#it’s literally so much information at once it can’t stick and I can’t process what any of it is saying

[kastukj]

Ok trying to read ballad of sword and wine and ngl the almost like 10 pages straight of political talk lost me a lot ngl

[anotheroceanid]

any tips on how to plot a story? Becuase I always come up with a vague idea but then i draw a blank because i have no idea how to put it in motion T~T

Opened my laptop to answer this, so it’ll be long. Still, I can make another post about it later if anyone else is interested. Important to say there isn’t a correct answer for that, each person does it their own way. That's how I do.

First, tell yourself the story: I know this probably sound silly, because technically we already know our stories, right? We know what we want to write. But then, I think that most of the times we have concepts, not stories. We have scenes we want to write, side characters that will show up in three chapters then die, so much dispersed information that we can’t properly link to write a cohesive story.

So, I literally tell myself my stories before I write any real paragraph. You can do it in multiple ways, you can write it down, record it, draw a mind map (I do it later in the process, but could work too at this point), explain it as if you were studying history (not a joke, I do that).

Think about, you won’t start teaching yourself French Revolution and go right into the Storming of the Bastille, even though is an important moment. You’ll first introduce yourself to the background, where it takes place, then you’ll name the main participants from each side, the time it lasted and its outcome. And all this in a very surface level. Only when it’s finished, you’d go into specifics.

Whatever way you feel works better for you, explain yourself your history.

Now that you know your history…

Second, pick a story structure: There are plenty of those, I particularly use the Freytag’s Pyramid. That’s what works for me. But there are many ways you can structure your story, and this you must personally try yourself each.

Here are some other examples for you to try:

Save the Cat

3-Act Story Structure

Fichtean Curve

Hero’s Journey (I personally prefer this to write characters arcs, but we’ll see it later)

Snowflake Method (I used this for some time, worked for me and I still use some elements of it)

Seven Point Structure

There are many other story structures you can try, the thing here is: the structure is meant to help you, not get you stuck. You can make changes in the story structure if you need to, the only thing that you must stick with it: Beginning (introduction of major characters and conflict), Middle (conflicts, development of the world and characters), End (conclusion of major characters arcs, be it good or bad).

Third, write the characters arcs: Even if you work has a lot of worldbuilding, what really drives your story are your characters. So, take your time to know your characters as they are in the beginning of the story, because these are the characters that will drive the plot. Who they are? Why they are like this? How do they look? How the way they look reflects how the world impacted them? Because the world also must affect your characters. How old are they? Do they behave accordingly to their age or not?

You must know where your characters are at the first chapter to know where they’re going from there. Do whatever it takes to get acquainted with them, create playlists, boards, draw them, make personality tests, etc.

Once you know who they are in the first chapter, you can start outlining their character arc.

But here is the thing, not character arc needs to be good. Sometimes, our characters get bad, sometimes they get good, and sometimes they don’t finish their character arcs (if you know you know). Treat your characters fairly, do not give them too much or too little unless it’ll impact them in the story.

You can have overpowered characters, but you’ll have to balance it with something else that’ll will drive their change throughout the story. You can have characters that are very delicate, but you’ll have to give them something to drive them to action, be it externally or internally.

Also, is important to know about your characters morals. Even if they’re in a grey area, what he’s more leaning to? What circumstances would drive them the other way? What are their priorities? What are their ambitions? What are the lengths they’re capable of going to reach it. Trust me, it’s important that your characters have ambitions. It doesn’t need to be something “in the real world” like a throne, or a job, or whatever. It can be living in safety; it can be learning something. But a character without ambition falls flat.

You can have morally good characters and morally bad characters, but even them must have something that readers can engage and identify with. Not necessarily something that turn them into a villain, not necessarily something that comes out as “they were never bad.”

For example, you can have an exceptionally nice character that makes choice that beneficiates themselves or a determined group that they personally support, it doesn’t turn them bad, because people will make choices all the time and it impacts other. At the same time, a mean character can be relatable through characteristcs that aren’t meant to be redemptive, they can be hardworking, they can have interests that not necessarily relate to their “mean” goal, they can even be on the “right” side but in a “reasons justify the means” way.

You need characters to take actions. Otherwise they'll become simply plot devices. And plot devices need to exist, don’t get me wrong, they can be useful. But the thing is: people don’t relate to plot devices. I could list a lot of characters with sob stories that were obviously meant to shock the audience, but I couldn’t care less about the sad things happened to them, because the author needed a bad thing to happen to go from point A to point B. Okay, I understand that. But it happened to a character we're constantly told we have to pity, and there is nothing else about them. People don’t care about plot devices, so if you want people to care and like your characters, give them agency.

Yeah, this is getting long. Sorry. But let’s talk about agency.

Allow your characters to make choices. Bad choices, good choices. Whatever choices they make, it needs to have consequences. A story without consequence is a weightless story. I  t’s also important to make the character make choices, even if they’re being highly manipulated by someone, they must—eventually—walk on their feet. The plot is consequence of the characters choices, so don’t let the character become the plot punchbag.

Trust me, it’s easier for a reader to enjoy an unlikable character with agency than a likable character that does nothing and never stands out for anything. Your character can be anything—annoying, ugly, spoiled, cruel, anything but agency-less.

Important to say: The characters are stupid. People are stupid in general, and we react terribly bad under stressful conditions. We’re like enzymes. We stop working if we’re not in the proper conditions of pH and temperature, some enzymes will work in the intestine, but others will only work if they’re in the stomach. Different enzymes work in different environments, and so do people. What drives a story is conflict, so your character is usually stressed. It’s not a 100% of the cases rule, but if you’re character is in a super tricky situation they never been in, don’t make it easy for them to get out of that. If everything turns out easily, why should I care if the character is in a live-or-die situation?

Of course, if they have fought two dragons and survived, I expect them to live when they fight the third dragon. But if they never fought any, I want a good explanation why they’re alive and cracking jokes. As I said, characters are like enzymes. Some will do well fighting dragons but will cry their eyes out if they’re exposed to a sea monsters. Each situation is different, so analyse it.

Now, the character arc.

Your character needs to go through change, they need to find out something at least. It doesn’t need to be a good change; they can become a worse person (negative arc). They can become a better person (positive arc). But they need to go through change. Even if you have an impressive worldbuilding, well-built universe rules, a functional magical system… Everything is meaningless if the character is conflict-less (internally or externally).

There are flat arcs, but they usually serve other purposes. You can read into it if you're interested, but I never focused much on it so... Let's keep going.

Your character arc takes character from point A to point C. Because between A and C there is B, that’s usually the moment the character thinks they have it all, or they give up their journey, then something happens, and they start moving toward C again.

Again, there are many ways to structure a character arc. I usually follow The Heroine’s Journey (Maureen Murdock) or The Virgin’s Promise (Kim Hudson). These were inspired by the Hero’s Journey (Joseph Campbell), which is great too, I just feel like these helped me more. They don’t have to necessarily be applied to female characters only, in the same way that the Hero’s Journey doesn’t have to be used for male characters only. This is just a structure to help you see how your character changes throughout the story and can be used to write any gender.

I recommend you reading the books, this will help you a thousand times more than I ever could.

These are archetypical structures. The “hero” and the “heroin” are archetypes, so is the “virgin.” I also recommend you reading about archetypes, because our characters usually fit one or other, and if you don’t know what’s your character archetype is, you should find out. It helps to identify problems, because sometimes you’ll fall into stereotypes that you not necessarily want.

Fourth, about side characters: In a way, all that I said applies to side characters. But at the same time, it doesn’t.

You don’t need your side characters to be as flashed out as your protagonist(s), but they need to have some depth. The way your side characters interact with your protagonists and vice-verse says a lot of your protagonist. If you create this real nice person, who is supposed to care about everyone and be a selfless person who would take a bullet for their best friend, don’t turn the best friend into the protagonist’s sidekick.

You know those 2000s movies with the usually POC, or queer coded or often regarded as less attractive friend is always there for the protagonist, but then they ask to ONE THING and the protagonist will be like “Actually, I have plans”. Yeah, that. Your very nice character can become a dumbass because they’re never showing empathy toward others, as your very mean character can become a fan’s favourite because they’re treating people with more respect than anyone else in the story. It can’t be intentional, it can’t be part of their character arcs, but if it’s not, beware.

The way the side characters interact with the main characters is as important as the character interacts with the world. The don’t need to have super detailed backstories, but they need to have something. A goal that’s not necessarily is related to the protagonist.

For example, Grover is Percy’s best friend and protector. But he’s main goal ain’t protecting or be Percy, his main goal is to find Pan. Which makes sense (and it makes me so sad, because I love Grover) why his story basically “ended” with PJO original series. He accomplished his goal, and though I’d love to see him amongst the Argo II crew, putting him in that situation would turn him into Percy’s sidekick and nothing else. He’d be throwing all his responsibilities away (he’s literally Lord of the Wild at that point) to help Percy, and though we can argue he could help… Gaea was rising, this probably affects the nature spirits he’s supposed to care.

And most importantly: Percy cares about Grover. We’re shown this multiple times throughout the story, and if he didn’t care as much about Grover (his first friend introduced into the story), we wouldn’t believe that his fatal flaw is personal loyalty.

We don’t know everything about Grover, but we know enough to not break the entire narrative when we think about his relationship with Percy.

Keep this energy with side characters. Not everyone needs their entire story to be told, but you need them to feel as their own person.

Same goes for characters that don’t like your main characters. Some characters can be annoying and mean, but why? Is there a reason this character pesters the protagonist? Are they prejudiced somehow? Does it have something to do with class? Is there a hierarchy that ends up facilitating that sort of behaviour? Why no one does anything? Is it jealousy? Are they getting something by acting like that? Was it caused by something the main character did in the past? Do you protagonist fights back or they don’t? In whatever case, why?

Not every character who dislikes the protagonist needs to be a villain. It’s normal that people might dislike others, nobody pleases everyone, is nice having characters who don’t think the protagonist is the most awesome person in the world.

Just like the main character, it’s important to allow side characters to make decisions and have agency. Even if the reader ain’t inside their mind, these characters need to have ambition. Sometimes, you can use them to drive the plot somewhere, or to teach the protagonist something. Again, look into archetypes it might help.

However, if you keep showing a side character and never gives them a moment to shine, it might disappoint your readers. At the same time, using a character mentioned twice without any foreshadowing might come out as a dumb solution for some conflict.

So beware how you use side characters.

Fifth, write as much as you can… but not chapters yet: If you, like me, is dealing with worldbuilding, timelines and different POVs, you should plan how will this work before you get into the actual story.

Now, you can draft the whole story down as it is in your head.

Again, you don’t need to necessarily write. You can record yourself, or you can draw (I do it a lot), make mind maps (which is my case, I make mind maps to see were different things meet), or you can write multiple paragraphs about it. Just make sure you have a general idea before you start writing, make slideshows, spreadsheets, etc.

Write think pieces about characters relationships, make memes, make incorrect quotes, anything that helps you set things up inside your head.

This is a part that never ends, because sometimes you’ll have to look back and see what is lacking, what needs to be done or redone. Don’t be afraid of coming back here, rearrange the plot points, redraw characters. Your first draft will hardly be the one you’ll stick with.

I use obsidian for worldbuilding. I cannot really explain how obsidian works; it’d be like trying to write down how to draw on Photoshop. But I use the canvas plugin to draw the plot as a mind map, and I also use canvas to make a linear timeline.

This is the outline for a part of my fic, I didn't screenshot it all because it'd be too big. But you get the idea.

This is my linear timeline, is very useful to check info quickly.

To outline chapters, I use spreadsheets. I make enough room for general info, then a little resume of the chapter, and the white blocks beside the chapter I can write what scenes I want for those chapters.

Again, very simple.

I check the spreadsheet occasionally, because I sometimes change order of chapters, or add something. Your outline is an asset not a rule, you can change it if you feel is not working.

Sixth, write: After you went through it all, writing will become much easier, I can assure. But even then, you’ll face moments in which you feel that you’re stuck. But if you can write one hundred words every day, is already better than no word at all.

If you feel it might help, try different writing tools, try editing your document to make it aesthetic and to fit your story vibe. I personally use scrivener (it’s great for organisation) for some stories, and for others I use Microsoft Office, but there are cheaper or free options. Obsidian does basically everything Scrivener does, but it’s a bit trick to use if you’re new. So, it might take some patience, and it’s not as editable as other software (unless you are now a bit of code, which is not hard but is also not for everyone), there is Google Doc, and some open-source options like Libre Office, you can even write on Notion (I used to, I have templates for it even).

When you’re writing, treat yourself. I make myself coffee or matcha, I put some music, or I buy myself cheesecake. Try not to make your writing session a “I have to do it” moment, enjoy it, even if you aren’t writing your intended 10k words (trust me, setting such ambitious goals won’t help you in anything).

Sometimes, nothing good will come out. Sometimes, you’ll feel like you should win a Pulitzer. Just enjoy writing and do be afraid of committing mistakes.

I think this is it. I wanted to go deeper into some things, I wanted to speak of antagonists and conflict more deeply, but it got big enough. I hope I made sense and I helped, be free to ask if my non-native english speaker ass wrote something senseless.

[0hbunny]

🫧Washing Plush Dolls🫧

NOTE:

I am VERY new to collecting these kinds of dolls. The doll shown above is literally the only one I have (as of right now…). That said please take everything I say with a grain of salt! This blog post is more of a log of my experience with washing my doll for the first time than a tutorial :)

Material List:

wash cloth (2x)

toothbrush (not used duh)

dawn dish soap

micellar water

tide to go stick/non bleach stain remover

blow dryer/fan

Prepping:

Before bath time there are some things I did to prep.

I started by taking off any stains on my doll. In this case mine had one on their embroidered paw on their foot. I used a “TideToGo” stick to get rid of it and it work wonders. I also heard great things about “Grandma’s Secret Spot Remover” too! Though as long as your stain remover doesn’t have bleach in it I THINK it will be fine, though I’m no expert.

After that I removed my doll’s blush. I did this by putting a little bit of micellar water onto a wash cloth and gently rubbing away where the blush was on my doll. When it comes to this please keep in mind a little goes a long way! Though I will say, I did asked some experienced plush doll collectors if I needed to remove the blush before a bath because I was scared of the blush getting moved around and staining the doll or embroidering. They told me it probably didn’t matter but it wouldn’t hurt. Do with that information what you will.

Bath Time:

Now for the actual bath I started by filling up a container with cold water and about 3 drops of dawn dish soap. (Please make sure it’s cold water because warm water makes things bleed!) Once everything was mixed together I took my toothbrush and dipped it into the mixture.

With the soapy mix I started scrubbing away at my doll. I was sure to be gentle over the embroidery in fear of loosening/damaging it if I was to rough with it. I made sure really get into all of the cracks and crevices too.

Once washed with soap I replaced the soapy water with just plain cold water. Then I scrubbed my doll again but this time with just the water. I made sure to dip my brush back into the water very frequently during this process. On my last scrub I brushed everything up in the same direction with my bruh.

Aftermath:

I placed my wet doll on a dry wash cloth and started to pat them dry with it. I was able to get the longer pieces of fabric (like the hair) pretty much dry with just the cloth but I can’t say that about the other parts.

For the other parts I used a mini fan to help the process go a little faster. (⤵️)

A blow dryer on the cold setting should also work for this if you’re impatient like me lolol. Good old fashion air drying should also work fine too but make sure it’s in a well lit room just to be careful of mold! I have also heard of people putting their dolls in pillowcases and throwing them into the drying machine along with a towel to cushion them more on a low setting. I have never tried this though personally so I’m not sure how well that would work and I’m to nervous to find out.

Also not going to lie I did not enjoy the smell of the “TideToGo” stick very much and I couldn’t get the smell to go away with just the soap and water so I did spray my doll with a bit of perfume. I’m not sure how safe/good this is for dolls but personally for me my doll turned out fine and now smells really good!

Conclusion:

This method worked very well for me I think! My doll is all clean and their hair feels so soft just like when I first got them which is very exciting. If anyone has any tips or thinks I should have done anything differently let me know! Also I’m here to answer questions too🫡 This is my first time making a blog post like this so I hope it was helpful and easy to understand!🙂

[skylarmoon71]

Matt Murdock (Daredevil) - Chapter 24 - Final

The break has finally come to an end and you’re excited. Foggy is moving back in and you can’t wait to see him.

Matt is just as excited, he’s just better at hiding it.

The second Foggy makes his way through the door you basically tackle him. You both end up on the floor laughing and Matt laughs at the soft thud.

“I guess you guys missed me huh?”

Matt nods.

“It wasn’t the same without you here.”

Foggy stands with a proud look.

“I would imagine.”

You roll your eyes at his little boast and he’s still grinning when he reaches over, placing an arm over Matt’s shoulders.

“So what have you two been doing while I was gone.”

It’s an innocent question, but your mind immediately goes to your joined activities.

“N-Nothing important!” You reply.

Your hurried words make Foggy raise a brow.

“Why are you acting so suspicious?”

“I-I’m not acting suspicious, you are!!”

You’re not doing much to defend your case. Foggy slowly pulls his arm away, looking between you and Matt. For a moment he’s just squinting but then his eyes widen.

“N-No way! Come on, I thought you promised never to do it in this room!” Matt is about to defend himself, but you’re blurting everything out once Foggy makes the discovery.

“I-It’s not my fault that he’s so good at this I can’t help myself!”

Foggy’s expression changes to pure disgust.

“Too much information!!”

It was an interesting reunion indeed.

Once you’ve thoroughly embarrassed yourself, it’s back to classes as usual. You’re getting used to the schedule and tedious lectures. One particular class that you have with Foggy just drones on. The second it’s finally over you just want to drop on your bed. Foggy laughs at your exasperated expression. The both of you had decided to cut through behind the baseball field to make it to the library. Foggy is ranting about his summer adventures and you listen with a smile.

“Then we went ziplining.”

You giggle.

“It sounds like you had an amazing summer.”

“Sure did, I almost got a tattoo. “

You can picture it now. With a smile, you adjust your bag matching pace with Foggy. For a second everything is normal, but you catch what sounds like a rush of air and you lift your hand. Foggy stumbles and you turn your palm over in surprise. Your hand is still somewhat extended, a baseball between your fingers.

You gape and so does Foggy.

“Dude…you just literally saved me from a baseball to the head. That’s awesome!! We’re definitely keeping this!”

He seems very excited, but you’re still a bit stunned. You’ve never had good reflexes, much less the ones necessary to catch a ball without even seeing it coming.

This is something.

~Later That Night~

“Hurry up, the cops are coming.”

The hushed whisper of men shoving cash into a truck had Matt titled his head. He eased over to the side of the building, marking the amount of heartbeats.

“Six.”

He had the advantage of surprise.

When he threw the stick, it struck two of the men right in the head and that’s when the chaos started.

Yells echoed, so did the sound of gunshots. He’d managed to subdue four of them and collected a few punches in the process. His ribs hurt, that was for sure. But there were only two men left and he could already hear the police sirens. He blocked the first couple punches from the one behind, but he hadn’t managed to dodge the blade that sliced his cheek.

He stumbled back at the contact and his assailant grinned, watching the blood dripping down. Matt was prepared to shake it off and push forward, but the sensation on his skin caused him to pause.

For a moment he assumed it was poison, but the warmth on his cheek wasn’t numbing his body. It felt similar to the times that you’d healed his wounds. There was a dull ache, and then it was gone.

Both men had stopped moving, and he heard the unsteady beats of their hearts. It sounded like fear.

“What the hell…”

The one with the knife was shocked and Matt didn’t wait longer to dwell on what happened to urge those words. He threw both sticks and they bounced right off the heads of his attackers, jumping right back into his palms as their bodies dropped unconscious. He was quick to make his escape, right before he heard the wheels of a squad car skate to a stop, apprehending the poorly hidden drug dealers.

After his little escapade, he felt obligated to drop by your place. He’d managed to make it back to his dorm when he decided to shoot you a message. One had come into his phone right at that moment.

“Can you stop by tonight, something weird happened today.”

He responded immediately, positive that his weirdness was much more crazy than yours.

When he got to your apartment however, it seemed you both had an equal amount of weird.

“You caught it?”

“Yeah and I didn’t even see it coming. It was like my body felt it before it even came. I just sort of heard it at the back of my head and instinct kicked in. It was strange. I’m not exactly ninja level so for me this is really unusual.”

He titled his head to the right.

“Tonight while I was doing my patrol I got sliced on my cheek with a blade.”

Your eyes widened.

“What! Are you okay?” you rushed to his side to search for the wound, but there was none.

“There isn’t anything here..” You mumble.

He nods.

“Exactly. I think..I think my body healed itself. Just like the way you’ve done.”

That was not what you expected at all.

“So..you somehow have my abilities and I have yours?”

“That’s what it seems like, but how. We haven’t exactly been carrying out experiments and I’m pretty sure I haven’t injected any of your blood into my system.”

He was right, so how was it possible? You kept racking your brain when something occurred to you. Heat rushed to your cheeks the minute you realized.

“Oh my gosh…”

Matt’s brows knitted.

“What is it?”

“I-It’s because we’ve been having sex. That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

It had to be that. Before you started you had the reflexes of a sloth.

“You..might be right.”

It was strange, but given what you were capable of, maybe your abilities did have a bit of transferring properties. The realization of what this meant was a bit frustrating.

“We probably shouldn’t have sex until we figure this out. It could be dangerous.” You had a feeling he would say something like that. The thought of you in any danger would immediately make him protective. Although he said that, you could tell that he wasn’t very ecstatic about it. Neither were you.

“S-So no sex..” You mumble.

He nodded, clearing his throat and looking away.

It was so unfair, you’ve literally just discovered the pleasures of it and now you need to restrain yourself.

“I should probably go.” He states.

“Yeah..”

Despite those words, you’re both just lingering in place. Your eyes run over him hungrily. You’re not sure if it’s the fact that you’re going to have to refrain for the time being that makes him look so enticing. Matt lets out a breath, gulping.

“(Y/N),”

His voice sounds a bit scolding. It’s clear that he’s reading your body’s reaction and it’s making him waver.

“We shouldn’t.” He says that, but there is a falter in his voice.

“You’re right, we shouldn’t.” You agree.

One breath, that’s all that’s exchanged on either side before you close the space and you’re basically tearing each other’s clothes off.

“F-Fuck..”

Matt groans when you tear his shirt open.

Looks like you’ll both just have to get used to the exchange. You can’t really say that you’re complaining.

Neither is Matt. 

[spidercrusadersworld]

Sooo info dump, here’s what everyone thinks of Maya and vis versa, ALSO UPDATE, MARGOS AGE HAS CHANGED SO THAT SHE IS IN THE AGE RANGE TO BE DATING MAYA.

So ham and Maya are acquaintances

Maya is like super protective of like, innocent little kids, it’s kinda like a “you remind me of myself when I was younger, innocent and un traumatized” kinda thing. And since mayday is like… A LITTERAL CHILD. She’s obviously going to be like, on protective older sister mode around her, and Mayday loves it. Though he does constantly scold Peter b for bringing HIS LITTERAL CHILD ON LIFE THREATENING MISSIONS.

Jessica drew knows that Maya exist and that’s it, Maya thinks Jess is a stone cold badass, and really wants to advise her against, once again DOING LIFE THREATENING STUNTS FLIPS AND ECT WHILE FUCKING PREGNANT! Bad ass? Yes. Good for the babies health and development in any way? NO!

Since miles has only been around a bit, and during that “bit” he was being hunted down by LITERALLY EVERYBODY! Maya isn’t as good friends with him as she could be, all she knows is that Gwen talks about him nonstop, and says only good things so she trusts him, in fact she didn’t try to chase him down during the whole YOU ARE AN ANOMALY incident because he was actually the only spider who actually stood up to the messed up cannon event system, and made some really good points. So he has instantly urned her respect.

Maya and Miguel both hold grudges on each other, Miguel hates maya because she doesn’t approve of the spider society, constantly challenging and questioning orders before finally giving in. Maya hates Miguel because he turned his back on the people hurt by cannon events, without even trying to fix it. She hates the fact that the peoples around hers sole job is to take away the choices of innocent people, so she usually sticks to spider recruitment.

Noir is easily impressed, being from a universe in the middle of World War. He is actually one of the first people Maya was sent to recruit, but when noir saw maya, in colour he knew right away that she was from another dimension, so there was no difficulty in trying to convince him to join the spider society, noir, in Mayas eyes is a stone cold bad ass facist fighting detective who uses the coolest most dramatic slang ever to say the simplest things but is also good to talk to with personal stuff because he seems to always have a unique view on things. Maya in noirs eyes is a kid that has been through way to much shit and needs to be protected at all costs, he is amazed on how she is still so strong and optimistic about life despite her past traumas. more often than not noir will be the one talking to maya about his troubles, because he envy’s her different more optimistic perspective on things that he can be very pessimistic about. They kinda have an unspoken connection that they both know the other knows that they know that they have. But occasionally maya will go and drop by drawings of him in colour along with pencil crayons and colouring sheets, and he will drop by little thank you notes with gummy’s attached. They always go on missions to find anomaly’s together.

Hobie was the one to recruit Maya, Gwen was also there but wasn’t there for the whole explanation of cannon events, when Maya adresses her concerns over the system to Miguel’s face, she immediately has been put in hobies good books, most people go into silent shock trying to process all the information and breakdown alone, and just shut up and accept that life isn’t always fair and you can’t do both. So maya and hobie get close, they become two people who secretly talk shit about the establishment, and hobie has mad respect for that, hobie is like the cool older sibling maya always wished she had, and hobie is secretly very protective about her, and is always ready to be the shoulder to lie on. They both spend hours theorizing on how to disrupt the cannon with out breaking the world.

Peter has kinda unofficially adopted Maya, kinda like how the Stacy’s and the Parker’s where unofficial family in Gwen’s universe, the Parker’s are like the family she never had, and are always there when Maya feels lonely or overwhelmed, she often comes to MJ for advice, and comes to Peter for comfort. Peter hopes that Mayday grows up to be just like her. Peter and Maya relate in a lot of ways, in the sense of that they both know how it feels to be truly alone, and maya sees Peter as living proof that things get better. While noir goes to maya for support, and new perspective, it’s maya who goes to the Parker’s for support and a new perspective.

Gwen and maya are both very closed off people, who like to help other people open up to each other, so they are pretty much each others venting buddy. Gwen goes for maya for relationship advice about miles, and Maya goes to Gwen for relationship advice about Margo (more on that later). They both are introverts who ironically act like extroverts around each other. Maya thinks that Gwen is a stone cold badass, and might have gotten a hair cut NOT IDENTICAL but resemblant of hers, because it looks so cool on Gwen.

Pav is like the little brother maya has, him hobie and her are a squad. Pav likes to nerd out with maya about stuff she never had any one else to talk about with before. She is very protective of him also.

Margo and maya are two people who are stone cold badasses with literally anyone else, but are hopeless gay idiots around each other, they are friends, they have the same interests and values, and can finally really be themselves around each other literally the entire spider squad constantly tries to get them together but Maya is still traumatized by her last gf’s death so she is the most hesitant. They are very gay and very wholesome together.

Peni is another part of Mayas found family, and she must be protected at all costs, her and peni hangout and play Mincraft together on weekends and eat junk food.

[theamityelf]

dude hear me out on the mpreg aliens bc it gen makes sense for them and I am going to explain this cause it’s kinda cool idk?

ok look as a space faring species population groups are small or non existent, so kn order to avoid dying out they had to adapt to semi asexual reproduction. The mechanics of it I could go into intensely cause it’s something a lot of my other species use if they’re spread over a wide area. To put it simple and without making it WEIRD: one member of the species has both ingredients for la child, but forcing these two ingredients together requires external actions ah la the demonic tango from hell either by yourself or with others. Or surgery. Or a lot of things actually depending on species, some guys kinda just grow little plants literally it’s like jellyfish. Anyways, to keep genetic variation since not having that is bad, the species of aliens (I’m calling them gorpos but obv that’s not gonna be their official names) can co create with other species that are similar to them. By similar, I mean neuron number to body mass (the reason why humans are so… human… is because we have a large number of neurons in compared to our mass). This is just to avoid any freaks making shit I don’t want them too. anyways, this process mixes genes and then sometimes mpreg happens wether or not someone has a womb in the relationship (or we get Yuri but like… hyenas…) because the Gorpos come from these small, like jelly looking eggs, if you’ve seen a mermaids purse (which I used to collect the fuck out of) like imagin that but it doesn’t have the horn things and it’s clear because baby gorpos are translucent. Little guys. The other thing is that like… Gorpos are like just as if not more intelligent as us, some of them just have like a thing for breeding… or mpreg… idk their their own guys they can be whatever they want to

Anyways cannibalism-

that’s another neat thing for them but first ima talk about how their mouths are set up. First thing is their tongue curls, it’s like a probiscus but it’s got this really really thin needle (basically, if they wanna exchange a language or information, they fucking French each other and stick this needle in each others brains, some can do this across species. Freaks) and it’s very sensitive. Two, their mouths are absolutely full of fucking knives. Evolution kinda fucked them over on this one, that’s why they gotta keep their tongue curled up. Three is if you see one with its mouth visible outside of feeding, run. Basically if they see something that looks like them with a visible mouth or no antenna, it’s their uncanny valley since that means something is BERY wrong (Junko).

ok so they very much are built for eating raw meat literally, and that’s what they do. Cannibalism occurs when a whelp is exposed either during the parents pregnancy or after birth in intense levels to ethereal energy. All gorpos have ethereal energy (call this god energy), and those with increased amounts turn to cannibalism to get more. This gets them closer and closer to ascension. Izuru was probably forced to cannibalize at first, but ethereal energy is more addictive than heroin so at a point you can’t stop. Once ascended, they are a god. Now this cannibalism thing actually isn’t odd for gods, who only feed on each other, like dog eat dog literally, but for most species this ain’t good. It’s not healthy either because cannibalism can have many long term health problems both mentally and physically. izuru strong but at what cost… WHAT COSTTTTT… freakiness that’s the price. also cannibals tend to give themselves more teeth, what I’m saying is that Izuru gotta be careful giving Makoto kissu so he doesnt hurt him.

Oh, I'm firmly in favor! You don't have to defend mpreg aliens against me, I promise! I would accept it if it was just for fun. (And you also don't have to avoid getting weird. We're all weird. 😊)

The neuron number to body mass thing is a really interesting way to distinguish the viable species. And I like the "If the mouth is visible, you should be afraid" thing and what it implies about how they would interact with/perceive humans. (Kind of like smiling being taken as a sign of aggression because baring teeth, etc.)

This is a cool AU! Avid supporter of Izuru "Mouthful of Knives" Kamukura rights.

[raphael-simp]

Two Years Ago - Raph x Reader

You never liked talking much.

Never really knew why, you just didn't. Of course, you would still carry a conversation to be polite, but the answers were short and spoken barely above a whisper. There were many times where you tried to change this about yourself, but the attempt didn't last for more than five minutes before you shrunk back into yourself again.

Then how the hell were you friends with four, loud and rowdy mutant teenage boys?

You didn't even know the answer to that one.

And to be honest, the memory of how you met the four of them was still slightly hazy. Of course, Donnie told you what had happened to you, but you personally didn't believe it. Why would robot alien beings want to kidnap a random girl walking home from her night shift? It still didn't make sense to you, nearly two whole years after it happened.

You were fourteen going on fifteen when you first met the four.

You worked at the convenience store not even two blocks from your apartment building, and you had switched shifts with your co-worker Abbigail so she could attend a funeral, which meant you now had the night shift.

It wasn't that big of a deal to you; she asked, you agreed, nothing more was said on the matter.

You texted your parents to inform them of the shift change and told them not to wait up for you, which they obviously denied much to your annoyance.

The shift ended at ten o'clock, but you still needed to do till and make sure the money count on the register matched with what you'd counted. That process alone took you about half an hour, so you really didn't leave until ten thirty. You made sure you switched off all the lights and locked all the entrances before you put the store keys in your jacket pocket and began your short walk home.

It was nearing winter, so the weather was beginning to turn cold, and you weren't exactly the best at dealing with temperature drops. You stood tensed as you speed walked towards your apartment building, wanting to get out of the darkness as fast as you could. There was one building near the end of the street that you almost always completely ran past; a run down looking, white parking garage with the paint peeling and chipping everywhere. It creeped you the hell out, mostly because there were always these two guys that stood at the old entrance, their stare boring into your back as you'd run past. Every day you expected them to run after you or shoot at you, but they never did anything.

Until tonight.

When you looked you didn't see them anywhere, and although you thought it would soothe you, it just made you more anxious.

'Where are they...?' You thought to yourself, nervously glancing around, trying to find the two.

Let's just say you didn't have too look far.

A large white van came screeching around the corner, running over the curb and nearly into you before it lurched to a halt. The back doors flew open and three identical looking men filed out and made their way towards you. In fact, they looked like the men that would always watch you at the entrance to the parking garage...

You literally froze. You didn't scream, move or look away until one picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. After that, you screamed absolute bloody murder, praying you'd get the attention of someone- anyone -that could do something to help you. Thankfully, help came rather quickly, just not in the way you thought.

You fought as hard as you could to at least get the man to slightly falter his grip around you; you punched, kicked, pounded- you even bit him, but it hurt you more than him.

You flailed like a fish out of water and kept screaming, even louder if possible as you got carried closer and closer to the back of the van.

Your voice was cut off when you landed harshly on the ground, trying to use your hands to catch yourself but only hurting yourself even more. You were a shaking mess, trying so hard not to cry but suspectingly failing, bursting into tears and sitting down properly, hugging your knees tightly to your chest as you cried into them. You were absolutely terrified out of your skull.

When someone tried to touch you, you screamed again, though it came out more as a strangled cry than anything else. You'd hurt your throat badly from all of your screaming and had no doubt lost your voice because of so.

"Well we can't just leave her crying in the streets, dudes. We gotta do something!"

You heard hushed voices talking a bit in front of you, but didn't bother to look up or fight. You wouldn't do that unless they actually did something, and that was what you were waiting for.

You cried to yourself, waiting to either calm down or for whoever was in front of you to do... whatever.

But they never did anything, they were quiet for the forty five minutes you were crying and calming yourself down.

"You're gonna be okay, alright?"

You slightly looked up from your knees, and honestly at this point, four giant turtles standing in front of you didn't phase you right now.

One of them was kneeling in front of you, it was wearing a tattered red mask and looking directly at you, with electrifying green eyes.

It looked up at one of the others, but you didn't bother to follow his gaze, your eyes were too tired.

"Don, do you need t' look at 'er?"

"I don't see anything major wrong with her, I think it's just shock right now... to be safe I wanna take a look at her, if she'll let us of course."

It looked back at you, the one with the red mask, and you did your best to keep your eyes open and listen to what he had to say. You were just so tired...

"My brother wants t' take a look at 'cha t' make sure ya weren't hurt too bad durin' that whole thing, okay? You alright with that?"

You barely nodded your head and lied it on your knees, involuntarily passing out.

When you woke up after that, you started freaking out and tried to scream, but found you barely had a voice. You were achy and sore all over and you could barely remember why.

Of course, you properly freaked out when you saw the four turtle figures again, but the ones in red and purple- who were the only ones in the room with you at the time- explained everything that had happened.

Donnie had picked up radio chatter that the Kraang were going to abduct another test patient that night, and the turtles rushed to the location that was shared, and ended up there just in time to help you and destroy the Kraang bots.

You hadn't been too badly hurt; bruised arms and shins from pounding on the metal robots, scraped hands, scraped knees, and a possible emotional blackout, to explain why you didn't remember what had happened to you.

You merely nodded along, trying not to stare too much at the two creatures in front of you, who introduced themselves as Raphael and Donatello.

"(Y-Y/N)...." you stuttered out, thinking that they at least deserved to know your name, after all they've done. Your voice was barely above a whisper, so the boys had to listen carefully to hear your name.

Raph and Donnie smiled, glad to hear that you at least trusted them to that extent.

You asked what time it was, and nearly flipped shit when Donatello told you it was almost 1:30 in the morning. Your parents were going to absolutely lose their minds on you! You scrambled to stand up and nearly fell over, thankful that Raphael had caught you.

"I-I need to get h-home." You breathed out, avoiding eye contact and trying to hide your face behind your (H/C) hair, to hide the fact you were red. Why you were red-faced?

You had no clue.

"I'll take ya. There ain't no way in hell you're goin' alone after this." Raphael stated, standing you back up on your own two feet. You would've fought him on it, had you not have agreed with him. If those Kraang guys still wanted you...

you didn't want to be left alone again. So you just nodded and let him walk you out. You didn't see the other two brothers while you walked out, so you assumed they were somewhere else.

Raphael led you around the systems of the sewer and helped you out of the manhole cover, and once out you took a deep breath of fresh air and closed your eyes in an attempt to clear your thoughts.

"I know you've had a rough night doll face, but we should probably get going."

Your eyes snapped open and you felt your face go warm, and instinct brought you to hide your face with your hair and jacket sleeve. You avoided his gaze and just nodded, speed walking to the sidewalk until you realized:

You had no idea where you were.

"Wh-where are we...?" You wheezed out, slightly turning to face Raphael.

"Just a couple blocks from where we found ya. We gotta take the roofs though... can't really walk out in th' street lookin' like I do."

You nearly asked why until it hit you like a brick. Again, you just nodded and climbed up the fire escape after him. You took notice how some of the roofs were pretty far apart, and hoped to God he didn't expect you to jump over them. Thankfully he didn't, and tried to stick to a route that involved just taking a step across. But for those that involved jumping, he just lifted you onto his shell and jumped across before setting you back down again.

Each time he did so he'd ask if you were okay, and you nodded in response hiding your face. And each time, he'd smile and mutter a small "cute," under his breath, which he didn't know you heard.

Once he brought you to where he and his brothers had found you, he told you to lead the way to your apartment, and you pointed him in the right direction. "So," he started, "Kinda wish we coulda met under better circumstances, (Y/N)."

You nodded in response, keeping your gaze down and stepping over a wooden plank. How the hell'd that get there?

"...You're shy, aren't cha?" Raphael asked, and again you nodded. Not only that, it hurt to talk, but he assumed correctly. He chuckled and lightly nudged your shoulder with his.

"Ya don't gotta be 'round me, I don't bite... much."

You looked up at him with both confusion and shock written all over your face, and it just made him laugh.

"Relax (Y/N), I'm kidding... just a little though."

You rolled your eyes, and yet you couldn't help the small smile that danced across your face.

The both of you walked Ina comfortable silence until you saw your apartment building across the street and elbowed Raphael's arm, pointing to it.

"This is my stop." You whispered, not daring to bring your voice above that. He nodded and hoisted you onto his shell, having to go around the roof tops to avoid going down to the streets. He set you down on your apartment roof, once again asking if you were okay.

"I'm fine, Raphael." You responded, pushing your hair behind your ear. He smiled at you and slightly tilted his head.

"Call me Raph, doll face."

You bit the inside of your lip and looked down, nodding your head. You didn't want him to see your warm and red face, it was extremely embarrassing for you.

"Hey," Raph's voice made you slightly look up, since he wanted your attention. He handed you a folded piece of paper with a number scribbled on it- wait, was this his phone number? Was a guy giving you his phone number? To your face?

"You don't gotta, but if ya don't wanna walk home alone again I'm available if ya need it."

You completely lifted your head to look Raph directly in the face, and he took pride in one thing; making you smile like that. You have him a single nod and held the paper with both hands.

"Trust me, I will.. Raph."

Now it was his turn to smile.

The two of you just stood on the roof for a couple minutes, staring and smiling at each other before something on his belt beeped. He jumped a bit in surprise and glanced at it.

"That's my brothers- I gotta go. You'll be okay?" He asked, taking a small step back.

You nodded, putting the paper in your pocket. "I'm home now. Go."

His smile grew and he backed up towards the edge of the roof.

"Try not t' get into trouble doll face! Just save a little to give me an excuse t' save ya again!" He shouted, just before jumping to the roof next to yours and taking off, eventually disappearing.

"I think I like that. Doll face..." you thought to yourself, still smiling like an idiot. You stood on your roof for God knows how long more before you came to your senses and carefully climbed down your fire escape and slid through your window.

.

"Was that really two years ago...?" You thought to yourself, flipping a pen between your fingers.

Yup. It was.

Two years ago these four boys saved your life, and two years ago you met the boy that kinda saved you, in a way.

It took him time, but he got you to slowly expand your comfort zone. You didn't stutter every time you spoke anymore, and you didn't respond with simple gestures anymore and used actual words that really carried a conversation. And at the same time, you helped him.

You kinda found out about his anger the hard way, having him lash out at you when he was beyond pissed off, and though it did hurt, you didn't blame him. In fact, you made it your goal to try and help him with it.

He'd expressed to you before how he'd never liked his short temper, and so you helped him. You showed him ways that he could release stress and repressed emotions, like actually using his drum kit and playing when he got pissed, or just sitting with you and either talking, or just sitting in silence.

Coming up in December would actually be a year since Raph had asked you out, too.

It didn't really come as a surprise to most, since the both of you were pretty open about affection with each other even before you two decided to make it official, just because.

The two of you would always sit close together, hold each other's hand, cuddle each other and he'd even kiss your cheek every now and again. Every movie night, you bet that the two of you would sit or lie with each other, and Raph would play with your hair or lightly trace an invisible pattern on your arm.

All in all, it wasn't really a surprise to Raph's brothers, April or Casey when he'd asked you out. The only person it surprised was you, but even then you'd accepted in a heartbeat.

And to this day, he still calls you doll face.

Two years later, the boy's nearly eighteen and you the same, you've found a new family.

And a new love.

"(Y/N), doll face, cmon we're headin' out with or without ya!" You rolled your eyes and smiled, shoving the pen in your jean pocket and getting up, grabbing your jacket.

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming Raph!" You called, walking out of his room and slipping your arms through your jacket sleeves as you jogged out to the entrance to meet the boys.

About a year ago, after you'd actually learned how to properly, they let you join along on some of their patrols. Raph made you carry a small dagger though. Just in case you got separated and something happened to you.

Speak of the devil, he heard you coming up behind him and turned around smiling. He extended his arm to you, waiting for you to end up at his side before putting his arm around your waist and pulling you close to his side, kissing the top of your head.

"All ready and fashionably late, doll face?"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, shoving him while failing to hide a smile of your own.

"Shaddup Raph, I was doing important things." You said, zipping your jacket up.

He just chuckled and raised his arms in mock defence.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry baby." He said, lightly pressing his lips to the side of your head and cheek in chaste kisses. You turned your head at the last second to catch his lips in a quick kiss. While he smiled and put an arm around your shoulders, Mikey mock gaged.

"Yup, think I'm gonna hurl-" he said, making a queasy face. Raph reached out with his free hand and punched his baby brother in the shoulder.

"Oh shut it Mike, not like ya don't see it regularly." Mikey hit Raph's arm back, which quickly escalated into an arm punching war. You tried not to laugh too much, looking over to Leo and Donnie, who were trying to do the same thing.

"Alright alright alright guys, that's enough!" Leo called, laughing a bit to himself.

"We gotta get going before it gets too late, we gotta take (Y/N) home by midnight. Let's move out!"

With those words, the five of you took off running towards your normal exit to the top world.

//////

gUIS IM IN ABSOLUTE L O V E WITH THIS ONE SHOT I LOVED WRITING IT SO GOD DAMNED MUCH AAAAAHHHHHHHH

PS THIS WAS WRITTEN AT LIKE 11 pm - 2:30 am SOOOOOOOOO

[slasherhaven]

Bo Sinclair X Reader

Part 1 HERE

People wanted a part 2, so here you go!

Soulmate AU: shared pain and shared scars part 2:

What had started with you and some friends trying to get a fan belt for their car and maybe some mild flirting with the man who owned the garage, had all ended in hell breaking loose. Bo had been charming and helpful, you had felt an instant connection to him, the type of connection that soulmates so often talked about.

At first you had been disappointed that he didn't seem to recognise your scars, proving he wasn't your soulmate, but now you were thankful for it. At least you weren't cosmically tied to the man who had just turned and attacked your friends.

He had shot Wade and Carly had disappeared. You had been dragged to a basement beneath the garage and left there, him promising to deal with the rest of the group you came with before returning.

Out of the people you came on the road trip, you only really knew Carly. She was the only one you would truly have to mourn but seeing Wade shot like that and knowing the others were next was undeniably traumatic.

Left alone in the basement, you tried to find a way out but there was only a heavy locked door between you and your freedom. When trying to open it failed, you settled for banging on it and shouting for help. You hoped that some other of Carly's friends would come looking for the three of you when you were gone for so long, maybe they would hear you and you could get out of here.

It was impossible to tell how much time passed, hands becoming bloodied from repeatedly hitting the door, throat becoming sore from shouting. But you were finally interrupted by the sound of a car approaching. You stopped and stepped away from the door, looking up at the ceiling as the car came to a stop.

God, you hoped it was somebody from the camp...

You began to panic as you heard feet descending the stairs outside of the locked door, moving yourself further away from it. You heard the lock clicking before the door was pushed open, Bo stepping into the dimly lit basement.

"Stop banging on the fucking door" Bo snapped, clearly frustrated despite likely not having heard it if he was out in his truck...

You didn't respond but he moved closer and you noticed that he had left the door open. At this point, you had run out of options and had to take every opportunity that presented itself.

You suddenly darted towards the door, trying to pass him, but it was fruitless. Bo quickly caught you, grabbing you by the arms and standing in front of you to further block your path. You thrashed and fought against him but it was no use.

"The others?..." you asked, dread clear in your voice.

"My brother is dealing with them" Bo informed you, like it was nothing.

"...are you going to hurt me?" you were already sure of the answer, you just didn't know what he wanted from you. Why had he left you in the basement rather than just disposing of you like he had done the others.

"No. That would be, quite literally, self destructive" he chuckled darkly. He was too calm, you just knew what he had done to your friends...he had done before.

"What?" you didn't understand his comment.

Bo grabbed your wrist, his bloody hand wrapped completely around the scarring on your wrist, almost like it was instinctual. As he released your other arm, you tried to pull your hand away but his grip was too tight. With his free hand, he pulled up the sleeve his coveralls, revealing scarring that was identical to yours.

You stared at the twisted skin, processing what this meant. You had been right from the beginning when you first saw him, this was your soulmate.

"No...no" you shook your head, trying harder to pull your wrist out of his grasp. You just kept repeated the word 'no' as tears streamed from your eyes. How could you soulmate be somebody who did such awful things.

"Shhh, it's alright" Bo cooed, almost ironically. He continued to shush you as he pulled you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

Your brain told you that you should be a far away from him as possible, to kick and scream, but his embrace was strange comforting. Of course it was, you were fated to find comfort in his arms. Destined to meet him and love him. The universe wanted you both together, it was meant to be.

Maybe that was why your body began to relax as you cried into his chest, clutching at his coveralls. You hated him, you wanted to hate him, you needed to hate him. Yet, you were destined not too.

Bo kept you held against his chest and you couldn't even find it within yourself to pull away, finding comfort in the source of your pain.

Slowly, the sinking realisation settled. If you were Bo's soulmate, there was no way he was letting you leave. He had already made sure that there was nobody left to tell anyone where you were. If anyone eventually worried about your group going missing, they would assume you all ran off somewhere or eventually decide that you were the next mysterious case of missing people. It was unlikely anyone would track you down to a random, deserted, little town.

"You're home now" Bo whispered into your hair.

You sobbed at the realisation, and yet you clung tighter to him. He just held you tighter.

Bo smirked to himself as he ran a hand over your hair, only to have you shift closer to him. He knew that you hated him but he was confident that would change over time. Just from the way you were acting now, he knew he could win you over, and he knew you wouldn't be leaving him.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up" you didn't respond as he pulled away, grasping your arm before guiding you out of the basement.

He kept hold of your arm as he walked you through Ambrose, towards the house he had taken you too earlier that day. As you were walking along the road, a familiar truck pulled up beside you both, bringing you to a halt.

Lester, the man who had brought you into Ambrose in the first place, hopped out of the truck.

"Everything's cleaned up" he informed Bo before looking at you and grinning. "they're your soulmate?" Bo just nodded, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side. "It must be your lucky day" Lester teased his brother, who only rolled his eyes. You frowned a little. Meeting your soulmate was meant to be a good, a lucky, day...unfortunately this had also been one of the worst days of your life.

"Go see how Vincent is doing, alright?" Bo asked, sending his younger brother away.

Lester just rolled his eyes before climbing back into his truck. He had wanted to stick around and get to know his brother's soulmate a bit more, but he understood that you were probably shaken.

Finally, you and Bo returned to his house and he led you into the kitchen, where he sat you down in a chair. You stayed silent, processing, as he washed his hands in the sink, washing the blood away.

Once his hands were clean, he wet a cloth and returned to you, pulling a chair out opposite you before sitting down.

He grasped your hands and you allowed him too, letting him pull them into his lap as he began to wipe away the blood.

"You're in shock and you're angry but you'll come around" Bo sounded sure about that but you supposed he had every right to be, you were his soulmate after all. You had to come around. "You know I can't hurt you, or let anyone else hurt you, right?" he asked and you just nodded. Of course he can't hurt you, it would only be hurting himself. Literally. At least you had that peace of mind.

You watched as he cleaned your hands, it was almost tender. A complete contrast to the cruelty he had treated the rest of your group with.

"Why did you do all this?" you asked quietly when it fell silent.

"I'll explain everything later" Bo promised, knowing he had a lot to explain and that he had to tell you everything. You would find out one way or another.

You just nodded, hanging your head. "Hey, c'mon now, the worst is over" he reassured you, lifting a hand to wipe a tear from under your eye with his thumb. "I know this probably ain't how you expected to meet your soulmate but you're gonna be just fine, darlin'" he did sound genuinely sympathetic, at least to some extent.

Removing his hand from your face, Bo stood from his chair, going to drop the now bloodied rag into the sink.

You weren't sure what came over you but you quickly grabbed his hand, stilling him. You just felt safer, the closer he was. A instinctual part of you wanted him to remain close, as if it didn't understand the nuance of the situation. He seemed a little surprised but turned to you expectantly.

"How did you get those scars?" you asked. Something you had wondered all your life.

"You still feel bad for me?" Bo asked, almost sarcastically, like he couldn't imagine you having any sympathy for him anymore.

"You were a child...I would never blame you for that" you shook your head.

"...I'll tell you later, okay? When you actually want to talk to me" Bo promised. You opened your mouth but quickly shut it again, knowing he was right. How could you talk to him about something like that after what he just did? You shouldn't have even asked.

You reluctantly released his hand, letting him dispose of the cloth.

You didn't want to admit it but you knew that eventually you would want to talk to him, that your fated connection would become much stronger than your determination to hate him for the horrible things he has done. There would come a day when you simply...didn't care anymore, and you would want him by your side despite it all.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 7)

a/n: aaand part 7 is finally here! however i want to warn yall that we are nearing the end of NHIE, im planning on having one more part and i don’t think it’ll be any longer, so enjoy while it lasts! lmao as always, feedback is very much appreciated!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 5.7k

warning: some slight violence? it’s the good kind, you’ll see lmao

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Sitting in your trailer you stare down at your phone longingly, rereading Harry’s last text.

“Miss you, hope everything is alright. Facetime when you’re free?”

You hate how your chest is aching at such a small and sweet thing. If you had the chance, you’d run into Harry’s arms without a second thought, but you are stuck in Atlanta while he is currently back in LA, feeling farther away than ever, in every sense.

It’s been three weeks since you left the city and parted ways with Harry. You hated it. You absolutely hated how he was looking at you and how you was about to cry in his fucking Range Rover as he was dropping you off at the airport. You tried to make it quick so you don’t get too caught up in the moment, but the moment he kissed you, it was over for you. For a split second you were ready to cancel on the whole movie and just stick with the plans you made before you got the role, but that wasn’t really an option.

Since that day, Harry has been very respectful of your will to keep some distance, he always checks in before trying to call to make sure you have time, he doesn’t text you about the most random things like he used to, maybe because you both are so busy, you basically live on set while he has left for his tour exactly a week ago, and you can tell he is trying his best to never even mention Levi.

The news that you’d have to work with your ex came as a punch in your stomach. Taiki contacted you himself to talk to you about his choice to include Levi in the movie. He has informed you that they all agreed on him at the end of the casting process, but he wanted to make sure it’s okay by you as well. What would have you said? You wouldn’t just start off a project with getting someone out of the movie before filming even started. You had no choice but to suck it up and say that it’s all fine.

Now you are stuck to see him almost every day and spend your free time with him as well since he is always the first one to show up when a little group of the cast is out and about. He has always been such a social butterfly, though now you wish he would just lock himself up in his hotel room and not show up until he is needed on set.

Levi has been trying. He’s been pushing on your nerves, always coming up to chit-chat, like there’s nothing weird or absurd about the situation, but there’s plenty. Seeing that the last time you two saw each other you threw a book at him and he threatened you to sue you if you dare to even say his name ever again. Your breakup was the definition of nasty while the rest of the world just noticed a quiet and uneventful parting, photos disappearing from Instagram and awkward smiles whenever either of you were asked about the other.

While you are all about being civil and professional, what he has been doing feels like he is trying to get under your skin, testing your patience with him, which is starting to run short.

For an outsider he is acting perfectly fine, even human towards you, but you know him all too well, you know all his little tricks and moves because you used to be an expert on the topic of Levi Hudson.

Huffing to yourself you get back to the text and type a quick reply.

“Still on set, I have two more scenes to film. Will text you when I’m back at the hotel xx”

You wish you could call him right away, you wish he was here with you and you wish you didn’t have to go back to set and face Levi once again. You really thought you’d get entirely consumed by work once filming starts and run short on time and energy to even think about Harry, but it hasn’t been the case. He is all you can think about, you always catch yourself wondering what he is doing, how his day has been or if he is thinking about you too. You cling onto your phone the moment they yell Cut! and frantically check if he has texted you. It’s taking a toll on you and you can only hope you’ll last until the movie is wrapped and you can finally join him on tour, just like you planned.

“Hey there,” Maya steps out of her own trailer when you turn the corner and she catches up with you quickly. “Wha’s up?”

“Just plotting how I can leave early,” you huff, making her laugh. You’ve become the closest to her, you right away bonded when you met at the table read and she caught you grimacing behind Levi’s back when you thought no one was looking. She came up and simply told you she doesn’t like him for literal no reason, he just has a punchable face and an alliance was formed right then and there.

“Oh Honey, let me know when you figured it out,” she chuckles, circling an arm around your shoulders as you both make your way to the set laughing.

Trying your best, you focus fully on the job on hand so you can leave as soon as possible, call Harry and go to bed. Today has been way longer than you would have liked and you just need to get away from set, despite how much you enjoy filming in general. Sometime during the taping Harry texts you that he is free whenever you are and will be waiting for your call and it just makes you even keener on leaving.

When filming is finally finished, you find yourself storm out faster than ever, already ringing up Harry as you are walking back towards your trailer. When he answers the call, his smiley face fills the screen and you feel your heart flutter in your chest.

“Hey! Done for the day?” he asks, seemingly eating something as he talks.

“Luckily,” you breathe out. “What are you eating?”

A blush appears on his pixelated face as he glances down and grabs his bowl, showing it into the camera. He is eating your pesto pasta recipe.

“I had a strong craving for it,” he shyly tells. “It’s not as good as yours though.”

“There’s nothing to do different about it, H,” you chuckle.

“I know, but it’s different when you make it,” he smiles and his words warm your chest. Just as you are about to tease him about being so corny, you hear your name being called out. Turning around you see Levi jogging towards you.

“Here we fucking go,” you mumble, not ending the call with Harry who is a little confused about the situation since he can’t see the intruder in your conversation.

“Are you heading back to the hotel?” he asks, catching up with you.

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on sleeping in my trailer,” you answer with a frown.

“Wanna share a car?”

“Why would I?” you simply ask.

“What’s with the attitude, Y/N?” he scoffs as if he was an angel and deserved all the respect on earth.

“Why do you keep coming up to me?”

“Because I’m trying to be nice!” he snaps, but it’s all for the wrong reason. You don’t buy this shit, nice is the last thing he is trying to be and you know that for sure.

“No, you keep getting on my nerves and you know that! We don’t have to interact outside of set and I want to keep it that way, Levi!”

“Now you are being a bitch, Y/N.”

“Excuse you?” Harry’s voice is coming from your phone’s speaker and you suddenly realize that he is still there, listening to the conversation. You glance down at the screen and see his now angry expression on it.

“Who’s that?” Levi nods towards the phone with a frown, but then realization must hit him. “Is that Harry Styles you’re talking to?”

“None of your fucking business, Levi. And leave me the fuck alone.” Turning around you start marching back to your trailer that’s now so close, but once again, his voice stops you.

“You’re making a fool out of yourself, Y/N!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you snap back at him, one hand already on the door handle of your trailer, the other one holding your phone.

“If you think he wants more than just a good fuck and some publicity out of you, you’re delusional.”

“Fuck you, Levi!” you flip him off before walking into the trailer and shutting the door behind you.

With your back against the door you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, fighting with yourself not to go back out and kick him in the stomach. This is how it has been, he starts acting all nice, pretending like he is the good buy, but when he doesn’t get the reaction he wants, he is quick to show his real, asshole self he keeps hidden.

“Angel? You alright?” Harry’s voice brings you back from your thoughts and once again, you realize that he is still in call, staring from the screen with a worried expression on his handsome face.

Taking another deep breath you bring the phone up so he can finally see your face.

“Sorry you had to hear all of that,” you mumble, feeling way more tired than you were just a few minutes ago.

“Don’t apologize, it’s none of your fault. But I gotta ask, has he been this big of a dick since the start?”

“Kind of,” you sigh, walking further inside. You put the phone to the little vanity, propping it up against the mirror as you start washing your makeup off.

“Have you tried doing something against it? You really shouldn’t let him treat you like that.”

“I’m not trying to be the whiny star who gets someone kicked out. I don’t know what others would think if I told Levi is being a jerk to me, because he is fine with everyone else. Maya is the only one who knows about it, so I’m kind of stuck.”

“Then just punch him,” he suggests making you laugh.

“I wish I could.”

“Want to talk about it? I would love to listen to you talk about how big of a dick your ex is and about your hatred towards him,” he tells you, way too excited about the topic and it makes you chuckle.

“Let’s not talk about him, I get enough of him all day. But not enough of you.”

It just slips out, way too cheesy than you intended it to be, but it makes him smile so you don’t mind it.

“Is this your way of being casual?” he chuckles softly.

“Shut up,” you grin. “Tell me about your day while I get ready to leave.”

You listen to Harry tell you about his day in the smallest details as you clean your face, brush your hair out and change into your own clothes, finally feeling like yourself again. You’re talking even when you’re already in the car, but that’s when it ends.

“Talk tomorrow, Angel?” he murmurs, now lying in his bead, propped up against the headboard without a shirt on.

“Yeah. I’ll be off around five so just call me whenever your show is over.”

“Will do. Take care, alright? And… just hang on a little longer.”

“A little?” you huff. “There are still two more months to go.”

“You can do it. Text me whenever you want to talk, alright?” You just quietly nod, ignoring the ache in your chest. You want nothing else than to crawl into bed with him, curl up against him and never leave from under the covers.

“Good night, Angel,” he smiles sweetly.

“Night, H,” you sigh before ending the call.

An hour later you are already in your hotel room, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, lying in bed as you scroll through Instagram, aimlessly opening posts here and there. The explore page is always a mess, you like so many different things that Instagram sometimes can’t decide what to show you, but that’s just how you like it. Lately it’s been a lot of Harry on there, given the fact that you’ve often found yourself lurking photos of him when you were missing him more than the usual.

When a paparazzi photo comes up of him from yesterday, having lunch with Kendall Jenner you can’t help but feel the jealousy ignite a fire inside you. It’s not like you didn’t know they met up, he told you a week before it and even asked if you are cool with it, to which you said that you are not an official item and you’d never tell him not to see a friend, even if it happens to be an ex as well. After all, you were the last one to throw a stone at him since you are now working with yours, even if it’s a living Hell.

But after such a draining day, seeing him have a good time so far away from you with a woman who is not you, your opinion about the situation seems to be different.

You’ve never been that extremely jealous type and you are also very much aware that you have no right to feel this way, but… you do. Scrolling through the few paparazzi photos that has nothing odd on them, just the two of them sitting at a table on a terrace, enjoying their meal and then leaving in separate cars, you can’t help but tear them apart to the tiniest detail, your brain fixated to find the smallest thing that tell you that they have something more than friendship going on, when you also know damn well sure that there’s no such thing. Harry has talked to you openly about his friendship with Kendall, how they tried to make it work two times but both of them ended up the same way: they realized they are far better as just friends and that’s how they’ve been since then.

But because of the distance, your horrible days with Levi and your agonizing feelings about wanting to be with Harry but also not being able to, you find yourself letting out a silent cry as you close the app, but the pictures still haunt you.

Before you could even think twice, you are kneeling in front of the minibar you haven’t touched since you arrived, but now you’re determined to empty it out, paying extra attention to the alcoholic drinks.

You are well aware that it’s not how you should be coping with the situation on hand, but you don’t know what else to do. You were the one who told Harry not to make things official, there’s nothing you can do against the distance between the two of you and you are stuck with Levi for the rest of filming as well. You have no other choices but to somehow dumb the pain that’s been torturing you silently ever since you found out you got the role.

It’s nerve wrecking, because this role means so much to your career, you know it’s your big chance to be finally taken as seriously as you’ve always dreamed about, but does it worth it? If you lose yourself along the way and everything that’s been making you happy lately, does it still worth just to have an Oscar nomination, which is not even guaranteed, just a speculation.

It’s past one am when you run out of drinks, but because of the small portions, you are just buzzing, not really drunk. But it’s enough to make you lose your rationality and snatch your phone from the bed and open your text threat with Harry.

“I miss you. A lot, like a whole lot.”

You send the text before you could change your mind and for your biggest surprise the status changes to seen just a few moments later before the three little dots start dancing on the bottom.

“I miss you too, Angel. Everything alright?”

Harry knows you too well, you wouldn’t just text after you’ve talked on FaceTime before and you’re usually asleep by this time, since filming starts early in the morning usually.

“Do you really miss me?” you write back with a heavy sigh.

“You can’t even imagine how much…”

“Tell me. How much?”

“I’ve written three songs about you since we parted. Does that tell you how much I miss you?”

“Oh fuck!” you choke out, feeling your chest tightening. You don’t want to be in this hotel room anymore, damn the movie, Levi and the Oscar, you need Harry. Now.

“Can’t wait to hear them all.”

“There’ll be plenty more, Angel. Get ready for a whole album!”

The pictures with Kendall are long forgotten. Now you’re just lying in bed, rereading the texts over and over again until your eyelids get too heavy and you fall asleep, still clinging onto the device.

 ***

 After years of being an independent and strong woman you’ve always aspired to be, you find yourself only focusing on two men to keep your nerves stable enough to stop you from breaking down every other day: Oscar and Harry.

The possibility to win an Oscar is what you think of every time Levi is pulling on your nerves, working harder than the devil to make you burst while acting like a saint in front of everyone. His attempts of ruining your days every imaginable are getting worse as the time passes and when thinking about the Oscar doesn’t help, you reach out to Harry. You’ve felt terribly at the beginning when you kept calling him whenever you felt like screaming after an encounter with Levi, even apologized for it, but he made sure you know he doesn’t mind it, not even the tiniest bit.

“I’m happy I’m the one you come to for comfort. I like that you’re thinking about me,” he told you one night when you called him so late, but he still answered.

Today has been extra hard. Two weeks have passed since your little late night breakdown when you emptied your mini bar out and felt like leaving Atlanta as soon as possible. Luckily, the morning came with an ease, though the pain was still there, you just managed to bottle it up enough to make you keep going.

You’ve been on set since 4 in the morning, having shot some scenes during sunrise and you’ve been going since then. Now it’s four pm, you are desperate for a good sleep already, but you still have some hours to go before you can head back to the hotel.

It seems like Levi has made it his mission to make you cry today. His latest favorite thing has been throwing shade about fellow actors who end up being the talk of gossip sites because they’ve dared to go on a public date with another celebrity. So, just to be clear, he is shaming you for being all over the tabloids, people are still speculating about you and Harry and Levi doesn’t hesitate to call you out about that in a sugarcoated way.

All he has been saying all day is “I guess I’m just more careful about my privacy!” or “Everyone is different, but I like to be noticed for my professional success!” but your favorite was “I get it that women need more effort to stay relevant.”

You were shocked how no one else realized how sexist he was, but deep down you weren’t that surprised. Levi successfully brainwashed everyone to make them believe he didn’t think it seriously, when you know for a fact that even if it was just to piss you off, he really meant it. You were once one of those who couldn’t really see how wrong his beliefs are and now you can’t believe you used to ignore all these sexist comments, but now they make your palms itch.

“You know, you once were just like that. I still remember us being on the covers,” you snapped back at him before everyone left for lunch and it was just the two of you, but he just snorted, brushing it off.

“Hated it. Always felt like just a toy they like to throw around.”

You needed all your self-control not to laugh right into his face and then jump at his throat. Instead, you just watch him walk away and you are quick to fetch your phone from your bag to text Harry, but then you realize that he hasn’t texted you back in the past ten hours. Your last four messages are sitting not just unanswered but unread as well so you talk yourself down from sending another one. It’s odd, because he always tells you when he is about to be busy, but he didn’t this time and you wonder if you’ve said or did something that upset him with you enough to stop talking to you. But then you tell yourself that something must have just come up.

“Hey girl!” Maya calls out for you, already dressed in her own clothes since she is done for the day. “I’m heading out to lunch with Timmy, want to join? Please don’t say you’ll just order in and stay in your trailer!”

“Only if Levi is not coming,” you grumble making her chuckle.

“Don’t worry, it’s just gonna be cool people.”

You both take your car to the little diner close to set, you’ve been going there quite often, they have the best pancakes and that’s exactly what you need right now. Timmy is already there sitting at a booth, waving at you happily. Aside from Maya, he is the other person you’ve been quite enjoying spending time with on set, he is a genuine guy and helped you a lot professionally which was a huge boost along this rocky way.

All through lunch you notice that he’s been checking his phone a lot, but you don’t think much of it, he is a busy guy, that you’ve learned already. It’s nice to have some time away from set and you’re thankful that Maya and Timmy are trying their best to make you forget about Levi and that eventually you have to head back.

The three of you return to set about an hour later. When the both of them stick to your side and they keep asking if you are going back to your trailer, you start to suspect something.

“You guys alright?” you ask with a chuckle. “Where else would I go? I still have thirty minutes from my break.”

“Just making sure,” Timmy shrugs. “We’ll walk you there!”

“Yeah! Let us walk to your trailer!” Maya nods in agreement and you give them a glare.

“You guys are weird,” you mumble under your breath.

As the three of you reach your trailer you notice how excited they are acting and you are confused about what’s really happening, but it’s just until you finally throw the door of your trailer open and gasp at the person waiting inside.

“Hello, Angel,” Harry smirks at you, leaning against the wall as you completely freeze.

“Angel! Oh my God!” you hear Maya squeak behind you, but you can’t pay much attention to her or Timmy, because you are busy throwing yourself into Harry’s arm, who envelopes you into his embrace, lifting you up from the ground.

“What are you doing here?” you breathe out, face buried in the crook of his neck.

“Should I not be here?” he jokes chuckling, his hands running up and down your back.

“Well, you are not supposed to, but I’m glad you are!” you chuckle and pulling back you kiss his lips, not able to hold yourself back.

“Thank your costars,” he mumbles nodding towards the door where Maya and Timmy are standing, grinning widely and proud of themselves.

“You guys did this,” you breathe out.

“Well, it was Maya’s idea, and then I was the one to message Harry,” Timmy admits, hiding his hands in his pockets. “Wanted to surprise you.”

“You surely succeeded,” you chuckle and turning back to Harry you hug him again, holding him tight as if he could vanish any moment.

“Alright, we’ll leave you two alone,” Maya chuckles before shutting the door and giving you some privacy.

“So how long are you staying?” you ask, arms circled around his neck.

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time. I need to fly out late tomorrow.”

“You came here for less than 48 hours?” you gasp in disbelief. He has been on the road for weeks now, all the traveling has been hard on him, that you know, yet he still went into the trouble of flying here for such a short time just to be with you.

“If Timothée didn’t reach out I would have still tried to mess around with my schedule to come here. I know how hard it has been for you here, I wanted to help you.”

“Stop or you’ll make me cry,” you chuckle, leaning in for another kiss.

You spend the rest of your break cuddled up on your tiny sofa in your trailer, talking but mostly kissing, because you’ve been missing Harry’s kisses the most probably. When it’s time to head back to set, you need everything in you not to lock the door and just never leave, but your work is calling.

Walking towards set you find yourself lacing your fingers together with Harry’s, to which he smirks at you in satisfaction. You couldn’t give less shit about that people will think the rumors are true, let them! All you want is to be as close to Harry as possible.

As everyone is slowly gathering back, you lounge around the buffet tables with Harry and Timothée, just genuinely having a good time, right until Levi walks in and he freezes upon seeing you with Harry.

At first you are convinced he’s going to come up to you, but luckily, he chooses to keep his distance this time, saving you some stress about what would go down if the two of them were to talk. Harry has definitely noticed his presence as well, but he doesn’t say a word, just holds your hand tight, kissing your knuckles.

Harry sticks around the whole afternoon, watching you film scene after scene and the excitement in his eyes is priceless. He takes every opportunity to praise your work and tell you how amazing you are doing and it means the world to you since it’s the first time Harry is seeing you working.

Through the afternoon, you can feel Levi’s burning glare on you, but you try your best to ignore it. You can tell he doesn’t like having Harry around but you haven’t figured out if it’s because he is jealous of you and him or because now Harry has all the attention he usually has. Either way, he is a petty fucker and you are enjoying pissing him off for once.

When filming finally finishes at six you are one of the first ones to head out, eager to finally be alone with Harry in your hotel room and not be disturbed for the night.

“I would say to pick up something to eat on our way, but maybe we should just order room service, how does that sound?” he asks as the two of you are walking back to your trailer.

“Room service is gonna be perfect,” you smile up at him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Y/N!”

The voice calling out your name makes you growl in annoyance. The situation is all too familiar, Levi stopping you on your way back to your trailer with the pure intention of ruin your mood.

Oh for fuck’s sake,” you mumble under your breath before turning around. “What?” you snap back at him, clearly annoyed that he is here again.

“Hey, just… thought I would introduce myself to your friend over here,” he smiles as if it was the most natural thing, but you and Harry stand there, completely confused about how he can act so casual about him meeting Harry.

“I’m sorry, you what?” you question.

“Just wanted to meet Harry,” he tells again. “I’m Levi, nice to meet you,” he nods smiling, holding out his hand and you can’t hold your laughter back. Luckily, Harry is quick to react the best possible way.

“Are you really just gonna pretend like I didn’t hear you call Y/N a bitch the other day?” he asks, voice stern and surprisingly calm, however his hold on your hand is a little tighter now.

Seemingly, Levi is taken aback and you can tell he was convinced Harry wouldn’t bring it up straight to his face, but he did. He definitely just did and you are so happy about that.

“I’m, uhh—I don’t think you have any business in that, Harry,” he chuckles nervously, still trying to somehow dominate in the situation, but he is failing miserably.

“Oh, but I think I do. If you think you can just go around and call women bitches, you are in the wrong and if you ever have just one bad word for Y/N again, I’ll definitely won’t be this calm.”

The cherry on the top is the warm smile on Harry’s lips and your mouth hangs open at how bad he just burnt Levi. If you were alone now, you’d definitely jump his bones right away.

Watching Levi you see the exact moment when he drops the act and before he even opens his nasty mouth, you already know you’ll get another taste of his real self.

“What, you fuck her once and think she is the Queen of England who has to be treated with special care?” he scoffs and your stomach drops. Here he goes with the insults, buckle up!

“Excuse you?” Harry snaps back, clearly losing his patience with him.

“She is not that big of a deal, Styles. Might be a good fuck, but she is a fucking bitch in reality and you’ll see that soon.”

“I think it was just you who made her act that way and that’s entirely your fault, m’ friend. Anyone would be that way if they had to deal with you.”

“You know what? You two deserve each other, two low-life, attention seeker celebs, I just don’t get what people like so much about you. Especially about you,” he adds, eyes snapping to you. Your anger is boiling, he is dancing on your very last nerve and you have no idea how long you can last.

Harry then turns to you, a calm expression on his face, but his eyes tell you otherwise as he simply takes his rings off and places them into your palm, confusing you about what he is really doing.

“I’m sorry in advance, Angel,” he mumbles before taking a step towards Levi and with a simple but graceful move, he punches your scumbag ex.

You gasp as you hear Levi’s groan, his hands flying to his face while Harry shakes his fist off with a heavy sigh.

“Oh fuck, this feels better with a glove on,” Harry breathes out, taking a step back.

“You fucker!” Levi spats as he straightens up. He moves his hand from his face, checking it to see if he is bleeding, but it’s just some redness on his cheek.

“Don’t freak out, princess. You’ll just have to sit some more in the makeup. But Swear to God if you ever speak about her that way,” Harry warns him pointing at him, “You won’t be able to fix it with some powder.”

And with that, Harry grabs your hand and pulls you into the trailer, leaving a shocked and raged out Levi outside. As soon as it’s just the two of you, Harry changes from the confident, protective man to a frightened little puppy as he looks at you.

“I’m so sorry, but I just couldn’t take it any longer. The way he was talking about you and I—“

He doesn’t get to finish because our lips shut him up with the most heated and passionate kiss you two have ever shared. It’s hard and messy, your fingers thread through his hair as he grabs your waist forcefully, yanking you against her tightly.

“That was literally the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you pant against his lips.

“Yeah? So you’re not mad?”

“I’m only mad because you got to punch him before me,” you chuckle making him laugh as well.

“God, I have no idea how you could put up with him this long,” he breathes out, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m convinced that my nerves are made out of steel,” you joke pecking his lips two more times.

“I don’t even see how you could be in a relationship with him in the first place,” he huffs.

“I was younger and dumber. Don’t worry, learned my lesson,” you laugh, cupping his cheek in the palm of your hand, running your thumb along the soft skin under his eye.

“If I’m being honest, there’s one more thing that’s upsetting me about him.”

“And what is that?”

“Please don’t get mad at me though, okay?” he chuckles softly.

“Just tell me!”

“I’m mad… because he is able to say that he has been in a relationship with you and I’m not. It’s pissing me off, properly,” he admits and your heart skips a beat. “I know you said you don’t want anything official, but I just want to call you mine and—“

You cut him off for the second time now as you kiss him again, grinning against his lips. If he didn’t bring this up now, you would have for sure before he left, because there was no way you would have been able to say goodbye to him again without having all strings tied.

“Just to be sure, was this your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?” you smirk, your hands holding onto the base of his neck.

“Kind of? Yeah,” he chuckles softly.

“Alright, cool. Now let’s go back to my hotel room, boyfriend.”

You watch as his eyes light up and leaning down he kisses you again.

“Just so we are on the same page, was this your way of saying yes?”

“Kind of, yeah,” you nod, using his own words.

“Great. Okay, let’s go, girlfriend.”

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[maulusque]

Clone genetic enhancement ideas

So the clones were genetically enhanced, but i don’t really see any writers (in fanfic or in published stuff) really exploring what that MEANS beyond “clone very stronk”. Here are some ideas that would actually make clones significantly different from just a regular-ass human in peak condition. 

-enhanced senses: eyesight, hearing, etc. I’m talking eyes like a HAWK

-better reflexes

-quicker information processing

-can hear sounds of higher and lower frequency than standard humans

-can see light of a broader spectrum than human standard

-learn quicker, retain information and skills better (potential problem: if you learn something the WRONG way, that way might stick really well)

-photographic memory (really useful for memorizing layouts and maps)

-immunity to various diseases

-can tolerate a wider range of temperatures and environments

-increased stamina and strength baseline. Clones can just run full-tilt for hours and hours and be like “ah a nice stroll”. Over long distances, they can out-pace jedi in the same way that humans can out-pace horses.

-higher tolerance of certain poisons/toxins (clones can straight-up drink ethanol, and get maybe a little tipsy)

-bodies respond quickly to physical stress, and slowly to the absence of it (basically, this means that physical conditioning results in stronger muscles and a stronger cardiovascular system really quickly, and it takes MUCH longer for a clone to lose strength and conditioning due to not exercising than standard humans. Think how much valuable training time is saved if they only have to go on a run like, once a month in order to stay in shape)

-increased ability to function through intense pain and acute injuries. Basically, semi-disabling the pain system so it’s less distracting. Probably not good for the survival of the individual in many situations, but an advantage on the battlefield. 

-heal faster and better, with fewer long-term complications. Clones can dislocate their shoulders and NOT have the joint be permanently fucked up, because the Kaminoans re-designed the whole damn thing to suck WAY less.

-actually, unique internal anatomy. There’s probably a lot about the human body besides the shoulder joint that is actually just really stupid, and something no intelligent designer would actually build. So the Kaminoans can fix a lot of that stuff. Better knees, maybe. Stronger ribs. Maybe Cody punches droids not just because he’s a mad bastard, but also because his metatarsals are literally as strong as steel. 

-Hearing loss/hearing damage? No problem, your ear can regrow those little hair-thingies that help you hear. 

-Of course, it takes energy to maintain muscle mass, which is why human bodies lose it if we’re not using it. Clones need significantly more calories than standard humans. However, their digestive systems are enhanced to extract calories and nutrients from food much more efficiently, so food goes much farther. Potential weird side effect: maybe clones only have to poop like, once a week?

-You could probably extend that into increased ability to tolerate long periods without food/on low rations, despite the increased need for calories. 

-wouldn’t it be NEAT if the kaminoans somehow designed self-repairing DNA. This would mean that others couldn’t take a DNA sample from a clone and modify it to create their own clones (basically, it protects their product. It’s like DRM for clones). This ALSO means that clones couldn’t get cancer, and that they’d be immune to radiation poisoning. So a clone could just walk up to a sphere of uranium at critical mass and pick it up. Maybe with oven mitts on if it’s hot. (this would also make it harder for a rapid-aging cure to be developed, but uhhhh fanfic writers find a way)

- “bred for obedience” I think most of this would have to be accomplished through tightly-controlled messaging and cultural norms as the clones grow up- basically, enshrining obedience as a desirable and almost sacred trait, to be prized higher than anything else, including the lives of your brothers. In the same way that we hear stories of people sacrificing their lives to protect their loved ones, the clones would grow up hearing stories of soldiers sacrificing their brothers’ lives to obey an order from a superior. 

-SOME of the “obedience” thing could be engineered, though. Humans are already super social, but it would probably make sense for the clones to have an even greater need for social bonds. This would make for greater teamwork and coordination, and better unit cohesion, since the clones would be more inclined to prioritize friendship/agreeing with someone over winning an argument. It would also make it so they’d bond with their natural-born generals more easily, so they would obey them not just because they’re supposed to, but because they’d be much quicker to see them as a friend, and someone who’s trust they want to earn, someone they want to incorporate into their group and make happy.

-consequently, clones who find themselves alone do NOT do well. Isolation has a much more profoundly negative impact on clones than on regular humans.

-Originally, clones designed to operate alone or in small teams would not have the social enhancement- ARC troopers, spec-ops teams, etc. There wouldn’t be much of a noticeable difference in everyday interactions, but they’d also be vaguely weirded out by what they interpret as aggressive friendliness from their brothers, and their brothers would think they’re a bit shy and standoffish. 

-actually this social modification would make it MUCH harder for clones to kill people. REGULAR HUMANS are already super bad at killing people- i remember reading this article about how as soon as soldiers have to point their weapons at actual people, their aim gets mysteriously much shittier. Even when compared to situations that are exactly the same, except they’re not shooting at other humans. So reconcile this how you will, idk.

-I imagine a lot of these enhancements would be accomplished not through DNA, but through microorganisms. Retroviruses could explain the DNA resistant to modification, and the increased healing speed, and possibly some disease resistance (do i know anything about retroviruses other than a vague concept of what they are? no i do not. will that stop me? also no.) Their metabolism can be partially explained through specially engineered gut microbes.

-not sure how they’d go about making clones “resistant to any stress”, because you can’t exactly turn off the trauma response in the brain without breaking a bunch of other things. They could probably do a bit of fiddling to make clones more resistant to chemical imbalances, and therefore more depression-resistant. I think most of the “stress-resistance” would have to come through training. Either they train the clones to basically suppress everything, which might work alright in the short term. OR they actually have systems in place that help prevent the development of things like PTSD and help treat trauma. Meaning the clones are literally trained in self-care, positive self-talk, talking about their pain with their brothers, and having community rituals around things like death and grief. I don’t think that’s super likely because one thing that’s integral to those concepts is the concept of “i am a person and i have worth, and if i feel angry about something bad happening, that is ok and valid” and considering that a whole lot of bad things happen to the clones all the time and their childhood is a whole boatload of bad all happening at once, i don’t think the kaminoans would want the clones realizing “hey wait a minute i’m a person and i don’t deserve to be treated this way and it’s ok for me to be mad at you”. 

- the clones were supposedly engineered to be “less aggressive” but i think there was literally nothing more to that than a cover story for the control chip. The clones wouldn’t be raised with a lot of the aggressive western concept of masculinity, where anger is the default reaction to like, everything, and your personal pride is extremely important and also fragile (no offense lmao). So you wouldn’t have clones posturing and getting angry over perceived slights and fighting each other all the time, like everyone in-universe apparently expects to be the case. Anyway, why would you want your soldiers to be less aggressive? they’re literally supposed to fight and kill the enemy. You want them fully capable of getting angry, anger is the human response to fear and danger that lets us DO something about it. 

-obviously the biggest component in how they behave would be how they are raised, but that’s an entirely different post

-Specializations! I imagine that initially, the Kaminoans had different clones with different traits engineered specifically to fill certain roles. However, as the war went on, they struggled to keep up with demand and had to start shoving clones into whatever roles were needed (hence Fives and Echo becoming ARCs, despite not being engineered as ARC troopers). 

-Command clones would have better abilities in the executive function parts of the brain that deal with extrapolation, planning ahead, spatial reasoning, etc. They’d also have increased visual pattern recognition (like a pigeon)

-search-and-rescue troops would also have the pigeon pattern recognition abilities. The coast guard literally strapped pigeons to helicopters who would tap a button when they saw orange in the water, because they were better at spotting it than humans. Pigeons can detect cancer in microscope images of cells, because they’re that good at pattern recognition

-Pilots would have hella reflexes, excellent spatial awareness and spatial reasoning skills, much greater ability to process visual information, stronger hearts and blood vessels (to resist greater Gs of force), and they’d also be much shorter, to better fit into a cockpit. Which reminds me of Axe, that poor bastard from Ahsoka’s squadron over Ryloth who was almost eight feet tall. rip poor Axe, how did you even become a pilot, you long bastard.

-medics who can smell certain diseases. If you want to get a little bit out there, make the medics able to purr so they can sooth stressed-out patients. 

-infantry would have even greater endurance than everyone else, as well as greater tolerance for, and ability to, remain constantly on alert.

-ability to fall asleep at will? that would be super dope.

-maybe more efficient sleep, so to an adult clone, 4 hours of sleep is genuinely sufficient.

-concept: clones can sort of turn down their bodily functions- slow their digestion, heart, lungs, the whole nine yards- to last longer in adverse conditions. Sort of a half-hibernation (or quarter hibernation- they’d still be able to talk and think, but they’d feel very lethargic). They wouldn’t be able to function very well, but it would be great for things like enduring intense cold, periods without food, low-oxygen environments, and it would be especially useful if you were wounded and waiting for help, since you could slow your circulation, meaning it would take you a lot longer to bleed out. This state could be triggered by a combination of physical actions such as sitting or lying still, breathing slowly and deeply, and focusing on slowing the heart down (humans can actually slow down their hearts consciously if you practice at it, this is basically that, but turned up to like 1100).

-one thing that never made sense to me was the whole “we’re running out of jango fett’s DNA, all the new clones won’t be as good, and we have to stop ventress from stealing the original DNA” because like, can’t they just, get the EXACT SAME DNA from the clones?? you know, the exact genetic copies? With all the enhancements already done? But now my idea is that the kaminoans have engineered the clones so their DNA straight up can’t be copied. The clone’s own body can obviously replicate it, but if you take a sample and try to extract the DNA, it just self-destructs or something. This is to protect their intellectual property, but also means that they literally have to use a couple of Jango Fett’s actual human cells for every single clone they make (and the fact that they then have to do all the above enhancements to every single embryo helps explain why there’s so many small mutations, such as hair color and height). So they kinda shot themselves in the foot with that one. 

-of course since things like ADHD and autism have a strong genetic component, the kaminoans could theoretically engineer those out of the clones, but actually FUCK THAT so for whatever reason, that’s just not something they are able to do, and neurodivergent clones are absolutely a thing

[whythinktoomuch]

attempt #37

This was the 52nd formula that Lena had come up with, the 45th solution that she had to wait several hours to synthesize, but only the 37th time she was injecting her shoulder with the resulting concoction. 

It was bright green this time, which only made it seem all the more promising.

There’s a rush and some mild nausea that Lena had come to expect with the experiments, but everything else felt the same. For now. Setting the syringe aside, Lena called out, “Hope, think of a number between one and a million.” 

Then, for the 37th time, Lena tried. She cleared her own mind, practiced the meditative mantras, stared intently into Eve’s eyes, bright blue yet blank with Hope’s quiet disinterest, and... nothing. Not a single digit came to mind. 

No matter how hard Lena tried, the only thoughts in her head were her own. 

With an exasperated sigh, Lena rolled her sleeve back down and directed Hope to log their latest attempt as yet another failure before storming off to start her day. 

// 

Lena emerged from the laboratory with wrinkled clothes and dark circles sunken around her eyes, which was probably why the first thing she heard as she stepped out of the elevator was her personal assistant’s hushed commentary of, Oh sweet Jesus, she looks tired. 

“Oh, I’m well aware, Hector,” Lena said, lofty and without much malice. “Nothing a little coffee can’t fix though.” 

Hector stared at her blankly. “I’m sorry, Miss Luthor?” 

“Never mind,” Lena said, rolling her eyes. She took the outstretched coffee in question as she walked by the assistant’s desk. “Just hold all my calls until the afternoon, please.” 

This time, when Hector grumbled under his breath about wow, she must be grumpy too, Lena ignored it. There were better things for the CEO to tackle, after all; as for example, some fitful sleep on her couch, perhaps? 

Hours later, Lena was relatively well-rested, so she pored over her notes again, trying to pinpoint the exact variable she must have overlooked in her carelessness. Because by all accounts, the formula should have worked—Lena had been certain of it. But then again, she’d admittedly thought that of almost every attempt thus far. 

When Hector walked into her office at some point in the late afternoon with a handful of contracts to be signed, Lena felt no closer to the solution and a slight headache coming on.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” 

“Another coffee would be great,” Lena said, as she sifted through the documents. 

“Oh my God, if she takes in any more caffeine, her heart’s going to literally explode...” Hector muttered to himself. “Well, maybe she won’t notice if I get her decaf instead...?” 

Lena dropped the papers onto her desk with a scoff. “You know I can hear you, right?” 

Hector appeared startled, which seemed rather appropriate until he slowly said, “So... was that a yes on the espresso?” 

“What?” 

Hector maintained his slow cadence, carefully enunciating every syllable as if he were repeating himself, “Did you want to stick with your usual order... or maybe go with an espresso... because it’s a little stronger?” 

But in a normal cadence, also in Hector’s voice and somehow clear as a bell in Lena’s head came, “If this woman doesn’t get another nap in pronto, she is going to drop dead, and everyone’s going to think I poisoned her coffee, because she’s always in—” 

Absolutely stunned, Lena continued to stare up at Hector in silence, eyes narrowing as the assistant’s slightly panicked voice droned on and on in her head. Until a louder remark broke through the reverie. 

“Whoa, did she just fall asleep with her eyes open?” 

Lena blinked quite obviously, and her mild shock was accompanied with a loud and clear, yet unspoken Oh, thank God! from Hector. 

But the Hector standing before her hadn’t moved his lips once, only watching the bewilderment play out on Lena’s face with some polite concern. 

“The usual’s fine,” Lena interjected before her assistant could press again. “Or the espresso, or whatever. I don’t care, as long as it’s still hot and caffeinated.” 

“You got it,” Hector said. 

“Definitely getting her decaf,” Hector thought as he turned to leave, but Lena hardly minded. She was too busy restructuring the rest of her day around this most exciting realization. 

After some quick bit of arithmetic in her head, Lena set a timer on her watch for five hours, which was presumably the amount of time it would take for her body to break down the serum and render it useless. Then she logged on to her private interface and happily directed Hope to re-record attempt #37 as a success. 

//

The ability to read minds was, quite simply, quite the advantage. 

Though it wasn’t so much “mind-reading,” as mind-receiving. The serum seemed to have granted Lena access to the loud and active thought processes of everyone around her—their inner monologue, if you will, everything put into words but left unsaid. 

Lena had been hoping for more, to be able to break into other people’s minds so as to hack secrets, determine why supposed close friends would ever betray her, and the like. Maybe that would come with time and practice. 

But as it turned out, there was rather plenty to be gleaned from the forefront of someone’s mind, as people often thought about the things they weren’t supposed to say before choosing more palatable means of expression. Which made the rest of Lena’s workday somewhat informative, if not a little fun. 

For one thing, Lena found out that a lot more of her employees enjoyed working for her than she had thought. All of them respected her, several feared her, and quite a fair few entertained invasive thoughts about her décolletage before swiftly directing their attention elsewhere. 

She also found out there was one board member in particular who liked to fudge the numbers during meetings, and that his face took on a very unappealing shade of off-white when Lena could inexplicably confront him with the actual results of his findings. 

But most importantly of all, what Lena found out was that... she actually enjoyed this heretofore inaccessible sense of control this ability afforded her. She had taken on the experiments for a very specific purpose, but now, it was difficult to even imagine going back to how things were, even after the fact.  

// 

Lena walked into the DEO, and for the first time, the outpouring of distrust attached to the Luthor name was all but imagined. The disparaging thoughts followed her, even as the people who had them smiled or averted their eyes as she passed. 

Nothing she wasn’t used to though. 

Alex’s voice slid into Lena’s head in a whisper—... the hell?—one whole minute before she actually greeted her, “Lena, hey... Well, can’t say that I was expecting you.” 

“Yes, that’s what it sounds like,” Lena mused, and Alex gave her a slight frown. 

“So, did you need something?” 

“Where’s Kara? I want to talk to her.” 

Alex’s carefully composed face betrayed no emotion, but her thoughts sighed heavily, “Of course...” before ebbing away into something entirely indistinct and indecipherable.

Lena blinked. She hadn’t encountered anyone whose thoughts weren’t immediately accessible to her before. But here Alex was, giving directions to Kara’s current whereabouts, all the while muttering some underlying commentary in tones so hushed that Lena couldn’t quite make out any of it. 

“... Is there something on my face?” Alex swiped her sleeve across her forehead. “What are you looking at?” 

“What? No, nothing,” Lena said brusquely. “Thank you for telling me where Kara is. Bye.” She turned on her heel, headed for the hallway that would eventually lead to the training room. 

“Well, that was weird...” Alex’s voice drifted after her, a literal afterthought. “But I mean, I guess she has a nice ass, so—”

Lena shot a dirty look over her shoulder, but Alex was already back on her computer, mind rattling off coordinates and running through tactical drills like a well-oiled machine. 

// 

Kara was wearing short shorts and a sports bra, panting, and absolutely drenched in sweat when Lena stepped foot into the training room. She looked over at Lena, her skin glistening against the dimmed green of the kryptonite-lined walls, and smiled wide. 

“Oh, hey! What are you doing here?” Kara asked, giving the punching bag one last jab before tugging her gloves off. "Did something happen or...? I mean, not that I’m not happy to see you, of course.” She flashed Lena another bright grin before pressing a towel to her face and neck and chest. 

It was enough to stop Lena in her tracks, and almost enough to put a damper on her plans. Almost. 

“I need to talk to you,” Lena said evenly, eyes glued firmly to Kara’s forehead. 

“Yeah, sure! Jeez... I’d give you a hug, but I’m like sweating in places I didn’t even know existed. Alex says that this is the only way to learn proper form and all, but wow. I can’t believe there are humans who actually do this for fun—” 

“Kara,” Lena cut in, lips pursing in exasperation. “I’m serious. We need to talk right now.” 

Kara blinked, then slowly nodded. “Okay, yeah, let’s talk... You wanna sit down?” 

“I prefer to be standing.” 

“Okay.” Kara remained standing as well, towel now crumpled in her hands. “So, what’s going on?” 

Lena took a deep breath, quickly running through the meditative techniques meant to keep her mind clear and open, then asked, “Why did it take you so long to tell me that you’re Supergirl?” 

Kara’s shoulders slumped. “Lena, I...” 

“No, why did it take three years? Why didn’t you trust me?” Lena continued, her pace steady and firm just like she had practiced. “I trusted you. I trusted you with every part of me, which is extremely difficult for me to do, and you just... didn’t care, I guess.” 

“Of course, I care. Lena... I never meant to hurt you,” Kara said insistently. Her voice was loud, emphatic, and at the moment, the only thing Lena could hear.  

“Don’t!” Lena snapped when Kara started to approach her. “Don’t come any closer. And stop talking! Just listen.” 

Kara exhaled sharply through her nose and raised her hands in tentative surrender in absolute, utter silence. Lena even paused for a beat or two, just to see if any of Kara’s thoughts would breach the surface, but none did. 

“Why couldn’t you just trust me, Kara?” Lena asked, and regrettably her voice trembled on the last syllable. “Why did I have to hear it from Lex?” 

Kara’s eyes widened. “Lex? Lex told you before I did?” 

“Shut up. Do not talk,” Lena hissed out, waiting for Kara to snap her jaw shut before continuing with a bitter laugh, “Do you, do you even trust me now...?” Kara stared, gaze hardening. “And how do you expect me to trust anything you have to say for yourself now?” 

Lena’s questions—all of the above and beyond—were met with silence, strained only by the sound of Kara’s heavy breath and Lena’s own thoughts. 

Scoffing, Lena threw up her hands. “Do you even care that you hurt me?” 

“... Can I talk now?” Kara demanded, seething like she had any right to it. But when Lena shook her head furiously, she held her tongue and apparently everything else as well, because Lena couldn’t hear a single damn thing. 

When the alarm on her watch went off, Lena left, slamming the door on her way out. She contacted Hope through their private channel and had her re-log attempt #37 as just another failure. 

Back to the fucking drawing board. 

(next part here)

[abundanceofnots]

a little (just under 2k) playground scene with Lip and Ian as dads, as per @pink--and--white's request. i apologize to all actual parents in advance.

“How the fuck did we get here?” Lip asks through a huff of incredulous laughter.

Ian shades his eyes from the sun, turning to his older brother with a look of mock concern. “Your memory that bad already, old man? We drove here.”

It earns him a stinging smack on his thigh.

“Asshole,” Lip retorts back. “You know what I mean.”

Ian’s eyes flit back to the scene before them. “Yeah, I do,” he confirms a beat later, his voice more earnest this time.

This, by far, isn’t a new feeling. Lip’s had the exact same thought pass through his mind countless times in recent years, always in a momentary flash of warmth that filled up his whole chest. It happens all the more often now over the most mundane shit, though.

The first time was, probably, when Freddie was born. Then Ian got married, and Al came along, and Liam got to a good school—and after that followed every other quiet (not literally) evening when the whole family gathered up in the kitchen.

In those instants, Lip would stall himself for just a second, getting lost in the overwhelming sounds and visuals, and think, what the fuck.

He’s getting soft. That’s it, most likely. He’s getting soft and sentimental, going on with his extremely unexceptional life, wondering how in the hell did a piece of shit like himself get so lucky, and slowly becomes someone he’d gladly punch in the face not too long ago.

It hits him hard again, this strange sense of pride and wonder, as he sits next to his baby brother on a bench overlooking a kids’ playground.

This one’s the real deal. Everything here is child-proof and clean, with no syringe or dogshit in sight. Frank or some random homeless guy aren’t lying in a drunken coma by the swing sets. There’s not even one bullet hole in the slide. And maybe it’s not so hard to admit that this is actually pretty nice. That this is them now.

Still, the whole thing is, without a doubt, totally ridiculous. Here they are, Lip and Ian—the college dropout and the ex-con, the true sons of the South Side—sneakily munching on their kids’ packed afternoon snacks.

“Dumb luck, I guess,” Ian answers Lip’s question after some musing and takes a sip from Toe’s pink-colored juice box.

Lip hmms before he bites into a baby carrot. “For us, or them?”

“For us. Definitely.”

They’re just two regular dads who carry around lunchboxes and always have a wet wipe or a pack of tissues at hand, ready to blow noses and wipe off residue chocolate from chins and hands. There aren’t enough words in the English language that would describe how incredibly ridiculous this is, because once upon a time, not too long ago, still, Ian wore a jumpsuit with Dav on the nametag and believed this was it for him, and Lip thought the only way to get through life was by drinking himself through the ordeal.

How the fuck did they get here?

“Freddie! Hey, Freddie!” Lip calls out to his oldest, who hangs upside down from the monkey bars, effectively ignoring him. “Fred!” he tries again with an annoyed sigh, and the boy finally remembers how his ears work. “Can you help your cousin on the slide?”

“Okay!”

With a swift motion, Freddie pulls himself up again to grab hold of a bar, unhooking his knees in the process, and jumps down into the sand with practiced ease. He then immediately gets into a run, coming behind the red-headed girl in black overalls who’s been trying to climb the gentle ramp on her own.

“What was that about?” Ian inquires amusedly.

“Early puberty, I think. He doesn’t want us to call him Freddie anymore. It’s Fred. No Fredster, no Fredtastic, definitely no Fredosaurus. Just Fred. Apparently, I went to bed, and my son turned into a middle-aged man overnight.”

“Oof. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. The next thing I know, he’s gonna get a neck tattoo and his first STI. Al, buddy!” His younger son Alvin, at least, seems to have no trouble with hearing. “You need help? Want me to push you?”

“No, I’m good!” the blond kid shouts back from the swing, and to prove his point, he pushes himself harder off the ground to gain momentum.

Lip scratches his forehead. “They don’t need me anymore,” he comments darkly. “I am officially a bother.”

“You’ve always been a bother,” Ian notes before he stuffs his mouth full of grapes. “Come on, Lip. Freddie’s eight. He’s not exactly packing his bags to leave home. He’s still very much a daddy’s boy.”

“I don’t know, man. When I remember what I was already doing when I was his age….”

“Yeah, but that’s different. They’re not like us. They don’t need to be, and that’s a good thing.”

Ian’s right, but the concept of normal as something desirable, something he doesn’t necessarily need to rebel against, is something Lip may never fully come to grasps with. And neither does Ian, even if he says otherwise.

“We might be getting a dog,” Lip says after a while, pausing before he sinks his teeth into a cheese stick.

“No way!” Ian smirks at him. “Look at you, perfect American family and shit.”

Lip snorts at that. He and Tami are pretty damn far from perfect. “You not thinking about getting a pet? A friendly rottweiler for Mickey, perhaps?”

“No. First, I gotta talk him into having another kid.”

That takes Lip by surprise. He knows Ian absolutely adores his little girl, his mini ginger twin that everyone got to call Toe, short for Tomato, but he also knows the whole story behind how she came to be.

“Oh, yeah? You’d like another?”

“Yeah,” Ian admits, and as his eyes drop to his lap where his fingers fiddle with a paper straw, Lip realizes he sounds ashamed about it.

“Not as easy as poking holes in condoms with you guys, huh?” he jokes to release the sudden tension.

“Hah. No.”

“You told Mickey yet?”

Meeting his brother’s eyes again, Ian gives a noncommittal shrug. “I hinted.”

From experience, Lip knows that hinting in Ian’s case almost exclusively means Mickey is fully aware of his intentions and just chooses to ignore them before Ian confronts him head-on.

“Hopefully, you’ll have another girl,” he tells Ian after a quiet moment filled with children’s high-pitched screams and the steady screeching of a swing set. “It’s a lot more physical with boys. These two are already fighting like we used to.”

“Doesn’t really matter when you’re raising a Milkovich,” Ian remarks before yelling: “Hey, Toe? You wanna have a sip of your juice for me?”

The girl waves at them eagerly as she slides down the bendy chute. Getting to a run right as her feet touch the ground, she comes to a jolty halt in front of them, taking a good, hard look at the juice box as if only now realizing what’s expected of her.

“No, thank you,” Toe then peeps and skips off again.

“Polite,” Lip appraises.

Ian gives a low chuckle. “Fuckin’ weird, huh?”

“With Mickey as her dad? A little.”

They watch the kids play for a few minutes. Ian offers to exchange a cheese stick for three grapes, and Lip negotiates it up to five before agreeing.

“You think he’d be against it? Having another kid?” he asks Ian mid-chew.

“I mean, I wouldn’t blame him, after all the shit with Terry. Maybe with a second kid, he’d think there’d be twice the damage he could do. Dunno,” Ian surmises uncertainly. “I know how hard it was for him to even want a kid, and I get why he was scared. Don’t get me wrong, I’m shitting myself every day when I think of the ways I could fuck this up. But he’s a great dad. You saw him with Toe. She’s obsessed with him. The way she laughs at everything he says makes you think he invented comedy or something.”

Lip’s aware that their conversation turned sort of serious once again, but he can’t help not breaking into a smile. “Sounds like you’re kinda jealous of your husband there, Ian.”

“Oh, I hate his guts,” his brother confirms, only partially kidding. “I’m a fun dad, too, you know.” As if on cue, a figure coming their way catches his attention, and Ian nods to where his daughter’s playing, telling Lip: “Okay, watch this.”

Mickey gestures at Freddie with a finger to his lips, coming around the slide just in time to catch his daughter in his arms with a victorious roar.

“Daddy!” Toe announces the good news to everyone around with a loud squeal.

Ian gives his brother a pointed look.

“Fuck, man,” Lip huffs with mock seriousness. “You tellin’ me she loves her dad? What a nightmare.”

“Yo, lunch ladies.” Mickey suddenly approaches them with Toe at his hip. “How ’bout less chit-chatting and more kid-watching? Think I’d remember if I left my kid with a giant fuckin’ bruise on her forehead this morning.”

“Yeah. She’s had a bit of a scuffle with Alvin earlier,” Ian says, reaching out to soothingly rub Toe’s calf as if said scuffle and the tears it brought weren’t already long forgotten.

“The hell’s he doin’ fightin’ someone half his size?!”

“She started it!” Lip counters weakly.

“Okay.” Mickey’s mouth hangs open for a minute before he finds his figurative footing again. “I guess she had her reasons for that. And you should teach your kids to not fight dirty.”

“I go play now,” Toe informs him then, putting a stop to his rant and his bad mood in one go.

“Yeah! You do that!” Mickey replies as he puts her down, matching her level of enthusiasm. She heads for the extensive pirate-ship-like construction this time, watchful cousin Freddie already on her heels, and Mickey drops heavily next to his husband, letting out a prolonged groan into his hands.

“Tough day?” Ian asks needlessly.

“Igor’s a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Told you he was.”

“And I agree, so drop it, a’ight? Hey, by the way.”

“Hey,” Ian echoes before they exchange a quick kiss.

Mickey notices the juice in his hands then and perks up. “That raspberry?” he checks after he’s already snagged the box for himself, taking loud slurps from it to get every last drop. He finishes off with a belch. “Fuckin’ love raspberry.”

Lip finds that anything he’d say at that moment would only spoil the natural fucking beauty of it, so he just appreciates with a private snicker.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Toe yells from the top of one of the pirate ship’s smaller slides. “Come play!”

Mickey pats at Ian’s thigh. “That’s on you, man. I’m beat.”

Putting his fun-dad face on, Ian heaves himself up without a complaint. “Hey, jellybean! Do you think your dad can fit on the slide, too?”

Toe shakes her head vehemently, giggling as she watches Ian jog toward her. “No, daddy! No! No!”

“What, you don’t think I can?” Ian asks again, halfway through his climb up on the board. “Well, take off your socks now because they might get blown off! I’mma fit!”

“Daddy!” Toe howls with laughter as he bumps his head on one of the low railings.

Beside Lip, Mickey imitates the reaction, both his hand and the phone he’s holding with it to record a video visibly shaking. When he notices Lip staring, his grin falters a little.

“These two jokers,” Mickey complains after he ends the recording. “She always laughs at everything he does like he invented comedy or some shit.”

Lip answers with a knowing smile, his chest feeling full of warmth.

Seriously, how the fuck did they get here?

[wizkiddx]

I would for sure read a continuation of the birth photographer fic if you feel comfortable writing it/have time! Xx

a/n sorry I kinda combined these two together, I hope this is okay!! sorry ive taken so long too!! my requests are still open, just going a bit slowly :)

summary: literally just birth + harry

dad!tom x reader

warnings: childbirth, mentions of fainting, squint for suggestiveness too

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Your doing so good darling, just keep breathin’ like that for me, in-out-in-out”

That had pretty much been the soundtrack to your last 3 hours. And yes it was MORE annoying than it sounds. Of course, that’s also ignoring the insane amount of pain your uterus was putting you through - as it spasmed while the little bug in there was wriggling away. Giving birth was not easy but giving birth with a husband-turned-midwife wittering away in your ear? Un-fucking-bearable. 

“Tom…. I love you but..” Everything had really been starting to ramp up in the last half an hour, you were a panting sweaty mess now. “Please… SHUT THE FUCK UP” Tom would’ve recoiled completely away from the bed because of your tone, if it wasn’t for the absolute death grip you had his right hand in. Instead,  Tom settled for straightening straight up and staring helplessly and dejectedly across the room at his brother - who of course was trying to hold back laughter, knowing it would be very easy for you to switch your target to him. 

Clearly it wasn’t a social call to the hospital, Harry was here under the premise of taking photos when the baby arrives for Tom;  but really to stop his brother from having his own breakdown - as commissioned by you. Lets just say, however scared and mortified Harry was of this ‘event’ he was taking a lot of enjoyment from how his brother was acting currently. 

“It’s okay sir, if you were pushing a watermelon out of hole that normally was the size of a whiteboard marker, I’m sure you’d be a bit tetchy too.” That lady was your favourite midwife and in a lull between the sets of contractions, you actually managed a laugh. Wide-eyed, Tom just nodded jerkily, murmuring some sort of agreement. It was at this point a flash of light reverberated around the whole room, causing you to breathlessly laugh, Harry’s face informing you the picture he just got of Tom was priceless. 

The laughter didn’t last long though, the next contraction had you bearing down on the bed, face contorted in pain as you sucked desperately on the gas and air tube. 

“Okay Y/n I think we might be getting there, let me call the senior midwifes in okay?” The midwife had your legs hiked apart, a blanket attempting to cover your modesty - but at this point she was basically sticking her face in your noon. Modesty was out the window. 

“Already?” Tom was shocked to say the least, from all his reading and research he’d learnt that the average labour time was more like 5 hours. Lets just say, Tom never exceled in school, never much enjoyed reading - which made the hours of highlighting baby books and pregnancy leaflets all the more extraordinary. 

“Babies don’t stick to the script sir.” You could tell she was proud of the pun there, because you know, Tom’s a moviestar. “Professional improvisers, the lot of them.” 

The cream walls of the hospital room very quickly filled with more and more people - Harry staying like a fly on the wall, now nervously biting his nails as he watched an obscene amount of medical people all take their turn oggling his sister-in-law’s bits. This was a weird ass situation. 

Almost immediately it was at the point the midwifes were telling you to push, which after 9 months of holding a baby in (as well as your ill functioning bladder) sounded like an absolute dream. But it was also absolutely terrifying and exciting and horrifying all wrapped in one. Naturally then, after nodding hesitantly at the midwife between your legs, you’d craned your neck across to tom .You might’ve just told him off, for trying to encourage you, but now? You needed his encouragement. 

What met you though, was his face completely drained of colour, mouth hanging slightly open as he hadn’t moved - still staring intently at the midwife. She followed your gaze, only taking half a second to survey the situation before knowingly smiling. 

“Can we get a bit of help for dad please?” Immediately one of the more junior looking midwives was directing (pushing) Tom into the chair next to the floor. Suddenly actually concerned, you looked with wide eyes to the lady between your legs, who you felt bad for not remembering her name. With a comforting squeeze of your ankle she reassured you he’d be right as rain after a few moments of having his head between his knees. Also sensing you needed your support, she arched up, beckoning over to Harry who had an equally bemused look on his face. 

“No - I-um I’m not.” His squeaking protests were interrupted by a large scream on your part, as another contraction tore through your body. Helplessly Harry glanced between Tom, who was still hunched over on a chair with a nurse squatted infront of him; and you, writhing around on the mechanical bed. He didn’t hesitate then, in jumping right to your side, allowing you to start crushing all the bones in his hand too. 

And then it was all happening, a blur of activity and screams. It didnt take long for Tom to pull himself together and then you were flanked on both sides by Holland boys - both giving cheesy encouraging words (which you would’ve again told them to shut the fuck up for, if you’d been able to), Tom also stroking the top of your head. He found it pretty impossible, watching the woman that he loved go through such immense pain - especially when he was technically half the cause. Well… actually more that that, it had been him who had been… well shall we say *needy* those nine months ago. 

“Okay Y/n the heads crowning, I know you’re tired but we need a few more big pushes, can you do that for me?” 

Merely 5 minutes later and the most beautiful sound in the world echoed through the 4 creams walls. You were absolutely spent, eyes closed as you panted, knowing tears were flooding down your face too. Immediately though, familiar hands cupped both sides of your face, a forehead resting on yours. 

“You did it Y/n/n.” His eyes were glassy, watering and red and the way he scoffed a smile in disbelief had you mirroring him exactly.

“We did it.” Your voice was hoarse and scratchy from all the yells of pain but it didnt matter. The midwife calling you by the name ‘mum and dad’ got both of your attention, a title you’d no doubt start getting used to. 

“Meet your beautiful baby girl.” Another choked sob escaped your throat, as  this little roughly wrapped up pink alien looking thing was placed onto your chest. Both you and Tom just gazed at her, completely transfixed at the way she wriggled her head slightly, nuzzling into your chest. Tom gently hovered his palm against her little head, while you pressed down the blanket gently, just so you could see all her features. 

Then a flash echoed around the otherwise silent room, making you all look up to Harry who was gritting his teeth in apology. “Do mum and dad want to smile for the camera?” The question was posed so hesitantly and quietly, really it wasn’t funny either. That didn’t stop you and Tom both pulling out the biggest grins and chuckling away, allowing Harry to capture the perfect moment. Being referred to as mum and dad - it was bloody comical. 

“You gonna tell me her name now?”  You looked from Harry to Tom, nodding in approval for him to spill the beans. 

“Amber. She’s Amber.”

You’d squabbled for months before ending on Amber. It had been a long relentless process, Tom claiming that your baby might just have ended up as ‘as yet untitled’ which you and your hormonal state had stormed out at. It hadn’t taken much to forgive it though, Tom had long since worked out that Ben and Jerrys was the way to your heart. 

The nurses took Amber back to do some tests, properly cleaning both you and her up and after that everything was weirdly calm. Harry had left to give the twothree of you a moment alone and Tom was about to do his turn of skin to skin. 

“This really is it isn’t it?” He murmured, whilst carefully scooping Amber from your arms. 

“Mhmmm… your stuck with two girls who’ll go psycho on you without a moments notice.” He seemed to accept it though, just nodding in response. 

“And I still can’t bloody wait.” His eyes penetrating deep into you, had you blushing like a nervous teenage girl. “ ‘m still so proud of you, you grew this little human.”

“Your not allowed to call her little because you didnt have the ‘little’ thing rip your insides apart.”

“Hey! I’m upset about it too! Was like I had to watch my favourite pub being burnt down.” Of course, trust Tom to make a dirty joke at a time like this.

“Don’t kid yourself, you weren’t watching, too busy fainting.”

“I didn’t actually faint!” This time he protested a bit too loudly, causing Amber to mewl a little and bury her head into the crook of her Dads arm. “I think Ambers just told you to shut it too.”

“You annoy the hell out of…” Your grumbling was interrupted by an impressive, ear-splitting yawn. “ You annoy the hell out of me.”

“But you love me?” He sing-songed, now back to a hushed tone. 

“I hope so, otherwise we’re in a bit of trouble.” He scoffed, but nodded his head, taking the hand that wasn’t cradling Amber to tuck some sweaty, knotted strands of hair behind your ear. 

“I do owe Harry though, he was at least able to stay on his feet.”

“He was a better birthing partner than you too, much much less condescending and annoying.” You sniggered, making Tom pout once again, only wiping the look off his face when you yawned again, rubbing an your eye like a toddler would. 

“If your done insulting me… get some rest love, I got you.” All you did was nod, with a small groan (because below your waist still hurt like a bitch) rolled over so you could fall asleep to sight of the two of them. 

“Got you both, my two beautiful girls.”

hope you enjoyed, would love to hear any thoughts <3

taglist: @hollandfanficlove @hallecarey1

[shokami]

a Symbol of Fatherhood

timeskip! kuroo tetsurou headcanons

synopsis ; years into your relationship, you and kuroo decide to try and have a kid. . . what you didn’t expect was having two. ( because kuroo is equivalent to a child. )

word count ; 1k in total.

genre ; fluff + comfort

warnings ; minor timeskip spoilers

you and kuroo had been together since high school, and never really gave any real thought to life of where you were going… you just went.

so it threw you for a loop when one day kuroo randomly popped the question, asking if you wanted kids.

kids… ah kids. did you want them?

if someone asked you back then, or even asked had you not been with kuroo? you would have said no.

but who could say no to a little tetsurou running around? absolutely not you, that’s for sure.

after you started trying, he SWORE it was taking too long. please calm down kuroo, it is a process.

when you finally told him you were pregnant? THIS DUDE JUST STOOD THERE. i mean he froze, and just kinda stared at you?? the initial shock really got him.

then he started crying and hugged you so tight, and said absolutely nothing. you were terrified that you broke him to be honest.

during the pregnancy, kuroo was set on having a boy… he's more than happy that the two of you had the CUTEST little girl together instead.

you really thought that having a girl would mean that you got to spoil her, and she’d be a mommy’s girl.

false information.

she is in fact a daddy's girl.

kuroo rubs it in your face as politely as he can, and he’ll childishly stick his tongue out at you.

there have been several times where you’ve been at work and you get called from the daycare, “ma’am just to inform you, your husband came to pick your daughter up early again.”

that’s how much it became a reoccurring issue, you’d really have to tell the daycare to sell him out.

everyone always assumed you were married.

everytime you ask why he takes her early he replies with, “it’s like a child prison yn, she doesn’t want to be in there!”

you’d look at your daughter and she’d just viciously nod her head.

plot twist: she didn’t hate it and kuroo just has attachment issues.

eventually bokuto and kenma start stealing her from daycare too, but that's a conversation for another day.

kuroo and her definitely make you breakfast in bed on the weekends.

it always ends up with the three of you cuddling in bed and watching early morning cartoons.

kuroo is the one who has to read her bedtime stories because she complains about how “mommy doesn’t read them in funny voices!”

you can’t complain though because everytime you peak your head into the room, you’re met with their happy smiles and laughter.

multiple times you’ve found kuroo passed out beside her after reading, and you’d have to steal him away.

this kid is brave asf okay, and so talkative. she will talk your ear off, and if anyone ever hurts her feelings? they’re getting stepped on.

she can recite the periodic table at fricken five. smartest little girl ever. looks at kuroo.

kuroo has literally stood in the store with her pouting, just to get you to give in on letting them get a ton of ice cream and candy.

many regrets were made that night, as both kuroo and your daughter were bouncing off the walls during family movie night.

there was no excuse as to why you and kuroo weren’t married yet, but you both liked taking life really slowly and enjoying the little things.

by the time your daughter was five or six though, he proposed to you and you both cried. again. such big saps.

you told him if he waited any longer, you would’ve asked him.

after a rather long week, it was finally over and you could relax… well, sorta. kuroo had a volleyball tournament he had to attend, and told you that you should come. the black jackals were starting off the season with their first game, and you couldn’t deny the opportunity to see your friends from highschool. nor could you deny them seeing mini kuroo in action.

you shook your head, offering a soft giggle at her antics. outstretching your arm, you pointed a few feet ahead of you into the crowd. tetsurou stood to the side of the court, arms crossed over his chest as he towered over one of the reporters asking him questions. when kuroo first joined the national volleyball association, you never expected the way people would flock to him with questions. nearly always about who he knew on the team, or insights he had. there were often times they’d even seek personal information about his life as well.

the moment that you pointed towards tetsurou, your daughter darted towards him. immediately she flung herself from the ground into his arms, which quickly resulted in bursts of laughter as he hoisted his treasure onto his shoulders.

slowly approaching him yourself, the reporter was smiling from ear to ear as he asked, “five years ago, you were probably asked the question ‘in five years where do you see yourself?’ was this your vision?”

“what? with a beautiful daughter like this cutie pie, and a gorgeous wife who loves me?” he paused, wrapping an arm around you; he looked at you adoringly. “it exceeded my expectations of what i envisioned.”

kuroo was once asked what he thought the symbol of fatherhood was. . . now he knew the answer.

purple orchids. they reminded him of his daughter, that you so graciously gave him.

a/n i got really carried away with these please <//3 but these are for @hazel1618 who requested this softness

taglist @ryuomen @oikawaplssteponme @kei7ime

[novamirmirsblog]

So stay with me

Word count: 1957

Request: Yes

Genre: ANGST

Warnings: DEATH. SADNESS. Like there is literally no silver lining.

A/N I've done the foster system based off how it is where I live. I don't know what it's like for other countries so I apologise if it isn't quite the same for where you live :3 ALSO I'm going to put the request elsewhere because in order for the full unhappiness, you must experience it like this 😈

When you first entered the S.H.I.E.L.D training programme, you had been hand picked by Fury himself. You were bouncing from foster home to foster home at the time, causing general trouble by stealing, fighting and lashing out at anyone and everyone. You had no real direction. You knew you were most likely to end up on the streets - sure your social worker would still check in occasionally after you had aged out of the system but there were more and more kids being given up. Realistically, you knew you were on your own. When you reached 13 you knew that no one was going to adopt you. Especially when there were babies and young children available. Deep down, you had figured it out when you were around 9 but you clung to the naive hope that you were wrong.

~~~~~

Fury found you when you were 15 but didn't take you in until you were 17. It was the day after your 17th birthday when he turned up at your foster parent's door. He said he wanted to take you for a military programme and you packed your bag before he had even finished his speech.

You went through years of intense training and passed top of your class for everything. It was surprising considering you had never been first before. What was more shocking was the need for praise. You had always believed that you didn't need it. You had never had it before, so why is it a necessity. You realised how wrong you were when Maria took you to the side and told you that you had done well. The comment replayed in your head for months.

~~~~~

You were 23 when you first joined the Avenger's initiative. 23 when you first met Natasha. The two of you didn't hit it off to begin with, Natasha didn't like how reckless you were and you didn't like how far the stick was shoved up her arse. Truth was, you both liked each other a little more than just friends but neither of you knew how to deal with these emotions. Let's face it, Natasha grew up being told 'love is for children' and you grew up in the system where the cracks were so big elephants fell through them. The team could see it though.

"Just ask her out." Wanda told you while sitting on your bed painting her nails.

"Who?"

"You know exactly who. I can read your mind and your thoughts are very loud."

"No. Your information is wrong." Wanda grabbed your hand, painting the left one first.

"Y/n just ask Natasha out. She'll say yes."

"I hate her. We're enemies."

"Some say you have to love someone to hate them and besides" Wanda paused, gauging your reaction "You wanting to bend her over a table doesn't sound very enemy like."

Heat rose in your cheeks and you prayed nothing gave you away. "Untrue. I want to do that in an enemy way."

"Sureeee..."

From then on, you were extremely careful to keep your thoughts quiet. Especially when you had to watch Natasha train.

~~~~~

It was Natasha who asked you out. At first you thought she was joking and very nearly laughed but then you saw how she was standing, how she said 'will you go out with me' with such nonchalance that it was as if she was asking you to pass the ketchup. No one could be that cool and collected. It was the way she even played slightly with her fingernails that showed you she was nervous. You of course said yes.

That was the beginning of your relationship and you had been going strong for a good five years. The nausea and tiredness however, started three years into your relationship. Natasha used to joke that maybe you were pregnant when it had first started happening, the others laughing at even the thought of you cheating on Natasha. The jokes died down when after a month and a half of running to the bathroom, it finally affected your missions. You were sent right off to Dr Cho and no one would have anything else said on the matter. You had tried to fight them, of course - it really wasn't that bad. All you needed to do. was take some anti-nausea medication and you would be fine.

Leukaemia

You knew that one little word would do so much damage to your strange family if they ever found out. You sat in silence as you formulated a plan, Dr Cho just watching you, letting you process. What was the point in telling your family and causing them pain if the treatment plan Dr Cho had lined out for you worked? There wasn't. That's why you kept it a secret. Why you brushed off any comments about your increased nausea, or your lack of hunger. The only person who knew was Fury.

~~~~~

"Are you cheating on me?" Natasha had cornered you after a particularly tough session of chemotherapy. All you wanted to do was sleep.

"No. Why would you think that?" Words were hard to say when you had to put all your energy into just standing up.

"You go out at all times of the day and night, you're too damn tired to do anything and you never talk to me anymore Y/n... If you wanted to break up you didn't have to cheat."

You knew this day would come eventually. It was a year into your treatments and none of them seemed to be working. Natasha wasn't stupid. It's why you kissed her on the head and pulled her into the tightest hug you could muster.

"I would never do that. I love you Natasha Romanoff. I'll explain but let me get everyone here." You asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to call everyone down to the living room.

Once everyone was settled on the sofas and chairs, you sat on the coffee table, no longer being able to hold yourself up.

"I have leukaemia."

At first, you couldn't bring yourself to look at the others. You didn't want their pity but you knew they wouldn't be able to show anything else. You looked at Natasha first. You knew she wouldn't have a pitying look on her face.

You were right.

Natasha looked furious. How dare someone who didn't even want you in their lives give you a horrible disease. She knew your chances of survival weren't good but there were treatments that could help. She had more than enough money to get whatever treatment necessary.

Tony spoke first. "I'm going to my lab. FRIDAY, contact Dr Cho. I need Y/n's medical details."

Bruce followed quickly behind him. The others gave you sad but hopeful smiles. You couldn't bring yourself to tell them there was little hope.

~~~~~

Natasha had been gone on and off for 6 months. You knew your time was coming to a close but she still hadn't given up. She was always in some country following a lead for some experimental drug to try and cure you.

But there was no cure.

Not for this. Maybe one day there would be a cure, but not in your lifetime. The cure wouldn't be able to save you.

You were almost hesitant to let Natasha come back. It had been a while since she had seen you and now you looked like paper. You were thin and fragile and your skin had lost it's colour and took on a grey tinge. Your cheeks were hollow and your lips were constantly chapped and the only thing you could stomach were tiny meals and energy drinks.

You were dying.

Everyone had come to terms with it. Tony and Bruce never stopped trying to find a cure, it just wasn't for you anymore. Wanda tried her best to keep you as comfortable as she could with her powers and Steve would come and tell you stories of before he was put in the ice to entertain you. Clint would bring his kids until it got too painful for them to see you turn from the scariest, coolest person they knew into a hollow shell.

The only person who hadn't come to terms with it was Natasha.

"Nat she needs you." Steve told her when the team were all eating.

"I know. I really think this time this lead will be the one. Then she can be fixed and-"

"Natasha." Wanda cut her off, her voice dangerously low. She had heard this speech so many times that it was painful to hear it again. "She needs you. She's dying and you need to accept it. You don't have much longer left with her and you're abandoning her when you should be with her 24/7!" Wanda's eyes glowed slightly red as she thought of all the times she had to watch her best friend realise the love of her life wasn't there with her. The cutlery began to shake a little and something fell over in the kitchen.

The crash that you heard woke you up. Maybe it was Natasha. You hobbled out of what was supposed to be your shared room, and made your way to the kitchen. By the time you had reached the kitchen, everyone was fighting. There was food being thrown, knives being grabbed and glasses shattering everywhere. You just stood there as your best friend and your girlfriend attempted to kill each other.

"guys stop." Your throat hurt from hours of throwing up so your voice didn't carry.

"guys really..." You tried again, tears forming in your eyes. You didn't want to spend your last days watching your loved ones fight.

"FRIDAY tell them to stop. please."

"Miss Y/l/n would like you all to stop. Now."

Everyone turned to the doorway where you were standing, horrified that you saw them fighting.

"Y/n, you need to get to bed sweetie." Wanda walked over to you, wrapping her arm around your waist.

"Don't touch her." Natasha stormed over, taking your other side.

"Ladies there's no need to fight. You can share right?" You let out a soft laugh and watched as they both melted. Just because you were dying, it didn't mean you lost your sense of humour.

They both took you back to your shared room, Wanda leaving to give you and Natasha some privacy.

"Please don't go anymore." You laid with your head on Natasha's chest, her hand stroking your hair.

"But I'm so close. I can cure you Y/n."

"Natty please. I can tell I don't have much longer left and I don't know if I'll still be here for when you come back if you leave again."

"But I can't lose you." Natasha whispered, scared that if she spoke any louder, some other power would hear her and take you away from her too soon.

"So stay with me."

~~~~~

It was strange, you thought, lying on your bed; you had always thought you would die doing something spontaneous, or maybe in the field. Not because your cells were abnormal. Natasha had spent every moment with you since she returned 5 months ago. You had planned everything; your funeral, little messages to each of them, where to bury you. Everything was sorted. All that was left now, was to die.

It was an ordinary Wednesday afternoon when you felt the last drops of life drain from you. You knew it was time and so you turned to Natasha who had you wrapped up in her arms, placing a hand on her face, the rest of the Avengers all sitting there quietly.

“When the time is right, we’ll be together again. I’ll always be with you.” You then let your eyes drift shut, never to open again. Not in this world, anyway, but perhaps in the next.

A/N pt 2: NOOO BUT WHY AM I CRYING. THAT'S NOT THE RIGHT WAY AROUND. We've got some Peggy Carter fluff coming up soon tho :)

Also here is the request:

A Natasha x fem!reader. Reader was one of THE best shield agents and a great member of the avengers, but sadly had genetic cancer. After fighting for two years, with nausea, pain, and no improvement, reader knew she was dying. She didn’t want to admit it, especially after all the team has done to help her, especially her girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff. No amount of treatment or amount of money or technology Tony had was gonna save her. In the end, reader comes to terms with it. But Natasha doesn’t want reader to give up. Reader get through to Natasha that she wants to spend her last moments with her without putting more strain on her body. Natasha then comes to terms with it. Eventually, on readers death bed, surrounded by the rest of the avengers, Natasha is holding reader in her arms as reader says goodbye and looks to Natasha and says “When the time is right, we’ll be together again. I’ll always be with you” (GO NUTS AND MAKE IT ANGSTY)

[spenciegoob]

Who Needs Luck?

A/N: hi! I solely wrote this because of my 3 recent visits to NY (no, I sadly did not meet mgg)... plus i’ve been going there my whole life.. this is becoming the longest authors note, but as i’m writing I just want to say the people who work at food trucks in nyc are the nicest people ever, ask them about their day (AND TIP OMG PLS)

Summary: Reader invites Spencer to go to New York City with her where he finally sees the beauty right in front of him.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff!

Content Warnings: reader can’t drive very well (I apologize if this is a callout post), slight road rage, language

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

____

I never considered myself a lucky man. Life had proven time and time again that no matter how many four leaf clovers I set out to search for, how many pennies on the ground faced heads up I stumbled across, luck was never on my side. I’ve learned to live with it, accepted my fate as the world’s smartest punching bag long before I was even in college.

But then I met her, and as cheesy as it sounds, I didn’t need luck that morning.

The second I woke up, the universe seemed to have it out for me specifically. I swung my legs over my bed, and in my half asleep daze stepped on my glasses, successfully breaking them. Unable to see on my short trip to the bathroom, I stubbed my toe… twice. Once I finally finished my morning routine more methodically, I walked out of my apartment only to bump into a stranger, sending the coffee she was holding all the both of us.

I had tried to apologize so many times, cutting my words short when they didn’t feel right. I had gotten through a series of “I’m, uh, oh, I, you,” before her smile interrupted my thought process, leaving me awestruck instead.

“That’s okay, but you owe me a coffee now.” She giggled, actually giggled, even with the scorching liquid causing her shirt to stick to her body. “Maybe… together?”

I didn’t hesitate to agree, taking her up on the offer that weekend and never looking back. Even when a loud crash, followed by a quiet, harsh ‘shit’ woke me up in a startle, there was no regret. Maybe just a little concern for my girlfriend who now that my eyes have adjusted to the darkness, can be seen holding her knee on the floor of our bedroom.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered out, grabbing onto the dresser to stand straight again. Once she was on her feet, she came over to sit on the edge of our bed, immediately running her fingers through my hair. If I wasn’t so worried about her knee, I probably would’ve fell asleep again.

“Are you okay?” She giggled at my scratchy morning voice before nodding her head. It’s then I realized how the sun hasn’t even begun to rise, the room still pitchblack. “What are you doing up?”

“Getting ready to go to the city, sleepyhead,” she said as if it was the most obvious answer, but truthfully, it left me with more questions.

“At... 5 am?” I sat up, glancing at the alarm clock three times just to make sure I was reading it right. She may have always been a little strange, but usually at a reasonable hour.

At this, she stood up to continue getting ready for the very early morning. Now I notice why she fell, the piles of clothes leading to the closet had to have at least half of her outfits compiled together.

“Well, yeah. I want to get there before noon.” Even in my perplexed state, I rose from the bed and carefully tiptoed around haphazardly thrown clothes to reach her.

While wrapping my arms around her waist still hidden under my t-shirt, I questioned. “It’s right outside? You have 7 hours.”

She turned to look at me funny as if I wasn’t the one digging through clothes and waking up before dawn to walk literally 5 minutes to my desired location. My eyebrows must have subconsciously furrowed at one point, because she brought her hand up to stroke her thumb on my forehead. Immediately, I felt the tension melt, no longer caring to correct my confusion. She still did it anyway.

“Not DC, silly. New York!” I wish it were untrue, but my heart dropped at her words. She was leaving, going to a city I wasn’t familiar with beyond reading about, solving cases, and memorizing subway maps. Is this how she feels every time I board that jet?

“W-what? You’re just going to New York City?” I inwardly cringed at how desperate and sad I sounded, but I really didn’t want her to leave.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, turning back around to return digging in her closet.

“For how long?” Please change your mind. Please change your mind. Please change you-

Realizing that I was fully awake, she let out a boisterous laugh, allowing the way it bounced off our four little walls to return back to us. It was a sound most treasured. “I was hoping to get back around 9.”

“What?” I leaned back to look at her like she was absolutely preposterous. I mean, she was!

“Roadtrip!”

That’s how I found myself in the passenger seat of her car, no coffee in my hand because I wasn’t allowed until I have “a real cup of coffee.” Whatever the hell that means better happen soon, because as much as I loved watching the way she concentrates on the road in front of her, my eyes were starting to droop.

“It’s going to be another 4 hours. You can sleep, my love.” How she knew me so well, I will never be able to figure out, but I was out before we even made it across state borders.

That however, didn’t last very long. My girlfriend may be short and sweet, but behind the wheel? That’s a different story. The horn to her car is a very familiar sound when I’m jolted awake by a sudden stop.

“Really, asshole? Go!” She yelled, slamming her hand against the top of the steering wheel before looking over at me. “Hey, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you yet. I forgot how awful drivers are here.”

“Where is here exactly?” I questioned, sitting up from my slouched position to find cars practically on top of each other on a road not wide enough for two lanes.

“New Jersey. We’re 10 minutes away.” Wow, I didn’t realize I slept for that long, and I have to admit I’m a little surprised I wasn’t woken up sooner.

“How are we 10 minutes away? It’s at least another 30 to get to the tunnel.” Looking at our surroundings didn’t help me determine our exact location. To the left of us, there were dozens of graffiti murals on the side of what I assumed was another elevated highway. To the right, sidestreets with local businesses ranging from auto repair shops to fast food joints to gyms.

“Nuh uh, stop analyzing mister. You’ll know when we get there.” She waved a finger in my directions, putting a pin in my scrutinization. I pouted right back, successfully playing along to the theme of her scolding me like a 5 year old.

“I don’t like surprises you know.” It was the truth, but her contagious laughter that filled the car made me slightly less disinclined to stop asking questions.

“Oh I know, but trust me, you’ll like this one.” She went to go reach over to grab my hand from where it was resting in my lap, but stopped short and retracted in favor of slamming the horn. “Oh, come on!”

***

“So you drove to a train station... in New Jersey?” I asked while she was… attempting to park the car.

“Well, yeah. I’ve been taking this route since I was a little girl.” Once she finally figured out how to evenly space a two door convertible in a very spacious parking spot, she unbuckled her seatbelt, and was quick to grab her bag from the backseat. “Well, come on mister, we’re going to miss the train.”

To be quite honest, I have never been so lost in my life. I could probably pinpoint our exact location on a map if I wanted to, granted I was given any sort of information, but part of me didn’t want to. Scratch that, all of me didn’t want to, because my entire life has been planned out in front of me before, but right now, I get to be spontaneous with the most beautiful girl on the planet.

“Don’t let go of my hand,” she told me, lacing our fingers together and pulling me forward. “Don’t stop to look around, you will get pushed.”

We made it inside, and if I thought the DC transit system was bustling with people constantly, this place was so much worse. There were hallways left and right, all packed with people in a rush. It seems everybody had some place to be and zero time to get there.

“Upstairs.” We walked up two flights before reaching a platform, buying our tickets and making it just in time for a train to arrive. “I know they come every 8 minutes, but thank god we made this one,” she said as she sat down.

The cart we were in wasn’t too crowded, and once I finally found a map on the wall across from us, I saw that it was a direct ride to the World Trade Center.

“You said you took this train when you were little?”

“Yeah, I went to the city a lot as a kid. This was the easiest, and the cheapest way there.” A small smile played at her lips, obviously the product of some childhood memory. “I used to hop it.”

“Of course you did,” I laughed back with her, thinking about how an innocent looking child would be the first person to get away with sneaking onto the train.

***

“I said it before, I will say it again. Do not let go of my hand.” This time it was more stern, and if I were being honest, I would say that it got me the slightest bit nervous. She must have noticed, she always does, because she continued. “Don’t worry, it just gets congested and I don’t want to lose you.”

She was right about that, it indeed was very congested, but that was okay because she was holding my hand, and I would follow her just about anywhere if it meant she kept looking over her shoulder and smiling when she saw me. Once we made it across the way, and in front of heavy looking glass doors, she turned to me and started walking backwards.

“You okay? This is definitely not off to a great start.” She was wrong, it was off to a perfect start.

“Yeah, I’m okay, but you might want to watch where you’re going,” I said before her back hit the door.

“Please I can get here with my eyes closed.” And then we were outside, and all 5 of my senses were hit immediately. The sun was shining down on us, and before I could complain about not bringing my sunglasses, she handed them to me. My heart fluttered at the innocent act, taking the sunglasses with such gratitude even though she had already moved on to retrieve hers. “Do you smell that?” She asked.

“There are a lot of answers to that question,” I told her, not knowing if she was talking about the smell of the construction happening at the corner, the permanent garbage smell or something entirely different.

“The hotdogs, silly. Come on, there’s nothing like ‘em.” This time, I laced our fingers together, not because I was scared of losing her, I was, but I just really wanted to be closer to her. She didn’t mind, in fact, she let out a content hum and leaned her head on my arm as we walked to the stand.

“Can I get four hotdogs with sauerkraut and two grape sodas,” she asked the vendor, who politely nodded before moving on to prepare our food.

“You’re going to have a heart attack by 35,” I said as I nudged her with my shoulder. She gave me a small push back before answering.

“Is that a doctor’s diagnosis?” She asked as she took our now ready food into her hands, after paying the man before I even had time to blink. I just grabbed the two cans of soda and followed her where she was making a beeline for a park bench. “Watch out for skaters.”

“Yes, it is indeed a doctor's diagnosis.” I unwrapped one of the hotdogs before taking a bite. I closed my eyes and let out a content hum. “It may be a little worth it.”

“Exactly.” We sat there quietly, enjoying the warm weather and sounds of wheels against pavement. At one point, she rested her head against my shoulder, and I am convinced wherever she went would be Heaven.

***

“Are your eyes closed?” We found ourselves with both our hands interlocked, my eyes closed while she walked backwards. I gave an ‘mhm’ before she continued. “We’re here, just keep them closed, and…” her words trailed off. “Okay open.”

I opened my eyes to her holding her arms out in the middle of the largest bookstore I’ve ever seen. “Surprise!” My eyes were bouncing everywhere. It wasn’t too crowded, the large stairwell across the store catching my eye first. There were bookshelves tens of feet high, all loaded with different genres and authors. To the right of us, tiny knick knacks and pins and socks. It was beautiful.

“Wow,” I whispered out, still stuck in my place admiring our surroundings. She was beaming up at me, a hint of pride at her successfulness to drag me 6 hours away to the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.

“The Strand has always been my favorite place in the city. Come on, let’s go explore.” She grabbed my hands again, pulling me deeper into the store towards a shelf labeled adult fiction.

***

Six books, three pairs of socks and a postcard later, we were back on the busy streets of New York, aimlessly walking and admiring the tall buildings and different attractions. Well she was, I was admiring the way she was looking around like it was her first time here. Maybe I should have been paying more attention to our surroundings, but no amount of skyscrapers or fountains could possibly ever match up to her level of beauty. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” I asked randomly, startling her into jumping a tiny bit before giggling. She stopped us, turning to face me fully before reaching up to grab my face in her hands.

“Once or twice.” The kiss we shared on the New York streets were no different than the ones before, but this time, it felt like a silent promise. A passing between two lovers that no matter where we are, our love is the most beautiful thing there is. “I love you too, dork.”

___

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