#watch me deliberately not putting that shit in the pete tag out of fear

[laesas]

did you ever make a post about pete not liking tankhun ? i know you mentioned it a few times in your tags but i don't remember seeing a post. (i share your opin ions.)

I definitely toyed with the idea of meta or a gifset but I didn't ever make a full post! I love unrequited love and I ESPECIALLY love the extremely rare platonic version which Tankhun and Pete absolutely nail in my opinion!

There are loads of moments where Pete's smile drops around Tankhun very quickly, or he insults Tankhun behind his back. Instead of laughing things off like Arm and Pol, he almost has a wincing fear-response to Tankhun, which we don't really see at all from the other bodyguards.

I think that Tankhun likes to think of himself as being close friends with his bodyguards, and he does genuinely show a lot of open affection for Pete and eventually concern for his safety. But I think ultimately for Pete, Tankhun is just a part of Pete's job, and over time resentment has built up until he thinks of Tankhun as one of the *worst* parts of it. I definitely don't think he resents Tankhun enough to hurt or endanger him, but that's about as far as it goes, there's certainly very little love there.

Something about that dynamic is just particularly brilliant, especially when combined with Pete's eventual defection from Tankhun's side to Vegas'. He chooses a man who has beaten and tortured him over a man who showers him in affection and throws parties on his return.

I utterly adore Tankhun but I think as a character that's grown up in a gilded cage, he doesn't really understand that what Pete needs is a sense of his own autonomy rather than being dragged to "fun" "lets cheer up Pete" parties that Tankhun has demanded on his behalf. At least with Vegas he *chose* to go back, he handed Vegas the ropes, let him lock him back up again. Even before he develops feelings for Vegas, Pete has clearly felt like a subhuman pet for Tankhun and the main family for a long, long time and I think ironically Vegas acknowledging Pete's humanity is the tipping point for him.

I think even without their nascent romantic love as a factor, Pete would always choose Vegas. Because despite the threat of suffering, he offers a sense of freedom that Tankhun's gilded cage does not. It all makes for an incredibly interesting betrayal, and makes Pete choosing Vegas over Tankhun all the more pointed. By choosing to be Vegas' pet, he chooses to be human.

[redlance]

This might seem a little out of left field as I guess you’re more known for your bechloe stuff but I can’t get over that dexter/wh13 fusion fic you did once and I was just wondering if you’d share the backstory as you put you had most of it fleshed out?

Hey! Oh man, this was a blast from the past haha. Thanks for making me revisit it! Now, let’s see what I can remember...

I’m not sure what I all explained in the fic itself (so things might differ from it and this), but the idea was that H.G. wasn’t saved at the end of season 2. Myka was trying to talk her down when Artie got a shot off that avoided the Corsican Vest (I took liberties with how the vest worked for this and decided it would only inflict the would-be wound on the attacker if the vest itself was directly hit) and hit H.G. in the neck. Myka screams and runs to her, H.G. falls and bleeds out in Myka’s arms. This is made all the more tragic by us knowing that Myka and H.G. were already falling in love a little bit prior to this - so Myka’s dealing with betrayal and two different kinds of losses - and that, as viewers, we know that H.G. would have broken down and not gone through with her plan, unable to kill Myka.(More beneath the cut, this gets long. Sorry anon! You asked!)

After this, Myka leaves the Warehouse. She can’t look Artie in the eye anymore, can’t forgive him for not trusting her with Helena, and she can’t stand being in a place that reminds her so much of H.G.

Can’t stand the smell of apples.

So, she packs up and heads towards the very antithesis of Univille, South Dakota - Miami, Florida.

It isn’t just a random decision either. From my notes;

Because once upon a time Myka had been someone who hunted down artifacts for a secret government organisation, a job that took her all over the world and had landed her in Miami a few short years ago. People had been turning up dead all over the city, burnt from the inside out. It had taken about a week, a few more dead bodies, and a run in with the very same team from Miami Metro that she now worked alongside, but they'd recovered Nero's Fiddle. Snagged, bagged, and tagged. But not before Myka and the then Detective had almost come to blows over territory encroachment. Pete had never let her live it down. Which was precisely why she hadn't told him, or anyone for that matter, who exactly she was working under now.

Because of that connection - and because Debra Morgan knows dedication when she sees it - she lands a job at Miami Metro. It’s not long before Myka realises that she and her Lieutenant are similar in many ways and a friendship forms. 

Meanwhile, for some reason I haven’t noted down, Myka ends up at a boat auction. Maybe it’s for a case. She happens upon a modest sized boat bearing the name ‘Slice of Life’ and feels inexplicably drawn to it. Her father had taken her out on a boat a little smaller than it back when she was a kid and so Myka has some experience with sailing. She ends up bidding on and winning it, and it’s eventually delivered to the marina. 

She starts spending a lot of time on the boat. Every day after work, she goes out to the marina and does some cleaning, adds her own little touches, makes it feel homey. 

And that’s when she starts seeing Helena. 

That’s when the criminals getting off on technicalities really start to get under her skin. 

That’s when she buys her first knife.

Unbeknownst to Myka, the Slice of Life is, of course, an artifact. Feeding on her grief and, basically, turning her into Dexter 2.0. She even has her own Harry for company. 

The first time she kills a man, she doesn’t feel sick or upset. She feels calm and at peace. Like she’s righted a wrong that had been plaguing this world. And Helena is there, beautiful as ever, telling Myka what a wonderful job she’s doing. They talk, sometimes sit in silence.

And it’s easy for Myka to forget that Helena isn’t real. 

So, Myka goes on policing by day and killing by night. Using the boat to dump the bodies much like Dexter did before her. She doesn’t keep souvenirs, though. The people she kills aren’t worthy of being remembered. 

There’s a holy shit moment when Myka invites Deb down to the marina and Deb realises that, “Holy fucking fuck, you bought my brother’s boat.” 

Things take a turn when Lila - who is not dead but keeps having dreams about Dexter killing her - shows up at the marina looking for Dex and finds Myka there instead. Lila, who looks so much like a modern H.G. it’s startling, and Myka can’t help it. She’s drawn to Lila the same way she was drawn to the boat. They spend time together, grow closer, more intimate. Then there’s this conversation:

"Who is it?" Lila asked and Myka spun, startled, to face her. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, eyeing Myka curiously, suspiciously almost, and Myka would swear she saw jealousy flash in oddly familiar brown eyes. She stared back, unable for the moment to feign the ignorance required to ask the obvious question. The one she could feel inching along her spine like a hundred spiders, tickling and agitating her skin until the need the scratch at it became overwhelming. "The person I remind you of. There is someone, isn't there?" Lila had her pinned with her gaze and Myka found that she could only nod, even as Lila took a step into the room and she felt every muscle in her body tense. "Was she a friend of yours?" The question was an empty one, she could hear it in Lila's voice that she already knew that wasn't the case. Myka watched as the other woman lifted her hand to trail her fingers over the marble countertop, gaze dropping and then returning to Myka as she asked the real question. "Was she a lover?" Myka's heart lurched and then seized, stealing away a beat or two as Lila continued to move closer. "I see it in your eyes, the way you look at me." She passed. "The way you CAN'T look at me sometimes. It's written all over your face, you know." Panic rose on Myka, unbidden and unexplainable, as Lola finally rounded the counter and leaned against it, her body now parallel to Myka's. "It just gets so dark sometimes." She made it sound like something to wonder over. Marvell at. "She must a been a very passionate-"

"We weren't lovers." Myka blurted, suddenly desperate for Lila to stop and she did, stunned into momentary silence by the apparently unexpected revelation. Her eyes were wide with something close to fear, something Lila seemed to take in stride.

"But you wanted to be." It wasn't a question. Myka's eyes drooped and she crossed her arms over her chest, looking away. "Well," And it was strange how much Lila could press into one word, how her looks could burn into you in less than a second. It was another thing that made Myka remember. "I can't imagine that she wasn't interested." But the way Lila leered, all unabashed obviousness, that was different. "What was it then? Was she married? Afraid? Or were you two some kind of Shakespearian star crossed lovers?" Myka's posture stiffened and then sagged dramatically the longer Lila stared at her, knowingly. As if she already knew the answer and was waiting to see if Myka would provide the correct one or not. As if she was testing her.

"A bit of all three, I think." Myka said through a sigh and Lila's lips turned upward briefly, as if Myka's answer had pleased her in some way. "It just... It wasn't..." She swallowed hard and then turned away, opening one of the kitchen cupboards and reaching for a mug, only to pause as her fingers brushed smoother porcelain. "I can't talk about this." She left the mug where it was and closed the cupboard, turning instead to the fridge and opening it to retrieve a bottle. She offered it to Lila without looking and then grabbed another for herself.

"Can't or won't?" She threw a glare at the other woman as she closed the heavy silver door with her hip and reached for the draw that housed a bottle opened amid various other odds and ends.

"Both." She said, a stern edge to her voice as she snapped the cap off and then handed the opener to Lila. The woman took it, deliberately brushing her fingers against Myka's in the exchange, and Myka yanked her hand back as though she'd accidentally slipped it into a fire. Lila caught her gaze and smirked before turning her attention to the beer in her hand.

“You know,” she started slowly, after taking a long draw from the bottle, “the man I came here looking for, he was the thing I wouldn't talk about for the longest time.” Myka thumbed the neck of her bottle and watched as Lila's attention drifted around the room. “I thought about him a lot, every day, but I never spoke about him out loud. I kept him close like a secret, until one day the silence almost broke me. I’d lost him, or at least I thought I had, and I don't think I’ve experienced pain that profound before. I loved him, but he...” she sighed, taking another swig of amber liquid turned green by the thick glass. “He had other priorities. Ones he put before me. I guess I loved him more than he loved me.” She smiled then, though Myka could tell it was forced. “He's my one that got away.” Silence then, empty and stretching as the seconds ticked by.

“She didn't get away.” Myka said at length. “She was taken from me.” And there was so much sour distaste to her tone, so much venom and contempt. She could feel it swimming in her veins, being pumped through her body by a heart that beat now only because it thought it should. Lila's expression changed at the sound of it, morphed into a mask of pity and sorrow that was headed by a frown.

“How did it happen?” The question didn't hurt, surprisingly, and neither did the memory of the moment as it flickered to life like a piece of video playback embedded in her brain. But there was a dull, numb ache. One that permeated her entire being.

Helena is always there, lingering in the shadows. Even while Lila is in her bed. 

Eventually, long story short, Myka ends up somewhat naturally neutralizing the artifact that is the Slice of Life. She, like Dexter, had found something worth more than killing. With the boat no longer in need of gooing, Myka won’t have to deal with feeling the repercussions of her otherwise OOC actions, and she’s left to live her life with Lila.

Or something like that. ;)

[imaginethoseguys]

Are we doing it? Part 1

Pairing: Peter Parker x Hannah(OC if you will)

Synopsis: First sex is a magic, but really confusing thing.

Word Count: I wrote it on my phone so… a bunch??

A/N: SOOO what was supposed to be a quick confusing smut turned into a fanfiction or whatever I don’t know LOL. I also decided to divide it in two parts, the smut itself being in the next one(WHOOPS)

Oh, and by the way, Peter and Hannah are 17-18 here, cause 15 is just a no-no

And I guess if you want to be tagged for the next part - write me, Idunnomeh

Peterpie🥧: what’s up giggles

Peterpie🥧: so when do we meet again?

Banannah🍌: any time you want really

Banannah🍌: say 8?

Peterpie🥧: sure

Peterpie🥧: wait for me🤘🏻

Banannah🍌: you run boy😏

Hannah looked at herself in the mirror for god knows which time today. Her father was away for a business trip this weekend, so the house was empty and she called Peter over. It might seem like just another movie night, they’ve had plenty of those; but Hannah knew it wasn’t just another night. They’ve been dating over a year now and tonight something was about to happen.

Well, not something. Sex. This word was spinning in her head all day.

Hannah didn’t want to admit she was taking all that “losing virginity” stuff so serious, but truth is, underneath her T-shirt and sweatpants was a matching pair of lingerie she’s recently bought.

God, what am I doing Hannah said to herself, I’m probably the only one thinking so intensely about it.

Peter was freaking out. He showered, brushed his teeth twice, he was checking his hair every time he walked pass a mirror; he even shaved there— so that was weird. He was trying to kick the thoughts about tonight away: he’s probably overthinking it, the fact, that parents aren’t home doesn’t mean it’ll lead to sex; but thoughts were there and they were eating him. What if he misunderstands the situation and forces Hannah into something she doesn’t want? Or what if he doesn’t understand the hints she’s dropping and will end up being dumped for his stupidity?

He fixed his t-shirt and rang the doorbell. There was a remote just a second followed by a click of the lock.

“Hey, Dimples,” said Hannah smiling widely.

“H-Hey,” Peter began to relax. Hannah’s bright face just had this magic ability to calm him down whenever his was worried. One glance at her and all the problems disappeared in an instant.

“Are you all right? You look weird.”

“Just… out of breath.”

“You seriously ran? Peter, it was a joke.”

“Hey, it was intentional. Gotta stay fit to catch all those bad guys, y’know.”

“You and your superhero duties..” she stepped away from the doorway, “come in.”

Hannah went to the kitchen and opened the fridge as Peter made his way to her film collection.

“So, what’s your poison? Coke or sprite?”

“I thought poison meant alcohol,” he said, looking over the movie library, “what do you want to watch? Action? Or maybe thriller?”

“So what, you want beer?” She turned around and looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“W-what? No—I don’t know. You have beer?”

“Well, technically it’s not mine,” Hannah shrugged her shoulders. Then she turned back to the fridge, “you think too slow, you get a coke, Spiderguy.”

“Yeah, sure. So what about the movie?”

“I don’t know.. you wanna watch Saw maybe?”

“Why do you have Saw?”

“Why are you so surprised with all the stuff I have, Peter?”

“It’s just—you hate horror movies,” he took the box from the shelf.

“I love-hate them. It’s like, they are terrifying, but I also can’t close my eyes. They scare the shit out of me, but I kinda like the adrenalin.

“You are adorable.”

“Shut up,” Hannah blushed slightly and let a small laugh. She then grabbed a bag of popcorn and put it into the microwave.

“So, tell me,” she jumped over the back of the couch and invited Peter to seat next to her, “how was your day, babyface?”

“You’ve really upped your nickname game, have you?” He sighed, placing himself near Hannah and wrapping his hand around her.

“Well, I can’t help that you are all of those nicknames,” she giggled, bringing her face closer to his.

“I missed you,” he whispered into her lips, closing his eyes.

“I missed you too, Peets.”

They slowly closed the space between them, merging into a gentle, soft kiss. The gentleness, however, didn’t last very long before growing into something more passionate. Peter didn’t even notice how his tongue slid into Hannah’s mouth, which made Hannah moan quietly, as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Peter leaned forward, pressing Hannah into the couch. His hand softly grabbed her shoulder, deliberately moving lower. As it reached her breast, he slightly squeezed it with a shaky hand, fetching out another moan from Hannah, louder this time. As his hand grabbed the end of her shirt, a loud beep broke the silence, causing the two to bounce away from each other.

“The-um, the p-popcorn—the popcorn is ready,” said Hannah with a husky voice, getting up from the couch and fixing her T-shirt.

“Y-Yeah,” Peter leaned back and lowered his gaze, staring at his fingers.

In complete silence there were only sounds of the opening microwave and rustle of popcorn. However, Hannah had a feeling that her thoughts were so loud the neighbors could hear them.

Oh my god oh my god oh my god

She was still breathing heavily; a weird, strong feeling was pumping inside her. She could feel her cheeks flaming red, however, the oddest thing was that everything was somehow… pleasant. The joy of unknown mixed with almost paralyzing fear made her legs tremble.

Hannah threw a quick loot at Peter.

He looks calm she thought, he’s not a virgin? We’ve never talked about this, but he seems to know what to do.

If a stare could cut, Peter would lose both of his hands by now. It felt like he swallowed a flame, everything inside him burned: his chest, his stomach, all the insides. It could look like Peter was just seating peacefully, waiting for the popcorn, but truth is, he simply couldn’t move. If his insides were on fire, his outsides were completely frozen.

Another huge problem was the boner he got the exact second they started to make out, and, comparing to all the other details of his physical state, that was on whole other level.

It was pulsating; pulsating so hard Peter felt it echoing in his head. He couldn’t think; he’s almost forgotten what language he spoke. The only thing left in his mind was the previous five minutes.

“So-um, Saw? Can you get the-um, can you start the movie?” Hannah still couldn’t get her mind together.

“Can—can you do it?” Peter blurted out as he grabbed the closest pillow to cover himself, “ I am, you know, I don’t want to-um, to break anything.”

At this point, Hannah has returned with a bowl of popcorn and two glass bottles of coke in her hands. She narrowed her eyebrows, looking at Peter.

“Pete, it’s just a dvd-player.”

“My hands—I think my hands are sweaty.”

“Oookay,” Hannah put the food on the table and examined Peter one more time before turning to the TV.

Right now, Peter was happy with their movie choice. Nothing is a bigger turn off, than gore and guts.

Hannah was confused. He didn’t want all this? But he did touch me, her body trembled as she thought of it again.

And so the movie started. However, it wasn’t long before the couple started yet another make out session. There were sounds of kisses in unison with people in the movie screaming. Weirdly, Peter was still holding a pillow.

“What’s up with the pillow?” Hannah breathed out.

“Nothing,” Peter said sharply, “nothing is up with the pillow.”

“Then why are you holding on to it?”

“I don’t.”

“Then let it go.”

“Why do you want me to let it go?”

“Cause I can’t make out with you with this goddamn pillow between us!” She grabbed the pillow and pulled it away. Noticing an obvious bump under his jeans, Hannah felt her cheeks flame up.

“You are.. exited.”

“H-hey, what do you want,” he looked away in embarrassment, “there’s a—a girl i really like and we keep kissing for almost half an hour now.”

“It’s—“

“We don’t have to do this.”

“What?”

“This,” he gazed at their position on the couch, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want. We can just watch the movie and—“

“No!” Hannah cursed herself for sounding so impatient, “I want to do this. It’s just… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Me neither,”

“Really?”

Wha—what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I dunno.. you don’t look like a virgin, I guess.”

“Are you serious? Half of the school calls me ‘Penis Parker’. AND I build Star Wars LEGO constructors. You might need to recheck your sources.”

“Hey, I love your LEGO constructors.”

“Well, you are welcome to have sex with me.”

Hannah went silent after the word. She looked at Peter with an uncertain expression. Peter realized the phrase he just said and went white.

“No-I, I didn’t mean—it’s not—“

Hannah chuckled and interrupted Peter’s mumbling with a kiss.

“Peter, let’s move to the bedroom. Couch is not the best place to lose virginity.”

“O—okay.”