#//She’s the hardest on herself if she fails; after all. so she does what she can to ensure her failures are not Absolute—Oz appreciates tha

[oceanxveiined]

At her very core, she is the very definition of “jack of all trades, master of none”. She has a acquired a multitude of skills—dance, inventing, song, penmanship and composition, combat, strategy, and investigation, among others—but there is always someone within the Snake Eyes group who will always surpass her in some regard. So why does Ozzy keep her around?

Well, if there’s something she has above everyone else, it’s her tenacity and her daring

[ohcaptains]

don’t you dare fall in love | 3

pairing. dealer college student! ellie williams x f! reader

PART ONE. PART TWO. MASTERLIST. synopsis. ellie tries her hardest not to mix business with pleasure. or, ellie gets a new customer and unfortunately falls in love with her.

warnings. 18+. blank & ageless blogs will be blocked. clichè comments on sorority girls (sorry), sexually explicit descriptions of female receiving cunnilingus, fondling, fingering, and dry humping. not beta’d.

an. well here ya go! thank u to all those who were so patient and lovely with me<3 to those who weren’t and were mean to me...i’m giving you the nastiest dirty look rn. pls comment and reblog!!!! love u. 

When Ellie gets out of her meeting with her personal tutor, she’s just about ready to throw herself down the stairs.

Catapult herself out of the window and perish on the campus floor. That way, she wouldn’t have to rewrite this God. Damn. Essay.

It sucks that she has to do actual work to get her degree, but what sucks even more, is doing the work and being told you’ve done it all wrong.

At first, Ellie was angry. Now, she’s frustrated. Tired. Was up all night writing this essay because she’s been waiting for this meeting for a whole week, and all the man did was say, you’re not actually answering the question.

“Fucking asshole,” she murmurs, pushing through the doors.

She reaches the quiet hallway of the humanities block, the dilapidated building stuffy with age. She misses her uber-funded science building. Misses the cool white and sleek edges. Here, there’s paper covering everything.

The hallways go round and round – lift creaks from the weight of students carrying War and Peace in their backpacks, year after year.

She’s near tears when she hears you calling her name.

“Els?” you ask, tone confused and edged with excitement. Ellie’s heart does its little familiar leap. She turns to you, sniffing the tears away. It’s been a minute since she saw you in the flesh. Her body aches, eager to touch you. “Hey,” she greets, the presence of you brightening her mood for a sweet second. You’re wearing a casual pair of black jeans and a band tee – Ellie owns a similar one, and for a moment, she thinks you’re wearing her shirt. “I was just about to text you –” you start, but your face twists, noticing hers. “You okay?” “Yeah,” Ellie lies. The tears push harder now, your concern making her belly flop.

You frown. “No, you’re not.”

Her lip wobbles.

“Ellie?” “Sorry, just – fuck --” her eyes are rimmed red, tears pushing over the edge. “—had a really shitty meeting with my tutor about my essay that’s worth like, 50% of my grade and I’m so busy with other work and—” a tear slips down her cheek, but you’re quick to take her in your arms, murmuring, “oh, Els,” as you cup her head and pull it into your neck.

She releases a breath, leaning her full weight into your body.

You smell like laundry detergent and coffee. Smell familiar. She’s comfortable here. It’s why she lets herself begin to cry against your shoulder.

“Awh, sweetheart,” you whisper, hands running up and down her back, soothing her like a baby.

“What did the feedback say?” “Have to change the whole thing. And I have enough time, but I have other work.” “Yeah, I can imagine.” “He basically said that if I submit this essay, I’ll fail.” “Well, you won’t, because I’ll hack into the system and change your grade for you.”

Ellie hiccups a laugh, “you know nothing about computers.” “I’ll learn for you. Take some night classes. What’s the essay for?” you ask, still rubbing her back. “English.” “I can help you if you want.” “Yeah?” “Yeah, come to mine. I’ll look through the question with you, and help you plan.”

Ellie pulls away, wiping her wet, red-rimmed eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. You help her, drying the dampness from her chin and cheeks, and smoothing her hair behind her ears.

She beams from your touch. Her body goes hot from your care -- belly flips over.

You hold her shoulders, keeping her steady, and Ellie thanks the Gods you texted her that day. Your smile is resolute as you say, “It’ll be okay. We got this.”

When you open the door to your accommodation, Ellie is mid panic attack. “You live in a sorority?” she squeaks. When you sent her the address earlier, she hadn’t really read it, too busy trying to calm her beating heart. Going to her house going to her house.

Now, she’s standing in front of you, and thinking – this is your house? There’s a teardrop chandelier hanging behind you, and the staircase loops around the entrance hall, feeding into the back of the house.

You frown, confused. “Yeah, did I not tell you?” “No – “Ellie bursts, clearly flustered, “-- you failed to provide me with that information.” She makes a mental note to text Dina, simply – what the fuck, man? “Is it a problem?” you wonder, leaning against the doorframe, comfortable in your home. (Wearing pyjama shorts and a baggy top, you know, comfortable)

You didn’t seem like a sorority girl. But what did that even mean?

You did have a lot of…spirit.

Ellie imagines you hosting mixers and philanthropy events.

(Imagines you wearing a lot of pink and jumpers with your sorority name on it and nothing else.) “I don’t really sell to frats or sororities,” she explains, because, yeah, that’s the reason she’s having a hot moment. She thought she knew a lot about you. This, right here, is a big deal, and yet she’s only now just finding out.

What else did she not know about you? You think for a quick second. “Oh. Well,” you smile, patting your chest, concluding, “I’m the exception,” and you take her hand and pull her in, closing the door behind her.

When Ellie’s in the house, she doesn’t let go of your hand.

Instead, she uses it to tug you closer, and your wrist pushes into her belly. “They let queer girls into sororities?” she whispers, close enough to taste the mint gum you’re chewing.

Ellie has ideas of girls on the straight and narrow. No girl kissing here, unless guys are watching. Ellie cringes at the cliché, but you’re not offended – hadn’t heard her thoughts, so, that would be why – as your lips pull into a sly smile.

You lean forward, a ghost of a kiss. Ellie’s throat squeezes. “They don’t know that I’m a queer girl,” you whisper back, the heat of your eyes all-consuming.

Ellie watches you shrug.

“They don’t know that at least a quarter of them are queer girls, but – they’re not ready for that conversation.” “But you’re out, no?” Ellie quickly stumbles. If you’re not out, then that really messes with her plans to marry you and meet all your family. “Yeah,” you shrug again, explaining, “they just haven’t asked,” as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. In some ways, Ellie guesses, it is. She beams, “Well, they’ll ask when they see you hanging with me.” “What, why?” “Because I’m a known queer girl” “Oh, you have a reputation?” you quirk, and Ellie hums, “It’s possible I may have fooled around with some of your sorority sisters.” You chew on your lip, and cock your head to the side, “But did you share a really weird and intimate high with them where you cuddled all night, woke up mid-orgasm and then it made things super weird and odd to the point where you never really spoke about it again?”

Ellie grins, “No.” You shrug, “Oh, well. I win then,” and take her hand and begin to drag her behind you like a lost puppy dog.

She’s behind you on the stairs again, and you catch her staring when you turn to say, “Let’s go to my room.” As you drag her through the house, Ellie doesn’t see anyone, but she does hear the ominous sound of girl giggles and whispering. Heat blooms in her cheeks, as if she’s got omniscient eyes at the back of her head.

Ellie didn’t get along with peppy girls – too full of inner turmoil to match their happy-go-lucky attitude. The thought makes her clutch your hand tighter, and she speeds up, bumping her shoulders with yours.

“So, what’re the rules?” “Huh?” you ask, looking at her funny. The pair of you pass a group photo, and Ellie wants to stop and gawk – try and find your smiling face – but you tug her along, sensing her motives. “Like,” Ellie starts, stuck on her phrasing. “How should I be around you?” You frown up at her, deciphering her meaning. Slowly, your frown loosens. A small smile pushes into the side of your cheek. You squeeze her hand.

“Just be my Ellie.”

The pair of you go through Ellie’s question, and you help her write up a plan, noting all of her points and the quotes she should use.

Ellie tries to focus, but the whole time she’s thinking about how close you are to her – leaning against her, pushing your shoulder into hers.

She’s sitting on your bed in your room, and she’s hot all over as a result – smelling the scent from your burning candle and listening to the soft music you’re playing out of the laptop speaker.

Your walls are covered in posters. Pictures of you with family and friends and Ellie is surrounded by so much you that it feels like it’s always been like this.

Always been in your room, with her head on your lap, listening to your playlist – Ellie’s got Shazam out, but you’re just sending her the link. On her main phone, now – no busted one at the bottom of her bag.

She’s so busy being with you that she’s not wondering what she’s doing with you.

What are we? She wants to ask, but then your roommate decides to come in.

She pauses in the doorway, flinching as if she’s walked in on something intimate.

Ellie watches your eyes widen an inch, but then you catch yourself, smiling and waving. “Hey,” you greet, and your roommate – actually wearing a hoodie with your university name on it -- smiles, “Sorry, just grabbing my charger.”

“No problem,” you respond, and when she finally flicks her gaze to Ellie – kept on looking around her, like she was panhandling for money on the subway – her smile loosens.

She’s silent as she grabs her wire from her bed and doesn’t look at the pair of you as she leaves. When she’s out of the door, you get up and lock it. Coming back, Ellie gets comfy on your lap again.

“Did she look at me funny?” She’s not sure what your relationship with her is like, so she steps carefully. “I think she fancies me,” you casually explain, and Ellie’s belly flops.  “For real?” You nod, wiggling your brows. “Should I be jealous?” she jokes, and your lips curl, tongue peeking out as you run it across the backs of your teeth. “We were together, once.” Ellie tries to imagine the pair of you together, and she comes up blank. Though, that’s probably because she’s too busy editing the image to clip her face in. “Yeah?” “Mm, at a Halloween party.” You’re grinning too wide. “You’re just fucking with me,” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “I’m not! I was dressed as a cat, and she was this like, sexy nun or something.” “Really?” Ellie asks, raising a brow and pulling a face that says, you’re full of shit. “Fine – I won’t tell you then.” “No no, I wanna hear this.” “What’s with the tone? I thought you’d for sure want to hear about my sexual escapades.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” You pull your lips together and raise a brow. Ellie suddenly feels too hot. Suddenly wants to run very quickly out of your bedroom door. Butterflies swirl in her belly, blood rushes to her cheeks, to her neck, and she feels the tips of her toes go numb.

You’ve danced around each other with this flirty banter for a while now, but it means something more now that you’ve said it out in the open.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ellie lies, hoping the red of her cheeks isn’t too prominent in the warm glow of your bedroom. You don’t lose your pursed lips, and Ellie rolls her eyes.

“Just hurry up and tell me about how you fucked your roommate.” “Say please,” you quickly rebut, and Ellie chokes.

The fuck? “What?” She laughs nervously, ignoring the quick electric bolt that shot through her groin, “fuck off.” “Fine,” you bleat, leaning back against the bedframe. “I won’t tell you then,” and Ellie shakes her head, proclaiming, “You’re insane,” and you grin at her, raising a testy brow, “It’s just manners, Ellie.”

When Ellie had imagined the dynamics of your relationship – but not relationship – it was you saying please. Preferably whispering it with your fingers in her auburn hair. Please Ellie, please do that again.

Ellie sits up from your lap, shaking the image away.

She takes in the curve of your brow, and the teasing slip of your lips. She dips closer – sudden, quick – and relishes in the way your mouth falls open an inch.

“I’m not begging you,” she whispers, not bothering to hide how mesmerised she is by your mouth.

“No?” you speak, matching her lazy tone. You nod to her, “I thought you’d be into that.”

Jesus fucking Christ, what’s happening right now? Ellie thought you’d help plan her essay and be done with it – she’d hoped for some flirty banter, but this was different. This was… Ellie leans closer, propped up by her hand that she’s planted beside your thigh. “If I say please, I want intricate detail.” “If you say please, I’ll give you whatever you want.” This girl…

“Whatever I want?” Ellie quirks. “Yeah,” you respond, and you press your forehead against hers, tone breathy as you repeat, “Whatever you want.”

Ellie can think of a lot of things she wants. For starters, she wants to close this gap and finally kiss you, but she says, “Please tell me your story,” and you smile, all teeth.

“It was Halloween.” “You said that.” “n, we were really drunk, and she’s like – straight straight, right?” You say straight like someone would say sorry. “Mm,” Ellie hums, her belly swirling. She hasn’t moved a fucking inch. Her palm is cramping, but hell if she’s going to lean away from you right now. This is a whole other kind of foreplay. “We’re in the bathroom.” “Here?” she asks, needing details – information. What day was it? Time?

You nod, and your nose brushes against hers. Her face blooms red again, and the brush of your touch makes her brain fuzzy. “We’re making out, and I thought she only wanted to kiss, but then she starts tryna take my top off.”

There’s a sincere edge to your tone. Your eyes are wistful, but you’re beaming – spurred by the excitement evident in Ellie’s eyes.

“Things get heated. She’s touching me everywhere, you know, hands just, between my legs, on my chest. Says she’s wanted me for ages but couldn’t say it, I mean, she’s got a boyfriend.” “A boyfriend?” Ellie asks, and fuck, that makes it worse. Or better? Either way, her body begins to ache like it did that morning – when it was just the pair of you and the world was quiet. Thrums electric and Ellie’s suddenly worried about the electric bill. “Yeah – frat boyfriend. Frat president boyfriend.” “Look at you, miss home wrecker.” You roll your eyes, “you want me to finish the story?” “I said please, didn’t I?” “You’re the worst.” “So…she’s taking your top off.” “Yeah. Then she’s taking my pants off, too. Then says, she’s never been with a girl before, can I show her?” Ellie pulls back with a groan. She can’t help it. Pulls back and falls into your lap, imagining you showing her how to fuck.

Her eyes are glazed over, like she’s somewhere else, thinking, about something else. She rubs her face and listens to your sweet giggle.

“Sorry,” she says, settling back, and you hold your hands up.

“No worries, take your time.”

Ellie waits – patiently. Waiting for you to divulge more information. Please carry on, she thinks. Please please please.

She feels like a kid at camp listening to the teens tell a ghost story around the campfire. And then what?

“You made her come?” she whispers, failing to hide the excitement in her whisper. A small, thoughtful smile finds your lips, and you lean down, hair brushing over her face.

Your thigh pushes into the back of her head, and you smell like a forest.

Your room smells like a fucking forest. Pine and vanilla.

The lights are dim, cloaking the room in a warm glow. She swears she hears trees swaying in the distance, but she realises – faintly – that it’s just the blood rushing in her ears. No trees here, she thinks. No bloody forest.

You’re looking down at her, eyes glittering in the warm light. After a stress-filled silence, you nod, whispering, “against the wall, cat ears still on. Made her come so hard it was dripping down my chin.” “Jesus,” Ellie whispers. Her legs fidget, trying to squirm from the warmth pushing between her thighs. She pushes her hair away from her forehead, even those it’s already tucked behind her ears. “Then what?” she asks, moving in your lap. Then what then what.

Your lips curl into a small smile, “Then we never spoke about it again.”

Ellie feels her eyes go dark with the memory. Imagines a film over them — lost in her own brain. Pictures you crawling on your hands and knees, on the prowl with your cat ears sitting pretty.

What was it you said again? That she was dripping all over your chin?

Her tongue peaks through her lips, pretty in pink, and she notices your small smile curve wider. Though, it’s not kind. It’s edged with something, as if you’ve made a funny and she doesn’t get the joke.

Ellie’s belly drops.

A laugh bursts out of your mouth, and she freezes. Nononononono, you didn’t. “I’m sorry—” you start, hiding your smile, and Ellie’s lips open in shock, then she’s snapping to -- jumping up from your lap, red all over.

She’s looking for her coat, hands shaking “nah, that’s not funny,” she’s saying, all while the faux image of you between a girl’s thighs buzzes behind her eyes.

It was her. She was the girl. She’d even imagined taking your cat ears off and putting them on her head. “Yeah, it was – Ellie,” you laugh, reaching for her hand, and Ellie’s body reacts to the touch.

You spin her into you, pouting, “Come onnnnn, I was playing.” “You’re mean for making that up. You’re a horrible person.” “Awhhh, I’m sworry. I’m sworry, come here –” You pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her neck. Be mad. Ellie thinks. Be mad be mad be mad—oh, but you’re so soft and warm.

She falls into you, hands catching your hips — holding you steady, as her head pushes into the curved gap between your throat and shoulder. You hold the back of her neck, hugging her close.

“I’m sorry, that was mean.” “Made me all worked up,” Ellie admits. The all-familiar ache is back. Then again, it’s never far when you’re around. “Yeah?” you quirk, the tone saying: tell me all about it. “Mm.” “Thinking about me with another girl?” She breathes a laugh, then breathes in your scent, the smell causing her to hold your hips tighter.

“You gotta write my essay now, make it up to me.” Your laugh rattles against her body.

“What you on about? I gave you free material to think about.” “What?” she laughs, squinting her face together. She pulls away, and you look up at her, chewing on your bottom lip.

You glance down at her mouth, and a breath gets caught in her throat. “Nothing,” You grin, and she cocks her head to the side, tightening her grip on your waist. “No, tell me. You made fun of me, you gotta tell me.” “I don’t have to do anything, Ellie.” “I’ll get it outta you.” “Yeah, how?” “You won’t know until it happens.”

“Weirdo,” you scoff, pulling away. “Let me walk you home, they wanna do a group meeting about some charity event later.” “Ooo, little miss sorority girl.”

You smack her chest, “Hey!” but Ellie grabs your hand, laughing as she pulls you into her, catching your hips again. You gasp in surprise, hands catching hers, and your chest pushes into hers.

She feels you focus on the cavern of her eyebrow scar, then the dust of freckles over her nose. The wild brush of her eyebrows, and the small, circular, chickenpox scar on her cheek.

Ellie gets confident or forgets the proximity of your relationship — nothing new — and rests her forehead against yours.

The world gets quiet.

The buzz of your music fades out, and all Ellie can hear is the small, clipped, and shaky sound of your breathing.

Your eyes flutter closed for a brief second, and Ellie wants to kiss you. Always wants to kiss you, but this is different. This is new and sudden and sweet. It’s soft. Gentle.

Your fingers graze over hers, and she imagines holding you like this forever.

Imagines doing this, as often as she likes.

All you’ve done together, and you haven’t even kissed yet. Ellie gazes at your wet mouth.

“Wanna come to mine? We don’t even have to smoke; you can just help me with the intro to my essay.” Your lips twist, and a small smile appears. “Ellie,” you whisper, tinged with a double meaning. “What?” she asks, feigning innocence. “I can’t,” you whisper.

She breathes in deep, eyes closing as she presses her forehead against yours. “Not even for a second?” “Ellie.” “Please?” she whispers, looking at you, and your face falls. Your mouth opens an inch, the red of your tongue alluring. When you don’t respond, Ellie slowly dips lower and tentatively brushes her mouth against yours. Your breath catches.

The skin of your lips is pillow soft, and for the first time, she’s able to taste your lip gloss from the source.   “Doesn’t please get me anything I want?” Ellie hushes. The music has bled into the background, a hum in the walls of your room. It rattles through her toes and dances through her chest, forcing her heart to thrum with life. Your eyes are half-lidded, lashes brushing over your cheeks when you look at her mouth. “That was a one-time deal,” you manage to tease, despite the nerves radiating off of you. “So, I can’t kiss you?” “I never said that.”

Your tone is dangerous. Ellie’s lips quirk into a smirk. “I didn’t say please though?”

There’s a heated 30 seconds where you pluck up some courage. Ellie can hear the cogs turning in your pretty little head before you conclude that, “manners are overrated,” and press your cherry lips against hers, sticky and artificially sweet.  

The world stops in that movie magic kind of way.

Reality flutters to a pause, the music switches off, the natter from your roommates downstairs goes quiet, and Ellie can no longer hear the constant anxious beating of her heart.

It’s just you and your mouth – the press of your lips, no tricks, just the delicate touch of yours against hers.

Ellie is 15 again and playing truth or dare at that camp her uncle forced her to go to.

She’s picking dare and kissing Jessica Carter, the daughter of a man that owned a slew of Ice Cream shops in Salt Lake, and it means so much more to Ellie than it does to Jessica.

She feels the electricity of the kiss pulse throughout her body, like she’s got her soapy fingers in a light switch socket, and as she pulls away and Jessica laughs – giggles, cupping her wet lips, I can’t believe we just did that – Ellie feels the cavern in her chest close just an inch.

She was about to thank her, but then she thought better of it.

Pulling away now, there’s no Jessica, it’s you, and you’re pressing your fingers to your lips like you’re holding them out to a cat, nervous as to what’s going to happen next.

Ellie leans her forehead against yours, lips numb.

You’re breathing like you’ve run a marathon. Then you kiss her again.

Ellie stumbles back from the shock, but you move with her, guiding her back until her legs hit the bed frame.

She makes a quick decision – pulls away and gets back onto your bed, hoping you follow her down. Thankfully, you do – quirk a nervous smile and knee walk over to her, spreading your legs and clambering onto her lap.

You sit back on her thighs with your knees pressed against her hips.

The position is a memory re-lived, except this time, you’re both alert – no sleep to mask the feeling, just the nerves pulsating through your veins. New new new, it’s saying.

Ellie reaches out and steadies your hips.

Taking a shaky breath, she slips her thumbs under the fabric of your shirt and runs the length of your shorts. The skin there burns, heat radiating off of you like a furnace, and it’s as if you enjoy the touch, as you take Ellie’s hands and cup them with your own, keeping them against your skin, before dragging them around your hips.

Ellie catches your eyes, breath lodged in her throat.

It stays there while you run her fingers up and under your shirt, painstakingly moving her hands over your stomach, over your rib cage, and Ellie’s heart swells in her chest as the tips of her fingers feel the underwire of your bra.

Ellie can’t decide what she wants.

There are too many options – kiss you, undress you – and she so badly wants all of them all at once. When you finally drag her palms over your breasts, she feels your nipples pressing through the thin and lacey fabric, and her belly swirls, the pressure pushing low.

Your breath rattles in your chest. “You okay?” Ellie asks, and instead of answering, you bow down to kiss her.

This kiss is different. It’s desperate. Tinged with the need to tell Ellie it's okay, it's okay, as you slip your tongue in her mouth. She groans.

It’s deep and low, echoing around the room, and there’s a fleeting second where Ellie is embarrassed, but you swallow the sound down, hips reacting, pressing into her crotch.

Ellie aches with the memory of before.

She wants to tease you, wants to say, you gonna come like this again? but you drag your lips over to her neck, and she whines pathetically.

Oh fuck, she thinks. Ellie goes liquid, like syrup. She melts into the mattress, hands relax on your breasts, and just – lets you pepper kisses over her throat. Let’s you run your tongue under her jaw, and her hips buck in response. Jolt up into your crotch, and your breathing changes, now coming out in long, deep pulls.

You mark her neck with your mouth, and Ellie feels the suck of your lips in her gut. Her hands go exploring, sliding over your tits, and she rubs her thumbs over your nipples, listening for your breathing stutter.

When you mumble a desperate fuck, into her throat, Ellie suddenly wants you on your back.

She knocks the pair of you over, and you fall back onto your mattress, grinning up at Ellie with a wild smile. You take her in. Eyes flutter over her like butterflies, taking in her statue as she sits on top of you. Suddenly, though, your smile changes. Goes nervous.

“What does this mean for us?” you whisper, and Ellie shakes her head, moving to kiss you again. Now on top, she swells with the feeling of control.

“Don’t think about it,” she mumbles, then tastes cherry again.

Ellie’s a hypocrite because all she does is think about it.

Up all night in bed, thinking about it. Thinking about how she wants you as her girlfriend, but she hasn’t even taken you out on a date yet.

Doesn’t know about your family. Your friends. Doesn’t know your favourite movie, or colour. All she knows is your weed order. The thought makes her sick with shame.

The mumble of her name coming out of your lips brings her back.

You stuff her shirt in your hands, and Ellie wants it off.

Wants your hands all over her, wants to grind her hips into yours like you did hers, with your hands on her hips guiding her.

“Wanna see,” you mumble, tugging at her shirt, and Ellie’s skin prickles.

She drags her hips back, the seam of her jeans pushing against her crotch, and sits up straight. She grins, all teeth, then fists the shirt, pulling it up her chest. The lines of her muscles are revealed, along with a few white scars that dot her stomach and back. She’s wearing a casual cotton bra, but you look at her as if she’s donning silk. “So pretty,” you whisper, blinking up at her, and that shame that sat inside of her dispels. You slide your hands over her chest, and the warmth of them pushes into her bloodstream. “Pretty?” Ellie quirks, needing something to distract herself from the languid movement of your hands. You trail your fingers over her ribcage, then push your pointer up her breast bone, mouth open an inch, ignoring her, and Ellie’s limbs go jelly.

You’ve got your goddamn explorer hat on as you drag the base of your palm between her tits, your spare hand lazily rubbing her hip bone.

“What’re you doing?” she asks, words coming out as a breathy whisper. You flash a small smile, “committing you to memory.” A dangerous pressure builds in Ellie’s heart. Her cheeks bloom red, her skin prickles, and she feels light-headed, as if you’ve removed all the oxygen in the room.

You hook a finger around the elastic of her bra and tug her forward. Ellie catches herself on the mattress beside your head just as you kiss her, pushing your tongue into her mouth and crotch up into hers.

She shudders.

The kiss is all tongue, desperate, as she bumps her nose against yours to taste you. She’s preoccupied with your mouth, so she doesn’t notice your hand sliding between her thighs. When she does, she forgets how to kiss. “S-Shit,” Ellie stutters, caught off guard. Your touch is gentle, just, lazily rubbing your fingers into her jeans. There’s a lot of fabric between you, thus Ellie’s left the chase the friction.

Resting her forehead against yours, she clutches the sheets beside you, rolling her hips into your hand. She blinks at you, opening her eyes, and you’re staring at her like she’s an artwork – trying to memorise every brush stroke.

You bump your nose against hers, flexing your palm. Ellie hums again.

“You sure you wanna do that?” she jokes, clutching onto any semblance of sanity. You give her a lazy smile, lips wet with her spit. “’s ’only fair.

“Not –” Ellie starts, but chokes, your knuckle just hitting the top of her pussy. Her eyes flutter closed, mouth opening an inch, and you must sense the shift, because you keep your hand there, nodding, knowing what she was going to say before she said it.

“Gonna make you come 'cause I want to, not ‘cause I have to.” “Fuck – okay,” Ellie relents. There’s no way she’s going to leave in the middle of this. She can’t. She’d probably collapse mid-way. A pressure pushes between her thighs, hot and constant. Her pussy clenches around nothing and she whispers something. Sounds like your name.

Been a minute since she’d had a hand other than hers between her legs.

Ellie lazily chases your palm, thinking that If she moves too quickly, this moment will poof into a dream. Doesn’t want to scare it away.

To hide her red face, she nuzzles into your throat, roles reversed from that morning, except Ellie didn’t have her hand between your thighs. She tells herself it’s her turn to do that next.

You pop the button on her jeans, and Ellie glances down at your hands, seeing/feeling them tug at the band.

You turn into her head, “Jesus, these painted on or something?” and Ellie breathes a laugh, “Didn’t expect someone else taking them off.” “I need easy access from now on, only sweatpants.” “Noted.” Your smile goes silly, “preferably those grey ones you wore when I came over that time, when I made you dinner.” “Thought you liked those ones, caught you staring at my ass.” “No you did not.” Ellie kisses your neck, “It’s so sexy when you gaslight me.” You huff, “You gonna help me take them off, or watch me struggle?” and a slow grin builds across Ellie’s face. “Wanna see you work for it.” “Well, you’ll be watching for a while. Enjoy the show!” you joke, trying to drag the denim off of her hips. You grunt loudly, brow furrowed as you tug.

Finally, you throw your hands up with a huff, then pout and cross your arms. Ellie’s leaned back at this point, and she mimics your face.

“Defeated by The Gap,” Ellie sighs. “I’m gonna put in a complaint. Tell them that their stupid jeans stopped my girlf—” you catch yourself, eyes widening.

Ellie goes still.

There’s a second where she hears the crowd cheering in the background, but it turns out it’s a kid crying on the street outside.

“What did you just say?” she asks, tone filled with awe. She cannot help the shit-eating grin that splays across her face. It’s so big that you have to cover your face from the shine. “I said nothing.” “Um, I heard something.” “You didn’t hear anything.” “I heard the word girl and then an ‘F’ sound.” “You didn’t! I’m telling you; you’re hearing things. Going crazy.” “Ummmmmm,” Ellie drags, squinting down at you.

She tries to pull your hands away, but you won’t budge. “I heard something!” “I was going to say, girl fellow!” “Girl what?” Ellie laughs, eyes alight with humour.

“Yeah—” you start, pulling your hands away and masking your features. You’re a beacon of control.

“Girl fellow. It’s this new thing I coined. A girl who is a fellow, as in friend.” Ellie squints, “Fellow means boy, you weirdo.” “No it—” you frown. “Does it?” “Yes, have you not seen Robin Hood?” You pause, “No.” “Oh my god!” Ellie erupts. “How have you not seen Robin Hood? I used to be obsessed with it.” “Everything makes so much sense now.” “The fuck does that mean?”

You push your hands into her hips, fingers tickling. “Do you have a pointy bow and arrow at home? A little green hat?” “Shut up,” Ellie laughs, trying to bat your hands away. She catches them. “That makes so much sense,” you start, joking around, “You’re far too into social justice.” “How are you bullying me about world change? You just called me your girlfriend!” “Fellow!” you correct. “That means girl boy!” You grin triumphantly, “Welcome to the 21st century, Ellie.” She rolls her eyes, “you’re so annoying.” “Your jeans are annoying.” “My jeans are cute.” You point a finger at her, “I’m gonna fight your jeans.”

Ellie dips low and kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “mm, my money’s on the jeans,” and you wrap your thigh around her ass, using it as leverage to roll her onto her back.

You suddenly slide down, standing at the edge of the bed and shoving your hands into the band of her trousers. With a determined look, you manage to pull them down, “fuck your jeans.”

They end up on the floor, and Ellie’s left in a pair of boxers and her bra. She’d clap for you if she wasn’t so suddenly dazed. You appear on top of her, and she automatically wraps her arms around your shoulders, humming contently as you kiss her.

When her brain comes back to reality, she manages to switch positions again, knees pressing beside your thighs. With a tentative touch, you trace your hand over her stomach, distracting her with the wet of your kiss.

When your fingers touch the band of her underwear, Ellie’s breathing changes. It’s all suddenly real.

“Wanna stop?” you breathe, tone sincere and gaze gentle. Despite the bubble in her chest, Ellie has never wanted to continue something more. She shakes her head, eager. “Fuck no.”

Your sweet giggle distills the tension. “Good,” you grin, sliding your fingers lower, “wanted to do this since I met you.”

The tips of your fingers drag over her clothed pussy, gentle and soft. Ellie releases a shaky breath.

There’s just a piece of flimsy cotton stopping you from skin on skin, but she’s so wet that it feels that way, anyway.

Her eyes flutter closed, the sensation lulling her, fueling her with dopamine, and she buries her head in the crook of your neck, flexing her hips to meet your hand.

You drag the corner of your knuckle up her clothed slit, pushing into her clit when you get to the top. Ellie groans quietly, and you grin into the side of her head, rolling your knuckle into her, and she moans.

“Fuck, s’good.” “Yeah?” you ask, and Ellie nods. Propelled by her quiet desperation, you twist your hand and push a finger against her damp clit – the wet fabric showing the lines of her pussy – and roll it gently.

The fabric in the way makes it dirtier, more desperate, and makes Ellie moan pathetically into your neck, forgetting you’ve got roommates. She chases your hand.

Hips stir up, wet heat coiling in her belly and pushing into her cunt. Is this what you felt? That morning in her apartment?

The fire is quick to rise, and it’s only been a couple of minutes of her grinding into your palm when her pussy clenches, heat pushing at the back of her clit.

“Mm,” she hums, inhaling a shaky breath. Her thighs begin to shake. “Baby, you’re gonna make me come,” she hushes into your ear, and she swears she hears you whimper. You turn to look at her, and pout, “Want it on my fingers, Ellie,” you admit, eyes innocent, wide with wonder, and Ellie’s jaw clenches.

Her hips lose their rhythm, and how the fuck is she in control right now? She doesn’t feel that way. Feels like she lost any semblance of control when you flipped her over and pulled her jeans off. “Fuck, okay. Okay. Shit. Take my – fuck,” she stumbles, and you push your fingers under the band of her underwear, asking, “Can I?” in such a pure tone that Ellie has to close her eyes and breathe through her nose. “Yeah baby,” she nods, “s’okay. Fuck. It’s okay.”

You drag your fingers through her pubic hair – eyes on her the whole time – before you stuff your pointer and index against her wet clit. You start to roll the nerve, and Ellie chokes on her spit. Her body shudders.

She’s in your goddamn dorm room in your sorority with your hand down her pants.

You’re watching her intently. Glazed eyes gazing at her features, fingers controlling the way her brows furrow and cheeks bloom red. It’s wholly intimate. Ellie’s slick coats your fingers.

“So hot, Ellie.”

Her body flushes – she has to bury her head in your neck again, where she nods. She grinds her cunt into your hand, forcing you to press harder and roll quicker. “Mm, fuck,” Ellie swears, spit dribbling over her lips, drunk on your fingers, “Fuck, m’ gonna come.” She feels the familiar pressure behind her clit, the heat that sears – almost painful. You twist into her, nodding, saying, “Give it to me El’s.” Then, “please.”

The wave rushes up and pulls her under, rendering her voiceless and still, before it crashes, and she gushes over your hand, chasing the spin of your fingers as she shakes. “Mm, god, god, shit” she whimpers, voice muffled by your neck, trying so hard to keep quiet, but fuck, she’s not in control of her body. She clenches the duvet as her pussy clenches and un-clenches, clit spasming, whole body slick with sweat.

Her hips grind into your fist, eyes rolled back, mumbling curses into your throat, and she’s clenching the duvet so tight that her knuckles go white.

Then someone calls your name.

You freeze. Fingers go still.

Ellie wants to cry, but somewhere in her drunk mind, she realises the severity of the situation.

When you don’t respond, your name gets called again.

“Fuck,” you curse, then “Ellie, baby, I’m sorry, you gotta get off of me.”

Ellie manages to find the energy to roll off of you, and you get up, legs stumbling before you reach the door.

“Y-Yeah?” you call out through the wood.

Ellie lays boneless on your bed, breathing deeply through her nose. Her boxers are pushed low, pubic hair on show, but she doesn’t have the power to sort herself out.

She should be nervous at the idea of being caught, but fuck, her clit still throbs with the memory of your fingers. She languidly blinks at the ceiling, trying to calm her heart.

How the fuck did that just happen?

“Meeting soon, you coming?” the faceless voice calls, and you mumble a curse before saying, “Yeah! Gimmie a minute.”

When you turn to her, Ellie’s already gazing at you. You quirk a small, sad smile, and Ellie nods, understanding.

“Lemme just,” she starts, rubbing her face, “find the energy.” You giggle at her. “Let me help you put your stupid jeans on.” Ellie props herself up by her elbows, beaming, “My top down there, too?” “Got it.”

She manages to shove her jeans on, wincing when she knocks her sensitive clit. You eye her.

“Listen, I—” you start, clearly flustered. You motion to her, “—Would take better care of you after but.” “Whoa – what?” Ellie cuts you off, shoving her shirt on with a frown.

You purse your lips, “like, cook you dinner or kiss your forehead or something.” “You’ve already cooked me dinner, and you can kiss my forehead whenever you want.” “I mean. I don’t usually make a girl come and then dip.” “Oh,” Ellie frowns, “But this is different.” You pout, “Still feel bad.” “Don’t,” Ellie firmly spouts. She takes your hands and kisses your forehead. “I feel good, you should feel good.” “It was good?” you ask, suddenly lit up and eager to hear more. Ellie laughs. Her body is filled with a warm, buttery feeling. She’s still drunk on you, lethargic from coming, and she doesn’t have the space to panic.

Her subconscious tries to tell her everything that has happened that should cause her concern.

She nearly called you her girlfriend, then made you come on her double bed with a flowery bedspread. Now she feels bad because she doesn’t have enough time to give you adequate aftercare. Dude.

Still, Ellie shows no alarm when she kisses your forehead and says, “I’ll call you.”

It’s only when she gets home, looks in the mirror and sees her lips glittery with your lip-gloss, that reality sets in.

[theaccidentfactory]

After amphibia, Anne and Marcy struggle, and despite working on being vulnerable, Sasha feels like she has to be the strong one yet again for them. She holds them while they cry, encourages them to go to therapy, helps them get out of bed when they have bad days, all while laying awake at night and biting her fingernails so intensely her hands bleed while listening to her parents argue over the phone in the next room. She can't shake the feeling that she's still in the middle of an active war with an entire rebellion and her best friends' lives on her 13 year old shoulders. Anne and Marcy talk about how they admire Sasha for being so brave and strong, but they both secretly worry about her. But a lot goes unsaid in the early days after amphibia, because they're all trying their hardest to keep it together for each other. Sasha still hadn't really cried about everything that happened, how could she when she still feels like one moment of weakness will result in her friends' deaths? It's not that she doesn't feel sad, she doesn't know if she's capable of feeling anything else these days, but there is a mental block stopping the tears from actually coming. She doesn't feel safe in public or at her mom's house or her dad's apartment. She only feels safe around Anne and Marcy, but she can't cry around them, she's supposed to be strength, like the prophecy said. So she settles for throwing everything she has into making sure they stay safe and healthy. This tactic works, for a while, until one Saturday night when they all have a sleepover at Anne's house. Her back aches from the old wound and even though she knows it's fully healed, she swears she can feel the scar on her face bleed. They play typical teen sleepover games and eat large amounts of pizza and mint chip ice cream, and then it's time for bed. She helps Marcy take off her walking braces and put on her night ones, and reminds Anne to take her medication and soon enough she feels tired. She's afraid to sleep, worried about nightmares, but she hadn't had a good night's sleep in nearly 3 weeks, so she feels exhausted. Tucked into Anne's bed where she had spent so many nights while her parents hashed out the custody situation in court or went on first dates, she starts to fall asleep. The last thing she hears is Anne and Marcy quietly laughing at some cat video on Anne's brand new phone.

She doesn't remember the dream that wakes her up, she never does, just the feeling that she had somehow failed and everyone is facing the consequences. The first thing she registers is her throat producing a terrified scream. The next is feeling like she was trapped, so she thrashes around in bed, landing a few punches on the wall, earning just a sickening crack as her knuckles slammed into the rough paint. She couldn't see, couldn't breathe, and all she knew was that she needed to make sure Anne and Marcy were safe. Nothing else mattered, she didn't even matter, all that mattered is that her girls were okay.

She jumped and thrashed some more as a sudden light blinded her. She didn't scream this time, she had trained herself to not scream regardless of what was happening in order to not make herself an easy target. She felt like she was underwater as she heard her name.

She felt a hand grab the wrist that was making contact with the wall, and was about to swing in the direction of the contact when she saw it. Lime green nail polish. No one in amphibia wore that color nail polish. But Marcy did. She forced her eyes to move upward, and she made contact with Marcy's eyes. Not the ones staring her down behind the helmet as she raised the scythe, but the ones she grew up with, deep brown, that were now filled with concern.

She took a deep breath and suddenly became aware of another hand in her hair. It was her own hand, gripping her hair so tightly it was cutting off the circulation in her fingers. She saw Anne's hand going to her head, and tried not to notice how worried she looked as she gently unhooked Sasha's fingers from her own hair. Anne said something Sasha couldn't process, but it didn't matter. Her melodic voice with just a hint of the Southern California vocal fry she always swore she didn't have was enough to put her at least a little bit more at ease.

Slowly, she emerged from her panic and fear. Anne kept holding her hand, and as she came back, she could hear Anne telling her about how Domino had gotten stuck under the couch earlier that day. It wasn't anything important, but she could feel herself focusing on the story, rather than the overwhelming feeling to run or fight.

Marcy smiled at her, and ran circles around her wrist with her thumb. In that moment, there was the typical guilt associated with making them take care of her, but for the first time since leaving Grime, she felt... Seen. And very loved.

Later, she wouldn't be able to explain why that feeling was the one that triggered the tears she had been repressing for months, but she burst into tears. She cried, more like ugly sobbed. She started to turn her head into the pillow to muffle the cries and prevent her friends from seeing her, but Anne pulled her into a warm hug, wrapping her long arms around her and holding her as close as possible. As she sobbed into Anne's chest, ruining her cat printed pajama shirt with tears and snot and spit, she felt Marcy position the front of her body against the back of hers, meeting Anne's arms wrapping themselves around Sasha's shaking hyperventilating body. She cried and cried until her head ached and tears wouldn't come out of her eyes anymore, and when she stopped and her breaths slowed, she felt a glass of water being pressed against her lips, and since it was held by Marcy, she drank.

She hiccuped uncontrollably and struggled to find the right breathing pattern, but eventually she did fall asleep, sandwiched in between Anne and Marcy, feeling warm and vulnerable, but not necessarily in a dangerous way.

The next morning, she woke up in the same position as she had fallen asleep in, still being embraced by her loves. Her face was stained with tears and her throat was dry and sore, but she felt better than she had in a really long time, perhaps in her entire life.

That morning, Anne made them all pancakes.

[thecat620]

Blitz and Performance Anxiety

From the latest Helluva Boss short, it seems like Blitz isn't very good at performing...certain acts when under pressure. Moxxie was able to activate the crystal by...pleasuring it since it's from Lust. Even Blitz was impressed and possibly turned on by it.

Now people are thinking he might not've been a good top if he couldn't pleasure in certain ways but I think there's more to this than what's on the surface. He isn't a selfish lover but he might be self-conscious about how he performs because if he isn't the best, he can't perform well.

I think this episode takes place after Apology Tour since he's under a lot of stress and trying to get used to the crystal being a part of his life. Stolas doesn't want to see him right now and he has a lot to figure out about himself after that talk with Verosika. His mental state isn't in the best place so he's gonna have his off moments.

But to be fair to him here, it was very cold and they were under a lot of stress from being attacked by killer penguins so he's gonna be a bit off.

And I think performance anxiety started when he was young at the circus.

Blitz was trying his hardest to make a balloon horse but the more he failed, the more flustered he got. When he made "Worm Horse", he was happy he got something and Stolas was happy from the jokes he made, giving Blitz a bit of an ego boost. But Fizz unintentionally coming in to show him up with his perfect balloon animal no doubt hit him in the ego and hurt him since his crush was getting more attention.

If he isn't perfect, I think he gives up too easily.

Also I want to point out something from the selfie he had with Verosika when they were still dating.

Notice the bags under his eyes? I think being with her was a lot more exhausting than what was let on. She even mentioned he was the "fun guy" while they were dating and that no doubt was tiring for him trying to keep that up constantly. He was mentioned as a partier but that much drinking and partying can take a lot out of a person.

Not to mention she is a Succubus so when they do the deed, that is gonna take a lot of energy out of him even with his stamina lasting a long time. If his performance isn't the best afterwards and he should've try a bit more, you can understand if he's not at peak perfection in the bedroom.

And I don't quite believe entirely her saying he was that bad in the bedroom. If things were going that well in her mind to the point where she said she loved him, I think their time in the bedroom wasn't as bad as she was claiming. When he broke up with her, I'm thinking she used a lot of the bad moments with him as ammo to try and tear him down to make herself feel better.

Plus with her personality, she might've been bossy in bed too but we'll probably learn more about that later. The reason for the break-up is 50/50 in terms of fault after all. I'm thinking when things were bad, they really were bad. They probably said and did things that hurt each other.

But I think what's really telling is how Blitz reacted when Stolas gave him the crystal.

He was desperate and begged he could do better. He didn't want to lose Stolas even if in that moment all he cared about was "the book". He was in tears and begging not to lose this since sex and killing were what he was best at or what made him feel like he mattered.

If he couldn't do those, who was he?

I think it isn't even he's not eager to do oral. In the song at the beginning of The Full Moon, he was eager to eat Stolas out so it isn't that he won't do that act but if he gets in his own head too much, he won't be able to perform that well. And he does pay attention to Stolas's preferences in bed when he's talking to the clerks in Lust, he's focused on what would make Stolas feel good. Blitz tells Fizz that Stolas isn't into beads, showing he does pay attention to him.

When you're lost in your own head and self-loathing, it can be hard to see anything else around you but Stolas has helped him get past that in some capacity. Blitz is happy to get back in the sack with Stolas and wants it to be a good night after a few months of not being in bed together. He is slowly realizing that he cares for Stolas and is on track for falling in love with him but his own traumas and self-loathing make it hard for him to realize that someone does genuinely want him for him and not just to get something out of him.

It hurt a lot but Apology Tour did give Blitz the wakeup call he needed to try and be better for himself and those around him. It's gonna be a long journey but taking that first step is a good start.

[keerysfreckles]

his neighbor — peter parker

pairing: tom!peter x f!reader

summary: after everyone forgot who peter parker is, peter had to move into a new apartment. the only problem with the new apartment is his happy-go-lucky neighbor.

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, maybe a couple curse words, a bit of angst (its sad peter okay!)

—

being the friendly neighborhood spiderman was easy.

being peter parker however, was quite the opposite.

it's been two and a half months since the world had forgotten who peter is. of course they still remember spiderman, but that didn't make peter feel any better. he misses his best friend. he misses his girlfriend. he misses the avengers. most of all, he misses his aunt may. her death hit him the hardest after the events with the other peters.

going into his empty apartment every night, being met with his bed and bare cupboards didn't exactly lift his spirits.

don't even get peter started about his neighbor across the hall. she always left her apartment when he did, and would be the first to start a conversation. tonight was no different.

"hey peter," y/n smiles towards her neighbor, before turning her key to unlock her front door.

all peter does is send a nod back, making y/n's smile falter slightly. "how was your day?" y/n asks.

"fine," peter grumbles after finally unlocking his door, and he slams it in y/n's face. the action makes the girl jump, even though this wasn't their first interaction like this.

as y/n made her way through her apartment she thought to herself, what could she have done to make peter so upset at her. she's been nothing but nice to him since he moved in a few months ago.

she even gave him a batch of chocolate chip cookies in one of her favorite containers when he first moved in. she still hasn't gotten that container back.

y/n finally drops the topic of her neighbor from her head after sitting on her bed with her favorite series displayed across her tv.

across the hall peter could barely feel his feet. his college classes seemed to last even longer than normal today. but to make his day even better he missed the train after his final class. so the thirty minute walk back to his apartment was really the icing on the cake.

he flung himself onto his twin bed and let out a sigh he knew he was holding in all day.

—

the following day was no different for peter. well, except he forgot to unlock his window before he left for his heroic duties.

peter punched the brick wall outside his window, as he clung to it with his other hand and feet. he absolutely didn't have the patience for the mishap. reluctantly, peter swung down the side of the building and was lucky to find his dark blue backpack he keeps hidden away under unused trashcans. he slips the outfit on that was inside the backpack before walking into the lobby of his apartment complex.

peter was so wrong when he thought his neighbor would've been in her apartment at this time of night.

yet here she was, with a grocery bag in hand and a key in the other.

"hi peter," y/n smiled again. her smile faltered before peter could even get a response out. "peter what happened?" she was quick to notice the black and blue mark starting to form around his eye, and the dark red blood splayed across his knuckles.

"it's nothing," peter simply responds.

"peter obviously it's not nothing. do you need help? anything?"

peter turns to y/n, and for the first time since he moved in, he actually looked her in the eyes. they were a different color than he thought they'd be, and he noticed how sincere she actually sounded about wanting to help.

peter hasn't been helped in a long time.

all he does is nod, since he's too scared to speak as his voice might fail him, and tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

peter unlocks his door and hears y/n's footsteps behind him. the girl takes a look around his apartment. the layout is similar to her own. the small kitchen in the corner when you walk in, with an even smaller living room, and barely a bedroom off to the side. the walls were painted a dark blue color, different than original color peter was first met with.

y/n followed peter to his bedroom, where he layed down and let out a hiss, as his back came into contact with his bed.

"where do you keep a first aid kit?" y/n asks, and follows peter's direction as he's pointing to the small bathroom connected to his room. y/n comes back quickly with the first aid kit, open, in hand. "can i?" y/n motions toward the kitchen, in need of water and paper towels. peter simply nods.

less than a minute passes until y/n's back in peter's bedroom, with all the supplies layed out on his bed.

"what hurts?" y/n asks.

"uh- my eye obviously," peter lets out a small chuckle, "my hands and my back."

y/n grabs the liquid ice pack from the first aid kit and is quick to get it in the freezer for peter's eye. she holds out her hand in return for peter's own. she tries her best to be gentle about getting the dried blood off his fingers, noticing the small noises peter lets out due to his pain. y/n can't help but apologize over and over whenever she hears peter's groans.

once y/n's satisfied with how peter's hands looked, she steps back into the kitchen for the ice pack. before stepping back into peter's room, y/n's eyes fell on an all too familiar pink container on peter's counter. her heart warmed seeing it was empty. so he did enjoy the cookies.

no words were spoken as she hands it to peter, before he carefully puts it over his left undereye.

"you uh-" y/n stammers, "you're gonna have to take your shirt off so i can get to your back."

"oh, right," peter remembers. he takes off his stretched out high school t-shirt and throws it somewhere in his room. y/n takes in the gash on his upper back, and the other scars littering his pale skin.

"what happened?" y/n finally asks, now curious to how peter got all these injuries. the new ones and old.

"it's nothing," peter responds, which only gets a small sigh from y/n. she didn't expect a proper answer from him, so she simply went back to making the boy feel better.

just like with his knuckles, she was quick to wipe the dried blood off his skin. which once again resulted in a few muttered curses leave peter's lips, and many apologies by y/n followed after.

as y/n started placing the gauze and tape over the open wound, both y/n and peter could feel the air in the room becoming thicker. y/n brushed off the feeling after running her fingers over the last piece of tape.

"all done," she smiles softly. "how's your eye?"

peter lifts the ice pack off his skin, and the swelling was surely going down. y/n was now sat in front of peter on his bed while running her thumb gently along the bruise. this time peter doesn't flinch from the pain, but from the contact from his neighbor.

"why have you always been so nice to me? when i've been nothing but a dick to you?" peter asks, his voice soft from the close proximity of the two.

"my mom always said to treat people how you'd want to be treated, since you never know what situation they're in," y/n replies, her eyes never leaving peter's.

"my aunt always said stuff like that," peter responded, his voice getting even softer than before.

"i like the way she thinks," y/n smiles.

a moment of silence pssses between the two. "i'm sorry i've been nothing but mean to you," peter breaks the silence.

y/n shakes her head and her eyesbrows furrow, "you have nothing to be sorry about peter."

peter sighs and nods, yet he doesn't believe y/n's words. "are you okay here on your own for a bit?" y/n removes her hand from peter's cheek before standing up from the bed.

peter nods, "yeah, i'll uh come over if i need anything."

for the first time since peter's moved in, he smiled at y/n. y/n could've sworn her heart was going to leap out of her chest right then and there. ignoring the feeling, she simply leaned down and kissed the boy's forehead.

"bye pete," she sent a smile back, before walking out of his apartment and went inside hers.

peter layed back on the bed, and for the first time in almost three months, he had a real smile on his face.

all from his neighbor.

[shuhwaa]

(G)I-dle | Their favourite way to get you off [M]

(G)I-dle all members x fem-bodied!reader genre: smut (mostly dom!(G)I-dle) warnings: none

Soyeon:

loves nothing more than having your pussy against her tongue, making you cum over and over again

relishes in the taste of you and in the way your begging eventually turns into incoherent whines at the overstimulation and the pleasure

she knows she's good at doing what she does, but damn, hearing and seeing the proof right in front of her turns her on so much

the way your whole body is shaking and your legs are trembling from the multiple orgasms she's already given you is so hot to her

will praise you and then go for one more round, loving the way you taste and how you clench around her tongue

Miyeon:

loves feeling like she can take care of you, but loves it even more if you tell her what to do

whether that's you gently nudging her in the right direction or outright saying what you want - she'll take it and use it to make you feel the best she can

doesn't really matter to her whether she's getting you off with her fingers, her mouth, or something else - so long as you're enjoying yourself

will be on cloud nine if you tell her how good it feels and praise her for how well she's doing

wants you to know you're safe with her, and you can let go for as long as you're in her care

loves watching you as you come undone, and loves holding you close and making sure you're okay afterwards even more

Minnie:

anytime and anywhere

whenever you're in need, she'll give you what you want

will be playful about it and a tease, but she'll always leave you satisfied

loves it when she can have her way with you and try out whatever she's in the mood for that day

loves using toys on you for going multiple rounds the most

switches things up and makes you tell her what feels best to you, might also make you count down from 100 while she gets you off just because she wants to hear the way you lose control over your voice or fail to get to the end

comes up with new ideas on how to play with you all the time and loves exploring how your body reacts to what, and what makes you cum the fastest, hardest, or even multiple times right after each other

Yuqi:

of course she wants you to enjoy yourself, but she also wants to have a little fun with you

loves hearing you beg for it as she edges you multiple times

but she knows that the frustration of denying you your orgasm multiple times will only result in greater pleasure for you when she finally does let you cum, so she makes sure to praise you for how well you're doing, helping you muster the patience needed

but even when she's not putting you through that kind of test, she loves watching closely as you slowly lose your mind underneath her

teases you by slowing down just as you're starting to see your high approaching, with her hungry eyes always glued to your frame

her chest fills with pride when she succeeds in making you cum hard, calling out her name over and over again, and she's right there to hold you and to tell you how well you did as you're coming down from your high

Shuhua:

her favourite way of having you getting off with her is when she can watch you

loves having her fingertips leaving feathery touches all over your body as you ride her thigh and chase your own orgasm

watches with great interest as she makes you get yourself off in whatever way you please, before coming right over to you and proving to you that her hands doing the same things feel so much better

tells you she loves you and wants you to say it back, and she'll reward you with the sweetest kisses all over your body, while she has you chasing yet another orgasm in her hold

loves cumming together with you too, both moaning the other's name as you're touching each other and trying to get the timing just right

but even then, for as long as she can feel close to you, she'll enjoy herself the most

[practical-tactical-brilliance]

I’m Willing to Wait for It. (Part 1)

Aaron Burr x f!reader

Set 5 days before the Battle of Long Island. Reader is a spy working for Washington.

There’s an upsetting lack of Burr x reader fics out there, so this is my contribution to the cause.

———

The young men from the army were a common sight to see, crowded up in the taverns near the docks in New York Harbour. Raucous, pissing themselves and unashamedly eying up the ladies passing by, they were a sight not to behold. You weren’t expecting to stay for long with such company if you could help it.

Brusquely you made a short circuit around the bar, eyes searching the room, but failing to find the familiar face of someone you were meant to meet with here.

Wolf whistles and the occasional lewd commentary followed you as you found yourself a little nook away from the larger crowds where you could wait for your friend. He had a habit of being late after all and you had time to entertain yourself with watching the antics of those solider boys parading themselves about like peacocks.

From the other end of the room, Alexander Hamilton and his friends John Laurens, Lafayette and Aaron Burr watched you with interest. You were new in this establishment which meant that you were an opportunity.

“Say, where’s Mulligan when you need him?” Lauren’s exclaimed. “He’d be kicking himself if he weren’t here to try and talk such a lovely lady into his bed.”

“I daresay that leaves her fair game to the rest of us then. She holds herself gracefully, I bet she must come from money.” Hamilton jokes.

“Who is she and what family does she belong to? I’ve never seen her before.” Burr questioned with intrigue. He gazed over toward her, and somehow, as if she could feel the heat of his eyes on her, she picked him out from the crowd and returned his stare. It was not a stare of charm, or abashed chasteness that greeted him, but more titillating, it was calm and assessing. His first instinct was to turn away in shame, but his experience made him hold her gaze and respond with a light smile. This was his chance.

“I have absolutely no idea either, but maybe you might care to tell us when you two have a little heart to heart over there, Burr? Looks like someone’s caught her eye.” Hamilton cheekily announced to their circle.

“Oui, you should move quickly mon amie, before another one gets the chance to talk to her!” Lafayette was always the brilliant optimist of their circle, pushing people to try their hardest in all sorts of situations even if the odds were against them.

Although Burr was quite sure that the odds would be in his favour this time.

“I’ll be taking my leave tonight then, gentlemen!” He said as he excused himself from the group.

Weaving around the crowded room, toward you, you saw the man who you locked eyes with was fast approaching. Aaron Burr, you noted. You knew of him and his genius predisposition as well as his status as a young man of growing influence. But you also knew from many accounts that he was an opportunist and a rake.

“Excuse me, my lady, I couldn’t help but notice your exquisite face from afar, may I know what sweet name belongs to a beauty such as yourself?” Without a moment more, he smoothly takes the seat opposite you before anyone else can.

“You speak so kindly, Colonel Burr, my name is Y/N.” You responded in neutrality, you would be waiting otherwise and you supposed that a little flirting wouldn’t hurt in the meantime.

“Ahh, I see that you know of me.”

“It’s hard not to when you’re living in New York. The gossip is always rife.”

“What brings you here tonight? It is unusual to see such lovely woman here alone.”

“I’m here for business, and I’m waiting for someone to arrive.”

“Business? A client?” Burr raised his eyebrows in surprise, was she an escort?

“Business related to the war effort.” You corrected with a blush, realising the misunderstanding.

“Ahh. I must ask what side of the war you are on then.”

Before you could answer again, the shadow of Hercules Mulligan, your contact, towered over Burr.

“Burr! I’m not surprised to see you here, and I see you’ve just already acquainted yourself with Miss Y/N.”

The look of curiosity crossed Burr’s face. How on earth did you know Mulligan? And what role did you play in the revolution?

At the arrival of your contact you relaxed, and without further ado, you turned to your admirer and began to shoo him off. “Mr Burr, I’m afraid Mr Mulligan and I will be discussing some things in private tonight, but it was lovely to meet you.”

“Burr’s a good friend, Miss Y/N and I’m sure he won’t let anything from this conversation leave our little circle, will you, Burr?” Mulligan countered, he must have trusted Burr a lot to let him in on the secret intelligence mission you were working on.

“Of course not, anything said here tonight stays between us.”

This was not the protocol you followed. But you knew Mulligan enough to know that he chose his friends carefully and that he would never invite someone that he didn’t trust to engage in such a sensitive conversation.

“I trust your judgement Mr Mulligan. Bring up a chair then and we’ll get started.”

Over the next hour you gave him explicit details on the movements of the British army that you had gleaned over the course of the week. Things that you were absolutely certain of and plans that were yet unconfirmed. Your position was unique in that it allowed you to move between the American and British side of operations without being questioned.

You were employed to teach the children of a long string of British officers who had started their families in colonies which put you in an advantageous and secure position to gather intelligence for the revolutionary cause. After all, the way to a parent’s heart is through their children, and nobody asks questions of a teacher who is adored by their kids.

“…and there will be an attack, five days from now that there is to be an attack on New York harbour and Long Island when the British fleet arrive. They’re expecting 10 line ships, 20 frigates and 170 transports. 32,000 men.” You said quietly.

“My god. We are unprepared for such conflict.” Mulligan exclaimed, flabbergasted by the revelation. Burr said nothing, although the colour drained from his face immediately. It must be hard to be in his shoes, you thought. The responsibility of leading these men to battle must weigh heavily on him.

You nodded, deep in thought. It would be a bloodbath. How many of these young mirthful men would be here again to tell the tale in 5 days time when all was said and done? Many had never even been in battle before.

“Is that everything you have to report today, Miss?” Mulligan started up again after a brief silence at the table.

“That’s everything.”

“Thank you for the information, I’ll be passing it on to General Washington as soon as I reach him tonight. Hopefully there will be aid for us or another way to defeat the British when they arrive.” Shaking hands with you, he took his leave, but not before turning to Burr. “You should be grateful we have a good spy network. Y/N is one of our best, you should thank her in advance for saving your ass.” He chuckled, clapping his friend on the shoulder before slipping off into the night, leaving the two of you alone again.

“I’m assuming this wasn’t quite the direction you were expecting tonight to take, was it, Colonel Burr?”

“Please, just Aaron. And no, it wasn’t quite what I was expecting, but thank you all for your service to the country.” He bowed his head in newfound respect and awe for your work.

“I could say the same for you. Aaron. You responded with a smile. You tested the name, it was certainly less of a mouthful than ‘Colonel Burr.’

“And I also trust that you will keep my position a secret from your friends?”

“They will be none the wiser, you can trust me.” Burr assured you.

“Thank you. I should be heading home now that Mr Mulligan and I have finished up. Your company tonight was most welcome and flattering, Aaron. I hope you’ll enjoy the rest of your night.”

“It would be my absolute pleasure to walk you home if you’d like. The streets here are not the safest at night and at the very least, maybe I can provide you with some entertaining conversation to pass the time.” Aaron pleaded.

“I wouldn’t be opposed, but I don’t want to deprive you of the company of your friends.”

“I don’t think they’re expecting me again if I’m being honest.” He said coyly.

Uh huh.

You fought hard to not wrinkle your nose in disgust at his suggestiveness. They were not wrong when they said he was reliable with the ladies. You absolutely were not going to be offering him tea and biscuits when you got home.

“It is late, and I won’t be able to offer you room and board at my home.” You warned him.

“The pleasure of walking with you is more than a reward for me.”

“Shall we get going then?”

[sunrisemill]

✮From the start✮ pt.3

Chris and y/n have always been inseparable, they’ve always relied on each other but what happens when one of them falls?

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.4 Finale

Chris’ pov

(2 months ago)

I toss and turn in my bed but can’t shake off this horrible feeling. She's been acting weird and distant lately, I feel like I don't know her anymore…are we still friends? The other day we were watching a movie on my couch, and she looked so sleepy. I couldn't help myself, I put my arm around her and the only way I could describe the look on her was pure horror. Did I do something wrong? Did I go too far? Did I smell or something? I groan into my pillow as those thoughts flood my brain. I have to talk to her. I rip the blanket off of my body and slowly sit up “Alright Grandpa. Do you need help with that?” I feel my lips curl up into a small smile at the memory. She never did give me a break, god forbid I'd let out the TINIEST noise bending over “You okay Grandpa?.” “Do I need to take you to the nursing home already?” Her voice rings through my head as I stand up, I glance over at the alarm clock on my bedside table, 12:22 it reads. God, I hope she’s awake. I can't go on like this anymore.

~~~~~

“Y/n.” I whisper-shout as I stand below her window. I know she’s up cause she has her lamp on “I bet she’s blasting her music, that girl’s gonna go deaf.” I grumble to myself. I smirk as an idea comes to mind, I pick up a small pebble and throw it towards her window creating a small tap noise. “Oh, my precious Y/n. I cannot bear another second without your gracious company.” I say in the most dramatic tone I can come up with. Not long after that I hear the sound of a squeaky window being opened. “Now what the actual hell was that?” I grin as she pokes her head out of the window. God, she looks beautiful… “what? I thought you liked corny shit like that. You're always making me watch that cheesy ass rom-com, what was it now… 12 going on 22?” I ask in a teasing voice. Of course, I know it's 13 going on 30, how could I ever forget her favourite movie? I even watched it without her so I could memorize the wedding scene that she does not stop talking about. “Haha, Chris. You're so funny.” she replies with a PAINFULLY sarcastic tone. “Why are you here anyway?” I take in a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you, could you maybe…come down here, my neck hurts.” I watch her let out a soft chuckle as she retreats her head back, she's gonna come outside and I'm gonna have to do one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. She can't hate me…can she? I mean, she could after this. Y/n hasn't always been the best at expressing her emotions or telling me how she feels, she just shuts down. My thoughts get interrupted by the sound of her back door sliding open. I don't know how she does it, she could be wearing a trash bag for all I care and she would still take my breath away. “Hey…” I whisper as my voice fails me. “Hi?” I watch as she hugs her body to shield herself from the cold. “I was just- I was wondering…are you okay?” Her body stiffens and I just think…oh shit. “I'm fine, Chris. Why wouldn't I be?” The coldness in her voice could send a chill down anyone’s spine “Y/n, I can tell when there’s something wrong. Why can’t you talk to me?  Im here for you.” I take a step toward her but she steps back. C'mon Y/n, don't do this to me. Let me in. Just talk to me. I silently plead to her as her face contorted into a look of annoyance. “I've told you a hundred times already. I am fine. Why can't you comprehend that I don't need a saviour. It's 1 am, go home and sleep like a normal person for once in your goddamn life.” My breath catches in my throat as her tone gets more and more cold as she speaks. What happened to the Y/n that I know? The one I fell in love with… “you know what…” I swallow as I feel tears brimming my eyes. “Im done dealing with this. I care about you but you couldn't give two shits even if you wanted to. Do you know what you are Y/n? A fucking coward! Oh, how dare somebody show even the littlest bit of concern for you. I bet you’ll just forget about me, You'll get a new best friend and fuck it up the same way cause you're too much of a pussy to confront your feelings. I tried helping you but you're hopeless.” I wipe away the tears that fell from my eyes and huff before storming off in a fit of rage. I slam the gate to her backyard behind me, leaving a shivering, startled Y/n behind. Even after all of that…I cant help but still love her.

(A/N: Omg this took so long to come out cause my laptop decided to break but I finally got it fixed YIPPEE!!!! I hope you'll like this cause I feel like I cooked with this. Don't ruin my confidence)

Tags: @guccifrog

[loomimoosh]

Ok I'm going to say this out loud because I can't include it in my rewrite because of the way I've butchered the family tree but

Squilf should have gotten with Rainwhisker.

Look, let me lay this out.

Sootfur dies during the badger attack and Squirrelflight is the one who has to break the news to Rainwhisker. He says he'll talk to Sorreltail about it, but he appreciates her trying to save his brother even though it was too late. He opens up a little about losing their mother to badgers as well, and thanks her for trying to help Sootfur, but knows it was too late for anyone to have done anything.

In the coming moons, Rainwhisker is plagued by thoughts of badgers. He had lost his mother and his brother to them. His sister was poisoned by someone who, if you consider the canon family tree, would have been their half brother, a person who later killed their father. Rainwhisker himself was attacked by an owl in his youth. It's easy to see how he could have become convinced that the world was against him.

Squirrelflight has been struggling, herself. Being batted between two toms who are both increasingly bad for her, not being able to help her sister, all of ThunderClan struggling to settle into their new home...Squirrelflight has learned that she thrives on helping others. And here's someone who she tried to help and failed, and now he's suffering for it. Tossing and turning in his sleep, scared of his own shadow, trying his hardest every day and still coming out worse for it.

They're both struggling, is what I'm saying. And they could find some comfort in each other. They're both good cats, if a little spunky. And having someone be nice to her after all the nonsense Brambleclaw and Ashfur have put her through could really help Squirrelflight. They don't have to collide fast. Just enough to consider each other as trustworthy.

They could be friends. Coworkers, at least.

They fill their days with service, trying to build a life after a tumultuous move. Everyone has lost. Everyone is struggling. They're no different, no more special than anyone. So they both, individually, put that aside. Everyone else seems to be doing the same. If nothing else, it gets her mind off her relationship issues.

And then Leafpool approaches Squirrelflight. Leafpool is pregnant. She doesn't have to say who, Squirrelflight knows. But this is bad. Even after the messiness, no one would understand like Squirrelflight does. It was a brief moment of insecurity that is now having consequences. Leafpool is scared.

All Squirrelflight wants to do is help. But she can't take the kits without a father. She's seen how Daisy and her kits are treated. These kits deserve a normal life, free from the judging gaze of their peers. A good, loving family. Squirrelflight can give them that. But they need to be ThunderClan.

Leafpool insists; it can't be Brambleclaw. She has her own reasons, and Squirrelflight isn't sure she agrees with those reasons, but she'll agree to the stipulation. It's the one demand Leafpool makes. And Squirrelflight knows her sister. She knows how scared she is. She wouldn't even dare ask if it wasn't important enough. If the choice is Brambleclaw or the nightmare that comes with revealing the truth, she'd rather take the latter. And that alone is enough for Squirrelflight to agree to it.

But she doesn't think she can trust Ashfur, either. Not after what he did. Not after Hawkfrost.

Someone she can trust. Someone who understands the struggle of wanting to do anything to help your sibling, and not being able to do enough.

Her mind goes to him.

And so she asks. Carefully, as to not reveal the game. But she asks how he would feel about something like that. If she needed a favor, would he help? If she needed a fall guy, would he do it?

He's a little scared. He won't give a clear answer. There's something big she's not telling him.

But he promises that she can trust him. He just needs to know.

Her words are his secret. He'll take it to his grave. But he can't promise more if he doesn't know the promise he's making.

And so she tells him. In a moment of weakness, she tells him.

Leafpool, Crowfeather, the kits, everything. She feels vile telling this secret to anyone. But he listens, and he takes it. He takes it all to heart.

And it excites him, honestly.

The idea of being a father. Of having someone else to love. He's lost all but one of his favorite people. There's nothing he'd love more than being a dad, honestly. And he'd protect them, and he'd love them, and he would take every burden he could off her shoulders, if nothing more than for the love of being the father he never truly had.

He wants to do this.

And that's the thing that gets her the most. It's no longer that she's asking him to do this, to make a sacrifice for her and her sister. Now, he's begging her to let him love these little things he's never met, who haven't even been born.

And it's done.

And something happens to him. This idealized life he has in his head becomes his reality. He spends time with her, every day, talking and doting and being so excited about this. She knows it's because she's the only one he can talk to about this. But it's a good show. Whispers start to pop up. Natural whispers.

She's not even the one who's pregnant, but the show fits the narrative so well that no one questions it. Save two. But he becomes a different cat when they're involved. He stands up to Brambleclaw, taking the heat for her. He upstages Ashfur, showing her genuine kindness detached from romance.

And when the time comes, he goes with them. Sees the faces of his kits on day one as they wiggle at Leafpool's belly. It's unconventional, but it's his.

It's no small miracle that one of them is the same cloudy gray that Sootfur was. Another the same dark shade that Darkstripe was, and her and the third, a little golden kit, both have the fur that he does, the kind that squares the face and broadens the shoulders.

They're perfect.

When the six return to camp, Rainwhisker keeps his word. He loves them like his own, and no one questions a thing. Sorreltail coos that Hollykit looks so much like him, reminding them of their mother.

And Jaykit has his eyes.

And when the others whisper about those eyes, call him broken, Rainwhisker is quick to shut the whispers down. He doesn't let the words linger.

When Jaykit begins to echo them, he reassures his little warrior. No one, not even Jaykit himself, will say those words to his son.

Their relationship is just a show, Squirrelflight is painfully aware. But day by day, she starts to see him. Past the pain and misery and loss is a cat whose life has been in the name of love. And he's strong, and sweet, and he does everything for others. Wouldn't let her suffer a day in her life if he had the choice.

It's starting to feel less like a show.

And when Jaypaw is apprenticed to Brightheart, Squirrelflight knows he's right to be insulted. Firestar sees them both differently.

But not Rainwhisker. And he's quick to say as much. Telling Jaypaw he knows Brightheart is a good mentor. A fantastic hunter, a thorough thinker, and a kind soul.

She and Cloudtail had trained him, after all. It's only fitting for his son to be her apprentice, too.

It makes Jaypaw feel better, even just a little. Like he's not as broken as the others say. Rainwhisker sees past all that.

He has a way with words. An honest way. A good heart, a warm smile. It's not just pretty words he says. He's so genuine in what he says.

Squirrelflight starts to wonder if those pretty words he tells her are more true than she believed.

She feels lucky to have had him in her life.

She wonders if it's too late to ask him to stand beside her.

[cookiedough77]

PLEASEEEEEE IM DYING TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR OCSSSSS 🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

oh my gah

well heres some... refrences i made a while back GAH I NEED TO DRAW MORE OF THEM UH UH UH

man ok so i put alot of their lore into a google doc ill just like copy and paste alot of it here:

Okok more of a deep dive on these guys because i wanna do more with them

OK JAY BACKSTORY

So initially, jays mom like wiped out a bunch of superheroes, like when jay was really young (he cant remember it) and shortly after, what very little heroes were left or heroes who were only “super” because of the gear they had, an order was created, to try and take her down

His entire life he was raised by his evil ass mom, mainly manipulating him inot thinking humans were bad (they are generally human but with so much magic into their system that they really arent anymore i guess, similar to like a vampire or a werewolf or something). Its not that jay didnt believe his mother but more of he knew something was wrong with what she was doing, how she was going about things

His mother was a wanted criminal for years, and she was mainly destructive or whatever because her husband died idk-

Im making this up as i go, her husband died from too much magic intake? Like he couldnt handle it, but jays mother blamed humanity because “they were the ones holding him back from his potential” 

Jay barely knew his father, so its not like he had a super connection to him

Now while he was growing up, he didnt actually see his mother attack superheros, mainly took her anger out on civilian, even then she didnt like kill them or anything. So he didnt see his mother as a bad person….. UNTIL 

A new superhero actually DID show up, or merely, one that was “taken down” and came back, and maybe or maybe not jays mother wanted him to kill whoever it was and hes like “uh NO????” she does it herself and jay immediately wants out of this, but he doesnt exactly have a choice, so he starts disobeying her for like a year, and then…

Another superhero shows up, a young one, a new one, a vulnerable one. Im not exactly sure how kylo and jay interact and stuff at first because i guess its the “beginning” not the backstory idk sooooooo save that for later!!!

Anyway well i guess kylos next which is complicated man

Gah you’ve heard about this, one of a bunch of orphans actually survived some mutation and that was kylo, who initially wasnt even given a name, kylos name shows up later

So because theres a “superhero shortage” the order decided instead of waiting, to just make more, no matter how, they just needed strong enough heroes to take down any threats, including jays mom, and yes i know i need a name for her

Now remember when i talked about kylo having “siblings” yeah so there are others, just none of the orphans, “failed attempts” before kylo, too much of the mutation so they're not really “usable” and they science people are trying their hardest to make them “work” they also dont see them as real people!!! Hahahaha

Anyway kylo was kinda like raised like this, usually isolated from the other attempts because she was “perfect” and it was mainly two scientists taking care of kylo, they were new, and didn’t have much experience in the field, kylo was their first “assignment” and btw idk they’re a couple, and when kylo turned 10 they both suggested before kylo going out and “being a superhero” that she should like interact with real people, she looked human enough, and she could blend in, and learn like basic empathy from other people/kids

The order approved this and those are basically kylos adoptive parents.

BUT not before wiping all of kylos memory!!! Hahah they’ve tested it out before, and decide to use it on kylo, to not mess with anything, and the memory just doesnt “go away” its like a polaroid camera and rolls of memories spills out, and they keep it safe, locked away

So kylo spends like 3 years homeschooled, and realizes that shes “different” than others (kylos parents didnt really explain anything to them (they werent allowed)). So she comes up with a dumb constume like all heros and decides to make good use out of it

This all leads up to the actual beginning of the story which is like i dont even know where to start but like i can tell you that kylo and jay team up, obviously jay has more experience with his abilities and is like the main person to take down his mother, but kylo definitely helps

The order “meets” kylo and lets her stay obviously, and jay… well they’re wary of him, and make him stay in the building (where the order resides) to keep an eye on him, and this is basically where jay stays until like hes 18

Jays “indenity” is quickly released to the public, an requirement from the order, and jay tries to do whatever they say to make him seem trustworthy (because he is, my poor boy), all while, kylo is instructed to not tell ANYONE who they are, and kylo follows the rules at first, but over the years she likes to challenge them alot.

Jay and kylo quickly become friends and trust eachother obviously uh uh, yeah, theirs other villains of course, and kylo and jay become friends even while civilians but kylo is told to “not get so close” but they try anyway bruh idk

A lot of things happen and ill probably draw some stuff out or talk about it because man theres so much up in this noggin and it yearns to be free

[lightthewaybackhome]

Adrift is such a hard, yet good, episode. I love the opening sequence where the story shifts back and forth between Keller trying to save Elizabeth and Rodney trying to save Atlantis. I love the sense of Atlantis and Elizabeth being connected, entwined, and woven together. Without one you can't have the other. I think this is one of the reasons Atlantis resonates as Home for everyone. Elizabeth has made it a Home. She's made it a place of acceptance, beauty, health, and hope for all of these different "strays" that needed a place to belong. Without her, Atlantis just isn't right.

The fight to save Atlantis, Sheppard and Rodney doing all that they can to save their home, is a wonderful part of this episode, but the hardest part, the gut-clenching part, is Rodney and Sheppard fighting. Rodney wants to turn on the replicators to save Elizabeth. Sheppard says no way. Remember, when they invaded her last time, they convinced her Atlantis wasn't real. None of it was real. Sheppard, McKay, Ronon, Teyla. Everyone and everything was a lie. It was Sheppard who told her to fight. It was Sheppard who helped her overcome the Replicators. And now, it is Sheppard (who knows!) saying they're not turning on the Replicators, not even to save her life. The fight Elizabeth faced last time was so hard, and the danger to Atlantis herself is not worth it. Sheppard proves he knows Elizabeth better than anyone else by saying know.

But, Rodney does it anyway and I can't be mad, because he did it out of a sincere love for Elizabeth. The whole scene where he tells Sheppard what he's done is horrible. Elizabeth waking up and Teyla trying to comfort her, but Elizabeth reacting exactly how Shepperd said she would is horrible.

Then we get to the "Sorry" said in the sweetest Canadian accent from Rodney. Rodney reaches out. Rodney demands they stop fighting. Rodney apologizes! Friendship isn't about doing everything perfectly. Friendship is about forgiving one another when we fail, which we will. Rodney says he's sorry. Sheppard accepts his apology. (There's this tiny micro-expression on the side of the screen where Sheppard frowns and runs his hand through his hair and you can tell he's working to shut down his anger and readjust after accepting the apology so they can move forward. It's perfect, and so human.)

I really love this episode. It carries so much weight and there is such an underlying sense of sadness as we near Elizabeth's end. As you watch it, knowing what you're watching, you are begging Rodney to not do this, just let her go, but you aren't mad at Rodney. How can you be? Even as you want to save her from what's coming, you also want to save her even if it is for only a moment because saving her is saving Home.

[distortedclouds]

Can you really explain in detail what black water Annie’s dad has against Armin is he just “nobody can love my daughter more than me” and controlling cause hes a narcissist or is there another reason? Cause we know the hate is obviously mutual between armin and annies dad but Armin is a good guy for annie, he’s literally a commander why wouldn’t he be happy knowing he treated her horribly?? Sorry for it being so long but i had been thinking about this for a while

Well sorry this took FOREVER for me to answer, anon, but here I am! (promise im not dead)

I think one of the hardest characters to write in BW was Mr. Leonhart. because it's so easy to make him a two-dimensional villain with very little nuance. So it does help to try and see things from his perspective a little bit, even if we're ignoring the selfish/self-centered accusations made by me numerous time. 10 years ago, him and Annie made a promise that it's them against the world, that neither him nor Annie need anyone else to rely on as long as they have each other. This is when he said that she can make the whole world her enemy but he'd still be on her side and that's all that matters

By the end of the series, you can see Mr Leonhart kept good on his "promise" he seems to still be only focused on her returning, keeping to himself because that's what he told Annie to do. But now she's back, and she hadn't kept her "promise" of it just being the two of them, she now has friends she can rely on, people she trusts and loves and who love her back

I think there is a sense of betrayal on his end, but I don't see him turning against Annie after 10 whole years of waiting for her and believing she's alive. Instead, it's much more realistic of him going the route of "it's other people" who are taking her away from me so that starts causing some resentment even towards Annie herself

I've also pointed out before that I don't believe he actually knows Annie as a person. He never got to know her before he "changed his ways" so it's really hard for him to comprehend why other people may like her, especially since his own "paternal feelings" are primarily guided by guilt, rather than something more inherently positive. So, of course, anyone who's trying to get close to Annie, must have some nefarious reasoning and ill-intent towards her, so he must protect her now, unlike when he "failed" from protecting her from Marley

Armin is the target of his hatred because he is successfully taking Annie away from him, because hero of the final battle, commander in the army, and an ambassador important worldwide, surely he doesn't have an interest in a "damaged" girl beyond the fact that she's easier to take advantage of

Also, while not a part of BW, I can totally imagine his passive aggressiveness towards anyone (but especially Armin) trying to take Annie away from him if he found out that it was Armin and her friends who put her there in the first place would turn into hostility

This is all my trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but the characterization I apply the most to Mr Loenhart is the one I have pinned on my blog of him focusing on his own redemption and making up for his mistakes, with being Annie's father till his last day as the only way he could do it and anyone taking Annie from him is dooming him into irredeemably. Though that's more subconscious

[dirtybackroad]

possess me

read on ao3 / tag list meg masters (demon) / risa (endverse) word count: 1.7k | rating: E

summary:

written for day 13 of @spntoxicfemslashevent: meg/risa

Risa sneaks away from camp to summon Meg. Meg shows her who she belongs to.

Meg was never a real threat, not in Risa’s eyes. This was the same amount of stupidity as Castiel’s pills or Dean’s reckless supply runs to support that habit. Meg was just a demon. Camp was warded. Risa was warded. They’d all gotten their matching tattoos at initiation, and regular ol’ possessions were rare these days. So, at the end of the day at the end of the world, Meg was no more dangerous than any other beating heart around here, and way more fun.

Plus, it is the end of the goddamned world anyway. Risa thinks she should be allowed something of her own. And so, on the nights Dean leaves her to her bunk at camp, Risa sneaks away into the night and scratches a summoning sigil into the ground in the woods outside of their compound.

A quick slice sends shockwaves of pain familiar as it is, across her palm. She opens up the scar and lets her blood spill on the ground, just a few drops into the dirt carving. There is silence humming in its absence like a vacuum for a moment, then -

Risa swears her ears popped once.

“What do you have for me tonight, baby?” Meg’s voice is like honey, carried the edge of a knife. Risa thinks back to camp, to the others, to Dean, to logistics and plans and the End of all Things.

“Our last real lead was over a month ago, you know that.” Risa is distracted, words coming out on a stutter, her eyes following Meg’s movements as she stalks closer.

“Hm, can’t a girl make conversation anymore? Maybe I wanna play house. ‘Honey, how was work today?’ And you say ‘Oh, fine, still haven’t killed your daddy yet, but we’re trying our hardest,’ and I’ll laugh and serve you meatloaf like a good little housewife.”

Meg crowds in close to where Risa kneels in the dirt, straddles her lap, and puts both hands in her hair.

Risa lets herself be moved and rests her hands easily on Meg’s hips. She tries and fails not to think of the woman whose body Meg stole for this.

“Is that the script you want me to follow?” Risa speaks as her eyes slide shut, Meg’s thumbs digging into her scalp.

“I’m just saying, it’d be fun to switch it up a little. Y’know, the tingly-feeling starts to wear off after the dozenth summoning.”

Have they really been doing this that long? Risa doesn’t know what to say, so she doesn’t say anything. She just keeps her eyes shut and leans her head back.

She doesn’t fight the groan that Meg pulls from her lips, the demon giving up on the head massage and moving straight to Risa’s weak spot. Meg latches her lips onto the soft skin right below her ear, stolen hands sliding down Risa’s back to thumb at her hip, absently tracing the anti-possession sigil there.

Meg said once it burns to the touch. Risa’s not sure if she believes her or not.

She’s shoved up against the trunk of some tree, caught between the rough bark and the searing heat of the woman-demon who Risa thinks might bring about her end, and all she can do is moan.

Meg seems hell-bent on leaving a mark; Risa does not want to have to explain that to Dean and so she grabs a handful of hair and yanks, hard, just like Meg likes it. It’s over from there, with Risa opening her eyes just in time to see Meg’s flash desire-black, a predatory open-mouthed growl rumbling through the air.

Meg shoves a hand between them, shifting her weight to one of Risa’s thighs. Her movements are furiously graceful, rough with the want-need that they’ve both come to expect from these encounters. Love bites were one thing, a red flag that carried Risa too close to being caught, but the way Meg fucked left behind marks more similar to a sparring match.

Easily explained were torn clothes and handprint bruises, less acceptable were flushed and swollen lips, teenage-hickeys and scratches-down-the back.

Risa’s thighs fall apart, the worn denim covering her legs stretching tight and uncomfortable. It doesn’t matter though. Meg doesn’t pay mind to her protestations, just hikes a leg further up and back; her other hand still greedily tearing at the closures of Risa’s jeans.

She gets the zipper down and lets out a victory cry, quickly muffling the sound in Risa’s chest, pulling back on the resistance the other woman’s hand in her hair provided.

She always moved this quick; Risa figured it was a demon thing but Meg fucked like it was a competition, clawing and fighting to the finish line with hell on her heels.

Meg got both hands on Risa’s jeans, fingers scrabbling at the waist to get a grip tight enough to pull her back and away from the tree, uncaring as Risa’s head bounced back against the earth below them with a thud as she let Meg lay her out.

A brief struggle later, and Risa’s jeans are down around her ankles, the roots of the tree digging into her back and dead leaves crunch-itching under her thighs. Meg wastes no time in shoving her fingers into Risa’s underwear, a glint in her eye when she finds the wet gathered there.

“Fucking filthy, Ris.” Meg’s praise cuts through the silence.

Risa is glad that her shame died with the rest of society because the way she throws her weight into the roll of her hips would be embarrassingly needy in another life. But here? Flat on her back in the dirt at the end of the world, Risa lets herself go.

Flattening her feet on the ground gives some leverage, and Risa’s hips rise off the ground. Meg moves a touch too fast, taking the angle change as permission that Risa never granted. She presses two fingers inside, curling them just right and watching with rapt fascination as Risa chokes out a long moan.

Meg laughs, low and throaty, and she thumbs open the button on those filthy fucking cargo pants she always wears. Risa looks up at her, and with the moon through the trees and the rising pleasure, she thinks insane things like maybe she could have Meg forever, like they could hole up in camp and share a bunk, just Risa and her demon girlfriend.

Meg bears down over her, wild eyes and a mean sneer that has Risa think she did something stupid like speak those wishes out loud.

“Sometimes I think you like this a little too much, sweetheart. What would Dean think if he saw you like this?” Meg grabs at Risa’s breast, hands rough, smearing dirt and debris on the front of her shirt. “Do you ever think about putting a knife in me the same way you think about my fingers inside you? Ever hear his voice in your ear, tellin’ you to gut the bitch?”

Risa leans up, searching for Meg’s lips, knowing if she can just shut her up she could end this, get a thigh up between Meg’s and let the demon whore rub off on her. It's Dean’s voice in her ear, and Risa’s angry, angry that Meg is right, angry that Dean has got himself inside her head like that. Her hands grasp for purchase on the ground, on Meg, on anything she can touch.

Meg just laughs, pulls just out of reach, fucks into her harder, rougher, moving on from her assault on Risa’s chest to instead claw at the small of her back. She tugs her up and into the air, eyes flashing black as Risa’s legs fall further apart. “I’d let you, if you wanted to try it. You could take me apart right here, slice your pocketknife right through me. I’d ask for more, beg for it even.”

Risa tries to block her voice out, squeezes her eyes shut, and tries to press her thighs together. She’s suddenly too aware of the moment. Risa swears she feels something crawl across her bare thigh; she looks down at her own wetness coating Meg’s wrist, sees where she’s inside her, feels that damned tree branch where it presses against her neck, wedged between her and the forest floor.

Meg doesn’t let it go. “Or do you want more?” She drops Risa’s hips down, slides a third finger inside her, digs her nails into the sigil on her hip. “You want me inside you, want me to see you,” Meg’s hissing now, the voice she speaks with coming from somewhere deeper than the woman’s chest she lives in.

Risa can barely think, her brain clouded with sulfur and mud and heat and her approaching climax. “I-“

“You what, sweetheart? You’ve never thought about it? About me n’ you?” Meg’s thumbnail presses deeper into Risa’s hip.

She’s so fucking close, needs just a bit more, needs Meg to just shut the fuck up, needs some sort of grip back on the situation here.

“No, I-“

“No?” Meg taunts her, matching her tone and whining the word out. God - did Risa sound that pathetic? “No, please? You want me to stop?” Her nail pokes deeper, teasing at the edge of breaking the skin. All it would take is one sharp movement, and Risa’s tattoo would be nothing but useless, broken lines.

“Didn’t think so.”

Risa can only whimper out her response.

Meg’s got the palm of her hand pressed up against Risa’s clit now, lets her rub up against it, doesn’t even call her a slut for how fucking needy she is for it. Risa’s hurtling towards the edge, and Meg watches with her eyes pitch black. Risa opens hers in time to lock in, her mouth falling open in a gasp for air as she reaches her climax.

Meg finally leans in and kisses Risa, hot and heady, taking more than she can give and leaving no room for the woman to catch her breath. She bites at Risa’s lip as she pulls away, but she doesn’t stop, she just keeps leaving till she’s standing over the bed of leaves they’d just consecrated.

Desecrated. Whatever.

“Stay?” Risa’s voice rings up at Meg from the forest floor. Meg just laughs. She leans down and presses a kiss to Risa’s forehead and leaves her there, lying in the mud. 

“Clean yourself up and get back to Dean, sweetheart.” 

Risa waits until she’s gone before she pulls up her jeans and gets herself together.

[fallingskiesandrisingseas]

I rewatched the last Agni Kai between Azula and Zuko yesterday and then read the discourse and there are a few things that I feel need to be said here.

First of all, Azula wins that fight 100% if she's mentally balanced. Yes, Zuko has incorporated other styles into his bending, yes, he's more surefooted now, yes, he's outclassing her the entire fight and isn't even out of breath while his sister is panting. Even with all that, Azula is able to use fire in a much more instinctive way. She has shown feats unmatched by other firebenders when not under the comet, like flying with fire. She also has insane command over lightning, outdrawing Zuko and even Iroh. And her fire is blue, burning a hotter temperature then regular fire. A prodigy indeed.

Second, it is interesting that Azula cheats because she can't beat Zuko with lightning. We are told that lightning is a powerful firebending form only the royal family knows, and Azula does it better ( and earlier ) than most. But doesn't it require inner peace? What if, in that exact moment, lightning would no longer come to her, her talent failing her? What if that was the end? Would have made a for powerful breakdown of Azula as well. But she conjures lightning.

And I was wondering what the lightning was even for, conceptually. It shows us that Zuko now has full mastery of the hardest technique, and Azula knows -she knows, goddamn- that he can redirect. So why use it? And then it hit me. She uses it because a) she's been outclassed in every other fire bending attack, burning through her stamina while Zuko hasn't even moved, and b) she sees it as her best ability, something Zuko cannot emulate. She wants to hurt him.

Here we see Azula's tactical brilliance and cruelty. She decides in a split second to aim her lighting at Katara, a waterbender with no way of defending herself against this deadly force. This forces Zuko to make the sacrifice play, taking one of the pieces off the board. I don't believe she truly thinks that Zuko will make it, by the way. She expects him to let her die, which will make him angry, unhinged. More of a match. And even if he doesn't, she wins by taking Zuko out. Azula's strategy of divide and conquer indeed.

But this all comes from Zuko's provocation. This provocation is a mistake.

Because what is Zuko going to do when he redirects it? Kill her with it? Aang chose to spare Ozai, and in a world where Zuko keeps his cool and doesn't provoke it like that, she'll still use it, and he'll have no choice but to kill her. There could be no other outcome in an Agni Kai, not since Sozin. If Zuko wants to win, he will have to kill her. There is no way he can subdue her with fire, and she won't quit, we know that.

The provocation is not only a tactical error on Zuko's part, but it gives the writers a way out of having one of the siblings murder the other. . It is a fight that only has losers, a fight Zuko knows needs to happen but doesn't want to have. Azula also seems to care for her brother in some way still, telling Katara that she'd much rather "have him looked after by the family physician."

The fandom also moves past the fact that Katara is able to beat the strongest firebender of their generation with wits and sewer water. You know how insane that is? Sure, Azula isn't all there, but she is still an incredibly skilled opponent. And Katara outsmarts her. One of the best minds in the fire nation beaten by a water bender.

Which brings me to my next, and most important point. Azula can breathe fire. She is no more helpless in the ice than Zuko or Iroh is, both of whom have shown to be capable of escaping from ice. And yet she lets Katara chain her to the floor without a fight.

She shouldn't go down that easily. Not if she is all there. And I think this beautifully illustrates what happens in this fight, just as much as the crying after: Azula, the prodigy, the favourite child, the heir to the throne, cannot conceive being beaten.

She's been told she was special since the day she was born, she has witnessed the scarring of her brother, she has been emotionally abused by her family. She's all alone, in the end, no friends, no allies, and she's beaten when her bending is at her most powerful ( SHOULD BE at her most powerful, more accurately ). Beaten by a puny waterbender from the Southern Watertribe.

Now we understand why she doesn't act, merely moving her eyes as Katara chains her. At the most important moment, she fails, and suddenly none of the abuse she endured, the friends she has lost, the people she has used, is worth it.

No wonder she is crying.

[usagiarchive]

as long as you love me — 03 — SEEDS Ship 06

vash the stampede (tristamp) x f!reader

"as long as you love me, we could be starving, we could be homeless, we could be broke,"

⌒⊹˚୨୧ prev / masterlist / next / wattpad / ao3 ୨୧˚⊹⌒

⌒⊹˚୨୧ INTRODUCTION: 03 — SEEDS Ship 06 WORDCOUNT: 3.5k words CHAPTER SUMMARY: the very first mission.

You knew the desert was hot, but you didn’t actually think it would be this hot!

It was only the first few hours into your amazing new journey and already, you were starting to dread it. Vash was a few steps in front of you riding his own Thoma, you were riding your own.

“What is that?!” you asked, perturbed, seeing the creature in front of you, “What, a Thoma?” Vash had answered as he loaded his and your stuff on the creatures.

“That’s what those dodo-looking lizard things are called?” you asked again and the blond only laughed at your question.

Now, it seemed funny to you that Vash was ahead of you, considering only a few hours ago, you were the one most excited about this.

“I’ll be fine Xanther, stop worrying!” you remembered telling your friends when they told you you could still back out of it and you swatting their hands away as they doted on you like a child.

In a way, you were their child, even back at the academy. You weren’t incapable, yes, but you found that your friends often did things for you, even something as simple as opening your water bottle for you or feeding you spoons of food while you studied.

They always took care of you…

Luida told you events of what happened while you were asleep, too. She told you how Xanther and Ynez blamed themselves for what happened, “I should’ve dragged her to her room,” was what Ynez said, and “I never should’ve left her alone,” was Xanther’s.

It was neither their fault. They both knew that.

But human emotion was a terribly amazing poison to the rational mind. And no one can escape it.

“The two were on a long slump for a long while,” Luida had said, “Ynez requested to be frozen until you were awake, but Brad and I disapproved,” her lips pursing, “It always hurt me when we saw the look in her eyes after every annual PLANT check-up, the way she always bolts to the medbay and comes back looking so empty,”

Your heart felt tight against your chest as Luida continued to tell you stories of how Xanther and Ynez and the crew you were close with coped with your sudden disappearance.

The real reason Xanther grew out his hair, the way Ethan always visits you even though he really doesn’t like the antiseptic smell of the medbay just to always leave flowers on your side table, the way Niña always made sure to move your body on time, never missing her rounds, even when she got sick, which led her to be frozen for some time until she passed.

(a/n: no, they did not kill Niña with the cryo chamber, she died because her body couldn’t handle the stress of everything, remember Niña was a nurse so she was the one who took care of all the survivors Brad and Luida found, she overworked herself to the point of getting sick and burning out, and then she worried about not being able to do her job right and possibly failing as a nurse, so her body gave out and she requested to be frozen to give her body time to rest, a sub taking her place until the next annual PLANT checkup, unfortunately, her body did not survive during it, rip Niña.)

“Ynez may not show it, but I knew she was the one who took it the hardest, she always strived to be the one who does the most, I think she did it so you wouldn’t worry about your own work when you came back,”

After Luida left, you found your eyes stinging, you couldn’t breathe properly and you kept taking short gasps of breath as you willed your voice not to make a sound.

You know you shouldn’t cry over spilled milk, but you can’t help it.

Human emotion is a terribly amazing poison to the rational mind. And no one can escape it. Not even you.

You willed yourself to be stronger, to do more, to be more, so that all of Ynez’s efforts won’t go in vain, so that Xanther wouldn’t have to constantly worry over you anymore, so that Luida and Brad and all of the crew members you loved wouldn’t have to think of caring for a single person like you and put their own wellbeings aside.

So you can make your parents proud.

The stinging of your eyes reminded you of where you are, right, I’m in the desert, I shouldn’t cry, it’s a waste of body fluids and water, I could get dehydrated, you thought as you shook your head and wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your jacket.

You then notice Vash looking back at you and you tilted your head, “Is something wrong, Vash?” you asked as you caught up with him, the two of you now riding your Thomas side-by-side.

He looked like he was going to say as he opened his mouth, but then he shook his head, “No, it’s nothing,”

Neither of you bothered to fill the growing uncomfortable silence. Only the wind and trudging of the Thoma’s hooves against the hot sand were heard.

This was the first time it had been like this with Vash, he was usually very chatty, talking about anything and everything, this was the first time he had been so pensive and quiet, you wonder if you’d done something wrong.

You decided that maybe he was just scared of what was out here, maybe he, too, was unsure.

But deep down, something was telling you that wasn’t it.

Shrugging the thoughts away, you decided to give him a few hours or so to sort things out maybe he was also going through some internal conflict just like you were, earlier. But when three hours have passed and you didn’t get even a single word out of him, you decided to poke the bee’s hive.

You sped your own Thoma up and blocked his, he looked surprised, confused, even, “Hey, what are you do-”

“What’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Vash, you’ve been quiet for hours, you keep looking over your shoulder to look at me, and every time you do, there’s this look on your face I can’t quite explain! You keep opening your mouth to say something, but you never do, so now I’m asking you, what’s wrong?” you finished with a huff.

The blond looked down, fisting the Thoma’s reigns in his hands as he pursed his lips.

“It’s nothing…”

You groaned, “Oh, come on, Vash! If it’s bothering you this much, tell me! You can’t ask me to come with you on a potentially life-threatening mission and not communicate with me when you think something is wrong! Come on, where’s the guy who talked about everything with me back on the ship?”

He stayed silent, you didn’t know if he was thinking of an answer to your question or if he was just plain out ignoring it.

Wait-

“Is it me?” you asked quietly, worry seeping into the cracks of your voice.

Quickly, Vash moved his arms a lot, “No! No! It’s not bad- I mean, it is about you, but it isn’t anything bad! I just- I think it’s unfair for you because you have your friends to come home to, and they obviously don’t want you to leave and I made you come with me on this stupid mission-” he rambled.

You were about to cut him off and answer about how 1. It wasn’t unfair to you because you agreed, 2. He also has friends to come home to on the ship, Luida and Brad are practically his parents, too, and 3. This mission wasn’t stupid.

But none of that happened anyway when you heard a ringing noise in your ear, it made your head hurt with how loud it was, it felt like whatever was ringing was physically inside your ears, it made you clutch your head and shut your eyes to try and alleviate the pain.

“…. we’re only a … miles away from… -me, … -ould… go back… sure your… -iss you, … -eally, i’m so… -ryy… never…thought… okay… don’t have to… really,”

You could still hear Vash rambling but it seemed so far away, the ringing sound screaming into your eardrums, you felt like you were gonna go deaf.

When it quieted down a bit, you opened your eyes only to find Vash’s face in disarray, looking somewhere at the sea of sand before you.

“Are you okay, Vash? What’s wrong?” you found yourself asking him even though your head was still hurting.

Slowly, he tore away his gaze from the sand and looked at you.

“It’s the PLANT, I can hear it, and it’s in danger,”

The two of you raced to where the PLANT was or where Vash was leading the two of you, the second he told you what was wrong, he kept mumbling that he got to go and went running off, looking as if he was in pain.

You followed suit, not wanting to be left alone in the sweltering desert, but also not wanting to leave Vash alone.

The Thoma thumped against the sand for a quarter of an hour before you saw something in the distance, and at that point, the ringing got louder. You sucked in a breath at the pain. It was like you got shot in the head with how intense the pain got.

As you got even closer, you could finally see what was written on the outside of the ship, SEEDS 06. It was a ship’s PLANT, you realized.

“Vash!” you yelled, and he looked back, his Thoma still going as fast as it could, you urged yours to catch up to his and it did, the two of you squinting so that none of the sand particles would get into your eyes.

“It’s the PLANT!” he yelled as you both got closer to the ship, gradually slowing down to not crash into the docked ship.

Thankfully, the stationed guards already saw the two of you from afar and were ready to meet you at the ramp. They were going to apprehend both of you at first (understandably, because they were uninvited guests tbh), but proceeded to give you access to the ship once they saw yours and Vash’s jackets.

The reflective fabric of the patches on your right sleeves, one that showed that both of you were from a SEEDS ship, too.

“I’m a Military PLANT Engineer,” you explained, “So is he,” you jabbed a finger in Vash’s direction as he smiled nervously when the guards asked what you were here for.

They let you both in and you wanted to lay on the cold floor of the ship, the temperature helping alleviate your headache, even though the ringing became more amplified.

Vash bolted, though, so you followed after him once more, knowing wherever he’ll go, that’s where the PLANT’ll be. He took multiple turns, left, right, right, left, right. And at the end of it all, you found Ship 06’s PLANT deck.

It had been exactly like your experience, all the engineers gathered around, not knowing what to do, everyone murmuring and talking about what to do amongst themselves as the lights glowed red over the PLANT.

Vash got over his panting quickly and was shoving people out of the way to get to the PLANT console when he was stopped.

“Hey, who are you and how did you get into the ship?” A man asked, hand on Vash’s chest to prevent him from coming any closer.

You quickly made your way to the front, snatching your ID out of your shirt and showing it to the man.

“I’m Y/n L/n from Ship 03, Military PLANT Engineer, this is Vash, he’s also a PLANT Engineer, we’ve come to assist this ship’s PLANT,”

The man took your ID and his eyes widened, hand on Vash’s chest loosening and falling to his side, “You’re L/n? The kid who fell into the PLANT tank?” he asked and whispers sprouted once more around the PLANT deck.

It was the same scenario all over again and it made your head throb even more, the ringing switched to your left ear only now and it was incessant.

You nodded and he held his hand out, “Welcome to Ship 06, I’m Gerard Lim, Doctor L/n, we are grateful for you and Doctor Vash’s assistance, how may we help?”

Vash wanted to correct the man but you shook your head at him and he nodded, “Let Vash have access to the console, hand me the reports from the last five annual reports and the last three weekly reports on the PLANT’s biodata,”

The PLANT engineers stepped aside to let Vash do his job and you stepped to the console as you reviewed the reports given to you. You winced as another wave of pulsing in your head and a loud shrill ringing noise passed through you.

There was definitely something wrong with you. No one else in the room seemed to notice it or hear it, too.

You looked up for a moment when the room erupted into gasps and you saw the unfurled PLANT coming closer to the glass where Vash has his forehead pressed with his eyes closed.

Your knees weaken and you grip the handrail, keeping yourself upright as you shut your eyes again, gripping the files in your hand to make sure they don’t fall, as you wait for the ringing to calm down.

When it did, you open your eyes to see Vash running to you, “It’s not her, it’s the tank,” he said as soon as he was close enough that only the two of you can hear, you look back and the PLANT is already furling around itself, returning to its usual form.

You nod at him, “Let’s get to work, then,” and he looks to the side as he sheepishly rubs his neck, “I’m, tank management isn’t my specialty,” he admitted and you could only nod, surprised.

“Ah, well, I’ll get to work, then,” you smiled, but you could feel it forming into a slight wince, one that Vash caught on to.

“Hey, you, alright?” he asked, very concerned, and you could only nod, this was turning into a migraine and you were about to puke your guts out any minute now.

“I’m fine, just a migraine,” you told him and you swear if he had ears it would’ve already been flat against his head.

You waved him off, “I’ll be fine, Vash, really, it’ll be quick fixing the tank,”

It was not ‘quick’ fixing the tank.

It took a total of more than two hours to return the PLANT to its normal state. Apparently, the programming and wiring of the tank was wrong and you spent the better first hour and a half of it trying to find the error, God, you hated coding.

The mistake in question was a mismatched and misplaced code in the flow of tank fluid going in and out of the tank, a mistake on the ship’s engineers’ part. You had to reprogram it and fix the wiring on the tank.

It was times like these when you missed your team, it seemed like on Ship 06, there was a bit of chaos and no one knew how to help, all of them in a panic.

Throughout the whole process, you felt like you were going to pass out any second, but you couldn’t, you couldn’t let yourself not finish the job.

Vash watched you as you worked the whole time, he was constantly asking if you were okay, to which you always replied ‘I’m fine, Vash,’, not that he was convinced, but he did try to help and was learning only from watching you.

When the light finally switched back to their blue color, the blond thanked you profusely and you shook him off, telling him it was your job and it was the right thing to do.

“I owe you two favors now!” he insisted and you could only laugh at him.

The engineers of the ship thank you and again, you brush them off, saying it was nothing. “I now see why you graduated Valedictorian from your class!” one of them said and you could only smile sheepishly.

That’s when you notice the ringing was gone and so was your migraine.

Weird, you thought.

“Excuse me, can I see your ship’s doctor?” you asked one of the women, Nancy, whom you’ve befriended just minutes ago.

“Oh, of course! I’ll come with,” she said and led the way.

A hand grabbed yours.

Vash.

“Where are you going?”

“Medbay,”

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, “I am, Vash, I just want to see the doctor for some pain relievers, maybe even a CT scan, now that I think about it,”

Vash put a hand on your back and started walking, “I’ll come with,”

“I did promise Doctor Trinh and Doctor Durand, after all,”

The CT scan turned out okay, so did all your tests, you were perfectly normal. The doctor had guessed that maybe it was some kind of response to the temperature or that your body was adjusting and this was only a side effect, something that worried Vash, but the doctor assured him that it was perfectly normal for humans.

He seemed less stressed after that.

The ship offered the two of you sleeping chambers for the night, to which you both gratefully accepted. Both of you set to leave the morning after, the post-success excitement and joy hitting only now.

“Of course! We can’t let our saviors leave without a good night’s rest, especially you, Doctor L/n! I mean, excuse my language, but holy shit! Getting to meet someone like you? One of the best PLANT engineers? This is an incredible dream!” A young woman, Claudine, fawned over you.

You could only blush, “Thanks, it’s nothing,” you brushed off again.

She left shortly, a very energetic person, you noted.

And then, it was just you and Vash.

The two of you sat in the cafeteria, eating your meals, when he broke the silence, “Sooo… what’s this about being the best?” he started.

You tilted your head, “Huh?”

“You know!” he motioned to you, “I’ve been hearing it since we got on the PLANT deck, everyone was whispering about you! Not that they were good at whispering though,” he laughed a little at the end.

“Ah, that’s nothing,” you shrugged and swallowed your water down.

“Nothing? But you’re all everyone talks about, come onnn, I wanna know the context!” he whined and you laughed again.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” you snickered behind your bowl of soup and he pouted and pointed a finger at you, “Hey, I’m older than you!”

An eyebrow raised at his claim, “Excuse you? I’m older than you, kiddo, you may look all grown up, but you’re quite literally only in your early 60’s,” you slapped his finger away, “I, on the other hand, while I may look like someone in her mid-20’s, I am literally 80 years old,”

“So that,” you pointed your spoon at him, “makes me older than you by 20-ish years, give or take,” you concluded.

The pout he had grew even bigger, it was adorable, really. “Aw, man, I can’t fight you on this, you’re too smart for me,” he sulked.

You flicked a rice grain at him, “Cheer up, pretty boy, at least you’ll live far longer, I’m only human after all,” you shrugged and he whined, his ears red.

“First of all don’t call me that! It makes me feel tingly, stop it!” He pointed a finger, again, “And second, don’t remind me how short human life is! I’m really gonna cry,”

You snorted at his reaction, “First of all, it’s rude to point fingers,” you slapped his hand away, again, “And second, why not accept reality, it’s not like we can change something inevitable,”

The two of you fell into silence after that, but a comfortable silence, the type where you know Vash is thinking about what you just said. You continued to finish your food as you waited for him to pick up the conversation again.

Vash had already finished his food, so he was just waiting for you.

When you had drank the last of your water and put your utensils back onto the tray neatly, Vash took both your trays and stood up, you do the same as you both walked to the dish deposit.

The blond still hasn’t replied but it wasn’t uncomfortable anymore, and the two of you walked back to the designated room given to you by the ship’s captain, MJ, in complete silence and you strangely didn’t feel an ounce of worry.

When you were about to close the door to your room, Vash spoke up.

“Reality is something we can’t change,” you turned to him as he spoke, “And I know we have to accept it whether we like it or not, but it doesn’t mean that I can’t ignore it for even just a moment,”

You could only smile at him and his words. You know the feeling. Knowing that everyone will leave someday, even if it isn’t by death, is a hard pill to swallow, but it is the truth.

“Goodnight, Vash,” you said softly.

He met your eyes with a sad smile.

“Goodnight, Doctor L/n,”

usagi's note: thank you for waiting on this chapter! took me a while to post because i had to study for our 2 hour tests TT, all i hope is i pass, honestly... anyway, enjoy reading!! in the part where vash is talking and it comes out in '-ere' its because the ringing overtakes and is very loud to the point where reader can't make much sense of what he's saying. that's all! see you next week!

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[fruit-salad-ship]

BNHA AU: Pro Heros.

Known as 'Royal Flush' when working as a team, this trio perfectly balance each other out, called into battle when all else fails. They take difficult jobs no one else wants, because they pay better, and prove theyre one of the best teams around.

Kingslayer (Peach) Quirk: Density A notorious ball of rage, her quirk was once thought to be an anti-gravity skill, but the older she got, the more stress and anger crept in, and it became obvious that she actually changes object density, not the way gravity works around it. If calm and collected,and happy, she can float items both living and not, making them less dense than the air around her target. This is great for rescue, stealth to float into guarded areas, and to drop her whole team into a location undetected. Unfortuntly shes prone to anger, bouts of irritability and lethargy, which makes her quirk increase density of things. She has learnt to use it offencivly, fighting the biggest heaviest villains with a solid defence to take the hits making herself slow and thick skinned, and boosting swings with increased weight and heft when in close combat. Her ult is a 15ft radius density field, making anything and anyone within this range so heavy they cannot get off the ground. This does however push her body hard too, and can backfire, leaving her vulnerable to attacks after.

Queen-B (Plum) Quirk: Melodrama She'll say it stands for something else, but her team mates like to reitterate that the 'B' stands for Brat. They arent wrong. Her quirk forces those she touches to experience specific emotions, only one at any given time, and up to five targets. These feelings can be used to subdue and distract foe, or rally her team. This is particulalry useful to politely ask villains to release hostages, making them smitten, calm, suggestive, and they could very well do what she says. Her ability to extract information is top notch, and she's able to keep civilians calm and safe with it, making sure theyre not in a state of panic during emergencies. Her ult is a overdrive, and can only be used on one target at any time, pushing them to fight for her in a blind rage, as if they would lay their life down for the little woman, and can last up to an hour unless she dismisses it. Quite devestating but the cool down is drastic, her quirk becoming all but useless for a short while after. To combat the lack of physical strength, Queen takes a lot of time to practice with rifles, whips, and various other weapons that give her range. She however alwasy has a bat on her person, as a way to protect herself, along with flash grenades, smke bombs and various little items that aid in missions. Shatter Jack (Grey) Quirk: China Bull His left arm is fragile, resembling porcelain, able to touch a target and pass on a brittle property to foes. His right arm is however very robust and strong, with the power of a raging bull packed in. The combination of both makes for devestating offensive power to even the hardest individuals, and most solid defences. The down side is his left arm is also incredibly vulnerable to attack, both a strength and a wekaness, and because of the distributions of skill between them, he is somewhat easy to predict when fighting alone, but has learnt to use misderection in his strategy to counter this somewhat. His disposition makes him calm and level when forming a plan, and so he is the natrual leader of the group, as the other two can get distracted or caught up in competition/rage. He has fair stamina, but no ranged attacks, so he chips bits of his porcelain off and sends it to be made into throwing knives. Because it is made of the same material he is, he can transfer his quirk through it, as far as he can throw. It is however not selective, and if he hits one of his own, they become vulnerable and brittle for a short while. The duration and spread depends on how long he touches someone. If he can keep his hand on a foes body for five straight seconds it can sink through a whole limb. A seconds can brittle a bone, or make skin shatterable. His ult turns a target fully brittle, whole body, but his own durability also drops, making him vulnerable.

In tandem the team is pretty well balanced. Plum can put peach into a full blown rage to increase her damage output, or when the stress is too much and she needs to be fast and evasive, calm her down to make floating things far easier and more effective. Grey shatters but if peach can touch his arm, she can grant him density, making it harder to break during a fight, and if he usues his ult, she can boost his defence to help combat the lack of it he has for a short while. Plum is vulnerable to attack, but she can make her dense enough for bullets to bounce off, or make herself dense and stand in the way of harm and not take nearly as much damage. When grey needs an emotional boost, plums there, the moral the group needs, because lord knows hes exhausted some days.

Grey and Peach went to school together, buddies for a long time, she was a year above him but they alwasy walked home together, and trained when possible, their quirks worked well together and eventually they got signed to the same agency. Peach's PR however was awful, and so they brought in Plum as a ways to wrangle her, and give the company a better image in the publics eye. with them balanced, there have been less issues, though the girls do fight, it never lasts long, and has become more loving over the years.

additions:

I need to do greys one. I will.

Black diamond motif, weakness to long range attacks, brutal.