#& i know they still probably don’t have power still

[theglamorousferal]

Casper High Youtube Consortium

Team Phantom - Extended Edition

AmityUnsolved - Hey Tucker, how is the list of ecto-rich cities coming? I don’t want to have to wait another whole year to apply for college.

AmityUnsolved - Not that i’m not enjoying researching with the ghosts, I’d just like to get something on paper so I can get, like, a real job?

PharaohTuck - I’m working on it, I only have access to the one satellite so far dude

AmityUnsolved - Hey, was just asking

PharaohTuck - it’s fine dude, I should have it done for the end of the week tho

DashingDash - really? sweet

PollyPocket - fabulous!

AStarIsBorn - about time dweeb

IShotFirst - finally

TaeKwanDo - hell yeah dude

IToldYouSo - please let Metropolis be on the list, pleasepleaseplease

PharaohTuck - ancients dude calm down, other places have good journalism programs too

IToldYouSo - yeas but I want to inter at The Daily Planet

DashingDash - yeas

TaeKwonDo - yeas

IShotFirst - yeas

PharaohTuck - yeas

PollyPocket - yeas

AStarIsBorn - yeas

AmityUnsolved - yeas

EbonyDarkness - yeas

SpaceCase - yeas

PharaohTuck - oh hey @SpaceCase @EbonyDarkness glad to see you back in the land of the living

EbonyDarkness - really?

SpaceCase - har har tuck

PharaohTuck - I do my best work for you, you know that

DashingDash - ew keep your flirting outta the main chat you three

PharaohTuck - no but seriously, how’s things in the gz? run into anybody you didn’t mean to?

SpaceCase - nah, just the usual ghost shit

EbonyDarkness - translation: he somehow earned himself a new title again

SpaceCase - SAM!

IShotFirst - really not surprised at this point

DashingDash - what the fuck fentonio

TaeKwonDo - what is your life man…

IToldYouSo - goddamnit Fenton

PollyPocket - is it at least cool this time? what was the last one again?

AStarIsBorn - Lord of Lougies

PollyPocket - eugh right that

AmityUnsolved - So, what is it this time?

SpaceCase - well, the username is a bit more fitting now I guess

SpaceCase - you’re talking to the new Ancient of Space™

DashingDash - again I say: WHAT THE FUCK FENTON!

IToldYouSo - wait like space as in outer space or space as in the concept of space

SpaceCase - yes

PharaohTuck - I’m with dash on this one dude, what the actual fuck

SpaceCase - on the bright side, I can now make portals and teleport

TaeKwanDo - dude you should totally do doordash

SpaceCase - if my powers were public then I totally would, I’d make bank

PharaohTuck - you could always pretend it’s an invention your parents made, they did make that portal bazooka that one time

SpaceCase - ooh good idea

EbonyDarkness - the boy finds out he can alter space and can access all knowledge of it and everything contained within and he uses the powers to work at doordash

EbonyDarkness - you know, sometimes I see all the shit we do on paper and I think we’re responsible adults and then shit like this happens and I remember we’re still kids

IShotFirst - eh at least we know he won’t use the powers for evil?

EbonyDarkness - rich coming from you

IShotFirst - hey, I apologized for all that shit and you know it

EbonyDarkness - I know, you didn’t really know any better, it’s just fun to rile you up sometimes

IShotFirst - oh well fuck you too then

IToldYouSo - waitwaitwait Fenton, can you feel all of the Earth if you concentrate on it?

SpaceCase - yeah, probably, why?

IToldYouSo - do you think you could feel where the highest concentrations of ectoplasm are on the world? It would save Tucker some time and probably a headache

SpaceCase - you  know what? It’s worth a shot

SpaceCase - whoa

IToldYouSo - what???

EbonyDarkness - hold up I’ll get a picture

EbonyDarkness - (photo of Danny in Phantom Form with a cloak of stars and holding an icy globe in his hands. There were bright ecto-green dots all over the miniature of the Earth.)

PharaohTuck - hey, if you bring that over I can cross-reference it with a world map and get this done tonight

IToldYouSo - come on Metropolis

PharaohTuck - so bad news, Metropolis isn’t one of the ecto-rich places

IToldYouSo - goddamnit

PharaohTuck - however, Gotham, an hour’s train ride away, is

PharaohTuck - and it happens to be the place that has all of our majors in or nearby

SpaceCase - Jazz will be excited, she wanted to eventually work at Arkham and we can’t just keep sending her ecto all the time. Luckily London was ecto-rich

PollyPocket - omg yesyesyes they have SUCH a good fashion program

AStarIsBorn - and their business program too!

DashingDash - hell yeah, they have a great phys ed course

TaeKwanDo - I’d have to hop on the train with you to Metropolis for Vet Tech stuff Wes

IToldYouSo - THANK THE ANCIENTS

SpaceCase - you’re welcome

PharaohTuck - snrk nice one

AmityUnsolved - oh cool! They have a pretty good forensics school in Gotham!

EbonyDarkness - oh hell yes, do you think I could get Dr Isley’s autograph on my botanical science textbook?

PharaohTuck - oh no, you aren’t allowed anywhere near that woman

EbonyDarkness - and why is that Tucker?

PharaohTuck - Sam, you’re on your way to beating Jane Fonda’s record for being pap‘d while being arrested at protests

PharaohTuck - do you know how hard it is to keep your name off watch lists as it is?

EbonyDarkness - and I thank you for that every time. What’s your point?

PharaohTuck - Sam, you and Ivy would take over the world together

EbonyDarkness - hey, she’s mostly reformed at this point, I was just gonna suggest she request to be in charge of the green spaces of Gotham and maybe introduce fruiting trees to sidewalks all over the city so the homeless can eat

PharaohTuck - fine, but so help me if I have to hack into the Pentagon from the back of a taxi following a police car with you in it again, I’m gonna be pissed

EbonyDarkness - hey, that asshole deserved it

IShotFirst - as enlightening as this conversation is, and I would like the full story the next time I see you, back to the topic at hand. Are we all gonna try and find a place together for college?

PollyPocket - I have a whole account set aside for housing that’s been waiting until we found out where I was going. It should be able to at least put a down payment on a place that can fit us all

EbonyDarkness - same here, Grandma Ida has been excited for us all and set aside some too

EbonyDarkness - want to meet up and we can start looking at places? 

PollyPocket - sounds good to me, are you all okay with us figuring out the housing situation for all of us?

SpaceCase - less thinking for me is always a happy thing

PharaohTuck - yeah, I trust you guys to figure it out

IShotFirst - just make sure the place has a gym for me or at least a place where I can have one

AStarIsBorn - if you need help looking over anything, just message me, I have work at the library tomorrow, but I can answer texts

IToldYouSo - yeah, I’ll look into the commuter train between Gotham and Metropolis

TaeKwanDo - oh can you send me that info too? I’m at the shelter tomorrow otherwise I’d join you

AmityUnsolved - I’ll look up the requirements for admission for all of us and drop it in the Drive

SpaceCase - sick. now if you need me, no you don’t. at least not for the next 14 hours as I’m going to be asleep. @IShotFirst you’re primary defenses until I am conscious, showered and fed again

IShowFirst - you are so lucky it’s my day off from training tomorrow danny

SpaceCase - thanks val <3

IShotFirst - fuck you ghost boy <3

AStarIsBorn - your friendship confuses me sometimes

PollyPocket - for real tho 

SpaceCase - it’s all in good fun don’t worry. now I’m going to bed, we probably all should tbh

EbonyDarkness - night

PharaohTuck - night

PollyPocket - night

IShotFirst - night

AStarIsBorn - night

TaeKwanDo - night

DashingDash - night

IToldYouSo - night

AmityUnsolved - Goodnight!

Amity Parkers moving to Gotham for college. Sam and Paulina pooling their trust funds together to buy an abandoned hotel and fitting it as apartments for everybody. They all train together in the courtyard to keep their skills up and just because it's fun. Suddenly an influx of super competent self-trained (or maybe ghost-trained) young adults.

Everybody having their little niches and suddenly they all have more free time that's not being taken up by ghost attacks so many of them started different YouTube channels with info they found out from the ghostly residents of Amity. Star and Paulina running a history of beauty channel going over makeup, hair styles and fashion, special guest Sam when going over alt fashions. Dash and Kwan running one on the history of sports. Wes and Mikey running a conspiracy theory podcast. Valerie running a martial arts channel. Danny just info-dumping about space and spacecraft in videos that range from 45 minutes to four hours. Tucker running a how-to channel for fixing tech and coding. Sam running a combination true crime and witchy channel. The Trio running a Let's Play channel.

Ghostly things happening in all of the videos and everybody guesting on everybody else's channels leads to everybody thinking it's all an elaborate ARG. Danny just floating through the walls half-asleep with a glowing shaker bottle in the background. Some of them when they're in the middle of a rant seem to forget to take a breath or their eyes or freckles start glowing. On a livestream Paulina snaps at somebody off screen and her eyes are suddenly glowing green. Danielle pops in during a charity livestream that the Trio are running and calls Danny-Daddy, Sam-Mom, and Tucker-Dad and is just floating on the back of the couch. Danny doing a stream to watch a rocket take off and suddenly a robe and crown flash and he disappears in a flash of green and the stream is just dead space until the rocket's about to take off and Danny comes running in and jumps over the back of his chair to watch it and cheer.

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (13)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: the elections distracted me! This should have been up ages ago 💙 Anyhow, look at our boy pout up there. Darling never stood a chance.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Darling gets closer to making her choice.

The holiday is already shaping up to be your most memorable one yet, and it’s only halfway done. 

Between all the commotion in the press about Ewan’s film, the lively spin-the-bottle game last night, and your… boys being more brazen in their affections, it doesn’t matter that you’re still half-limping and that one gorgeous blonde girl is testing the limits of your patience—Mallorca is one for the books.

Half of your vacation crew decided to head out into town for the afternoon, allowing you to see more of the local scene. Bethany, Phia, Luke, and Elliott have ventured off to see some shops moments prior, promising to rejoin the group with loads of goodies. So you walk the cobblestone streets with Tom and Freddie on either side, the lads promising to catch you should your ankle ‘betray you and make you faceplant on the street’. 

Because, as Freddie put it, they “can’t have the show’s rising star with a blow to her money-maker,” pertaining to your lovely face. 

You were able to finally remove your fracture boot that morning, after a long-distance call to your doctor, but you still have to slightly drag your left leg as you walk.

“Mate, if you could hurry up a little, maybe we can see more of the town,” Tom remarks with a cheeky smirk. He’s had an arm looped around yours the whole time, ever on the lookout. 

��Sure, let me just use my incredible powers of self-healing. Maybe we can check one of these souvenir shops if they’ve got a bionic leg on sale,” you deadpan, fighting hard to stifle a laugh. 

The fledgling weeks of spring bring a steady warmth to Mallorca. The sunlight is bright yet tempered as it casts its glow over the cobblestone streets, illuminating the quaint storefronts and cafes that line that town square. It’s a picture-perfect afternoon, so long as you don’t turn back to Ewan and Louise who are trailing a bit behind. 

But your curiosity wins over, and you see Ewan smiling politely as Louise gestures animatedly, completely absorbed in her tale. You immediately realise your mistake, a pang of something—guilt, longing, confusion… and jealousy, because who are you fooling—tightening in your chest. You quickly turn back to Tom and Freddie, who are too busy scheming to notice your reaction.

“So, do we let Ewan suffer, or do we intervene?” Tom asks, tilting his head toward the pair.

You can only shrug. “I think he’s handling it. It’s probably better to give them some space.” The truth is, you know Ewan well enough to sense when he’s at his wit’s end, and even though he looks like he’s about to throw in the towel, you don’t want to complicate things further. 

Who are you to deny Louise some quality time with your good buddy Ewan Mitchell? He is a stand-up guy, after all, and all of you are friends here. It’s a casual day out, nothing but a good time. 

And… you do need some time to let his confession sink in. He has given the power to you, and the only thing left to do would be to choose him.

You love him, you love him, you love him. 

So the choice should be easy, but why isn’t it?

Freddie smirks. “Space, you say? You mean you’re hoping he’ll finally snap and make a break for it?”

“Maybe,” you admit with a small smile. “Can you blame him?”

The three of you linger by a cafe, chatting to your heart’s delight. You catch sight of Ewan glancing your way, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. Hey, he mouths, staring you down until Louise nudges him, and he has to shift his focus back to her. 

“Honestly, though,” Tom continues, “what’s the deal with him and Louise? He looks like he’s drowning over there.”

“Maybe she’s finally wearing him down,” you say, half-joking, but you’re aware of how often Ewan gives too much of himself sometimes, especially to someone like Louise. The boy’s just too sweet and polite to say no. 

“I give him five minutes before he either leaves or starts shouting for you,” Freddie chimes in, his eyes dancing behind his sunglasses. “It’s a safe bet.”

Before you can respond, Ewan’s voice rises above the clamour of the street. “Actually, that’s not what I meant—”

“I can’t believe you thought that!” Louise interrupts, playfully punching Ewan’s arm, her tone a mix of disbelief and enthusiasm. “But that’s what makes you so unique! You always see things differently.”

What’s unique is the expression Ewan sports as a reaction, akin to a deer about to be hit by a Jeep.

“Unique?” Ewan repeats, a note of incredulity in his voice. He shakes his head, his mouth falling open, like he’s trying to find the words. Louise leans in closer, mentioning something about how cute he looks when confused. 

Well, she’s not wrong there. You have to hand it to her—she’s persistent.

“Why are we just standing around?” Tom suddenly says. “Let’s get some drinks. We need to fuel up for the gossip you owe us.”

“I’m in,” you say a bit too quickly, desperate for a distraction. You motion toward a quaint nearby bar with a bustling atmosphere. It seems like the perfect refuge, far from the intensity of the current situation. The bartender greets you with a grin, and Tom takes charge, ordering a round of brightly-coloured cocktails that seem to match the vibe of the holiday. 

Tom gives you a sly look over his glass. “So here we are, eh?”

“Here we are,” you nod, sensing something coming round the corner. 

“My god, this cocktail is amazing!” Freddie gasps dramatically, oblivious to the look you and Tom are sharing. “I must know what’s in this… Is that gin and… and what?”

“I myself would rather know,” Tom begins, leaning forward, “about the truth behind all the drama. The are-they-or-aren’t-they of it all. My missus has also been bugging me about it. All she talks about is you and your Ewan.” 

Freddie’s grin is huge as he raises his glass. “Bloody hell, cheers to that then! I know there’s something brewing, but no one ever tells me the details. What is this, a fight to the death? May the best Targaryen win? Lucky girl you are.”

Tom snorts. “Or may the right man win. Which, to be honest, is not Matt in this scenario.”

Freddie’s jaw drops in mock horror, clutching his chest. You may take the lad out of classical theatre for a while, but you can’t take classical theatre out of the lad. “Excuse me? Matt is a national treasure, he’s mature and reliable, and he throws a fabulous party. Might I mention how highly he speaks of you?”

Tom shoots him a scornful look. “Reliable. How riveting. Look, I love the guy, but Ewan’s practically half of her soul—”

You groan. “Can we not turn this into a debate? I’m actually trying to keep things simple now.”

“Simple,” Tom repeats, one blonde eyebrow arching. “Darling, nothing about this is simple, especially not since Ewan isn’t bound to that ridiculous PR setup anymore. Are you going to pretend that it doesn't change things?”

Freddie waves a finger. “It doesn’t have to change things. Matt’s good for her. I mean, they’re actually happy, and you need someone solid, love. Someone who isn’t going to fling you around emotionally, from the very little that I’ve heard.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “Of course, you’d think that. You get all your goss from Liv and she basically adores Matt.”

Freddie clutches his glass defensively. “Well I know for a fact that Matt is fun! And steady! You don’t need fireworks all the time to make something work.”

“But fireworks are the whole point, you know?” Tom insists. “You can’t reduce a relationship to sensible compatibility and call it love.”

“Love can be practical too,” Freddie says, looking at you. “Wouldn’t it be nice to just…breathe? To not have to worry about how he’s going to handle things every other minute?”

You wince, half-convinced by Freddie’s logic, but then Tom’s voice cuts in, softer, more serious.

“Sure, she could breathe,” Tom says, “but let’s not forget who actually takes her breath away.”

It hits you, the truth you’ve been dancing around with both of them.

Freddie gives you a sidelong look. “Alright, love, confession time. Say Ewan was still bound to that PR relationship, do you really think you could have handled not being with him? Watching him essentially be with someone else?”

You swallow, glancing down at your drink. “It would have hurt, but I would have had to handle it.”

Tom keeps the interrogation going. “And now? What would you do if he does end up with someone else? Louise seems to have her claws in him.”

You let out a huff, your next words decisive. “Look, if she can take him that easily, then he’s all hers.” Because that would mean all those heartfelt phrases about being so in love with you aren’t true. 

That’s the reasonable part of you. The other, less savoury part wouldn’t hesitate to get your own claws in Louise if she swoops in to take your man, petty catfight style.

“But see! See here,” Freddie exclaims in glee, “We’re talking about Ewan and she’s already stressed. She needs a break from the drama, Tom, and Matt is like… an oasis.”

Tom rolls his eyes but doesn’t let it go. “Sure, an oasis that leaves her wishing she were somewhere else half the time.” He sighs, his voice softening. “Look, Matt’s lovely, but he’s not the one. He’s not the one who can turn your whole world upside down, and I know you two. I’ve seen you together, I’ve seen you apart, and trust me, you’re so much better together. Hell, it’s better for all of us too! I simply cannot deal with Ewan moping around again.”

You feel your cheeks warm as you consider his words. It’s almost dizzying, trying to compare the two men, as though they represent opposite sides of you, each offering something you desperately need. They’re both right, in different ways. With Matt, there’s a sense of stability that you haven’t felt before. He’s steady, he’s sweet, and he genuinely adores you despite all of the tangled strings that have bound you to Ewan. 

But with Ewan… you want him, love him, with an intensity that is almost all-consuming. It’s the kind they write songs about, the kind that drives hearts crazy. 

Freddie drops the dramatics, his voice sincere when he speaks again. “Darling, Tom’s got a point, but just… be honest with yourself. What do you really want? Because whatever you decide, it’s your heart on the line. And you know, we’re here for you, no matter who you choose.” And then, as if with the flick of a switch, he turns his flair back on. “God, you could choose me, just so you don’t have to deal with this dilemma of yours anymore!”

You let out a breathy laugh, all the tension you’re feeling dissipating. “I just might!”

Tom mirrors your laughter. “Now that’s a dangerous idea. But hey, life’s short, right? You don’t have to have it all figured out right this second.”

Freddie grins, raising a toast. “To being a beautiful mess.”

You clink your glass with theirs, watching in amusement as they both begin bickering again over who’s really the better choice. As the debate drifts over to which drink to order next, a quiet but unmistakable presence makes its way to your table. Ewan stands behind you, his hands resting on the back of your chair. 

“I’ve been looking for you guys,” he greets calmly. 

Freddie doesn’t hesitate to take a playful jab. “Ah, Ewan! All by your lonesome now? Where’s your lady?”

Ewan perches on the last empty chair on your table, catching your eyes. “My lady’s right here,” he smirks, and he says the words with such ease that your cheeks heat. Everyone would benefit from taking lessons in the Ewan Mitchell School of Charm. “Fancy a walk, darling?”

You quickly glance at Tom and Freddie, whose raised brows practically tell you that they’re going to be chattering about this as soon as you’re out of earshot. “Try not to miss me too much, boys,” you wink at them, letting Ewan help you out of your seat and whisk you away. He offers his arm to you for support, and the two of you fall into stride, allowing the buzz of Mallorca’s streets to fill the quiet between you.

“So,” he starts, “I sure hope Tom and Freddie didn’t give you any trouble.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you smile, your tone lowering as you decide to tease him a little. “We would have invited you over, but you seemed to have plenty of… entertainment yourself.” You playfully wag your eyebrows at him, and he makes a show of groaning and turning away.

“Don’t remind me, my darling,” he groans. “I was so close to faking an illness and making my escape.”

You chuckle at his apparent distress. “Poor Ewan. It must be so hard being adored by a beautiful girl, isn’t it? Wait, where is she again? Did you scare her off?”

“Phia came to my rescue. They went walking by the bay or something, I don’t know. And about being adored, it only matters to me if it’s by you.”

You’re about to lean into a joke and call his bluff, when he adds, “Well, you… and my mum.”

“I thought so,” you giggle, his eyes holding yours with a familiar sweetness. But then his gaze is snagged by something behind you. 

“Is it just me, or does that cat look suspiciously like Sansa?” Ewan points to the front display of a rustic souvenir shop, and you immediately see a plush black cat with curious amber eyes.

You gasp softly, your hand tightening around his bicep. “I did leave Sansa back with my neighbour in London, right?”

“Are you sure? She’s right there, darling,” he plays along, grinning. “I think I’d recognise my daughter when I see her.”

“Your daughter, huh? The most you have right now is visitation rights.”

“Wait here, baby,” he presses a kiss to your temple, leaving you leaning against the wall across the shop. He disappears inside, emerging just moments later, the little cat plushie already in his hands. His expression is tender as he passes it to you. “Here. Figured you could use a bit of home.”

You take the little black cat, heart swelling at the sweetness of his gesture. “Thank you, Ewan. She’s perfect.”

He’s all smiles, his dimples deepening as he nods in response. 

You hug plush Sansa to your chest. “Now I wish they also had whippet plushies, so I can give you a piece of home too…” 

Ewan’s gaze softens, and he shifts slightly, his gaze dropping as he gathers his thoughts. “Darling, I hope you won’t think I’m just trying to score brownie points here or something, given the current situation, but honestly…” He hesitates, but makes up his mind as his eyes meet yours. “If I wanted to feel at home, all I really need is… to be with you.”

Your breath catches, and your mind is too focused on what you’ve just heard that your hold loosens around plush Sansa, causing it to nearly stumble out of your hands. 

“Ewan,” you say softly, your voice laced with an affection you can’t quite dampen. “You don’t play fair, you know that?”

He chuckles, a little self-conscious, his hand reaching for yours. “You know me, darling, and you know how I feel about you.” His thumb brushes over your knuckles, and the touch is light, almost reverent.

“So, no Sansa needed, huh?” you tease gently, trying to keep things light even as the weight of his words lingers. 

His smile returns, a little shy, a little playful. “You got that right. But maybe we don’t have to tell Sansa about this.”

You’re about to offer a witty rejoinder, when a cheerful shout slices through the air. “Ewan!” It’s Louise, her voice loud and undeniably eager, and you find yourself dropping Ewan’s hand. 

And either you’re not in her line of sight, or she just didn’t bother calling out to you too. What a delightful girl.

“Oh,” Louise finally acknowledges you. “That’s a nice… toy you’ve got there.”

“It’s a plushie actually,” you mutter dryly, wiggling plush Sansa in the air.

Ewan snorts at your deadpan expression, and much to Louise’s obvious annoyance, he drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you snugly against him. “I got it for her. It’s almost an exact replica of her cat, isn’t it, darling?”

Your eyes widen at his purposeful cheekiness. The lad has finally had enough of another girl trying to get a bite out of him. “Well, yeah…” you stumble on your words, “It does look like her.”

Louise pouts. “What a nice, friendly gesture.”

Ewan chuckles to himself, not letting her mood dampen his spirits. “I think it’s rather romantic.”

“Hold on,” Louise responds, appraising you with a raised eyebrow. “Aren’t you dating Matty?”

“Uhhh—”

“There you kids are!” Phia materialises out of thin air, an angel in disguise.

Oh, you could just kiss the very ground she walks on.

Everyone makes their way to the pool area the next afternoon, the group scattered all around the lush backyard of the villa.

Matt lingers outside your door, waiting for you to finish changing. He leans casually against the railing, his gaze drifting downstairs to Fabien and Elliott, who are hauling crates of beer toward the poolside. He whistles and shouts out a playful, “Save me some, lads!”

“Waiting on your woman, Romeo?” Elliott sings up at him.

Matt waves them away, spinning around to face your door. As he waits, his mind drifts back to a conversation he had with Liv the evening before. She’d seen right through him, spotting the quiet insecurities he tried to keep buried and urging him to go all in with you, to show you what he couldn’t quite put into words. And so, he decided he would; he’d pour everything into showing you just how much he cared.

He has the advantage in that he hasn’t hurt you the way Ewan has in the past, and he has absolutely no intention of doing so, not when being with you feels like the easiest, most natural thing in the world. 

To him, you are like the human equivalent of a shot of espresso, a musical laugh, a jolt of positive inspiration. He’s always felt this, but one night, many nights ago, this effect that you have on him became amplified.

And suddenly, you are all he sees.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way, especially not after you finally open the door. You don a forest green bikini that leaves little to the imagination, with a sheer white wrap tied loosely around your waist. 

Matt lets out a low whistle, walking up to you with a slow, playful swagger. You roll your eyes at him when he unapologetically draws his gaze over your bare skin, but he can’t help it.

You look so ravishing that he wants to push you back inside the room. As stunning as your bikini is, it would look even better off.

To hell with the pool.

“What do you think?” 

He has roused from whatever grey temperament he was stuck in, now that he’s had his espresso. “I'm a goner. Absolutely done for.”

“Flatterer.” You shake your head at him, taking in his broad, bare torso. “Well, you don’t look so bad yourself.” 

He smirks, his large hands kneading your waist. “I'm the luckiest man on the planet, and this is you after an accident, you say? My love, you're a vision in green.”

“You like the colour?”

“Mmm, if I didn't like you in it, I'd cause a fuss about how you're playing for the other team, my Alyna.” He swoops down and kisses the crook of your neck, the spot he is aware would tickle, eliciting a soft giggle out of you.

“I could never,” you say, swatting his arm. “They were just out of black bikinis at the shop.”

“Black... green... we both know you look the best without either of them on. I mean, we did establish that six times in one night, remem—”

“Matt!” you squeal, eyes wide and scandalised. He feels smug, because he made sure you would never forget that night. “You're such a dog. Come on, let's join the others. I can’t wait to finally dip my toes in the pool.”

He is one step ahead of you the whole time, paying special attention to your bad ankle. He knows he’s being too careful when you eye him strangely, but he doesn’t care. “I got you,” he says.

“I can walk, you know,” you huff. “I’d have been down here ten seconds ago if it wasn’t for you going all Mr. Protector.”

As you reach the final landing, Phia’s voice rings out, “Hands off my woman!”

“She’s got a point.” You tilt your head at Matt, lips pulling at the corners.

“Have I? I was just kidding,” she shakes her head, before mumbling under her breath. “I'm not Ewan.”

Matt huffs out in response, trying not to let it get to him. Phia takes your other arm, deaf to your protests. It’s silly, because they’re both aware that you can probably fend for yourself, but not if they have anything to say about it. 

Fabien, Elliott, and Harry are manning the grill out on the patio. Some of the ladies are cozying on their sun chairs. Ewan, Luke, and Freddie are smoking on a bench under a canopy. And Thom Yorke serenades the whole scene, the speakers emitting ambient music.

Matt’s always loved a good European excursion, but this one might be his favourite yet. Thanks to the girl who lets him fuss over her despite her feigned annoyance.

Your fingers dig tighter into his arm as the two of you lower into the pool. He relishes the moment and allows the ebb of the water to push him closer to his girl.

“Hold on to me.”

You roll your eyes, but wrap your arms around his shoulders anyway. “I'm fine, Matthew. My ankle’s almost healed back to normal.”

“Almost is the keyword there, my love. We can't take any chances. So... hold on to me, beautiful.” The late morning sun is a blanket comfort as you float on together, your laughter ringing out as he flaps an arm on the water and splashes your face. 

From the sidelines, Freddie lets out a loud, teasing whistle. Matt responds with a triumphant fist pump, turning to give him a cheeky grin. 

That might have been a mistake because his eyes landed on Ewan, seated comfortably to Freddie’s left, a cigarette burning low between his lips. His eyes are obscured by dark sunglasses, but he’s clearly surveying the scene unfolding in the pool with an air of nonchalance that doesn’t sit well with Matt. 

He would have expected Ewan to jump in the pool as well and make a show of laying a claim on you as he had before. But no. The younger lad just sits, and watches, the makings of a smirk pulling at his lips when Matt makes eye contact.

Since when has he been this self-assured? Perhaps you’re to credit for this renewed sense of confidence? 

Are you slipping away from him, and back into Ewan’s arms? 

Too many questions, and not even the pleasant haze of Spain can shake the anxiety out of him. 

But then, Liv strolls over, positioning herself in front of Ewan, blocking Matt’s view. She bums a cigarette from one of the guys, and as she turns, she gives Matt a subtle nod—a reminder of her advice from last night. Just show her, she’d said. Show her you’re all in.

Thank the heavens for Olivia.

Turning back to you, Matt softens, brushing a lock of hair from your face. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, feeling his doubts fade as you meet his gaze, eyes bright with laughter.

“Enjoying yourself there?” you ask sweetly.

“What’s not to enjoy?” he replies, his hand tracing slow, lazy circles on your back.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you glare like that before.”

“I was not glaring.”

“You so were, Matthew.”

“Oh, yeah?” he murmurs, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. Before you can react, he dips underwater, reemerging just inches from your thigh, where he plants a quick, teasing kiss that makes you yelp.

“Wha—Oh! Matt! Get up here!”

He surfaces, grinning, his arms winding around you again as he pulls you close. Your laughter mingles, echoing across the pool as the rest of the group cheers and jeers good-naturedly.

Just as Matt’s about to pull you in for another kiss, a loud shout breaks through the calm. 

“Cannonball!” Tom’s voice echoes from the villa, and before either of you can turn around, he comes barreling out, sprinting at full speed. With a triumphant yell, he launches himself off the edge, arms and legs splayed out like a human starfish.

The massive splash sends water arcing high, soaking you, Matt, and everyone within a ten-foot radius.

“Always one to ruin the moment, Tom,” Matt jokes.

“Had to make sure you two didn’t get too cosy,” Tom shoots back, swimming closer and clapping Matt on the shoulder. 

It’s all in good fun, sure, but then Matt catches Tom shoot a quick wink at Ewan, a flash of understanding passing between them.

So that’s how it’s going to be? Game on. 

It’s the penultimate day of the Mallorca trip and the group has rented boats to paddle out along the stunning coastline. Only 2 people are allowed per vessel and some pairs have already formed—Phia and Phoebe, Louise thankfully pulled away from Ewan by Bethany, Harry and Freddie…

And then there’s Ewan who strides over to you determinedly. Matt is a half-step behind, his expression expectant, but Ewan is quicker. “I’m with you today, darling,” he says, his tone leaving little room for question. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding.

Matt’s eyes flicker with disappointment but he’s never been one to kick up a fuss. He gives you a faint resigned shrug, then turns to Liv. “Guess that means you and I are a team then.”

Liv rolls her eyes playfully, pushing her sunglasses up and swatting his arm. “Don’t sound so thrilled. But I promise I won’t make you row the entire time.”

Matt’s smile softens as he looks at her, his earlier disappointment slipping into something more relaxed. “Fine, but I’m claiming the right to judge your rowing skills.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an excellent rower,” Liv insists, taking her spot at the front of the boat and casting a teasing glance at him. “You, on the other hand…we’ll see.”

As you and Ewan push off into the water, he throws a glance back at the others, and a spark of mischief lights his eyes. “Think they’ll survive?”

You laugh, settling across Ewan on the boat. “I think it’ll be a surprise if Tom’s boat doesn’t capsize.”

Soon enough, everyone’s boats are spaced out on the clear, serene waters, and there’s nothing but the occasional splash of oars, the birds squawking high above, and the warm glow of the horizon. Ewan rows steadily, having doggedly refused your offer to help, and every now and then, his eyes flick to you, a soft smile never leaving his lips. His gaze lingers, like he’s committing your image to memory.

As you watch the world, he watches his world.

“Feels like another reality out here, doesn’t it?” he says, his voice barely above a murmur.

You nod, watching the sunlight dance across the water. “It really does.” You pause, glancing over your shoulder to see Liv and Matt, already in animated conversation. “It’s nice to just… forget everything for a while.”

He smiles, tilting his head. “Anything specific you wanna forget?”

You smile back. “Everything, really. The pressures, the expectations… wondering what everyone thinks or wants.”

From a few metres away, Matt’s voice carries over the water, cutting through the quiet intimacy of the moment. “I’m just saying, Liv, you don’t have to prove anything. You can let me row.”

Liv laughs, her voice filled with playful defiance. “Matt, I am fully capable of handling this. Maybe it’s you who should be taking notes.”

“Oh, I’d hate to step on your expert skills,” Matt teases back, before throwing a glance your way, his gaze lingering a bit too long before he turns back to Liv, who seems blissfully unaware of his momentary distraction.

Ewan notices it too, and his grip on the oar tightens ever so slightly. But he says nothing, keeping his focus on you as he rows further along the shore.

He steers the boat around a small bend, his voice low. “They’re good together, don’t you think?”

You turn, following his gaze. It’s a simple, easy dynamic between them, one you know you’ve seen before, and for a moment, a pang of something unnameable twists in your chest.

“Yeah,” you murmur, a touch distracted.

Ewan catches your gaze, his eyes searching yours. “You seem… surprised. Or maybe… jealous?”

You laugh it off, shaking your head. “Not at all. It’s just—”

But before you can finish, a sudden splash interrupts you. Harry’s boat has tipped over, both he and Freddie flailing in the water, their laughter filling the air as they try to right themselves.

Bethany, a few feet away, doubles over, her laughter carrying over the waves. “Oh my god, Freddie, I told you to sit still!”

Harry, sputtering as he surfaces, grins. “Guess I got too excited.”

“So I was wrong,” you turn to Ewan, smirking. “It’s not Tom who capsized.”

Ewan just laughs, then adds slyly, “Here I was wishing it would have been Matt.”

After the boats return to shore, you’re all tired and exhilarated, the sun higher in the sky as you make your way up the beach. But the peace is short-lived. Fans, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, begin to gather along the shore, their voices excited, cameras ready as they shout greetings and ask for photos. The relaxed energy shifts as each of you is drawn into the swirl of attention, questions flying as you try to keep up.

A fan steps in close, slightly shaking in her nerves. “You… and Ewan?” she asks, the question open-ended but its meaning clear.

You chuckle awkwardly, caught off guard, opting to just wrap an arm around her shoulders as she takes a selfie with you. 

But the fan is relentless, her attention shifting to Matt, who’s standing off to the side with Liv, his gaze directed toward you even as he signs another fan’s poster. “What about him?” she says, grinning.

Ewan’s arm slips around your waist protectively, pulling you closer. “She’s with me today,” he says confidently, not minding the possibility of this fan taking to the internet after this encounter, with proof of her ship actually being together.

Ewan doesn’t care; he has no reason to hide how much he wants you. Not anymore. If his fans want a crumb, as he often reads online about him, then he’s going to give them a whole feast. 

With you as the main course in the Ewan banquet.

As the day comes to a close, you find yourself resting all alone in your room, stealing the group introvert mantle right under Ewan’s nose. Everything that has happened during this vacation plays in your mind like a montage, and somehow, it all feels like it’s building up to a grand finale.

But before you can lose yourself completely in your thoughts, there’s a soft knock at your door.

You groan to yourself as you walk over, but your protest dies as you find Ewan standing there, holding something behind his back.

“Hey, you,” he greets you with a smirk that’s more mischievous than usual. “Got a minute?”

Your heart skips a beat — it’s always been that way with him, that instant flutter, even now after everything. “Sure. What’s up?” 

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he says, his grin widening at your raised brow. He steps into your room, pulling whatever he’s hiding behind his back.

When he finally reveals it, you blink, eyes widening. “You... bought these?” You can’t help but laugh.

Two brightly coloured superhero masks — one Spider-Man, the other Spider-Gwen.

“Yep, I saw a costume shop that had Carnaval masks… and these too, apparently,” Ewan says, looking pleased with himself. “I thought it would be fun. We’re getting away from the villa tonight. I figured we could use these. You know, masks for our incognito date night.”

It had taken one quick scroll on the internet for your group to discover that the paparazzi trailed everyone around town today, and Elliott even annoyingly revealed that he might have seen one or two of them lingering outside the villa’s premises. 

Vultures.

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Wait, you’re serious? We’re wearing these to our… date? Wait, why are we going on a date?”

He shrugs with a playful glint in his eye. “Why not?”

You hesitate for a second. It’s such a ridiculous idea, but in the best possible way. He’s always had a way of pulling you out of your own head, making you feel like there’s no right or wrong way to just live in the moment. 

Or maybe he could propose anything—anything at all—and you’d be beside yourself if you refused. It’s how you and him ended up having copious amounts of…. casual lovemaking, months after breaking up.

“Okay,” you finally say, “but only if you promise not to laugh when I look completely ridiculous in it.”

“Never,” he says with mock solemnity, holding out the Spider-Gwen mask for you. “You’ll look amazing. Trust me.”

As you slink past the gates, the masks make you feel more than a little silly, but also oddly liberated. It’s like you’re in on another secret with him, something just for the two of you.

You look at him, smiling as you adjust the mask. “This is insane,” you say, your voice muffled behind the fabric.

Ewan smiles back, clearly pleased with himself. “I know. And it’s perfect.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just you practicing for an audition for yet another Spiderman reboot?”

He only playfully shoots air webs at you, his adorable pew-pew noises audible under his mask.

You chuckle softly, your heart warming at the sight of him. “So, what now? You’re just going to walk me through the streets like this?”

“Of course. You ready to go on the best secret date of your life?”

You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in days. “Lead the way, Spiderman.”

The walk isn’t long, just enough to enjoy the quiet of the night and the unexpected adventure of it all. When you finally arrive at the restaurant, you stop dead in your tracks, blinking up at the building in front of you. It’s perched on the edge of a cliff, offering a breathtaking view of the bay below. The warm glow of the restaurant spills out onto the street, and you’re immediately struck by how beautiful its facade is.

You look at Ewan, your surprise written all over your face. “This... this place looks amazing. How did you find it?”

“I have my ways,” he says, grinning. “Come on.”

He leads you up the stairs, and you both remove your masks as you enter, giggling to each other. You’re met with a homey, rustic atmosphere. There’s a dim light from lamps perched on the posts, the soft murmur of conversations, and the smell of fresh food in the air. It’s everything you didn’t realise you needed tonight—calm, peaceful, and more than a little romantic.

“I booked a private table for us,” Ewan says softly, glancing around for the waiter. 

The two of you are escorted to a table on the balcony, overlooking the bay. The moon reflects on the water, casting a silver glimmer over the scene. For a moment, you just sit there, both of you silent, taking it all in.

“Ewan, this is incredible,” you say, your voice quiet but full of admiration. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Ewan smiles, reaching across the table to take your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. And I promise this isn’t some ploy to get you to speed up your decision-making. I just… I just wanted you to have a night where you could forget about everything else.”

He leans back slightly, his eyes studying you with that gentle familiarity, like he’s waiting for you to say something more, but he doesn’t rush you.

You glance down at the simple sundress you’ve been wearing all day. You didn’t have time to change when Ewan mentioned the surprise evening out — there was no real thought given to a perfect outfit. And yet, as you sit here now, across from him in the warm candlelight, you don’t feel the usual self-consciousness you might’ve once felt. 

You feel more beautiful than you ever have before, because he sees you as the most beautiful person in the room. In any room.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you say, looking at him. “How you make everything feel so…” You trail off, unable to find anything adequate. 

His lips curl into a knowing, half-smile. “I feel the same about you.”

And you might not know it yet, but this night is when you choose him. 

Under the unprecedented rainfall, later on, you will realise that you never truly had to choose.

It’s always been Ewan, all along. 

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

I have no notes. The red mirage is still at play as I type this. Please distract me in the comments 🥲

The next chapter wraps up this trip :) We also might have a bit of Liv's POV...

Then it's back to LA or London, depending on who darling opts to go with 💛

[aricarianis]

CW: explicit depictions of violence and sexual themes.

John Price was the love of your life. Love is a powerful force—capable of building or destroying—and what you shared kept you bound to him for years. But only having his rough hands on your skin for a few months at a time, hearing his gruff voice say sweet nothings over the phone, missing the feel of his beard grazing your neck as his words seeped into you like venom, all wore down the foundations of what a real relationship was supposed to be.

He knew it. He felt the same sick ache in his chest every time he promised to come home soon, both of you aware it was a lie. He’d promised to slow down, to leave the job, to stay by your side, but the marriage you ended up with wasn’t the one you’d signed up for. You didn’t want a husband who vanished for months on end. When he returned, he’d devour you, craving your body like a hard drug. His hands too eager to find your sweet spots, cock too hungry to make you forget that he had lied. He'd push you into constant moments of bliss, tricking, but even his passion couldn’t erase the truth: he’d lie again.

In time, your marriage went where so many do. When he was handed the divorce papers at the base, he still tried to attack the process server. You wanted out, and nothing he did would change it—not refusing to sign, not tearing the papers up, not skipping court. You weren’t his anymore.

Life carried on, with months passing and, as usual, not a word from John. You thought losing the love of your life would be agony enough, but his indifference only added to the torment. Part of you wished you’d never met him; never knowing love would’ve been worth never knowing this pain.

The night before the hearing, you invited your lawyer to your flat to go over last-minute instructions. As the meeting wound down, a low, metallic sound came from the bedroom.

“Did you hear that?” you asked. He shook his head.

The two of you sat in tense silence for a moment, dread prickling at you. Your lawyer offered to check the bedroom, but you dismissed it, assuring him it was probably nothing. The meeting continued until, just before leaving, he asked to use the restroom. You directed him to the en suite, since the guest bathroom had stopped working that morning.

Lost in thought, you noticed several minutes had passed without him returning. Concerned, you called his name. No answer. Yelled. Still no answer. Your chest tightened, dread spreading through you like poison. Gripping the hunting knife John had given you for protection, you made your way to the bedroom.

“You can put that thing down, love. ‘S just me.” The gruff voice sent a shiver down your spine—unmistakable.

You peeked into the dark room, spotting the familiar silhouette against the dim light from the window. “John? H-how did you find me?”

“Why’d I have to find you in the first place?” His tone was cold, anger simmering beneath restraint.

“I needed space,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Single people live alone.”

“You know damn well you aren't single.”

“I’ve been single ever since I married you.”

Your words cut deep. His shoulders slumped as he sighed, hurt etched on his face.

“Where’s my lawyer?” you asked, searching the shadows.

“He’s not our problem anymore.”

“John…” Your breath hitched. “What did you do?”

“Someone’s trying to take you from me, innit? Was it him?”

“Where is he?”

“Think a piece of paper’ll keep me from you?” His voice dripped with rage.

“Why do you care? You love your job more than you love me—”

“Don’t say that.”

“I understand, John, but this wasn’t the marriage I was promised. I’d rather have none of you than pieces,” you said, your voice thick. “At least then I wouldn’t have to lie to myself that I’ll ever have you whole.”

He breathed heavily, brow furrowing as if struggling to comprehend your words.

"Why can't you just admit you've fucked up and leave me alone, huh? You had months to pull this little stunt—it's too late to care now."

John’s expression went blank, unreadable. He lunged, disarming you with practiced ease, gripping you by the hair and throwing you onto the bed. Your back hit something solid, unfamiliar beneath the covers.

He flicked on the light, and before your eyes adjusted, he was above you, pressing the knife to your throat. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his beard scratching your skin, hunger corroding him from within.

Instinctively, you turned to the side, seeking something to help you escape. Instead, you saw your lawyer’s lifeless, bloodshot eyes staring back, ones that had met yours with empathy so many times, reassuring you that everything would be okay. His neck twisted at a grotesque angle, lips slack in a silent scream.

“I’ll hunt you down forever, love,” John whispered, his voice carrying all the rage and obsession you overlooked for years.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, your breathing erratic, heart thundering. He pulled back, holding your gaze with a look that seared into your soul, his mouth twisting into a cruel smile.

“Doesn’t matter what you think,” he murmured, voice dangerously soft. “I will always be the love of your life.”

[whenlifeisscaryanddepressing]

A message to my American brothers and sisters whose candidate lost this election:

Firstly, I am neither American nor did I vote for your election so do take what I say with a grain of salt.

I’m writing to you guys because I know how you feel. I’ve been there.

During the 2020 Presidential election of the Philippines, I too supported a movement. Not a candidate—a movement. A female presidential candidate who raised hope, became a champion for marginalized communities whose only goal was to create opportunities to shift my country away from the vitriol that came from a previous president who strong armed my country into a bloody war on drugs that saw the death of thousands of poor people.

And like you, I lost.

With the spread of misinformation and lies, my country elected the son of a dictator who proved himself to be the ineffective, incompetent and dishonest leader we all secretly hoped he wouldn’t be.

Our hopes dimmed.

Tears were shed.

Resentment flowered in us like a storm.

It was difficult to swallow the results of an election that had so much at stake. You see, like your President-elect, our current President spent millions of pesos contesting a fair election that saw him losing out to the vice presidential position during the previous election.

Through bullying and intimidation, he sought to undermine a fair election that took him out of power.

And like your current President-elect, he still managed to win at the end.

It would have been easier to accept the results had it not been for the mocking of 31 million Filipinos who voted our current president into office.

We all heard them tell us, “You’re crying over an election? You need better things to worry about.”

I want you to know that it’s okay to cry.

Your frustrations and disappointment are valid.

It is rare to find a candidate you’re able to place so much hope in and to have that hope dashed away is a bitter pill that is difficult to swallow.

I know, you’re probably tired of hearing it.

“Turn the other cheek.”

“Accept it and move on.”

“It is what it is.”

“There’s nothing more to do.”

It’s okay. I’m tired of it too.

I know you’re probably scared and angry and so, so, so tired. Two years after our election and I am still all of these things.

I still think about the what if, the what could have beens. I think a lot about how better off we would have been if the right person won.

I want you to know that it’s okay. It’s okay to mourn those things.

You did your part. You voted and you campaigned and you fought hard. Sometimes, we just lose.

If there’s any advice I can impart, it’s that I hope you take your frustration, your sadness, you exhaustion, your anger, and turn it into righteous fury.

Take that fury and do something with it.

Because the movement cannot stop here. The moment we stop fighting, they win.

To lose hope means victory for the other side.

I get it. It’s easier to get mad at the people who voted for him. It’s even easier to spew the same vitriolic hate towards them when they start complaining about how things don’t change and how your country is worse off but theirs is the vote that put a wannabe-dictator in power.

Don’t do it.

Because that divide is precisely why they keep winning. It’s the same divide they sowed into my country and we are still struggling to fight that division everyday.

Losing this election is a step backwards but losing hope would be another step back.

Even to this day, my presidential candidate continues to inspire hope for change in my country.

I know yours will too.

It’s not the end.

I need you to remember to breathe.

Breathe in the hope you desperately fought for;

breathe through the hurt of the loss;

and breathe out the fear they so badly want you to feel.

The road is long and it’s scary.

But there’s about 50 or so million other people on that road with you. You might not be the majority but even David was small when he killed Goliath.

Cause if you voted for Kamala Harris, you already know you have the courage and righteous fury to fight for change and you cannot give up now that you’re so close.

You lost the battle but it’s not the end of the war.

So tonight, grieve. Cry. Hug your friends and family who are right there with you. Be sad and mourn the loss of what could have been.

Because tomorrow, when you wake, you will continue fighting for change.

Because no one else will.

[hannahbarberra162]

Under the Microscope (Yandere Sabo x Reader) Part 8

on Ao3 18+ MDNI

All the other chapters

This particular chapter is fluffy. I promise Sabo's coming back to the island soon. And that he's just as focused as he was before :)

Remember I don’t know anything about science! If you do, just pretend you don’t either!

Your POV

“Make a Logia fruit? Um, that’s kind of the opposite of what I’ve been working on,” you explained, wiggling your toes in your wet socks. Your butt, feet, and sleeves were wet from the sea water lapping gently at you as you sat on the beach. The temperature was dropping steadily and you felt the chill of the night starting to bother you as you splashed. “I’ve been trying to reverse engineer the fruits and find a way to nullify their powers. I was thinking that maybe, um, Sabo…or someone..could um..I’m not sure really. But I can’t - those fruits shouldn’t exist and it’s all my - all my f-fault…S-Sabo tried to tell um tell me -” Your heart started racing again, beating faster and faster as your thoughts returned to the collateral damage you’d caused.

You felt Ace’s hand on the back of your neck. He was probably trying to bring you comfort but right now it felt more like the weight of a guillotine. You shook him off, wanting to wallow in the feelings you deserved in spades. You hugged your knees and rested your head on top as you ran your hands along the parts of your pant legs that were still dry. You realized your hands were stinging from salt water that had entered the open wounds left from biting your fingers.

“I caused a lot of pain and suffering, too. I get it,” Ace said, stretching out his legs. You hummed, you couldn’t imagine any one person had unintentionally brought so much devastation to the world as you had.

“Did you watch Marineford? The Paramount Wars?” Ace asked while observing the sunset. 

You took a deep breath, held it in for a moment, then exhaled. “Um, no, Sabo already asked. I was supposed to watch it live but I was too busy and then I never got caught up. I had just started getting assignments from the higher ups at that time and -”

“That was me. I caused all those Marines to die, my friends to die. Brought my brother into my mess, almost killed him too. Even killed my own father.” Ace said with no emotion in his voice.

“You - you didn’t kill your father. Are you playing with me? I’m sorry, it’s hard for me to tell sometimes,” you said, wiping your running nose on your sleeve. You hoped he was joking but the stiffness of his shoulders belied his calm tone.

“No. I’m Portgas D. Ace, Gol D. Roger’s son. I was sentenced to execution but Luffy came to save me. Whitebeard and the crew too.” You tried to take in all the information Ace was telling you but it had your head swimming. 

“Is Luffy your other brother? The one in the picture with you and Sabo?” you asked an obvious question to avoid the awkwardness of his statement. Helping others with their emotions was never your strong suit.

“Yeah. Strawhat Luffy. Me n’ him n’ Sabo aren’t related by blood. Roger was my biological father but Whitebeard was my dad. Died trying to save me. Buncha my crew siblings died too. Good men.”

“Oh.” You wanted to support him like he’d supported you but you were afraid to say the wrong thing in case he started crying or got angry. “That explains a lot of your lineage factors,” you added quietly. “If your dad was Gol D. Roger, it makes sense you’d have Conqueror’s Haki.”

“Didn’t help me much,” Ace lamented. “Luffy even got me free and all I did was waste the opportunity by taking bait from Akainu. Fucker tried to kill Luffy and punched me through the chest. The only reason I was revived is Law brought me to his sub.”

You blinked rapidly. “Law? Trafalgar Law? Dr. Trafalgar D. Water Law?” Ace grunted.

“Yeah, Trafalgar Law. How come you know him but not me’r Luffy? I’m more famous than him,” Ace said in a half hearted joke. 

“Oh, I’m familiar with Dr. Trafalgar from his articles, not his piracy. He’s brilliant, his articles are always so intriguing. I pay for a subscription out of my own pocket to the journals that publish him, actually. His last article was about heart replacement complications, I wonder if that was from you,” you mused. You cringed as you realized that was not an appropriate statement to make, considering it was likely Ace’s heart he detailed in the article.  

“Probably. He said it was difficult, but I didn’t ask about the details,” Ace said unbothered.

“How did he save your life?” You were curious about the intricacies of Dr. Trafalgar’s devil fruit power and how he used it in conjunction with his medical knowledge and skills. You’d hoped to be invited to a Warlord meeting and catch a glimpse of him but it had never happened.

“I dunno, I was dead for that part,” Ace stated, flicking his long hair over his shoulder.

“Right,” you said, wishing you could bury your head in the sand much like your toes were. If Sabo were here he’d know what to say, you thought. Unlike your own awkward nature, Sabo was suave and charming and would know how to soothe his brother. 

“Are you still healing? Is that why you still have all those bandages?” you asked. Ace raised his eyebrows and looked down at his own chest.

“Oh, no. I’m healed, there’s just a huge scar I don’t like seeing and the yukata doesn’t cover it.” he explained.

“Why don’t you wear a shirt then?” Ace frowned like you’d asked him to eat sand off the beach.

“Nah, not my style. Besides, all the shirts here are Sabo’s and uh…they’re a little too frilly for me,” Ace said. Shirts weren’t his style? What on earth did that even mean? And why didn’t Sabo bring him any? Maybe Sabo was keeping Ace on the island too, not letting him leave. You decided to gently press for information while Ace was in a sharing mood.

“So how long has Sabo kept you on the island?” you asked, hoping Ace would reveal some negative feelings towards Sabo. If Ace wanted off the island, maybe the two of you could work together and figure something out.

“Hm? He doesn’t keep me here. Actually, he’s been trying to get me to leave for a while. Wants me to “reintegrate back into society.” Ace said, using air quotes and mimicking Sabo’s voice, your hopes of escaping dashed. Still, you stifled a laugh at Ace’s impression, trying to keep your composure for the serious conversation. Ace gave you a small smile. “It’s OK, you can’t say anything to me I haven’t said to myself already.” The sun had set, leaving the two of you in the chill of the dusk. “C’mon, it’s cold and I’m sure the water’s making you feel shitty. Let’s go back to the house, get changed. If you get sick, Sabo’s gonna yell at me even more than he’s already gonna.” 

Ace stood up and offered you a hand, pulling you to your feet as well. The two of you walked in companionable silence for a minute before he spoke again.

‘But just hypothetically speaking, could you make a Logia fruit? From a scientific standpoint?” Ace asked curiously.

Ace’s POV

Ace knew you fell for his bait when you slowed your stroll and began chewing your lip. He could practically see the cogs turning in your head as you thought through the possibilities, your wet socks squelching on the path to the house.

“Well….the other fruits were made in advanced scientific labs. I don’t have the equipment needed to engineer something like that…” you trailed off.

“No, no. Not to actually make it here. But could you make an artificial Logia fruit?” 

“I could use the- well, it depends which one,” you said, starting to gesticulate. “The fruit I’d have the most success in creating would be the Mera Mera that you and Sabo ate. You still have the lineage factor which provides a large part of the genetic material needed to make an artificial fruit. Oh, and a strand or two of Sabo’s hair, that’s definitely here. Oh, and maybe part of my own lineage factor? Even though mine is paramecia it might help with some of the active components… And I could probably use any fruit, but for a Logia I would probably want something with a similar quality, maybe some kind of spicy - no that wouldn’t really make a difference, I think Vegapunk used apples? But there aren’t any here so maybe from a common fr- no, no…” you were off in thought, talking to yourself about how the fruit could be made. Reaching the deck of the house, you stopped before you went up the stairs. You stared off in the distance in silence, giving Ace pause.

“Hey, are you alright in there? Didn’t mean to start anything, I was -”

“The flame flower,” you stated. 

“Right.” Ace nodded knowingly, but had no idea what you were referring to.

“I could use the flame flower as the base and the genetic material provided by your and Sabo’s lineage factor. That’s how I could make it work,” you said, nodding slowly. Ace’s mouth dropped open as he watched you staring off into the darkness, Sabo hadn’t exaggerated. Your genius was on par with Vegapunk and other top scientists of the world. You looked at Ace and tilted your head. “But again, I can’t actually do anything without a lab. And a lot of money. So, hypothetically probably. In reality, no.” You nodded to yourself and entered the house, going up the stairs to change your clothes. Ace trailed behind you, pulling on your sleeve to get your attention.

“But can’t you like….” Ace trailed off, using his fingers to pantomime pulling marionette strings.

“What? I don’t follow,” you replied, looking worn out. He should really leave you alone and let you sleep but Ace couldn’t drop the idea, not after you said it was possible.

“I’m not - I don't know how to say it, but like, can’t you like change stuff? Like move the molecules around or cells or whatever?” You blinked rapidly while frowning. 

“Say more,” you commanded, your brow furrowed. You looked like how he’d found you in Sabo’s office, completely focused on one thought. The intensity of your stare almost rivaled Luffy’s when he was serious. 

“Like, um, y’know, like change stuff when you magnify it. Like move the stuff around to make other things? Aren’t molecules the building blocks of life? So move the blocks around?” Ace finished with something Sabo had taught him, trying to get his idea across to you. He wasn’t a scientist but he knew devil fruits could be awakened, he’d tried to do it on his own but ran out of time before his death. Maybe this could be the key to your own fruit awakening and to him getting his powers back.

You stopped walking and stared past him, blinking rapidly. Ace waved his hand in front of your face after a moment. You were on the stairs, he didn’t want you to fall and get hurt when you finally surfaced again. You moved your head away from his hand but didn’t resume walking. Sighing, Ace picked you up, disrupting your thought process.

“H-hey! Put me down! I’m not a child,” you protested while making no movement to get out of his arms. 

“Go do your big thinking after you change your clothes. Like you said, none of this is possible here and if you get hypothermia Sabo’s gonna kill me for real this time,” Ace joked. Depositing you in Sabo’s room, you smiled at Ace.

“Thanks Ace. Good night,” you said, holding the door to shut it.

“Good night, kid,” Ace replied, smiling. He turned and walked away to his own room, getting inside before he heard you yell. 

“I’m not a kid! I think I’m older than you!” Ace chuckled lightly, reaching to unwind his bandages. 

Your POV

You were exhausted from the panic attack and the subsequent heart to heart with Ace. But you couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said to you. You were turning the thoughts over and over in your mind, thinking about artificial devil fruits and the implications of changing the molecular structure during magnification. Like you’d told Sabo, you could get to the sub-atomic level but it took a lot of concentration and effort. You closed your eyes to rest but you were fixated on Ace’s idea. You tossed and turned for what felt like hours until your stomach rumbled. Oh yeah, you remembered, you hadn’t eaten since earlier that day. It was going to be a long night for you anyway so you might as well eat some food while you thought through the creation of artificial Logia devil fruits.

Heading down to the darkened kitchen, you took out a bowl and some rice. You’d made jambalaya a few days prior so now you’d give your stir-fried rice a shot. There still wasn’t any fish in the house but it would taste ok without it. You were able to make the dish on autopilot, washing the rice and vegetables while thinking about molecular changes. As you thought, you noticed the droplets of water that had landed near the colander. 

You could probably… try what Ace suggested. Changing h2o to h2o2 wouldn’t cause a huge reaction or anything, it would just be hydrogen peroxide. And only one molecule… If you changed the wrong elements or made too many molecules unstable, you could cause a huge chain reaction but that would take so many molecules and this was just one…this was just water…After starting the rice and starting the vegetables sauteing, you magnified a water droplet on the table. Getting down to the molecular level took a few moments but shortly there were two h2o molecules in front of your eyes. Careful not to erase the image, you used your thumb and forefinger to try and pluck one of the oxygens from a molecule and put it into the other. Picking it up felt like static electricity and your heart was racing as you tried to move the oxygen from its current molecule. It almost felt sticky, like it didn’t want to move, but it didn’t take much effort to disrupt its bonds.

You held your breath as you placed it within the bonds of the other molecule. If it didn’t work, at least you tried. You let go.

It worked. 

You were now looking at a molecule of hydrogen peroxide and an hydroperoxyl radical left over. “Holy fuck,” you said softly, looking at the newly formed molecule. You rotated it under your magnification and it looked identical to every other hydrogen peroxide molecule you’d ever seen. The implications were….

“Boo,” a voice said from behind you.

You shrieked like a banshee, jumping in fright. Ace laughed loudly and you swatted him with the spatula you were holding while cursing at him.

“Ace!! What the fuck?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Why would you do that?!”

“Hey! Ow. Stop hitting me! Ow, that hurts! It was just a joke!” You huffed but you weren’t really mad as Ace dodged your well aimed spatula strikes.

“Why are you awake?” you asked, looking at the clock. It was the middle of the night, surely he had been sleeping like you should have been.

“Smelled good food cooking and I’m hungry,” he shrugged. You noticed he was wearing his yukata but no bandages underneath. The scarred skin on his chest was a deep red and in a circular pattern, blazing out from where his heart was. It was large and raised and had likely taken months to heal. You knew you were staring but the scar was so large and harrowing, you couldn’t stop looking at it.

“Stop undressing me with your eyes. You’re not my type,” Ace teased, sitting at the bar to wait for the food to be done. 

“Oh? And who is?” you asked, genuinely curious. You weren’t offended. Besides Sabo, you’d never been anyone’s type. And even Sabo was just pretending.

“Men,” Ace said offhandedly. Ah. Well, that made things between you a little easier since you didn’t have to worry about any sexual tension between the two of you. 

“Nice,” you replied, stirring the dish on the stove.

“Whatcha cookin’?” Ace asked, standing on the rungs of the bar stool to look over the counter and into the frying pan.

“Stir-fried rice. It’s one of the three dishes I can make, you’ve had the other two. Usually I put seafood in there too but we don’t have any,” you said, giving Ace a pointed look. 

“Well, there is a boat on the island,” Ace began, scratching his cheek. Your interest was immediately piqued - maybe you could use it to escape at some point. “But it’s my old one, Striker. It’s powered by fire and since I don’t have my devil fruit anymore, I can’t use it. There’s a sail but that’s not to propel it, just to direct it.”

You sighed, another plan to escape the island foiled. You thought in silence for a few moments, adding in the rice to the dish.

“What were ya lookin’ at?” Ace asked, watching you cook. You bit your lip, unsure if you should tell Ace about your experiment. You couldn’t think of a reason that the information could be used against you, and it was his idea anyway.

“Um. Well, it’s um. Not that big of a deal and I didn’t think it would work but um. I did kind of do what you said and, ah, changed the structure of a molecule - only one! Just one, it’s fine, don’t worry. And um it. It did work. I changed it by hand, so to speak. So I - that’s what I was looking at.” Ace waited patiently while you stumbled over your words.

“That’s amazing! So what does that mean? Does that mean you can make the devil fruit? The Mera Mera?” He exclaimed, his face breaking into a huge smile and eyes alight. 

“Um, yes, I suppose hypothetically speaking, I could potentially make a Mera Mera artificial fruit. It would be a huge undertaking but again, hypothetically, I could do it. Um, there’s enough genetic and lineage factor material here and I probably could if I worked on it enough but I don’t think -”

“This is wonderful! Oh my god I can’t wait, I’m gonna blow up Sabo when he comes back,” Ace exclaimed. He was off the chair and on his feet, pacing in front of the kitchen. “He’ll be fine, it can’t hurt him. Ooh, maybe we can finally fight each other! That little fucker has been using my moves, I know it. Gonna teach him who’s the real boss, ha! And I can finally make my way back to Wano! Maybe see Luff? I know his bounty is way higher -”

“Ace -”

“But before all that I need to find Marco and the crew. And Deuce, oh my god, Deuce. I miss that man so much, gonna kiss him first thing, did you know he was my first mate? I wonder -”

“Ace!”

“He might be doing better off without me, he wasn’t really a pirate, more of an intellectual type. You’d like him a lot. But I also need to go thank Traflagar and hug Bepo, there’s so much to do -”

“ACE!” 

Ace finally stopped pacing and chattering and looked at you. “Ace, I said I might be able to do it. I just made one molecule , do you know how much work it would take to engineer something like that?” Ace shrugged and waved off your concern, continuing to pace behind the counter.

“So what? You’re a genius, you’ll figure it out. Besides, it’s not like you have anything else to work on right now,” he said, unbothered by your hesitation.

“No,” you stated, crossing your arms. Ace turned on his heel to face you immediately.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” he asked worriedly, racing to the counter. 

“No. I’ve been working on ways to undo the damage my research has caused, not increase the damage. It’s unethical to bring yet another artificial devil fruit into the world, no matter who it goes to.” 

Ace held you in his gaze for a moment, staring into your eyes. Even though he wasn’t related by blood to Sabo some of their mannerisms were eerily similar. He plopped back down on the bar stool with a sigh and ran his hand through his tangled black hair. “You can’t undo what you’ve done. Trust me, I’m the first one to wish things were different, that I could change what I did. But it’s not possible. Doflamingo already made the money, Kaido got the soldiers, Vegapunk made the Seralinas or whatever. You can’t undo it. What were you going to do? Make a new fruit for them to eat? It won’t work, what’s done is done.” Ace got up and walked to where you were turning off the heat on the stove and put his hands on your shoulders. You looked up into his freckled face.

“The only thing to do now is to help the good side win, help people like me ‘n Sabo. Y’know, fight fire with fire,” he said seriously. 

“I don’t know, Ace….I don’t know if that’s something I want to do,” you hesitated. Ace hummed. 

“It could be a one time thing, make the Mera Mera and be done with it,” Ace pleaded, shaking your shoulders lightly. 

“Ace, even if this works, you’ll still be you. You’ll be the same person, with or without the fruit. It’s not going to solve all your problems. You need to work on your emotional healing, not just your body. You can’t even show your chest most of the time,” you said quietly. Ace didn’t respond, looking away to avoid your eyes.

Ace took his hands off your shoulders and went over to the cabinet, pulling out two bowls. His face was impassive but his departed enthusiasm spoke volumes. You plated the food and set the bowls side by side on the counter, Ace bringing you a fork. You ate in silence for a few minutes, Ace mostly pushing the food around his plate. You thought about what he’d said about Striker and getting off the island. If Sabo found out you could manipulate matter, you didn’t think he’d ever let you go. Your only window of escaping closed once Sabo came back to the island. Steeling yourself against your better judgment, you faced Ace.

“I’ll do it. On one condition,” you said, looking at him. Ace’s cheeks were puffed out wide with food.

“Hwaf cuhdihun?” Ace asked, not bothering to chew or swallow.

“You have to take me off the island. Away from here,” you stated. You knew Sabo and Ace were brothers but maybe the desired reward would offset his loyalty to Sabo.

“Hmm,” Ace mumbled as he chewed. You watched him closely to see his reaction, this would make or break your escape from Sabo.

“Sure, why not?” Ace said, quirking his eyebrow with a small smile. 

“You’re sure? You know I mean you need to take me away from Sabo, right?”

“Yeah, I got it. I can get you off the island if the fruit works. It won’t help you,” Ace said, scooping the last of his food into his mouth. His careless attitude made you worry that you’d fallen into a trap you set yourself.

“What do you mean, it won’t help me?” you asked, frowning.

“Sabo’ll just chase you. And he’ll find you, no matter where I take you,” Ace shrugged, literally licking his bowl clean.  

You chewed on the skin next to your nail for a moment. “Are you sure? I mean, I’m not -”

“I’m sure. He’d follow you to the South Pole if he had to. So I’ll take you out, but you won’t get far. He really likes you.” Ace replied, patting his belly.

“He doesn’t, it’s all an act. He’s just using me for - well, for this. To have me finish Project Seraphim for the Revolutionary Army. I heard him tell Dragon,” you protested. Ace stared at you, eyes softening with an unknown emotion.

“Whatever you say,” Ace said lightly, getting up and plugging the sink to begin washing the dishes. You tasted blood as you bit too hard on your already chewed thumb.

Sabo’s POV

Sabo wasn’t sure exactly what set off his internal warning signal. He and Ace had been calling back and forth every few days over the weeks, exchanging information and pleasantries. Ace had been in an elated mood, which he chalked up to becoming better friends with Sunny. Sabo noted Ace hadn’t been wearing the bandages around his chest anymore which was an interesting development. According to Ace, you worked in the morning and took a short walk with Ace before lunch. After eating, you’d work again until the evening when you and Ace would eat dinner and go stargazing or hang out in the house. You’d spoken on the snail a few times, you sounded happy and refreshed. But Ace was up to something and had dragged Sunny into it, Sabo was sure of it. The end of his trip was approaching and Sabo was eager to sail back home and see Sunny. And Ace, of course.

Narrowing his eyes, Sabo wanted to catch Ace in whatever dumbass idea he’d concocted. Sabo was between meetings and ducked into an empty storage room to call. It was nearly lunch, not his normal time to connect with Ace. With luck, Sabo would be able to detect what was going on.

Puru puru puru puru puru puru

“Hey Babo, what’s up?” Ace said, using a childhood nickname Luffy had given him.

“My ‘Ace is doing something stupid’ alarm is going off. Are you doing something stupid?” Sabo asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Almost always. But right now I’m making lunch. Potato salad,” the Ace snail said.

“And where’s Sunny? What’s she up to?” Sunny was an incredibly poor liar, even worse than Ace. With only a little pressure, Sabo would get the truth out of her.

“She’s working in your office, wanna say hi?” Ace asked, the snail throwing a kitchen towel over its shoulder.

“Inna minute. How are you guys doing? How’s she feeling?” Sabo asked, trying to keep from projecting his worries into his voice.

“Good, good. She’s working right now, like always. Sleeping enough, I make sure of it. Eats food, drinks coffee and water ,” Ace said proudly. 

“Alright, put her on.”

“Gimme a sec,” Ace said, the sounds of boots on the wood floor coming through the receiver. Ace pounded on the door three times.

“Yo, Sunny! Wanna -”

“Fuck off Portgas, I’m busy!” you yelled through the door. Sabo’s gut twisted with the ease and familiarity in your voice you used for his brother. He’d been feeling jealous for a few days now even though the jealousy made him feel guilty. He had brought you to the island partially for just this reason - to befriend his brother. And now that the two of you were friendly he was seeing green. Sabo wished you were just as comfortable with him , telling him to fuck off or spending all your meals together voluntarily. Sabo tried to rein his feelings in but it was difficult when he saw that you’d given Ace a haircut, or you were wearing Ace’s old clothes, or saw how well rested you were looking. During the calls between the three of you, it was difficult to contain himself from making snarky comments. Sabo was homesick for you and Ace, his meetings felt endless and the two of you were up to something. He could feel it in his bones.

“Nah, it’s Sabo, c’mon.” Ace urged you. Sabo heard a huff and the door open.

“Fine, but you know the penalty for disturbing me when I’m working,” you said cheerfully as the snail changed its visage to your bright smile. Sabo had never made that smile appear before, he thought.

“Ow! Owww ! That hurts! Stop pinching!” Ace whined in the background as you laughed.

“No, you get five pinches for disrupting my flow. I was moving the mol- er -” you looked at Sabo, afraid you’d almost said something.

“Moving what?” Sabo asked brightly.

“Uh, nothing! Nothing, um just moving the, um, mol- um…mole. The mole,” you finished lamely. Sabo quirked an eyebrow. 

“The mole?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah, um the mole. It’s um, gotten into the office and um Ace and I have been trying to catch it and I um, oh lunch is ready! I have to go!” you stammered. The snail turned back to Ace, who was laughing into his palm.

“I know you’re up to something dumb and I’m gonna find out what it is. If Sunny gets in trouble because of you…” Sabo trailed off menacingly.

“Ok, love you, see you sooooon!” Ace chirped happily and hung up the snail.

The call ending quickly gave greater credence to Sabo’s theory that some Ace-derived foolishness was afoot. He sighed and leaned back against the nearest crate. He was leaving for the island in a few short days and it couldn’t come quickly enough. 

Your POV

You and Portgas D. Ace stared at the flower-turned-fruit held in the palm of your hand as you sat side by side on the beach. You’d experimented and developed it for the past few weeks almost constantly. You’d worked harder than you ever had in your life, racing to complete the project before Sabo returned in the next few days. True to his word, Ace had locked you out of Sabo’s office at 8 every night but that alone didn’t turn off your brain. For the first few weeks after your discovery, you stayed up late in the night in the darkness of your room, rearranging molecules and perfecting your craft. Ace had figured out you weren’t resting enough and started sleeping on the floor of Sabo’s room to get you to go to sleep. Eventually, you’d invited him into the bed because you were tired of seeing him toss and turn on the hard floor. You enjoyed having a warm body next to you but it wasn’t the same as Sabo’s heat and pleasant aroma.

You weren’t sure if you missed Sabo or not. Ace was fun, dynamic, engaging, and easy to talk to. He made you laugh, either intentionally or from his antics, and he had interesting insight to share. Ace was an endless talker, providing you with background noise to listen to while you walked together. He told you stories about Whitebeard, the Spade pirates, his brothers, anything he could think of. Ace enjoyed your company and would watch you work in Sabo’s office, sometimes falling asleep and snoring to your amusement. You thought you and Ace were friends and you’d miss him when you left the island.

But a little part of you missed Sabo, too. He treated you like you were worth the world, not just what you could make or produce for him. Ace claimed repeatedly that Sabo was romantically interested in you, which always made you flush. You found Sabo attractive and charming, unlike Ace who felt more like a sibling. He was smart and intelligent and enjoyed the same intellectual pursuits that you did. He had kidnapped you but through his actions you’d realized how drained you were from the Marines, subsisting on coffee and loneliness. You had been miserable, sick, and stuck, even if you didn’t see it yourself at the time.

“Hey, your hand’s shaking,” Ace noted, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“Haven’t seen that in a while,” Ace mused. You didn’t answer, too nervous about the outcome of your experiment. There was no way to test anything and make sure you’d gotten everything right. You used parts of your other research, Sabo’s hair, Ace’s saliva, and sheer willpower to craft the hideous looking fruit in front of you. It didn’t look like the Mera Mera no Mi, it looked like a sad black sea urchin covered in molten red spots. Your lips were bloody and Ace had bandaged all your fingertips after you bit them too much.

“This is a bad idea,” you said.

“Yeah,” Ace replied.

“It might not work. You might not get any power and you won’t be able to swim.”

“Yeah.”

“It might kill you.”

“Maybe.”

“Sabo will be mad.”

“Furious.”

“You gonna try it?” 

“Yeah,” Ace said, taking the fruit from your sweaty palm. You had the urge to reach out to take the fruit and fling it into the sea, to let life stay the way it was. But Ace’s brow was furrowed and his jaw set, you knew he wasn’t going to hesitate. You held your breath and covered your eyes with your hands as Ace bit into the fruit, scowling as he chewed.

“You got the taste right. Not something you forget,” he joked, trying to lighten your mood. You took a little peek and he hadn’t exploded or projectile vomited. That was a good sign.

“Did it - did it work?” you whispered. Ace ate the fruit in a few bites, one of the advantages to his eating habits, you supposed. He wiped his hands on his yukata and stood up.

“One way to find out,” he grinned, pointing his index and ring finger like the barrel of a gun.

Fire bullets shot out of his hand rapidly, making you scuttle backwards on the beach. He whooped loudly and beat his chest with his fists, screaming at the top of his lungs. Turning and running full force at you, you squealed as he picked you up under your arms and spun you around in circles. His arms were too warm, almost burning you as he laughed wildly and spun.

“Ace! Ace! Too hot!” you yelled into his ear, trying to get him to put you down.

“Ah! Sorry, kinda forgot about that,” Ace said, grinning from ear to ear. He set you down only to give you a huge kiss on your cheek. You couldn’t help but share in his happiness and laughed along with him. He looked so much younger, his face radiating pure joy as he raised his arm to continue testing his strength.

“Hiken!” he yelled, his arm outstretched. A column of flame burst forth from his fist, the raw destructive power it posed sending a shiver down your spine. He turned and winked at you, finger still made of flame. 

“And that’s why they call me Fire Fist Ace.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hii, I love your fics, especially the Moon Knight ones, sometimes I'm so giddy that I need to take a step back and remember myself that they aren't real.

May I request headcanons about the Moon Boys overhearing reader talking to their pet (probably a kitten) about how much they love the boys, and their quirks and their little differences and just going on and on about how perfect they are?

I understand if not, I will love whatever you post regardless!

Oh my gosh, this is so adorable! I hope I did it justice!

Just Happy

Jake Lockley x gn!Reader • Rating: PG pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: Jack eavesdrops.

Warnings: Fluff, Jake being emotional, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 482

You stroke behind Salem’s ears, the small kitten’s eyes are closed, his head pressed as close as he can to your hand. 

“You like that, hmm?” You smile, “Who’s my favourite little guy?” 

Salem purrs loudly. 

Jake smiles from his position in the doorway, his hair still damp from the shower. Both Marc and Steven were still asleep, Steven hadn’t come to bed until well into the early morning and now that things in their life were calmer Marc was using the opportunity to catch up on fifteen years of rushed power naps. 

“Who is it, hmm?” You lean down and kiss the top of Salem’s head three times. 

Jake can’t help himself, he slowly takes out his phone from his pocket, not wanting to alert you to his presence. He finds the perfect angle and then starts filming, he’d have to send this to the group chat Steven had created. Affectionately called ‘The Body 💪📖🚗⚾’

“It’s yoooooooou!” You say sing-song to Salem and grin, “Well you’re my favourite little cat guy. I think Steven, Marc, and Jake might complain if they’re not my favourites too. Though I don’t think they’d mind being second best to you.” 

At the sound of Steven, Marc, and Jake’s names Salem perks up his ears and meows softly. 

“Yeah! You love them too, don’t you? They are the best, we love them so much. Because they’re so kind and great. And they give you the best pets, don’t they? Well, second best, I’m best obviously.” 

Jake covers his mouth with his hand, trying not to laugh. He’s smiling so hard it’s hurting his cheeks, his chest so light it’s almost painful. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, his throat thick. He tries to force the emotion down, but it just builds and builds. 

“I know part of the reason you’re so excited when you hear their names is you think you’re gonna get extra treats, I know they give you more than they should.” You smile. “Can I tell you a secret?” You lean a little closer and Salem looks up at you with large eyes. “I love them so much, literally so much. Every day my heart gets a little bigger with how much I love them. Opposite Grinch situation going on in here.” You tap your chest. 

“Amor,” Jake’s voice makes you jump, and you turn from your position on the floor just in time for him to wrap his arms around you in a bear hug. 

You let out a little oof of air and then giggle, “Were you spying on me?” 

“Yes.” He mutters into your neck, his voice is thick and wavering. 

“Hey, you okay?” You stroke his back and try to move to see his face. But he just snuggles deeper into your chest and squeezes you tighter.

“I’m fine.” 

“You sure?” 

“Just happy, my love. Just happy.” 

Thank you for reading!

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@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes ho

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[benispunk]

Who's that girl?

Chapter 4: Before We Speak

Logan always has to be the strong figure, even when everything wants to fall apart.

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W, mentions of dark backgrounds.

A/N: hello lovelies!! fourth chapter is up whoop whoop🎉. this one is entirely focused on Logan because why not? this is a day in our little honey badger's life and I'm not sorry for anything. it could have been way worse. thanks for all the support on this series!! enjoy this part <3

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist / Previous Part

Beep Beep Beep Be—

Sometimes Logan wondered how he still hadn’t destroyed that damn alarm clock. He woke up slowly, his body heavy from the comfort of sleep. Finally glancing at his worst enemy of his every morning, he read: 5:30 AM. Time to start the day.

He got up and opened the blinds, though the sun wasn’t up yet, and except for some other people in other buildings, nobody was up yet either. 

After a quick shower and pulling on some shirt and jeans, Logan grabbed his keys and backpack, trying not to make too much noise for his roommates that were probably still sleeping deeply.

You’ll sleep later, Logan.

As he stepped outside of the building, the cool morning air hit his face, waking him up fully.

Logan was the one in charge of opening the center and he preferred going there way earlier than everyone else just to get a moment of peace and calm before the chaos started. He checked every room and classes, making sure everything was ready for the day and once this was done, he sat down and served himself one well-deserved cup of (disgusting) coffee.

The center was a large, well-worn building. It wasn't much to look at from the outside—just a faded brick structure with narrow windows—but inside, it was full of life. Colorful posters lined the walls, some painted by the kids themselves, and inspirational quotes were scattered around, the kind that Logan never really cared for but knew meant something to someone.

The lounge area where he sat was small but cozy, with mismatched chairs and a sagging couch that had seen better days. A few shelves were filled with books and board games, and the corner had a coffee station that barely worked. Yet, this was his place— a refuge in the chaos.

Beyond the lounge, the rest of the center sprawled out: classrooms where kids of all ages learned in their own ways, sensory rooms with soft lights and calming music, a large gym where activities were held, and a garden out back where they often took the kids for fresh air. It was more than just a special school; it was a sanctuary for those who needed it.

As Logan scanned the room, his thoughts drifted. He wasn’t one to reflect much, but opening the center every day before anyone else arrived had become his ritual, a moment to prepare for the storm of the day ahead. Today would be like any other— he’d make sure the supplies were ready, the classrooms set, and his mind focused.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the hum of the automatic doors opening.

“Good morning, Logan.”

Logan’s daydream was interrupted by the familiar voice of Charles. The older man entered the lounge in his wheelchair, his presence as steady as ever. Charles had been the head of the center for as long as Logan could remember.

Logan nodded, setting down his coffee. “Morning, Charles.”

Charles wheeled himself closer, pausing just in front of Logan. “Early, as always. You know, you don’t have to get here before the sun’s up every day.”

Logan grunted in response, though there was a faint smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Old habits die hard.”

Charles chuckled. “Well, I appreciate it. Keeps the place running smoothly.” He paused, glancing around the lounge, his expression softening. “How’s everything looking for today?”

Logan leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. “Classes are prepped, gym’s ready. Couple new kids starting this week, so I’ll be keeping an eye on them. Should be a normal day.”

Charles nodded thoughtfully, though there was something in his eyes that made Logan pause. “What?” Logan asked.

“Just thinking,” Charles said, his voice dropping a bit. “It’s a shame, isn’t it? All this work, and now…” He trailed off, and Logan knew exactly what he meant. The center was struggling. Funding cuts, low enrollment— there had been rumors for months now that they might not last much longer. It wasn’t the first time Charles had hinted at it, but hearing it out loud still hit Logan in the gut every time.

“We’ll figure it out,” Logan said, though even he wasn’t sure how much he believed it.

Charles nodded again, but there was a heaviness to the gesture. “I hope you’re right, Logan. For their sake.” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the classrooms, where the kids would soon arrive, full of energy and life.

Logan didn’t respond. He wasn’t one for long conversations, especially not ones that reminded him of things he couldn’t fix. Instead, he stood up and grabbed his coffee, raising it towards Charles in a silent gesture. “I’ll be in the gym.”

Charles watched him go, his expression unreadable.

The gym was Logan’s favorite part of the center. High ceilings, wide-open spaces, and the kind of place where he could let the kids run wild. He liked the controlled chaos of it all—kids bouncing off the walls, their laughter echoing, and the satisfaction of seeing them engage in a world that often felt too overwhelming for them. Here, they were free. Here, they were just kids.

As he stepped inside, Logan could already hear the hum of the day beginning. Soon the first teachers would trickle in. He checked the schedule on the clipboard hanging by the door, making mental notes of the day’s activities. But even as he planned, his thoughts lingered on Charles' words.

What if the center shut down? What would happen to the kids? What would he do?

He shoved the thought away for now, focusing on the present. There were kids to be taken care of today, and that's what mattered.

A sharp sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway, pulling Logan's attention to the door. The first wave of staff was arriving.

The first few kids arrived not long after them. Logan could hear their familiar voices echoing down the hallway, some excited, some grumpy from early wake-ups, but all of them ready to start their day. As they trickled in, Logan stood by the entrance to greet them.

"Morning, Bobby," Logan said as a boy with dark, tousled hair bounded through the door, his backpack almost as big as he was.

"Morning, Mr. Howlett!" Bobby called back with a wide grin, not slowing down as he headed straight for the gym.

Next was Kitty, one of the quieter students, who gave him a shy wave as she walked in, hugging her notebook to her chest.

"Morning, Kitty," Logan said softly, offering her a small smile. She nodded without a word, as always, but Logan could see the relief in her eyes. She always felt safe here.

The rest of the group trickled in—about a dozen kids in all, each with their own unique personalities and quirks. Logan knew them well, better than most. He could read their moods just by the way they walked in, and today seemed to be a good day. No tantrums, no meltdowns. Yet.

Once everyone was inside, Logan led them to the first class of the day. History wasn’t always the easiest subject to teach, but Logan had a way of making it work. He kept things simple, focusing on the stories behind the facts— because that’s what kids understood best, the stories.

As they settled into their seats, Logan stood at the front of the small classroom, a whiteboard behind him and a map of the world pinned to the wall.

"Alright, who remembers what we talked about last week?" Logan asked, his deep voice quiet but commanding enough to capture the attention of the room.

A few hands shot up— Bobby’s was the first, as always.

Logan nodded to him. "Go ahead, Bobby."

"We talked about Ancient Egypt! You said they had these huge tombs for their kings and queens, and they put all their treasures inside."

"That’s right," Logan said, crossing his arms and leaning against his desk. "The pyramids. But they didn’t just put treasures inside. What else?"

Kitty, who was usually too shy to speak up, raised her hand cautiously. Logan gave her an encouraging nod.

"Um, they put their pets inside too?" she said softly.

"Exactly. Sometimes pets, sometimes even servants." Logan smiled at her, watching her shoulders relax slightly. "Why do you think they did that?"

Bobby’s hand shot up again, but Logan pointed to a girl in the back who rarely spoke— Laura. The girl was staring at the map, lost in thought, but when Logan called her name, she blinked and looked around.

"Uh… because they thought they’d need them in the afterlife?" Laura said hesitantly.

"Right again," Logan replied. "They believed the afterlife was just another version of this life, so they wanted to bring everything with them that they’d need. It’s like packing for a trip, but instead of clothes, you’re bringing your pets and gold." He gave a small smile, which earned a few giggles from the class.

Logan continued the lesson, writing down some words on the board and telling stories of ancient rulers and their grand tombs. He kept the pace slow, knowing some of the kids needed extra time to process, and he made sure to check in with everyone throughout the lesson, gauging their engagement.

As the lesson wrapped up, the bell rang for the morning break, and the kids shuffled out of the classroom, excited to stretch their legs. Logan watched them go, making a mental note of who seemed engaged and who might need extra help later.

He was about to head out for a quick break himself when he noticed someone lingering by the door— Laura, the girl from earlier. She stood there, clutching the straps of her backpack, staring at the floor.

She had joined the center about a year ago, a girl with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue, quick to push people away before they could get too close. Her file said she’d been in and out of foster homes, and she had a history of acting out, of disappearing for days at a time. But Logan saw through it. She wasn’t just acting out for the sake of rebellion. It was survival for her. Trust didn’t come easy.

Each of these kids had been through so much stuff, things they didn’t deserve, things they weren’t even supposed to know at their age, and yet here they were, because the regular system wouldn’t take the risk of taking them in. That’s why this center existed, to help those kids and teenagers society had already rejected. 

They were only children. It broke his heart every single day.

Laura was always on edge, always watching. Logan noticed the way she sized people up, the way her eyes darted around the room like she was waiting for something bad to happen.

When she first started at the center, they had clashed. Logan’s patience and calm demeanor only seemed to irritate her more. She didn’t talk unless she had to, and even then, it was usually a one-word answer.

Today, Laura had been quiet. Too quiet.

Logan had learned to read her tells, and something was off.

As the bell rang for the break, she didn’t move. The other kids bolted out of the classroom like they always did, but Laura stayed behind, her eyes still fixed on the window, her jaw clenched.

Logan leaned against his desk, waiting until the room was empty before speaking. "You’re gonna miss your break if you sit there all day."

She didn’t respond. Typical Laura.

Logan watched her for a moment before crossing the room and sitting down in the chair next to her, his body turned toward her but giving her space.

"You alright, kid?" he asked, his voice low and calm, like he was talking to a wild animal he didn’t want to spook.

Laura’s gaze didn’t shift, but her grip on the edge of her chair tightened.

"I know you," she muttered after a long silence, her voice rough. "You’re just waiting for me to screw up again."

Logan sighed softly, shaking his head. "Not here to wait for you to screw up. I’m here to help you."

Laura scoffed. "Yeah, right."

Logan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You think I’m doing this for fun? Waking up at 5:30 every morning to come here because I got nothing better to do?"

She finally turned her head to look at him, her eyes narrowing like she was trying to figure out his angle.

"You don’t get it," she said, her voice harsh. "You don’t know what it’s like."

Logan met her gaze, unflinching. "Maybe I don’t know your exact story, but I’ve seen enough, and I know enough to get the picture. And I know you’re not alone, even if it feels like it."

Her eyes flickered for a second, something passing over her face before the hardened mask came back. She looked away, her jaw tightening again, and for a moment, Logan thought the conversation was over. But then she spoke again, quieter this time.

"I don’t wanna be here anymore," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Logan frowned. "What do you mean?"

Laura’s shoulders tensed, and she gripped the chair so hard her knuckles went white. "This place. This... stupid center. I don’t belong here. I can’t—" She cut herself off, shaking her head in frustration, as if the words were too much to get out.

Logan let out a slow breath. He’d seen this before— the tipping point where a kid was ready to run, because staying still felt too risky.

"You don’t have to do this alone," Logan said gently. "If it feels like too much, we can work on that. Together. But you gotta tell me what's really going on, Laura. Or Professor Xavier.  Anybody, really.»

For the first time, Laura’s mask cracked. Her eyes filled with frustration, but behind it, Logan could see the fear. The vulnerability she never let anyone see.

"I don’t belong anywhere," she muttered, her voice shaking. "No one gives a damn. Everyone leaves."

Logan stayed silent for a beat, letting her words sink into the space between them.

"That’s not true," Logan said softly. "You’re here. You’re fighting. You show up every day, even when it’s hard. That says a lot about you, more than you think."

Laura’s eyes flickered toward him, suspicious, but something about his tone made her stay.

"You know what I think?" Logan continued. "I think you’re stronger than you think. And if you want to talk, if you want to work through this... We’re all here. You don’t have to run."

Laura didn’t respond right away, but her shoulders slumped just a bit. The tension that had been coiling inside her all day seemed to ease, if only slightly.

"I don’t know if I can," she muttered.

Logan nodded, standing up slowly and giving her space. "You don’t have to decide today. Just know that the door’s open whenever you’re ready."

He started walking toward the door, expecting her to stay where she was, but then he heard her voice again, small and uncertain.

"Logan?" she asked, and for the first time, she used his name instead of calling him "Mr. Howlett."

"My name is Logan but for some legal reason you have to call me Mr.Howlett," he would say on the first day of school every year.

He turned around, his brows raised.

"Thanks," she said quietly, her gaze dropping back to her hands.

Logan nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Anytime, kid."

As he left the room, he felt a familiar heaviness settle in his chest, one that always came after a conversation like that. The weight of seeing a kid like Laura— someone who was so close to falling through the cracks, struggling to keep her head above water.

But for now, at least, she was still fighting. And Logan would be there to help her keep going, one step at a time.

As Logan left the classroom, the conversation with Laura replayed in his mind, lingering like a heavy weight on his chest. It was the kind of talk that always stuck with him, reminders of the pain these kids carried, the damage they fought to keep hidden.

He walked down the empty hallway, each step feeling slower, heavier. His usual routine of checking on classrooms and prepping for the next lesson seemed far away. All he could think about was Laura’s words, her quiet admission that she didn’t think she belonged anywhere, and how familiar that feeling was.

Logan knew that weight all too well.

He pushed open the door to the staff lounge, needing a moment to collect himself. The clock on the wall told him there were still ten minutes before the next class. It wasn’t enough time to shake this feeling, but he’d take what he could get.

Sinking into one of the chairs, Logan rubbed his hands over his face, trying to push the conversation out of his mind. But it wouldn’t leave him. It never did. It wasn’t just Laura. Every kid at the center carried a similar burden. They all had their demons, their scars. And each one of those conversations weighed him down, little by little.

It was part of the job, but that didn’t make it any easier.

The faint sound of a bell rang out in the hallway, signaling the start of the next class. Logan stood up slowly, taking a deep breath before heading out to meet his students. He had to pull it together. For them.

But as he walked back into the classroom, the weight of the conversation with Laura still clung to him like a dark cloud.

The day dragged on, and no matter how hard Logan tried to focus, his mind kept drifting back to the look on Laura’s face— the fear and vulnerability hidden beneath her tough exterior. He kept thinking about how much these kids reminded him of his own past, his own battles.

By the time the final bell rang, Logan was exhausted. Not from the physical strain, but from the emotional toll the day had taken on him. 

Just as he was packing up to leave, he spotted Wade through the classroom window. He was standing there with a goofy grin on his face, holding up a small box of donuts and a coffee.

But something felt... off. Wade’s smile didn’t reach his eyes like it usually did. He looked tense, distracted. Logan frowned but said nothing at first.

Wade sauntered into the classroom, his usual bravado on full display. “Hey, I come bearing gifts. You looked like you could use a sugar rush.”

Logan took the coffee, eyeing Wade carefully. “Thanks, man. You okay?”

Wade waved off the question with a laugh that sounded a little too loud. “Me? Of course! I’m always okay. What’re you talking about?”

Logan didn’t press further, but he wasn’t convinced. Wade’s humor had always been a shield, something to hide behind when things got too real. He knew that well enough by now.

"Alright," Logan said quietly, breaking off a piece of the donut and offering it to Wade. "If you say so."

Wade took the donut with a shrug, as if nothing was wrong, but Logan could see the tension in his shoulders. They sat there in silence for a while, chewing slowly. Wade broke the silence first, launching into one of his stories—something about a weird couple at last night’s gig and how he had to improvise a joke to get out of an awkward heckling situation.

Logan just nodded along, smirking occasionally at Wade’s antics. He wasn’t much of a talker, especially compared to Wade, but they had their dynamic down by now. Wade talked, Logan listened. That was how it worked. It wasn’t until Wade’s voice grew a little more strained that Logan felt the crack in his friend’s usual confidence.

As they walked out of the center, Wade was still rattling off his story, his words slightly more rushed than usual.

“I swear, man, if this one guy hadn’t backed off, I would’ve—"

“You sure you’re okay?” Logan asked again, cutting him off, his voice quieter this time, more concerned.

Wade immediately put his mask back on, laughing a little too loudly again. “Of course! Stop worrying about me, peanut. You’ve got your own crap to deal with. Speaking of which, how’s it going with Y/N, huh? Been hanging out together without me, yet?”

Logan rolled his eyes, though Wade’s obvious attempt to change the subject didn’t go unnoticed. “She’s our roommate, Wade.”

“Sure, sure,” Wade said with a wink. “Got it.”

Logan let it go. Pushing Wade wouldn’t get him anywhere. They’d been through this before. He’d talk when he was ready, and when that time came, Logan would be there.

Back at the apartment, the scent of something delicious greeted them as soon as they walked in the door. Y/N was in the kitchen, apron on, stirring a pot of what looked like some kind of stew.

“Hey, perfect timing,” she called over her shoulder. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Logan grunted a small thank you, setting his bag down by the door, but Wade was, as always, much more dramatic.

“Y/N, you absolute angel,” Wade gushed, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “I don’t deserve this! But I’ll take it.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing up at them both. “Long day?”

“You could say that,” Wade replied, but his usual humor seemed thinner, more like a front than ever before. He shot Logan a quick look, as if daring him to say anything. Logan just gave a subtle shake of his head and headed into the living room.

The shadows of the day lingered, tightening around him. He settled onto the couch, his mind racing back to Laura’s quiet admission. It was hard to shake the feeling that he was somehow failing her, as if his own past could offer her a lifeline he wasn’t made to provide.

Wade followed him in, his usual bravado on display but lacking its usual spark. “Hey, did you hear me? I was talking about the heckler,” Wade said, attempting to recapture the lightness that had slipped away from him.

“Yeah, I heard you,” Logan replied, trying to match Wade's tone. He could feel the edges of his own thoughts creeping in, threatening to overshadow their banter. “Sounds like you handled it well.”

“Of course! I’m the best,” Wade said with a grin, though it faltered slightly as he caught Logan’s gaze. “Seriously though, what’s up? You’ve been quiet. Did your kids hit you with one of those heavy questions again?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, but the words stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to drag Wade into his emotional turmoil, especially when his friend was clearly wrestling with something of his own. Instead, he forced a small smile. “Just a long day.”

Wade nodded, his gaze scrutinizing. “You know, you could talk about it, right? We’re here for you.”

Logan shrugged, the weight of Wade’s words hitting harder than expected. He appreciated Wade’s willingness to listen, but he also felt that familiar instinct to shield his friend from the darkness that came with his memories. “I’m good, really.”

Just then, Y/N emerged from the kitchen, carrying a pot. “Dinner’s ready!” she announced, her smile brightening the room. It smelled delicious. He loved that she was settling so well into their dynamic.

“Thanks, Y/N. You’re the best,” Logan said, feeling a warmth spread through him at her kindness.

Wade leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms with a playful smirk. “You’re amazing,” he gushed, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “You might be my favorite roommate I’ve ever had.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing between them. “Just trying to make something nice. Hope it’s okay!”

“Looks great,” Logan assured her, though he could see the uncertainty flickering in her eyes. She was still getting used to their routine, just as he was getting used to having her around.

As they gathered around the table, Logan focused on the meal, the rich aromas helping to distract him from his thoughts. Wade filled the silence with jokes and stories. Logan nodded along, trying to engage, but he could feel the tension in Wade’s shoulders, just as he sensed it in his own.

After dinner, as Y/N began to clear the table, Logan stood up to help her. “Let me take those,” he offered, reaching for the plates.

“Thanks,” she replied, her eyes meeting his briefly. He appreciated her easy smile, the way she brought a sense of warmth to their home, but he was still aware of how new everything felt.

Wade lingered at the table, looking at both of them with an unreadable expression. “You two sure seem cozy over there,” he teased, but there was a hint of something more serious in his tone.

Logan glared at him from the kitchen as the man just winked.

Bastard.

Once the table was cleared, they settled onto the couch. Logan leaned back, taking a moment to breathe. He felt the weight of the day settle in once more, but he was grateful for the distraction of Y/N and Wade. No matter how heavy the conversations, he knew he wasn’t alone in this.

“Alright, what’s next? Movie night?” Wade suggested, a little too brightly.

“Sounds good to me,” Y/N replied.

Logan nodded, grateful for the opportunity to escape, even if just for a little while. They flicked through the channels, laughter and light banter filling the room, but a part of Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that the shadows were still lurking just beyond the surface. Still, for now, he had this moment— this family —and it was enough.

XXX

[actuallysaiyan]

Menage A Trois(Retsu Unohana x Fem!Reader x Kenpachi Zaraki)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, threesome, vaginal fingering, bodily fluids(squirting and cum), power dynamics, Retsu is calling the shots, slight mommy kink if you squint, breast/nipple play, pet names(good/bad boy, good girl), just a whole mess of sex and threesome goodness word count: 1.9k pairings: Retsu Unohana x Fem!Reader x Kenpachi Zaraki a/n: this has been in the works(aka I've been daydreaming this) since THAT episode of Bleach TYBW, and this is thanks for @yeowangies that it exists cause I think she helped gas me up enough to write it.

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist:  @cherryblossombankai, @Misty-angerose, @yeowangies,  @felixmr, @thissaintjessi, @kenpachisbrat @pixelcafe-network.

You’re not sure how you ended up being the little plaything to not only Captain Zaraki but also Captain Unohana. It’s sort of a mystery considering you don’t think you’re anywhere near the strongest nor the smartest, but you caught the attention of that pair. And while you usually spend a lot of time with Captain Zaraki as he has a voracious appetite, tonight Captain Unohana requested the both of you in her chambers. You know better than to refuse this request.

The last time the three of you were together, you needed a few days rest from the immense bliss and pleasure you were subjected to. You figure it’ll probably be something similar this time, and you have no complaints at all.

When you get to her chambers, you find Captain Zaraki there. He smirks at you, towering over you like he always does. He eagerly takes you into his arms, kissing you and caressing your body. You love the way he’s always kissing you like he could never get enough of you. Kenpachi is very hungry for you.

Retsu walks in, frowning a little when she sees how Kenpachi has basically attacked you with kisses. She clears her throat and he jumps away from you. You notice how Zaraki seems to only really respect her. You look at her with curiosity before she points at him.

“Didn’t I tell you to get on the bed with your clothes off? You aren’t supposed to be pawing her as soon as she walks in the door.” Retsu commands.

Kenpachi rolls his eyes, “I don’t need you to tell me what to do, woman!” You notice the obvious bulge in his pants growing even bigger now.

He gets on the bed, taking off his clothes and folding them in a haphazard pile. Then he lays down, showcasing that gorgeous body you’ve come to love. Retsu comes over and she begins to massage your shoulders. She leans in close to you, you can feel her warm breath on your neck.

“He’s still a brute with how he handles his sex drive,” she whispers in your ear. “But we can teach him a lesson.”

She ushers you over to the bed. Captain Unohana knows how to set the scene. She’s gentle with you, but a little more firm with Zaraki. She then begins to undress you in front of him, narrowing her eyes whenever he tries to get off the bed to touch you.

“What did I tell you, Zaraki? You have to pay attention to my commands.” She scolds him.

He’s growing more and more impatient with every bit of clothing she takes off of you. He begins to stroke his cock, getting himself even harder than before. Retsu laughs softly and she leans back in to whisper in your ear.

“Look what you do to him.” She says, making you shiver. Her hands are on your body, groping and kneading the tender flesh. “You make him hard like some horny boy who’s never had sex.”

This is when she pushes you onto the bed gently. She commands you to lay down on his chest on your back. Kenpachi grunts when he feels your soft, warm body pressed up against his. He can feel your warmth radiating off of you, dripping deep down into his soul. Then he reaches up to begin kneading your breasts. He begins to hump you a little. His cock presses against your plush ass.

“Did I say you could touch her?” Once again, Unohana is on his case.

Kenpachi growls, “I don’t need to be fucking told to touch her!” But you can tell this is turning him on.

Retsu gets on the bed with both of you. She looks at where Kenpachi’s cock is between your folds now. You’re just starting to get wet too. She leans in and begins to massage his heavy balls. It’s always been something she’s loved to do. He grunts in response, eager to feel even more of her soft but calloused hands.

“That’s my good boy,” she coos at him. He’s blushing now and tries to look away from her.

You feel her hands soothing up and down your body, making you shudder with pleasure. She looks up at you from her spot between both yours and Kenpachi’s thighs. She’s loving every single moment of this.

“Do you want to fuck her?” Unohana asks him.

He scoffs. “Of course I want to fuck her, what kind of damn question is that?”

He grunts when she squeezes his cock just a little. This is to remind him who’s actually in charge. He growls loudly once more, but then it turns into moans as she begins to stroke his cock. It twitches and leaks precum in her palm, making her sigh. You can barely take your eyes off of her. You love the way she’s commandeering this entire event.

“Look at that,” she coos softly. “Look how horny our good boy is.”

You can hear him grunting and trying to protest again, but it’s all for nothing. She starts jerking him off, hard and fast. Kenpachi moans and growls under you, pumping his hips in time with her carefully planned strokes. Soon he’s moaning that he’s cumming and she doesn’t quit. Ropes of thick, warm cum spurt out and cover your mound completely.

“Oh what a good boy. You made such good lube for our pretty little plaything.” Retsu says, smearing the cum all over your pussy.

You gasp when she begins to finger you. It’s warm and slippery with Kenpachi’s cum added to your already wet pussy. You whine as she begins pumping her two cum filled fingers into your cunt. Kenpachi begins touching you; he’s kneading your breasts and tugging on your nipples. When Retsu uses Kenpachi’s cum to lube your clit, you know you won’t be able to last much longer.

“Awhh you two are both so cute.” Retsu coos as she works you towards a messy orgasm. “Are you both ready to make me cum?”

You can barely answer. Kenpachi holds onto you, keeping you as steady as he can. When the waves come crashing down, he’s actually the one coaxing you through every part of this pleasure. Then you slowly come down, shuddering and panting. Retsu leans in to kiss you softly, then she brings her cum coated fingers to your mouth.

“Suck on them. Lick them clean.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You begin sucking off the mixed juices. Kenpachi is growing hard once more just from watching this lewd act. You feel his cock between your folds once more. Retsu then pulls her fingers from your mouth, smirking at you.

“Undress me. You first, Zaraki.” She commands.

Her voice is so hypnotic. It’s so entrancing. It makes your heart race whenever she gives you a command like this. Kenpachi helps you off his body, laying you down on the bed with care. You know he’s got deep feelings for you too, which makes you happy.

Then he’s kissing her softly, to which she doesn’t protest. Instead, you watch as she pulls him closer to herself as they kiss in a hungry way. His large hands begin to take off her clothes and he greedily touches her. He’s groping her body, showing her off in a way. You crawl closer to the pair, but you still wait patiently for her next command.

“What a good girl,” Retsu praises you. “Come here, undress me.”

You eagerly crawl over and undress her. Your hands are almost shaking as you pull down her bottoms. Kenpachi smirks at the way you’re reacting to everything. It’s almost cute for him to see you lusting after the previous Kenpachi. He’s seen you two together before, but it’s always so alluring to the big man.

“Kiss me.” 

As your lips collide with hers, you feel Zaraki’s hands on your body again. It feels like heaven to have him groping you in such a greedy way, just like he had with her. Soon, she’s pulling you on top of her, and your breasts press together.

“I think it’s time we let Zaraki use our holes, hm?”

“Y-yes, I want him.” You confess, making both of them find you so adorable.

Kenpachi positions himself between both of your thighs. He’s stroking himself, making himself so hard and lubing up his cock with precum. Then you gasp when you feel him spreading your cheeks and prodding your hole with the tip of his dick.

“Do it, make her scream.” Retsu commands and Kenpachi can’t hold back anymore.

You gasp as he begins stretching you out on his cock. Unohana brings you down to kiss her, allowing you to moan against her lips. Having her body under you to keep you grounded while Kenpachi begins to ram into you really is perfect. Her hands keep your cheeks spread, allowing Kenpachi to fuck even deeper into you. 

“That’s it, show this cute little plaything how good she’s got it with us,”

Her words are swirling in your mind as you struggle to stay lucid. The way Zaraki is pounding into you has you moaning like a bitch in heat. Retsu’s hands all over your body and then going back down to grip your ass cheeks has you steadily getting to your peak so fast.

“C-cumming!” You cry out, gritting your teeth.

Neither of them expected you to begin squirting all over them. She’s laughing and coaxing you through the pleasure, calling you her good girl. Your mind is swimming with pleasure and lust. Eventually, Kenpachi pushes into Retsu and she’s squealing with pleasure.

“Oh you bad boy! I never said I was ready!” She growls, but she’s loving the way he’s already reaching so deep inside of her.

Kenpachi leans in to kiss her, sandwiching you between their toned bodies. You’re still recovering from such an intense orgasm, and having them both pressed up against you has such a soothing effect on you. Retsu begins moaning his name, then she’s guiding you back into a desperate kiss.

“Go on! Cum on my cock!” Zaraki is the one commanding now. Something about this really seems to turn both you and Unohana on.

She’s kissing you much more hungrily now. Her hands on your body are groping a little harder, making you squirm under her grasp. Her voice sounds so angelic as she’s getting closer to cumming. And the cry she lets out when she reaches her peak is so erotic.

Kenpachi is not far behind, grunting and growling that he’s close. He pulls out just in time to cover your ass in his thick seed, then he slowly pushes it back into your pussy to finish some more inside of you. Retsu doesn’t make any comments now, instead helping you lay back on the bed.

They both fuss over cleaning you up, then she’s helping Kenpachi onto the bed. You’re between them both, as Kenpachi leans over to begin sucking on your nipple. Retsu runs her fingers through his wild hair.

“What a good boy. Next time, I want you finishing inside of me, okay?” She asks him, tugging on his hair.

Kenpachi moans, “Yes, I will be good for you. I’ll finish inside you next time.”

You close your eyes, relishing in the way Retsu is massaging your shoulders and Kenpachi is sucking on your nipples.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[makedonsgriva]

anyway I had a thought today where crown prince xie lian is younger than everyone else.

He is probably 6-7 when he gets mu qing and feng xin (who are 16-17) and they coddle him a lot. Basically XL is their baby brother and baby prince wants to be as strong as his older brothers because they are both so cool!!!

baby lian meets hong-er on the streets one day and please gege can’t we keep him??? I don’t have friends!! You two don’t count cause you’re not my age. Please just please!!!!

So that’s how the trio becomes a quartet and feng xin and mu qing are not only the body guards of the prince but also baby sitters of two very unruly kids who are never up to any good

(They are not getting paid enough to deal with them) (it’s a damn good thing they love the fuck outta those kids)

anyways XL starts his training and ofc Honger tags along. they grow up training together, challenging each other, competing but falling in love at the same time and yeah celibacy is easy for XL except every time he sees HC his thoughts go haywire

When XL ascends, he has three generals by his side.

When he falls, he has two because honger died in the war

And XL truly thinks he is to blame. He went from being the darling of the heavens to someone who has now lost everything. he can’t bear the loss of his beloved

(And he never even got to confess)

Ofc HC keeps him company as a ghost fire because he’d never let his beloved be alone. (XL does not know who the ghost fire is because knowing the love of his life is not at peace would hurt him immeasurably) FX and MQ try their best to stick with him but circumstances deteriorate and they are forced out of his life once again

although this time, MQ does stand up for XL in front of the 33 gods (and gets subsequently banished from heavens). In the end, he still has to leave XL. FX gets forced out of his life after the entire sword ordeal and XL’s subsequent mental breakdown.

Unknown to XL tho they are still both watching over him from a distance because ain’t no way they are leaving their baby bro like this

When XL enters his calamity era, they both lose their minds and are trying their best to subtly stop XL from doing the worst things but THAT STUPID FUCKING GHOST ALWAYS FOLLOWING HIM AROUND WILL NOT STOP ENABLING EVERY BAD DECISION XL TAKES

fx and mq are losing their minds. when xl lies in the streets for three days, they try their best to disguise themselves and go help him but that NAMELESS GHOST!!! He does not let them!! “Your highness would be heartbroken when he realizes you two have seen him in such a state and he’d never forgive himself and you two suck at disguising yourselves anyways~”

wu ming does end up getting dispersed but not before XL realizes his true identity and absolutely loses his mind with grief because how did he manage to lose his loved one not once but TWICE and both the times it was HIS FAULT

He gets banished from heavens again because ofc

knowing xl won’t be able to cope fx and mq finally reveal themselves. xl can feel all ashamed of himself for his actions it’s fine they are not leaving him alone again and they will help him heal and move on

Except one night when the two aren’t paying attention, XL ends up running away. He can’t bear being around them, knowing they know what he did and how he caused honger’s death twice.

(fx and mq never blamed him at all. They were just heartbroken and guilt stricken for not being able to do enough for their darling brother)

Cue 800 years of searching.

This time when XL ascends, he is greeted by two powerful generals who have been reduced to a tearful mess because THEY FINALLY HAVE XL BACK WITH THEM!!! THEIR BABY BRO IS SAFE

they accompany him to mount Yu Jun as themselves and HC comes to XL’s aid

he does not reveal his identity but XL just knows this man is special

FX and MQ then tell him about Crimson Rain Sought Flower, the elusive ghost king who challenged 33 gods and crushed them all

(But he was super nice to both of them and it kinda freaked them out)

When XL meets San Lang. He knows. He just knows it’s Honger and feels like he can finally breathe again because in those 800 years he never once stopped loving him but he waits for him to reveal his identity to him because what is stopping him from telling him and fx and mq?

HC, meanwhile, is sort of embarrassed to meet them, not sure if they would be able to accept this new form of his. He missed them all dearly but he is just not able to move past his self doubts.

It is not until the cave of 10k gods that it revealed who HC really is and instead of FX and MQ freaking out, there is a tearful reunion

Um yeah. A thought was thunked. Bon Appetit

[ihavemanyhusbands]

The Assassin's Apprentice

PART ONE: RELUCTANCE

Mini-Series Masterlist

Also on AO3

Pairing: Duncan Vizla x Fem!Reader

WC: 2.6k words

Summary: A reluctant mentor gets assigned a reluctant apprentice to learn the ropes of the hitman business... Eventually. The result? Various situations for them to bond and play nice with each other, even if it's not always easy.

Warnings: one bed trope wahooooo, sort of implied mutual pining, assassin!reader (in training), swearing, lots of tension, slight power imbalance, eventual smut, beginnings of fluff, eventual angst, slight age gap (reader is in her 20s), smoking, and I think that's it right now but lmk if anything else!

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

“How long until we’re there?” You asked, glancing over at him.

He glanced back at you with a raised eyebrow. “We’ll get there when we get there.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms and turning back to the passenger side window. You tried to discern anything in the endless darkness of the highway, but you couldn’t see beyond the occasional road sign illuminated by the truck’s headlights.

You’d been on the road for hours, with no real idea of where, or when, Duncan — the so-called mentor you’d been paired with — was planning to stop. Your next assignment was somewhere in the midwest, between Illinois and Indiana, but he’d kept most of the other details to himself. 

You weren’t sure how he expected you to learn anything about the business if he wasn’t willing to share what he knew. You could barely even call him a teacher, really, but you found it was more due to willful negligence rather than outright incompetence. If anything, you’d think it would help the mentorship end faster, especially since you knew he was just as unhappy being stuck with an apprentice.

You’d only been working together for a couple of months, but you didn’t feel like you’d progressed all that much. Sure, you were getting a much better handle on weaponry, but you still had a long way to go. Guns were especially difficult, but that was yet another lesson he had neglected to teach you. 

Still, there was a small part of you that didn’t want to call the agency about a replacement. At least, you had gotten to know him enough to predict his moods and some of the decisions he took. Starting over again with someone new just seemed too tedious at that point. 

It was as they said, after all, better the devil you know than the one you don’t…

You sighed, wishing you could just go to sleep and forget everything for a few hours. Finally, as if your silent prayers were being answered, he pulled off the road into the parking lot of a dingy-looking motel. Surprisingly, it was relatively full, but there was a vacant spot right in front of the main office that Duncan pulled into.

“Let me do the talking,” he said, switching off the ignition. 

You rolled your eyes. “What, you don’t trust me not to give us away or something?”

“No, but I don’t want any sort of unnecessary back and forth, like right now,” he said pointedly. “We’ll take whatever room they have, we’ll sleep for a few hours, and we’ll leave early in the morning. That’s it, nothing more to it. You understand?”

“Whatever,” you muttered under your breath, following him to the main office. 

The reception had a rustic feel to it, with sparse decorations that had probably not been changed since the eighties. A small, old TV was playing Jeopardy, the voices indistinct and low. You hung back and pretended to leaf through some old pamphlets while Duncan went to speak to the manager, an old man who had been dozing off in his chair before you entered.

The manager looked through his yellowed logbook and smiled with what seemed to be relief.

“You’re in luck, this is our last room available,” he said.

“Two beds?” Duncan asked.

He shook his head. “Just a single, king-sized bed.”

At this, you couldn’t help yourself — your head snapped up in horror, eyes wide. “But you have extra cots, right?”

“Unfortunately, we are currently out of them. We have some larger families staying here right now.”

Duncan shot you a warning glare over his shoulder and you pursed your lips. You nodded tightly at the manager, who was confused at your slight distress. 

“I-is that alright with you? I’m sorry I can’t do more,” he said, eyeing Duncan, clearly intimidated by his size.

“It’s fine, we’ll take it. How much?” Duncan said, his voice starting to become haggard with exhaustion, and took out his wallet.

“Forty-five.”

He handed him the cash and practically snatched up the key. He jerked his head towards the door so you’d follow suit and you left the pamphlets back where you’d found them. 

“Room eighteen, at the other end of the lot!” The manager called out as the two of you were halfway out the door. 

You shot him an apologetic glance and mouthed a quick thank you before closing the door, the bell overhead jingling. 

Outside, Duncan immediately lit a cigarette and exhaled a plume of smoke. You gathered what little belongings you’d brought from the truck and followed him toward the room, silently cursing your luck. 

Your mind was racing with possibilities, but the one that kept coming up was making him sleep on the floor. It was only polite, after all, but you doubted he’d give in without a fight… If he gave in at all. Another option was to sleep on the floor yourself, but the consequences would not be pretty for him in the morning. 

You were struggling to come up with much else, but sleeping in the same bed was absolutely unthinkable. You wouldn’t even consider it. But still, heat traitorously crawled to your cheeks at the thought.

When you got close enough, you had to shake yourself out of your thoughts as he tossed the key at you. You barely caught it, blinking in surprise, but then you shoved past him with a huff. Dickhead.

“I’m gonna finish this,” he said, referring to his cigarette. 

Wordlessly, you shut the door behind you and dropped your bag on the bed, irritation still looming like a dark cloud over you. Before you could really think about it, you grabbed some sleep clothes and locked yourself in the bathroom to shower. 

The hot stream of water did seem to help ease some of your tension, and so you lingered for perhaps a little too long. You scrubbed thoroughly to wash the long day off of you, trying not to think of what would come next. 

What you didn’t know was that outside, Duncan had lit another cigarette, plagued with his own spiraling thoughts. He could never have predicted the day would end the way it did, and that threw him for a loop. Feelings he so carefully concealed warred inside him. He was not totally put off by the idea of sharing the bed, but he certainly would prefer not to. At least, not then.

He was already on edge from your biting remarks and scathing looks, but he wondered if that flame inside of you ever flickered with other emotions. Or if it was even possible, but perhaps he was just projecting. He was not the most patient of men, and he certainly did not know how to take care of – much less guide – someone. He’d always worked alone, and that was a fate he’d accepted long ago.

But then, there was you, shaking him out of his routine and somehow coaxing him into a state that seemed more present. Like he was finally disengaging autopilot, the days no longer blending into each other. Even if things were not necessarily smooth between the two of you. 

You took your time toweling off and getting dressed, too, just stalling for a little bit longer. Then you heard insistent knocking that immediately broke through your serenity. With another annoyed huff, you stomped over to the front door and yanked it open.

Duncan shouldered his way in, giving you a quick glance over that you chose to ignore. For a moment, you both stood there, unsure of how to proceed. You opened your mouth to say something, but he beat you to it.

“You can take the bed,” he said gruffly, deciding as soon as he saw you.

You gaped at him, stupefied. You had been braced for an argument, almost eager to defend yourself. But this was the first time since you’d met him that he’d truly taken you by surprise.

You relaxed your posture, clearing your throat as you looked away.

“Are you, um, sure?” You asked mostly out of politeness.

“Yes,” he said.

You nodded slowly, reluctantly muttering, “Thank you.” 

“What was that?”

“I said thank you,” you said louder, your jaw clenching.

He smiled a little in satisfaction, a teasing edge to it. “Nice to know you still have some manners, after all.”

You frowned, glaring up at him as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“I could say the same to you, what with you suddenly being so generous.” 

He grunted in response, which could be taken as a touché. You tossed him a pillow and the thin extra blanket that was folded over the comforter.

“I’m exhausted, so I’d advise you not to test me anymore tonight,” you said, sliding under the blankets. 

“Or what?” He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

You held his gaze pointedly. “Do you really want to find out?”

He shook his head, observing you for a moment longer before he let out an amused huff.

“That smart mouth of yours will get you in a lot of trouble someday. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, not the first time I’ve heard that. Doubt it’s gonna be you that does anything about it, though.”

He let out a wry chuckle. “Oh, yes. When trouble comes knocking, I’ll steer clear.”

With that, he dropped what you’d thrown at him and went into the bathroom to shower as well. You pressed your pillow over your face and let out a long groan. He really knew how to push your buttons, but it was especially frustrating that you didn’t think anyone had ever affected you in such a way before.

You pulled the covers up to your chin and turned away from the door, grumbling to yourself. But as you listened to the muffled sound of the water running, exhaustion got the best of you and you drifted into sleep without realizing it.

When Duncan was done, he saw your prone form and tried his best to tiptoe around the room so as not to wake you. He peeked over the side and found himself smiling softly upon seeing your serene expression, which was a rare sight. 

The life you had signed up for was not an easy one, he knew that well. Perhaps he was stalling because he wanted to spare you the worst parts for a little while longer — the loneliness, the constant paranoia and vigilance, the lack of trust.  

Or perhaps he liked having some company a little too much. Even if you always seemed to be ready to chew his head off, he still enjoyed having someone with him on all his travels. The lack of silence was a welcome reprieve.

He slept shallowly for a few hours, but he was woken up by the sound of your shuddering breaths. You’d been woken up by the cold that had crept in as night reached its darkest point, the measly motel sheets too thin for you to generate heat properly. 

He heard you tip-toe towards the heater, cursing under your breath when you realized it was broken. You realized you’d left your jacket in the truck, as well, but you wouldn’t dare venture out there into the freezing night for it. You wanted to punch something in frustration, but you clenched your fists tightly instead.

He shifted on the floor, looking up at your silhouette. “Trouble sleeping?” 

“Aren’t you freezing?” You asked, teeth chattering slightly.

“A little,” he said, already used to finding ways of maintaining body heat.

You stood there for a moment, trying to rub warmth onto your arms. A part of you already knew the solution to your problem, but you didn’t want to voice it. You didn’t think he’d let you live it down if you did.

And yet, he was the one to speak up.

“Do you want me to…?” He trailed off.

The word no was immediately on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. All you wanted was some goddamn rest for at least one night, and if you needed to sacrifice both your pride and your dignity for it… then you would deal with it when daylight came. 

You sighed heavily, resigned. “Not really, but also… yes?”

He stood up with a grunt, tossing his pillow and blanket back on the bed. His heavy footsteps thudded to the other side of it as you reluctantly slid back under the covers. His weight sank his side of the mattress as he lay down and you almost rolled into him.

Quickly, you scooted away as far away as possible, your back nearly hanging off the edge. 

“Alright just – stay on your side, okay? No funny business. I mean it,” you warned. “I’m not afraid to cut your fingers off if you try anything.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I don’t doubt it. But what if it’s you who tries something instead?”

“Oh, you wish,” you huffed, turning away from him. “Good night, Duncan.”

He hummed in response, smiling to himself as he settled on his back. Luckily for the both of you, his presence was enough for the bed to warm up properly. You fell back asleep without much more protest and in your unconscious state, you sought out more of his warmth. Your body inched close to his, and his body involuntarily found itself rolling to one side and enveloping you.

It was almost natural, the way you fit just right in his embrace. It was foolish to pretend you didn’t, in some subconscious way, expect to end up like that. Both of you slept more soundly than you had in a long time.

Early the next morning, when pale tendrils of light filtered in through the thin curtains, you began to wake up to find yourself flush against him. In your half conscious state, you hummed and nestled against him more comfortably, not quite wanting to get up yet. Then slowly, you began to remember just who was holding you. From there, more and more details started to sink in – the top of your head under his chin, your back against his chest, your butt pressed to his…

Your eyes popped open and you drove your elbow back into his chest. With a groan, his arms untangled from around you and you hastily wiggled away from him. He blinked up at you blearily as you glared down at him, noticing that his smell lingered on you. Your face felt like it was on fire. 

“What are you doing!? I told you to stay on your side!” You hissed, still reeling from shock and outrage. 

“I-I’m sorry, I just didn’t notice. Guess we slept pretty deeply,” he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with one hand. “What time is it?”

He rolled onto his back and it was then that you noticed something bulging underneath the sheets. 

“Oh god… oh my god,” you whispered panickedly, quickly looking away even if the image had seared itself into your mind. “I, um, I don’t know, just get ready okay!? Please let’s just get the fuck out of here.”

He frowned for a moment, confused by your hysterics, but then he noticed his own predicament and tried to cover himself with one large hand. He found himself blushing a little, too, and he grabbed a pillow for extra measure. 

“U-um yes, yes, go ahead and use the bathroom first if you need,” he said. 

You didn’t need to be told twice, running inside and locking the door behind you. You looked at your wide-eyed reflection in the mirror and let out an exasperated breath. You internally cursed yourself for having been weak willed, even if for a moment. Sure, the rest had been worth it, but what about everything else? 

Well, maybe if neither of you mentioned it again, then it would be like it didn’t happen at all… right?

---------

[nezuscribe]

(i was the nonnie who asked about how america works) i don't really wanna keep going back and forth with this cause i dont wanna be annoying or anything, but i did a little bit of research and... that's not really what i've seen??

for all the economy stuff, Biden still had four (or is it five? idk how long your presidents stay in office) years to fix the economy he got from trump if it really was bad, and what ive seen from gas prices and grocery prices in america, he clearly hasn't done that

kamala also had four years to fix the issues she was talking about, so there's that

also, from what i know (pls correct me if im wrong) all of those sexual assault cases and other charges placed against him were proven wrong. i dont think hes actually been indicted or placed in jail for anything (which ig you could sum up to the unfair legal system over there, but wasn't there that hole issue with the Clinton guy?? maybe im getting things confused, idk)

from my research didn't he also provide a lot more jobs for people of color? ive never heard him say anything explicitly racist during his rally's (i havent watched all of them) or with his legislation. ik that whole thing with the border wall was going on, and i do think that was 100% rash way to deal with the border crisis, but the Biden guy also didn't do anything to help that situation

for reproductive rights, i remember tuning into the kamala v. trump debate and he explicitly said that he was pro-abortion in the cases of rape, incest, and life of the mother (if you think that abortion should be okay in any circumstance, the ig its just a different morality, where i live thats very not okay)

for the banning books thing, ive seen plenty of clips where in elementary school library's theyve been putting out books with porn and smut in them, which i think is not okay for little children to be leanring. from what i understand, that's probably what he was trying to do with banning books (again, pls correct me if im wrong)

and i've also never really seen him display any sort of homophobic tendencies.

pls keep in mind that this is all very basic level research, as i dont really have time to go that in depth, but im majoring in politcial science at my uni, so i think this is an interesting and important topic to discuss (sorry for making this so long)

so you seem pretty pro trump at this point but I’ll still humor you if you want to be so forgiving of him.

Who told you those sexual assault cases weren’t true? Those victims still stand by their stories.

And I said I’m not saying that Biden is great. But he was still working with Trumps fuck up. Also idk how much you know about a vice president, but they can’t really do much when they’re not president. I’m not saying Harris did everything she coudlve done, but being a vp has a lot less power than you think.

And for reproductive rights, yeah right. Those fuckers don’t give a DAMN about any cases. Even if they say they do. They want it gone, point blank period.

And one of his first days of office he took away trans people from the military. He spews homophobia.

Do more research. This is embarrassing

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

ISAT is In Stars And Time, if you have the time, watch "So, You're Stuck in a Time Loop!" by youtuber JelloApocalypse, its goes deep enough that you should have gotten the gist of the game without getting spoiled on the ending.

also very sorry that i haven't been crumbing, its crunchtime for me irl and i am ALMOST FREE, so i cant write my crumbs right now :(

also who cares if what you write isn't canon, its great to read all the same. off shoots and what-ifs are always interesting to read.

also, before i send, one last angst crumb:

what if reader was too late in the forest? if the wolf got to landing an injury on one or both of the cubs? knocking one out or perhaps fatally injuring them? imagine how the conscious/surviving cub would react to seeing reader running in to fend off the wolf too late? and imagine them seeing reader attempting to patch up injuries, not knowing if its too late or not.

if they return to their original forms in diyu, well, i guess that would be an easy way to break the curse? sun wukong already escaped once, he could probably do it again. so easy curse break, unless it reapplies itself the moment he leave diyu. would be terrible luck tho, to be a monkey cub all alone far away from the group, unless he was lucky to pop out near them.

i like my angst as much as i like my timeloops, haha.

also feel free to slice my asks if it makes your life easier, i don't mind if you jump back and forth or only answer some, or take longer to answer some than others.

Okay so the ideas of “In Stars and Time” are so cool! I really like what I have seen, personally I don’t care about spoilers so you don’t have to worry about spoiling anything for me! The video was a really fun watch, though with how much it jumped around it was rather confusing, but didn’t really give too many spoilers. Had some fun laughs during it.

OKIE!! I love angst so onto it!!

If one of the cubs get hurt to the point Reader has to worriedly patch them up, she would do so when they get to the village. Carefully wrapping them in cloth as she applies pressure to make sure the bleeding stops.

Throughout their lives neither Wukong nor Macaque have ever had to have someone take care of them like this. Someone frantically taking care of them, and fussing over their injuries and making sure that they are getting better.

For them to wake up or see Reader take care of their mate would send them spiraling in instincts for better or for worse- Their VERY selfish nature would more than likely to go almost full Yandere pretty quickly after that. Of course that would mean they’d have to break the curse (Not that they aren’t going to go Yandere they definitely will be going Yandere in this au, it is a Yandere au after all. They don’t like it when- Ah spoilers hehe~)

Now if one of the cubs are sent to Diyu. If one of the cubs is sent to Diyu then they would undoubtedly return to their regular forms, not only one but both would actually.

The curse that holds the two of them actually breaks if they are separated as is was a curse set to the both of them at the same time with the same spell. So if this were to happen there would be no more curse. (Whoever was sent to the Diyu would cause absolute devastation there though as they break out)

In this AU the DIYU had only captured Wukong the first time, however I know that in JTTW both of them end up in the DIYU during their fight. So we know that they can both end up there, personally in my au Macaque and Wukong are relatively equal in power. Each having their own skills that they are better in of course.

But basically if one were to die, then they would revert back to their Warlord Form, which would definitely freak Reader out. And she would get captured A LOT faster, at this point they wouldn’t kill her, they don’t see her as wife material quite yet but since they won’t kill her it would still happen.

Reader would end up on Flower Fruit Mountain starting off as a servant, one who the cubs of the mountain really like.

And it wouldn’t take too long for the warlords to fall in love with her when she’s always by them, as afraid as she is of them.

If this were to happen they’d find her fear cute at first, so it wouldn’t be as soft of a love story at first (I use soft because it’s the only word I can think of, Wukong and Macaque try to be soft but we all know court-napping isn’t actually soft)

Ba: “What is this woman doing here my king?”

Wukong: “She is going to be a servant.”

Ba: “You both seem to like this new servant you brought in.”

Wukong and Macaque: *both with bruises from getting into a fight with each other and finally admitting they like Reader to each other* “… Yeah, we do.”

Ma: “Go on dear, you wished to see the flowers didn’t you.”

Reader: “No-No I need to get my work done. I don’t want the Kings to be mad at me.”

Ma: *Thinking* ‘You don’t see how they will NEVER be mad at you, do you.’

I loved this ask!! Thank you for sending it, and I hope that you love this!

Comments, reblogs and likes always welcome!

[carlsangel]

I saw a small headcannon fic about this a while ago and it’s been bugging me ever since, teen pregnancy? Like how would the others react 😭 there would be a high chance of it happening but like what do they even do on that situation 😰!?!?

HELLOOOO oh my gosh i think about this sometimes and imma make this a drabble if you don’t mindddd!!

i think initially you’d obviously not get pregnant on purpose, probably some stupid decision you made on a whim just because teenagers are teenagers, they’re horny (most of the time) so they’re gonna have sex DUHH but anyway you’d sort of regret it in a way, knowing there’d be a chance yet not worrying too much. you don’t really think it’ll happen to you until it does kinda thing. you’ll miss your period, get worried and try to find a pregnancy test on a run, maybe a couple to make sure if they’re available. if you end up seriously being pregnant you have no idea how to tell carl initially. it’s something you’ve thought about before and worried about, mainly because you know his issues with his own mom giving birth and that’s just a large part of his trauma growing up.

naturally you put off telling him for a bit but you know you have to. you sit him down and it’s very harsh at first. like it’s incredibly awkward while he just sits there and processes it. you’d both sort of panic at what to do, he wouldn’t be as vocal about it and instead would let it bounce around the walls of his brain because he doesn’t always react out loud but he is terrified in his head. it’s not about being a father really, he knows the child itself would be raised by good people and he wouldn’t necessarily have an issue with that, it’s more of your health. having a child young, in the world you live in without modern medicine anymore it’s terrifying to think about. you’ll assure him however that there’s doctors at every settlement that could do everything in their power to help.

after a bit of you guys processing you’d want to tell others, well not want but HAVE to since that’s not really something you can hide. it’d start with rick and michonne. i’ll be so honest, they’re disappointed. like it’s just the fact that you’re aware of the dangers and such and you did it anyway, they’re going to be disappointed but they’re still going to help you. i think rick initially would be quite pissed but michonne is very rational and tries to help and he realizes that being pissed won’t change anything so he follows her lead. i think regarding the rest of the group, they’d be concerned for you for sure but i don’t think they’d really have a big say in it. like yeah they’d think “damn that’s a mistake” or “that’s gonna be rough” but either way that baby is going to be raised perfectly with the biggest family and tons of people who care about it.

me yapping i hope that explained sigh

[rukakaru-u]

DGM 253 thougts and questions

1) Apo doesn’t understanding the nature of the helix further emphasised that Innocence is amoral

It is established that Innocence is sentient, but all the fragments are subordinate to the Heart. Most of them don’t have free will; they are either dormant or try to attract accommodators because the Heart needs them to. Since they are stuck in a crystalized form, all they can do is cause strange phenomena to signal people. It seems like they can interact with most things in this world, not just living beings, but they don’t know limitations (thus the natural disasters). Lavi saying that Apo doesn’t understand the helix implies that even though he can learn, react to, and mimic human behavior, he can’t comprehend human nature, by extension morality either. It makes him an interesting antagonist and contextualizes his obsession with Allen. Apo thinks that he is superior to people and only views them as energy sources, but Allen’s existence challenges this. So far, it seems like that Innocence are reactionary creatures that can learn from and evolve trough people but have limitations when it comes to emotional intelligence.

2) The Heart’s conditions for choosing an accommodator are related to their fate, or rather Innocence forces them to stuck in a bad one

Fate is interpreted in different ways in the story. For Allen, it is a choice, to Cross, it is something you create, to Mana it is something you can't escape and for the Heart, something to control. It is unclear if people’s fate is determined or if there are several different outcomes for everyone, but Innocence can sense that someone is on a bad path.* I assume, they can detect strong emotional responses, but they also must be in the right place. With the affirmation that accommodators are sacrificial lambs, the Heart’s method of trapping people in their misery is particularly cruel and still, questionably efficient. If the Heart wants to go against the Earl, I wonder if quality can battle with quantity. One miserable accommodator is that much more powerful?

*Side note: Does innocence accept bookman as accommodators, because their job is miserable by default? Can they get rid of innocence after they are done recording? If a Jr. is a chosen one, does that mean that some people’s fate is indeed determined?

3) Does the Heart eat souls too?

All living things have a soul, and after death, they go back to their origin: the helix. Humans have the most powerful helix energy; their emotions bring forth evolution and their bonds connect them through time and space. This natural power is both exploited by the Earl and the Heart. The Earl can imprison (=contain and control) souls and then use their despair to evolve Akuma, while the Heart seeks out specific people to slowly drain out their life energy for reasons, again, unknown. Through Allen’s eye we see that Akuma souls don’t have a free will and probably can’t go back to the helix until an exorcist sets them free. Even though the Heart only deals with life energy, what if the twist is that exorcised souls end up in it? It is kinda stupid, but also fun. (Will there be a Madoka Magica twist too??)

4) How could Lavi sacrifice himself?

So, the "magical" rules of this universe aren’t that clear to me still; there is rarely ever an explanation why things happen the way they are. (But it could be that I’m an overthinker too). The Bookman are also the cheaters of this world (special blood, ancient knowledge, inhuman strength, etc.), but really, all it takes is a decision to be part of somebody’s soul? Is the price that Allen must suffer in the future? Like they must pay back to the universe? Or must he suffer, because there was something wrong with Lavi? DGM, explain.

This chapter had more confirmations than questions, which is nice. :))

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Some of these anons take the easy way of blaming the BRF for MM's "downfall". Jean Malek called her out LONG ago. Why aren't her Suit cast mates defending her or even being friends with her except for that one thirsty fella who's posting about her?

What happened to Janina, her number one supporter who said she had seen the emails and texts and had lived the experience with MM? All her supposed A list buddies are no longer selling the "MM is a poor little victim" story anymore? Gayle and Oprah did a happy dance on the street saying they have seen the proofs of BRF's horrible treatment of MM but now are as quiet as mice. Is that the BRF's doing too? 🙄

Tell me, what else has Jean Malek done to expose Meghan other than that one Instagram comment? Did he give interviews talking about her? Did he provide any receipts? Did he go on a media tour to talk about her behavior? No, he didn’t. He wrote one comment and then noped off to the rest of his life. But sure, let’s give him, a photographer that no one outside the incredibly-niche SMM side of royal-watching knows, all the credit for Meghan’s takedown.

The Suits cast are Meghan’s former coworkers. You sound young, so let me clue you in on How The World Works: people don’t talk about or to former coworkers when they’re no longer working together unless they’ve developed a personal relationship and socialize outside of work. You could work somewhere for 2 years or 10 years or 30 years - but the day you walk off that job, that’s the end of that relationship with most of those people. The Suits cast doesn’t talk about Meghan because their only relationship was work. They didn’t actually have a real relationship. It was all faked for the camera. They don’t have anything to share about her.

Now let’s look at your accusations that we’re ignoring the BRF’s attempts to silence their critics, who also just so happen to be Meghan’s friends. Whoops, sorry, “friends,” because 2 of 3 people you cited have only publicly associated with Meghan less than 5 times combined and have not confirmed any time spent together privately.

Janina - the fact that you don’t even know her last name to include it in your ask gives her the same importance as Jean Malek. No one outside a very niche group of royal-watchers know who she is, what she does, or how Meghan knows her. She has no power to take down the BRF so they don’t give a twat about her. They, like the rest of us, probably don’t even know who she is.

Oprah - the most famous of Meghan’s so-called friends, but someone who has only publicly associated with Meghan 3 times (the wedding, the interview, and the bookstore) and her mother once (pap photos) over 6-7 years. A woman who still has the power to sway Middle America with her own opinion? If anyone could do serious damage to the BRF’s reputation, it’d be Oprah and her influence over middle America, even with her downgraded credibility after that interview. And you’re positive that it was the BRF who silenced Oprah and not, you know, her own ambition? Because at the end of the day, Oprah would give both kidneys, her right arm, and her Tina Turner wig to interview Charles, William, and/or Kate. You don’t get to have that opportunity if you’re backing someone who’s declared them Public Enemy #1.

Gayle King - Oprah’s best friend and a newsreader who’s only been in the same room with Meghan once (when she presented her baby to the world in Windsor Castle). A newsreader who also, may I remind you, anchored her network’s broadcasts of The Queen’s funeral and The King’s coronation. She knows which side her bread is buttered because as one of her network’s key news anchors for historic and special event programming, she cannot afford to upset the family of the British head of state whose personal milestones - coronations, jubilees, weddings, births, deaths, and funerals - are important and newsworthy historical events that her network wants media credentials to cover.

(In case you didn’t know: it’s not an automatic guarantee who goes to these events and who gets to cover them.

1. Most networks have internal discussions - which are really more like competitions between all the anchors and reporters - about who gets to cover these events. The reporters that go to London for the in-person coverage are going to be the reporters who can get the best interviews with bystanders, attendees, or the Royal-adjacent crowd. If Gayle King is gloating about “devastating” receipts she has personally seen and she’s staked her professional and public reputation on being #TeamMeghan…well, she probably isn’t going to get the kind of interviews or pull-asides that other networks with more BRF-friendly reporters get, so CBS probably isn’t sending her to London. They’re keeping her in the New York studios instead. Now Gayle might want that cushy studio job, but she might also want to be on the ground in London - we don’t know. But the fact that Gayle has stopped speaking about Meghan is striking; either she’s realized her career depends on shutting up about the BRF or she’s realized that Meghan is on a downward spiral into public obscurity and professional embarrassment and unhitched her wagon from Meghan’s coattails.

2. Outside of the rota, all media networks, British and foreign, have to request credentials (aka approval) from the BRF to attend their events and apply for a spot on the ropes or in a media center to broadcast from. So a network needs to be on good terms with the palace’s press office to ensure they get a good spot for broadcasting. While the palace isn’t going to outright reject or deny credentials to a network or a reporter critical of them or their principals, they’re certainly going to make it clear they’re not a preferred network and that’s going to be through giving them a not-so-good placement. So when a network is having the internal discussion/competition about who to send, they’re going to take into consideration what kinds of public comments their most-visible reporters or anchors have said and how it affects their chances for placement.

So the chances that BRF silenced Gayle are pretty small. It’s more likely that Gayle herself decided Meghan was the wrong horse to back when she considered potential ramifications to her career with all the BRF events that were - at the time - in the pipeline.)

So all that…and now I must ask: are you honestly, seriously, really telling me that the head of state in Britain cares that much about suppressing terrible information about themselves that they’d smother a whole bunch of C-list actors, some nobodies, one of the most famous women in the world, and a reporter in NDAs prohibiting them from speaking?

Put down Finding Freedom and Endgame and go take a walk in some crunch leaves, because this take is wild.

(My deepest, sincerest apologies to Gina Torres and Wendell Pierce, who are very much A-List and were shining beacons of gloriousness amidst the sea of cable C-Listers.)

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

❗❗ HEY ❗❗ I SAUR YEW ADD BUCKY BARNES TO YOUR MLIST 🫵🫵🫵 YOU AINT SLICK ❗❗

anywayssss would you be willing to rank your comic book men on least to most willing to kill for their darling? i know we got your opinion on dick but i wanna see how it compares to everyone else

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋…

!!! gn reader, mentions of death/murder, violence, breaking bones, intimidation, threats, manipulation, general mental issues, biochemical attack (how the fuck did we get here), mutilation, self-harm, can be translated as either romantic or platonic.

Help, why did the beginning of this ask trigger my fight or flight for 0.2 seconds, LMAO. I dropped my phone like I was caught red-handed or some shit.

So, I initially made an oath to not answer any more asks until I either finish Life With Older Brother IV or my secret side project, but then I got this ask and figured I could use a little creative break. I’m hitting some brick walls right now with all of my writing projects, sobs.

So!! Here we go. Remember, this is in the order of least to most likely in a general sense. Featuring some new faces because I’m finally confident in depicting their comic book counterparts, yippee!!

Jaime Reyes: Obviously, if the scarab had its way, anyone who poses as a threat to Jaime’s beloved would be neutralized. But we’re talking about Jaime. As long as he’s in full control, he’d probably do everything in his power to not kill anyone, even if it’s for you. He knows he’s fucked in the head. No matter how hard he tries to convince himself it’s still just the scarab preying on his anxieties, it’s getting harder and harder to distinguish Khaji Da’s thoughts from his own. This spiral into insanity around his own morality and guilt would have him cling oh-so desperately to the idea that he’s still a hero. To him, the no-kill role is the only way to know for sure he’s still (kind of) himself.

Bruce Wayne: He’s The Batman. Of course he doesn’t kill. Sure, he may be a bit more violent towards potential threats when it comes to you, but he still doesn’t kill. It’s a core belief that he’ll stick to for as long as evil lurks in the shadows of Gotham. Besides, why would he need to kill when cracking a few ribs gets the message across just fine? Most people don’t even want to fuck with him in the first place; both as Bruce Wayne and especially The Batman. In many cases, simple intimidation will do the trick. It’s much neater than violence. Though violence is definitely still on the table when he’s in a mood (Alfred, for the last time, he does not need a therapist. He’s perfectly functional).

Clark Kent: Whereas Batman doesn’t kill, Superman can’t kill. Meaning, Clark is well aware of the image he has to uphold as the ever-so hopeful Man of Tomorrow. Which is actually fine by him. Due to his strong sense of morals, the thought of blood on his hands makes him sick to his stomach. But there are some cases where that dark voice in the back of his mind whispers he could easily snap the neck of that weirdo talking to you. Of course, this is clearly just a strange intrusive thought, and he guiltily shakes it out of his head the moment it appears. He’s Superman, for heaven’s sake! He’s better than that! Stooping to that level is simply not an option. But you know what is an option? Gripping people hard enough that their bones shatter. Accidents do happen, after all…

Wally West: The chances of him killing are very slim. Believe it or not, he’s not against the idea or anything (only when it comes to you), it’s just he doesn’t see the need to get his hands dirty. There are enough tactics in his arsenal that the thought won’t even cross his mind. A silver tongue can work miracles on its own, and standing at 6 feet tall, Wally can be surprisingly intimidating in his own right. Should there be any threat agains you, he’s more focused on getting you out of harm’s way than beating the shit out of anyone (that comes later, away from your prying eyes). At worst, anyone who pushes their luck will get fractures and road rashes as a result. Killing just isn’t an impulse Wally has. But if it absolutely has to happen… well, wouldn’t that be a shame?

Dick Grayson: As mentioned before in a previous ask, killing is off the table. Dick’s still a hero, and heroes don’t kill. It’s just that he miiiight accidentally lose control if he sees you in a critical state. The ask goes into much deeper detail than this, but to sum it up, he would feel devastated afterwards but eventually justify it to himself. It was to protect you… if he didn’t do it, god only knows what would’ve happened. Otherwise, he’s not one to get his hands dirty like that. The most he’ll do is deliver a very ominous threat that doesn’t outright mean he’s going to kill anyone, but the implications aren’t very pretty. And, if he can help it, he’d rather if you’re not in earshot. Unless if he somehow sees it as a good manipulation tactic. Then sure, you can hear all about how he’s going to drown someone in their own bathroom.

Peter Parker: He has a strong aversion to killing. Now, is that an outright no? As much as he’d like to think so, there are situations where no-kill is optional. Most of them involve you being in active danger. While he doesn’t go out of his way to kill anyone, he sure as hell isn’t thinking about the survivability of his rampage to make sure you’re safe. Causalities would be collateral damage; unfortunate, but possibly necessary. He also has a habit of threatening people’s lives when he’s particularly pissed off. As long as you’re not in some sort of critical state, he usually doesn’t follow through with them (and may even feel guilty afterwards). That being said, hearing your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man deliver a cold one-liner about wanting someone dead is still hella scary.

Steve Rogers: Listen, it’s not at all what he wants. He wouldn’t advocate for murdering your problems away both with or without the shield. But sometimes — just sometimes — it’s necessary. Of course he’d kill someone that posed as a threat to your personal safety. That doesn’t make him a terrible person or anything; most people would do that for their loved ones. Where the line starts to blur, however, is when there isn’t any immediate danger. Does that weirdo who was looking at you for too long count? God— no, Rogers. What is wrong with you?! But… then again, there was this look in their eyes… something’s just so off about them. Ultimately, Steve wouldn’t go through with it, but the thought does cross his mind. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.

Hal Jordan: The answer is yes, but mostly because he’s a Lantern. Sometimes, neutralizing the threat is necessary. He would absolutely kill if it meant saving your life. Is it ideal? Absolutely not. Is it cathartic?… Lowkey. Hal’s not afraid to abuse his right as a Lantern to “neutralize the threat.” But keep in mind that this is a rare occurrence that depends on his mood. Really, he only considers it for situations you’re extremely distressed by, like some piece of shit giving you the creeps. He wouldn’t kill for his own personal gain, as much as he sometimes wants to; this is all about you, not him. I also don’t really see him having regrets. If he wants someone dead, he absolutely means it.

Remy LeBeau: It’s simple; if he’s gotta do it, he’s gotta do it. He’s got not moral hang-ups when it comes to killing. He doesn’t do it often, but he’s willing to clean up a mess or two if needed. The need to kill ranges from your personal safety to just not liking someone’s vibe. If that were the case, he’d give the poor sucker more than enough hints to leave you alone. Murder would be a last resort should they not listen; which is totally on them, by the way. Gambit can’t help it if they’re not the sharpest tool in the shed. Is kinetically charging someone’s car to explode not enough of a warning or something? Man, what is wrong with people these days…

Tim Drake: Okay. Tim is just so versatile. Yes, he’s absolutely morally opposed to killing. Yes, it’s a necessary evil. Yes, the thought of it makes him want to throw up. Yes, he’d do it in a heartbeat for you. Somehow, all of these thoughts coexist in his sick little head. What makes Tim a threat is the fact he’s extremely unstable. One day, he’s got himself in check; god, he would never kill anyone, why would he do that?! Then the next day, he seems to have a change of heart; if anyone even looks your way, he’s dumping anthrax in their cereal. His preferred method is something clean, but if he’s in a particularly bad mood, he may revert to some mutilation with his nails. On those particularly violent days, he’d much rather harm himself than others, but there is something cathartic about scratching at someone else while sobbing about minute problems. Though that’s one hell of a “did I do that” moment when it’s over.

Scott Summers: Yes. And he’ll fucking do it again, too. When it comes to you, this man has killed people by accident before. Did he give a shit? Absolutely not. Why would he care if someone doesn’t know how to protect their spinal column when taking a blow; especially if it’s someone who dared to lay a hand on you? And, yeah, he’s supposed to be a good role model for mutants all over the globe, but a good leader knows how to take calculated risks when needed. Your safety is his top priority, meaning he’ll do whatever he deems necessary to keep danger away. Man, is it just absolutely brutal watching someone’s skin melt away from the friction of one continuous optic blast. Who knew he could cave in skulls with that shit?

Bucky Barnes: Let’s be honest, is anyone surprised? Yeah, that’s what I thought. You could simply point to someone you hate and they’d be gone within the next 24 hours. Bucky isn’t here to fuck around. While he may regret any kills he was forced to carry out, he sure as hell doesn’t regret the ones he’s actively choosing to do. If anything, his conditioning has left him no other way to show his total devotion to you. Yes, this means you he leaves fresh human hearts at your doorstep. Yes, this means he strings up the remains of your annoying colleagues where you can see them outside. Yes, this means he watches you sleep while caked in blood and guts after every nightly kill. Some small part of him knows it’s wrong, but he really could not give less of a shit. So much for trying to reform him…