in the community, the more confident i became. so, i suggest looking up some reddit answers maybe on people who got diagnosed and their experiences. but also to do a lot of research, because that could definitely answer a lot of your questions (just searching up “autism” “adhd” or “comorbidity between adhd and autism”)

sensory issues are a big thing with autism, but comorbidity (how different disorders interact with eachother) can maybe explain some of that. then again, if you mask a lot (unintentionally) you can become unaware of a lot of autistic traits which could lead to a lot of your confusion

sleeping is a big problem for people with autism and/or adhd (pretty sure it’s an issue for neurodiverse people in general) here’s an article for autism and adhd about sleeping problems:

unintentional masking can lead to a lot of “oh i know social cues” or “i’m just an introvert” so doing a deep dive, comparing autistic traits and your own, can really help with that. also, some autistic people can become better at tone, social cues, etc. over time, especially if they don’t know they’re autistic

not knowing if you’re masking or not is definitely a neurodiverse experience. it’s really hard to figure it out, but becoming more involved in the community (i suggest adhd and autistic spaces) can help you see relatability with other people and have a lot of “oh! i thought that was just a me thing!” i understand what you mean about not wanting to come across as “stupid” (asking for clarification is never a “stupid” thing to do and it’s good that you do that), and becoming more confident in yourself and essentially knowing that you’re not “stupid” you just need some help, and that’s okay

asking neurotypicals what their experiences are like is not something i have ever tried, mainly because growing up all i heard and saw was the neurotypical experience. i personally think it’s more important to talk to your neurodiverse friends and seek out that reliability. i think figuring out if you’re neurodiverse is mainly “let’s evaluate how i’m “different”” rather than “let’s evaluate how i’m “normal””)

i appreciate all the questions and feel free to dm me if you want to talk more :) /gen

[thotsforvillainrights]

HIII I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR WRITINGS SO SO MUCH I HAVE TO READ AT ATLEAST ONE BEFORE I GO TO SLEEP AND WHEN I WAKE UP EACH DAY LITERALLY YOUR WRITINGS KEEP ME ALIVE

but anywho 😭 can we get some Nemoto smut? Like a smut where he bends the reader over and fucks them till they can’t think properly. (IM SORRY IM JUST MAD HORNY FOR THIS MAN🙏🏾)

(I appreciate you reading my things. It means a lot to me!!! I’d love to deliver some Nemoto content. In fact, one of my dear moots loves him so much that I’m sure they’ll love to see this come up on their feed too😊)

~Sneaking Around~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-Did you really want to bring him some lunch or were you playing at his heart this morning? He had to raise the question when you rounded the corner wearing his favorite outfit on you. However, the way you smiled at him should’ve been enough to answer his question. This wasn’t something you did often and certainly not publicly like this. Sure occasionally you’d rile him up with a few sexy texts to get his head spinning at work, but never have you ever shown up in person to try and get a reaction out of him. “Have you lost it?” He tried to quietly scold you but his eyes were stuck on your body rather than your eyes so how were you supposed to take him seriously? He was barking his game but you were 100% positive he had no bite. You knew Shin well. By now he was likely either biting or licking his lips beneath that mask as he tried to regain some of his composure. 

-”What? I just wanted to bring you some lunch today? What’s so wrong with being sweet to your loving partner?” You further pressed while taking a seat on his desk and crossing your legs. “Y/N stop it. This is work. Someone could walk in on us at any minute and master would have my head on a stick if he found out. Go back home and wait for me. I promise I’ll tend to your every need and more.” You uncross your legs and watch him move to stand between them, his hands gently reaching to rub and grasp at your upper thighs. Sure a part of him wanted you to listen but the bigger half of him wasn’t as strong to deny you as he wished it to be. “Shin, where’s Mimic?” You tilt your head and ask feigning innocence. He sighed. “Away with the boss and Setsuno’s group doing a shakedown on the other end of town. But don’t you go getting the wrong idea as they should return momentarily.” He lied to you. There was no way they’d be back within the hour. There was plenty of time for you to do exactly what you wanted. Shin likely noticed that you caught him in a lie. It was something he rarely EVER did unless he felt absolutely necessary. So then he pauses to ask himself:

-If I want Y/N back home, why am I letting her/him/them unmask me right now? Why am I so receptive to the way my lover is squeezing their legs around my hips? Why am I feeling heat rise so quickly while Y/N is layering my neck in kisses? If I want my love to go back home, why am I so horny right now?” Most importantly...why can’t I stop my hands from moving?” 

-”You get 15 minutes.” He mumbles breathlessly as he quickly shed his clothing. You smirk at having won your little game and follow along with the stripping. After he locks the door he briefly apologizes to you before grasping you firmly and turning you around to bend you over his desk. He silently curses when the cup full of pens falls to the ground and makes a loud noise. The objective here is to be quiet so as to not get caught, but that’s a little difficult with the way he’s rapidly fucking you at the moment. To silence your moans he offers up his own arm for you to bite while he fucks you. He’s no stranger to it and neither are you. It’s already got a few bruises from the last escapade 2 nights ago with you. There is little he can do to silence the sound of skin slapping together, and he’d rather die than to slow down in this moment so he resolves to absolutely ruin you in the shortest possible time. 

-By now you’ve tapped into the delicious sound of his deep whines and moans, the way your name simply rolls from his tongue. It’s nothing short of perfection. However, with a soft huffing he grasps at your hips and slows his stroking in an attempt to somewhat punish you for teasing him like this. He does this to get a reaction out of you, a sloppily moaned apology as you beg him to keep going. He makes you promise you’ll never do something so risky like this again as he holds your imminent orgasm right out of your reach. “Fuck pleeease Shin, I promise! Fuck I promise, pleassssseee~” When he’s felt he had enough of this torture as well he finishes you off, pulling out and messing the slick flooring with his cum before leaning down to leave a sloppy heated kiss at your hole. When all is said and done (and the room tidied back up to perfection), he sends you on your way with a sweet kiss and a thank you for the lunch. By the look in your eyes though...he can expect this to definitely be the first time of many where you ‘visit’ him at work.

[hacked-by-jake]

I send a insta link to you(as we can't share a video here in ask) , I want to know if it's just me or Those two do give off jake and his hacker friend vibe.

Have a great day/night 💞✨

I always read you posts and I just love everything you write 💞❤️🤧...

Always keep writing 🥺✨

🥰😍

Hey Ho! And sorry for the late answer!

You can share videos by simply sending the whole link to an ask if you want to do it next time. So just insert the link as normal as you write the text, or you link a word with the video, that’s also possible. :D

Here is the Instagram video link (Go and watch it. It's really funny.)

And yes, I can also imagine Jake and a friend of his doing such shit. I even love the imagine of it, just because it’s funny and nice to imagine Jake being so boisterous and happy and having some fun. 🤭

I’m either imagining it with a friend, but even better, I think it’s Jake and Kaden. (For anyone who doesn’t know who Kaden is: We, the fandom, have a headcanon that Nymos is a real person and the real brother of Jake. Nymos is the hacker name and in real life he’s called Kaden.)

And yes, let's make a full imagine. (I’ll use Kaden)

Imagine...

MC, Jake and Kaden are out together, as so often, and the two boys have to wash their vehicles. Jake his motorcycle and Kaden his car. Because Jake just has one helmet right now, MC has to drive in the car of Kaden. On the way to the car wash, Jake drives wavy lines (of course carefully) for fun or drives in front of Kaden’s car to slow it down and block his way. The two do this often and Kaden hates it when his brother annoys him with it. But because Jake is usually the quieter of the two and Kaden always annoys Jake with every opportunity, Jake can finally give it back, which always amuses him a lot. Of course, the washing does not end normally and without the two brothers again make any crap. If is around, Jake is usually a little more relaxed than usual because he is used to his brother so much. MC is standing on the side and watching them doing a lot of nonsense and trying to annoy each other as usual. MC often films these moments to watch and remember it over and over again, and then MC films the moment of the video. The three have a lot of fun and spend a wonderful afternoon together.

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

So, "Anon ;)" as you can see, you’re not the only one. 😂 I really love it and it's so beautiful! Thank you a lot for sharing it with me and us. I think many will like it. 😌

And wow, thank you so much for your cute words! It really means so much to me that you like my posts. It is a great honor for me and I appreciate that you told me about it and made me happy with it.❤️ Thank you very much and I hope you will also enjoy it in the future. 🥺🙏

Have a wonderful day/evening/night, too! Take care of yourself and stay healthy! ❤️🥰💙