#I WISH I FOLLOWED HIM HOME SO I COULD BEAT HIS ASS IN FRONT OF HIS PARENTS

[teethburger]

misophonia is like “I need to scream and break everything in my general vicinity but if I hear a sound I will explode”

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Never Gonna Be Alone - Part Three

Summary: When a friend from college contacts you about renting out your spare bedroom to her brother, you aren't really sure what to expect.

Pairing: Modern!Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~4.5k

Author's Note: Writing has been kicking my ass lately! Happy new year!

Warnings for the entire series: language, drug & alcohol use, sex, possible angst, pining & yearning, miscommunication, bit of a slow burn, and a lot of fluff, plus me attempting to be a comedian.

Masterlist | Playlist

You said, “I’m not in love with him!” Practically shouted it, flopping face-first onto your bed with the grace of a falling tree. The mattress let out a pitiful creaking noise beneath your weight as if it, too, was tired of your antics. Your best friend watched the tantrum via FaceTime, amused as she propped her head on her hand and quirked an eyebrow. Then, noticing her expression, you vehemently followed that up with, “I’m not!” 

She hummed in response, “Maybe if you say it enough times, it’ll stick, but I doubt it.”

Your eyes nearly got stuck from how hard you rolled them. There was no way that you were going to convince her when you couldn’t even convince yourself, though, you were damn sure going to try. “If I am so in love with him, then why do I find him so annoying?” 

“Oh, now he’s annoying?” She asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Please tell me more.”

“Yes, annoying, it’s honestly kind of suspicious,” you could tell she wasn’t buying it, but you pressed on regardless. “I mean, it’s weird, like how thoughtful he is– who does that? He picks up after himself, he always leaves me the last slice of pizza, he asks about my day and then actually listens to what I have to say. It’s completely unnerving!” 

Your friend pursed and twisted her lips to the side to hide her growing smirk.

“Why are you smiling?” You asked, expression bewildered. Her’s remained unchanged. “This isn’t funny, I’m being serious. He’s ruining my life!”

“By being nice to you?” she asked, still laughing. 

You flipped onto your back with a groan and flung an arm over your eyes, as though shielding yourself from the truth, “Yes, by being nice to me! I wish that he just… wouldn’t! He’s my roommate. I’m not in love with him, okay? I can’t be. If this goes sideways, I’m fucked. I can’t exactly afford to burn this bridge.” 

She snorted, “So this is about rent now, got it.” 

You sat up in bed, ready to retaliate, but the familiar jingle of keys and the soft click of the deadbolt froze you in place. Your cheeks burned, a maroon blush creeping up your neck, as you became suddenly aware of just how thin the walls were in this godforsaken building– and just how loud your conversation had been. 

As you moved to shut your bedroom door, your pulse was irritatingly noticeable as it drummed in your ears, skipping beats loud enough that your neighbors were sure to hear. And then Aegon stepped out of the foyer and into view, and you hesitated, the door only halfway closed as you took in the sight of him; perpetually handsome, with a paper grocery bag tucked under his arm, as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his keys on the side table by the front door. 

“Hey,” he said softly, catching your eye before giving the bag a little lift. “I stopped at the store on the way home so that you didn’t ‘ave to. Picked up everythin’ on the list.” 

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, praying that your voice didn’t betray the way your pulse was still hammering against your rib cage. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I was already out,” his lips pulled into a downward smile as he shrugged nonchalantly, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to still. His gaze lingered just longer than necessary, sending a ripple of awareness through you, making you straighten your posture. “Well, anyway, didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

“You didn’t,” the words tumbled from your lips quickly, probably too quickly, betraying your seemingly calm facade– when internally, you were on the verge of imploding. Before you had the chance to embarrass yourself, you gave him a tight-lipped smile and moved towards the door to escape. “Just talking to a friend. I’ll see you later for Helaena’s art show?”

Aegon nodded, shifting his weight as though he had more to say, but before he could, you shut the door– not harshly, just enough to put some needed distance between you. The moment the door clicked into place, you turned, pressing your back against it and taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling as if it held the answers as to why you somehow managed to overthink your way into making a fool of yourself every time he glanced in your direction. Sure, it probably wasn’t as bad as you were making it out to be, but what if it was? 

“Um, hello?” Your friend's voice reverberated through the phone, reminding you that she was still a part of this moment. Out of habit, you rolled your eyes as you held the phone back out in front of your face. “Glad to know I’m totally interruptible.” 

“Shut up,” you sighed and flung yourself back on your bed. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait!” She exclaimed quickly before you could end the call. “I just have to ask, honey, do you always look that flustered when you talk to him, or was that a special performance just for me?” 

As she began laughing, you promptly hung up, jabbing the screen with your finger aggressively before face planting into your pillow with a dramatic grunt. Meanwhile, you could still hear Aegon paddling around in the kitchen, the faint sound of him putting things away; that soft, almost rhythmic rustling. It was comforting, picturing him with his sleeves pushed up around his elbows as he washed the dishes or the simple autonomic task of sorting through the junk mail or recycling. 

You truly hated thinking about it, because why torture yourself? As much as you fantasized about living in this perfect little bubble with Aegon forever, as much as you would love to continue on just like you were for the rest of your lives, you knew that eventually this would come to an end. Eventually, someone would move on and start a life somewhere else, most likely with someone else. You’ll settle for always having to put someone’s shoes away and putting the seat down yourself, and he’ll meet someone smarter and more successful. 

And for the rest of your life, you’ll always wonder. 

You held up in your room for the rest of the evening, not wanting to face him (or give yourself an opportunity to word vomit all of your affections) until you absolutely had to, and you did absolutely have to– otherwise fake an excuse to get out of going to Helaena’s first art show, and you couldn’t do that. When you finally emerged from your room, Aegon was already waiting for you, sitting back on the couch, scrolling through his phone with one arm draped lazily over the backrest. He was wearing a simple, dark green button up with the sleeves rolled back a couple of times around his forearms– allowing his tattoos to peak out just slightly– and a pair of black shorts.

It was physically impossible not to stare, but you tried your hardest. 

He glanced up as you crossed the living room, his lips twitching into a crooked smile as he stood up and slipped his phone into his pocket, “Thought you might’ve ditched me.” 

“Not a chance,” you replied with forced confidence.

Aegon grabbed his keys off of the side table and spun them around his index finger before he opened the front door; the warm, late summer breeze inviting you out into the night, “Shall we?”

The bar was tucked away on a quiet corner. A little slice of originality and warmth in the middle of the city. It didn’t scream luxury– which you typically associated with the Targaryen name– but it did have its own charm; low, cozy lighting, secondhand furniture, and walls adorned with local art. There was something real about the space, with its twinkling string lights and lingering scent of leather. It may not have been what you were expecting, but it didn’t take long to realize how perfectly it fit Helaena’s down-to-earth vibe.

Your date-for-the-night slipped off to the bar as you slipped in between intricate displays of artwork. Helaena’s primary talent was embroidery, but what was unique about her work is that she tied the embroidery into her paintings. One piece in particular caught your eye– an almost surreal depiction of a city at dusk with buildings that blurred into one another and golden threads that pulled your gaze upwards towards a beaded night sky. 

A few moments passed as you stood there, staring at the artwork, utterly mesmerized, until you could feel Aegon’s presence beside you. His footsteps were quiet, but you had become accustomed to the gravitational pull that seemed to follow him over the last few months. When you glanced over to him, his eyes were glued to the painting, expression unreadable.

“This the one?” He asked, handing you a glass of wine before taking a swig of his bottled IPA. 

“The one?” Your brows knitted together as you looked at him.

“For the flat,” his head tilted to the side and he had a playful glint in his eye. “Personally, I think we need something on the wall by the window.”

His casual use of the word ‘we’ sent a flutter straight to your chest; a warmth blooming behind your ribs. For a brief, dizzying moment, you pictured leaning in and kissing him right there in the middle of the bar as if he had just gotten down on one knee and proposed to you– yes, we can decorate our apartment together! The mental image was so vivid that it made your cheeks flush. Quickly, you masked the momentary lapse by taking a deliberate sip of wine and letting its tartness refocus your thoughts as you glanced back at the artwork in front of you. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how empty that wall is,” he continued after a few moments of silence. “It’s borderline depressing.” 

A small laugh escaped your lips, “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about wall art.”

He shrugged, leaning in to examine the painting more closely. “Look, as your roommate, I’m just trying to help. We can’t have people comin’ over and thinking we lack taste.”

There’s that word again.

“Mm, so this is about your reputation,” you teased, turning slightly to face him.

“Obviously,” he deadpanned, though the corner of his mouth twitched, “You think I want to live in a place that screams College Dorm Chic? No offense.”

“None taken,” you shook your head and bit back a smile. “But I’ll have you know I graduated from that aesthetic years ago.”

“Oh, my apologies,” he said with mock sincerity, holding his hands up defensively. “What I meant to say was ‘recently post-grad but still shopping for furniture in the discount aisle’, better?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your pulse continued to quicken with every word he spoke. “You’re so generous with your compliments. Truly, it’s a gift.” He shrugged in response and you took another sip of your wine. “But what makes this the one?”

“Because of the way you look at it,” he said without missing a beat. 

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and rendering you speechless. Your lips parted, but no clever retort came to mind. Instead, you glanced back at the piece, searching for some grounding in its soft brush strokes before you could launch yourself into a full panic attack. 

Almost on queue, Helaena’s voice cut through the quiet tension with an exuberant squeal. You flinched as the spell was suddenly broken, and took a step back instinctively. Aegon’s jaw tightened for the briefest second before he turned toward his sister as she appeared out of the crowd with a bright smile and her usual buoyant energy, completely oblivious to what she was interrupting. 

“You made it,” Helaena exclaimed as she collided with her brother in a tight embrace. Her eyes clamped shut as she squeezed him, and you could see how much it meant to her that he was there. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”

Aegon stepped back, checking his watch with furrowed brows, “You said eight o’clock.”

Helaena grinned, completely unfazed, “Seven.” Aegon rolled his eyes, but before he could say anything more, Helaena turned to you. “I’m so glad you’re here!” She pulled you into a tight hug, her energy infectious. “You look amazing!”

“Oh, thank you,” you smiled warmly at her compliment. “Sorry we were late.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it from this one,” she nudged her brother in the ribs. “He’ll be late to his own funeral one day.”

“And better off for it,” he interjected. 

Somewhere in the bar, you hear someone call Helaena’s name. She turns her attention to the crowd and sticks her hand up in the air, waving enthusiastically at a group of people standing near the bar, “Well, now that you’re here, there’s someone I want you to meet!” 

Aegon groans and throws his head back, “Stop trying to pimp me out to your friends, I’m not interested!” 

“Since when?” She laughs, her excitement on the brim of bubbling over as she grabbed her brother’s arm and tugged him toward the far side of the room.

As she led him away, Aegon glanced back at you, his eyes catching yours for a fleeting second. You smiled softly at him and tried not to think too much about it, but there was something there– a flicker of something unfinished. And then, he was gone, swallowed up by the crowd, leaving you standing there with your thoughts and the phantom weight of regret. 

You exhaled slowly, gripping the stem of your wine glass a little tighter as you downed what was left with a hefty gulp. For the majority of the evening you lingered on the outskirts of other people’s conversations, mingling with people you’d seen once or twice on campus; doing anything you could to keep your attention averted from Aegon, from the way he looked at you, from the way he looked right through you. Every now and again your eyes would find their way back to where he was, the center of attention, standing too close to one of Helaena’s pretty friends. 

You wondered if you looked at him the same way she was right now, if it was that obvious. 

What clearly wasn’t obvious enough was how uninterested you were in talking about the stock market with Greg– or maybe it was Craig– from your Urban Environmentalism class who had ‘always wanted to strike up a conversation but never had the guts’ (his words), but clearly found them after his third beer. When the topic turned to politics, however, you politely excused yourself and made a beeline for the restroom before you wound up with a headache from the unsolicited TED Talk on the nuances of trickle-down economics. 

You exhaled deeply as you locked yourself in a stall, crashing out on the toilet with a pathetic groan as you held your head in your hands, staring at the cracks in the tiled floor. 

Suddenly you’re filled with regret, not knowing that agreeing to be his plus one to his sister’s art show would inadvertently make you the odd woman out; watching him charm everyone in the room while you hovered on the edges, trying not to be too obvious about the way your eyes gravitated towards him every few moments. Maybe you should have just said no and saved yourself the torment of playing out every scenario of how this night would end– Aegon stumbling home with that girl, their quiet colloquies echoing through your thin walls, sitting in your bed forced to listen to her stifled sighs knowing it should be you in her place. 

After a long breath and a lot of internal monologue, you stood and straightened your outfit before you stepped out of the stall. You aren’t exactly sure how long you’d been using the bathroom as your personal sanctuary, but the small line of impatient girls with fixed frowns waiting outside suggested it had been long enough. You gave them a short but polite smile as an apology and reluctantly joined the party once more, only the air felt much heavier now; the mixture of pop music and laughter started to grate on your nerves quickly. 

I need a drink.

You headed towards the bar with purpose, avoiding eye contact with the groups of people you passed, hoping that no one would try and rope you into another unbearable conversation. The bartender noticed you immediately and gave you a silent nod, letting you know he was working on it. While you waited, a familiar voice drifted over the noise, drawing your attention despite your better judgement. Aegon stood a few feet away, leaning casually against the bar with his back to you. 

“Let me get this straight,” it was Helaena’s voice. “You’ve met someone?” 

Immediately, the weight in the pit of your stomach that you’d thought was regret started to feel a lot more like nausea. Maybe that fourth glass of wine had been a mistake—or maybe it was exactly what you needed to brace yourself for what was coming next. Your fingers tapped anxiously against the bartop as you waited for the bartender to set the glass in front of you, silently willing him to move faster. If he did, maybe you wouldn’t have to hear it.

Aegon laughed softly, the sound low and almost self-deprecating, “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“My apologies,” Helaena chortled. “So you’re really putting your life of debauchery to an end, huh? I don’t have to worry about you breaking any more of my friend’s hearts?”

“Somethin' like that,” he replied, voice casual, though there was a faint edge that wasn’t lost on you.

There was a pause in their conversation; brief, but long enough to stretch the tension in the air. You held your breath without realizing it, straining to catch every word over the lull of the crowd and music. Finally, the bartender set your glass in front of you, and you quickly fished your card out of your purse to settle your tab, needing something– anything– to keep your hands busy and not look completely obvious.

“It’s… new,” Aegon said finally, his tone softer, almost uncertain. “I don’t even know if it’s goin' anywhere yet.” He hesitated, the weight of his words pressing down even from where you stood. “But she’s different. Makes me think maybe I could,  y’know, actually figure my shit out.”

The confession hit like a sucker punch, knocking the air out of your lungs. You gripped the stem of your glass tightly, your heart racing as you tried to parse through the tangle of emotions swelling in your chest as you anxiously waited for the bartender to produce your receipt.

“Fuck,” you could hear the surprise in her tone. “You know I’m rooting for you, always, but whoever she is I sure hope she knows what she’s getting into.” 

The words stung, not because they were untrue, but because you knew that in some twisted way, Helaena was right. Whoever this girl was, she would never be you. You were just his roommate– the clutz who twisted her ankle the first day you met, who’s constantly locked up in her room knitting and reading all the time, and got ghosted in the middle of a date. You weren’t sure what Aegon’s type was, but it almost certainly wasn‘t that. The thought alone made your chest tighten, your body burning with the need to either run or confront him– neither of which felt like an option right now.

You slip away into the crowd, weaving between the exhibit spaces until you find a quiet corner tucked between the artwork, where the paintings bear witness to your turmoil. Eventually, you find your way back to the painting you’d been admiring earlier, the one that had seemed so perfect, so out of reach. But now, the spot where it had once hung is empty, a small placard reading SOLD in bold letters in its place.

A sigh slips from your lips before you can catch it, and you stand there for a moment longer than necessary, just staring at the empty wall where something beautiful used to be. You couldn’t even begin to describe what that painting had meant to you– maybe it was just the idea of something unreachable, something that wasn’t meant for you. You swallowed the bitterness that rose in your throat, unable to stop the frustration from seeping into your veins. 

The artwork was gone, just like the illusion that tonight might somehow end in your favor.

And then you heard his voice. 

A little too loud, a little too carefree. You didn’t even have to look to know it was Aegon. The slur in his voice was unmistakable, “I’m fucking starving.” 

Without a word, he leaned into your side, swaying slightly as he did. You could feel the warmth of him, his body still a little too close for comfort, yet somehow the intimacy of it all felt right, despite everything.

“You’re fucking drunk,” you said, unable to hide the humor in your voice. You shoved him playfully off of you, but he barely budged, his grin lazy.

“Let’s go home,” he said, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. His lips quirked into that charming smile you could never resist. “How do you feel about Jade Garden? I’d kill for a crab rangoon right about now.”

The corners of your mouth twitched upward, and for a moment, the heavy weight of the night lifted, replaced by a fleeting sense of normalcy. You didn’t have the energy to fight it, to argue with him or deny the fact that, despite the wreckage of the evening, part of you wanted to crawl into the familiar comfort of his presence and stay there for as long as he allowed. 

“Say less,” you replied, grinning as the tiredness settled over you again. “I’m going to run to the restroom and I’ll meet you outside?” 

Aegon gave you a lazy nod, the kind that made you wonder if he was really paying attention, but you were too drunk to question it. You took your time, giving yourself a moment to regroup. By the time you stepped out into the cool air on the sidewalk, the tension in your chest had thankfully softened a bit. The streetlights were warm and quiet, casting long shadows on the ground as the soft drone of city noise welcomes you into the night. 

They were standing outside the bar, sharing a cigarette; lithe figures swaying slightly as they shared a quiet, tipsy conversation. Helaena’s laughter cut through the cool night air, her head tilted back, while Aegon’s smile softened, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. You hung back, taking slow, deliberate steps, giving them their space.

“Thank you for coming,” Helaena said, her voice sincere with that raw honesty. She pulled him into a lingering hug. “You’ve always been there for me, and it means more than you know.”

Aegon gave a half-hearted chuckle, his voice soft but teasing. “If you start crying–”

“I’m not going to cry,” she interrupted, breathless with the weight of her emotions. “I just love you, you twat. And because I love you, I’m going to give you some unsolicited advice. You need to call him, Aegon.”

He rolled his eyes, his grin faltering for just a second. “I’m not interested in anythin' he has to say.” But his expression immediately shifted when he caught sight of you approaching. He gave you a nod, trying to shift his tone. “Hey, you ready?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled softly and turned your attention to Helaena. “It was great to see you!”

“Aw, thank you again for coming,” she wrapped her arms tightly around your shoulders and then pulled away. Her gaze shifted between the two of you and then her smile widened, “Take care of this one, for me?” 

“I will certainly try my best,” you smirked.

Without another word, Helaena bounced back into the bar, disappearing quickly within the crowd, leaving you and Aegon alone.

He tossed his cigarette to the ground and snubbed it out with his foot. The lingering smell of smoke hung in the air around you as the moment settled, the cool night wrapping around you like a familiar coat. It felt quieter now that it was just the two of you, but not in an uncomfortable way. The kind of quiet where you could actually hear your thoughts instead of pushing them aside, and you weren’t sure if that was necessarily a good thing after everything you had seen and heard earlier. 

You wanted to ask him about this mystery person that he's met, but you couldn’t without it sounding like, ‘hey, I was totally eavesdropping on your conversation with Helaena and heard you met someone, please tell me who it is so that I can stalk her on Instagram later’. Okay, that thought you could totally push aside before letting it eat you alive. 

Aegon cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly under your gaze. “So, Jade Garden?” he asked, his tone lighter now, the casualness back, as if nothing in the world had just been turned upside down. 

“Yeah,” you said softly, voice steady.

He stepped to the side casually, grabbing something that he had propped against the building and tucking it under his arm. You recognized the shape instantly; a canvas, wrapped in brown paper to protect the artwork underneath. When his eyes met yours, there was something quietly triumphant in his gaze, and a small, mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as if he were both proud of his subtle gesture and waiting for you to catch on.

“What?” he asked innocently, noticing the way your gaze lingered.

You blinked, caught off guard for a second, but the realization hit you like a wave. "You bought it," you said, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "You actually bought the painting."

 “I could tell that you liked it,” He chuckled and started walking, his steps slow enough to match yours. “And that wall by the window is just so empty!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you followed his lead, your thoughts swirling. "You didn’t have to–" you started, but he cut you off, his grin widening.

"I wanted to," he said simply.

He glanced down at you, his smile softening into something warmer.  For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had finally fallen away and your intrusive thoughts had finally been silenced. In this moment, all that mattered was the simplicity of being here together, regardless of the unknown of what might come next. It didn’t need to be figured out right now, because right now, this– this unspoken understanding– was enough. 

Tag List:

@thhriller, @primroseluna @elllielewiss, @mrs-starkgaryen, @watercolorskyy, @belovedbastardremus, @hardyshoe, @notafairyteen, @notsuremarie, @mxauthor, @queen-of-elves, @louieluvly, @justmymindandstuff, @thetwentyeightclub

[biibini]

Hiii! I love your hcs! Can I request a scenario of going on a date to an arcade with Mizu? (and possibly winning her a Snoopy plushie??)

fluff modern!mizu x reader at an arcade date (request)

tags: fluff, arcade date, modern!mizu, reader & mizu are already dating, date nights, snoopy reference, sweet kisses, author loves love, author wishes that was her with mizu

a/n: thank YOU for reading my hcs! that one mizu & snoopy post is so adorable i just want my girl to be happy :,) also i’m starting school AGAIN i can never catch a break w this damned quarter system

modern!mizu & u are already dating in this scenario

but every other week would be a date night

it didn’t matter if it was a simple or extravagant date

it was always a designated time to catch up, spend quality time together, and experience new things

even with the busyness of college and classes and homework, it was still a night to look forward to

this upcoming friday was a night at the arcade

u had been there with friends before but it had been a couple months since ur last visit

it was also mizu’s first time going to the arcade w u as a date

u had already talked ab the games u wanted to try together such as the mario kart, a few shooting games, airhockey

modern!mizu would def let her competitive side come out with some games

she already gets competitive with taigen when it comes to sports

she totally doesnt rock his shit in basketball

if she’s against you, she’ll go easy on you

doesn’t mean she won’t back down from a fight

You and Mizu were hand in hand, checking out the games available at the arcade. Going down one of the aisles, you found yourselves at the some of the newer arcade games. Skimming at some of them, you hear a familiar sound.

Hadoken!

It was soon followed with a grunt and fighting groans. You turn back to find a Super Street Fighter game, patiently waiting to be played. Your eyes widen as they found the perfect challenge.

You playfully tugged at Mizu’s hand, pointing at the retro machine.

“I bet I can beat you at the Street Fighter.” you said, lightly jabbing at her competitive spirit. You knew she would put her all in it. However, you wondered of its limit.

Mizu glanced at you, and then looked back to spot the machine. Her eyes ignited, seeing the challenge put right in front of her by her

“You in?” you say, defying her in a playful tone.

“You bet.”

so um

turns out that was the WORSE POSSIBLE GAME YOU COULD CHALLENGE MIZU TO

u played a little bit with friends and family but mizu was on another level

how exactly did mizu beat ur ass for 5 rounds straight???

old man eiji.

he was a retro arcade go-er during his prime

even had the game console to continue his practice at home

if he wasn’t welding or fixing up someone’s bike, he was definitely spending his time grinding on the game

so modern!mizu end up playing games with him bc he got sick and tired of the computer bots

Player 2 Wins blinks again on the screen while her character, Ryu, celebrates another round of victory. You slowly turn to face Mizu to find a grin forming on her face.

“Wanna go again, baby?”, she taunts, hugging your hips closer to her.

You blankly stare into her eyes, your orbs empty from defeat. Mizu already knew your answer.

“Let’s find one we can both do.”, she said as she gave you a quick peck on the cheek. Her arm wrapped around your shoulder, beginning your hunt for the next game to win together.

modern!mizu would def try to win u a prize

actually no not one

all of them. yes she will try.

do not let her in a round1

iykyk

that is plushie heaven and credit/debit hell

her poor card will be spent trying to win u a prize

she wouldn’t outright announce her achievements

but she would attempt to sneak away from u, hoping to get lucky and win a plushie or two

u loved and appreciated the sweet thought

but

there was no room on the bed, the bookshelves, the desk, the couch

mizu even brought a couple plushies back home but her old man started to complain about mizu and u coming by just to drop off plushies and not see him

(he likes the plushies but bro is alone with his craft and misses his girl sometimes)

if u eyed any specific prize, modern!mizu would stop for nothing to earn it for u

at the arcade, u eyed a snoopy plushie, stuck in a claw game (for a little too long) and pouted at how cute it was

like cmon it was rlly cute

he had a puffer and a lil hat

mizu immediately saw ur reaction and locked in

Mizu’s arm slides off your shoulder. You look back, hoping to find the missing arm. No arm, no Mizu.

Instead, you find her striding over to the claw machine you just stared at with a goal in mind. Snoopy was coming with you, one way or another. The thought of Snoopy being in your arms was nice, but there was no way she was going to get it.

First off, your bedroom was already filled with plushies. Peace and love to all of them. They were practically your babies. However, every flat surface or shelf had a plushie. Every. Single. Surface.

The bed was crowded as well. No way there would be space for another plushie. There was also no way that she would go back home to drop off more plushies. Eiji was at his limit with the amount she dropped off during the last time.

Secondly, she had already spent so much money trying to get twinning plushies for the both of you. Her poor credit card was taking hit after hit after hit. Mizu drastically failed after every attempt and you had to basically pull her away from the machine after her 11th time.

Third of all, the both of you were getting ready to leave the arcade for dinner. After getting demolished by Mizu 5 rounds in a row at Super Street Fighter, you didn't have much energy in you to play more games.

But once Mizu gets set on something, it's hard to pull her away from it. It was already difficult separating her from her failed claw games earlier. You just decided to accept the outcomes of this claw machine this time around.

On the other hand, Mizu was in the zone. She studied the position of the plushie, focusing on how far back Snoopy sat. She slid the arcade card, starting her future attempts to retrieve the plushie. She bit the inside of her cheek as her hand carefully held the joystick. The machine jingled, starting its countdown.

0:30

Mizu took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

Focus Mizu.

0:29

You can get this for Y/N.

0:28

Mizu opens her eyes, pushing the joystick to the right in hopes of aligning the claw with Snoopy. She then pushes the joystick forward, nudging it as it gains proximity to the dog plushie.

0:23

The claw seemed right above Snoopy. Although it made you satisfied, Mizu couldn't agree. Something felt off.

0:21

She nudged the joystick to the left once.

0:20

Still unsatisfied, she pushed the claw back. Her eyes squinted, hoping to gain a clearer view of the claw and its alignment.

0:18

She continues to stare at the placement, studying it. Almost watching it like prey.

You watch from behind as you hear the faint sounds of laughing and other arcade games being played go off. In front of you is complete silence and concentration.

0:10

Mizu nudges the joystick forward.

0:09

She gets closer to the game. At this point, her face is practically smudging her view.

0:07

She nudges the joystick to the right once again. She sees the claw fully aligned with the plushie.

0:06

Should I press the button?

0:05

Mizu's eyes glance up and down, hoping to draw the line between the claw and your future prize.

0:04

You watch as her right hand is sitting on top of the collect button. Her fingers are so close to pushing it, practically edging the top of the button. They're ready to take the chance yet her hands refuse to commit.

0:02

"Drop it, Mizu."

0:01

She nudges the joystick one more time, bringing it slightly forward.

0:00

You come up next to her, watching the claw machine slowly descend down to the gigantic pile of plushies, a mix of Snoopy merchandise. Yet only one got your heart.

The claw extends, closing in on the plushie you stared at earlier. Its thin, metal arms wrap around Snoopy's head. It tightened its grip, securing Snoopy in the arm.

You watch the plushie slowly ascend. The both of you carefully watch the claw bring the prize. As the claw continued its journey to the drop-off corner, it slightly swung back and forth. You grab Mizu's right hand, holding it in anticipation and fear. She squeezes it once.

You look up to meet her gaze only to find a reassuring smile. You mirror her, giving her one back. You hear a small thud below. Mizu bends down to find your beloved Snoopy, handing him to you.

Your eyes widen. Snoopy was much cuter up close, especially with his little hat and baby blue puffer jacket. Looking up, you spot a proud Mizu. You simply get closer to her and give her a sweet kiss on the lips.

"Thank you, baby."

"Of course," she answers. "Anything for you, my dear."

She backs away and extends her hand out: an invitation to lunch.

You smile, accepting the invitation. With intertwined hands, you leave the arcade with another plushie in hand.

[angels-fantasy]

Congratulations on your followers milestone! Can I ask for the prompt "first fight" with Dabi?

Scars and All

Dabi/Touya x Reader

Details/Warnings: lowkey toxic relationship, arguing, kinda angsty LMAO i'm sorry i cant help but make dabi angsty. hurt/comfort i think, angst to fluff? dabi is trying, okay? also dabi is called touya in this fic!

Word Count: 957

hello thank you sm for your ask and the congratulations :) i hope you like this, i really like dabi bc 1) hes hot lol and 2) hes such a well written character. also i'm going to start writing in all lowercase bc its what im used to and upper case drives me crazy!!

loneliness was something that consumed you constantly. it was a scary feeling sometimes, especially because of the things it could drive someone to do.

you wished you didn't feel like this, but you couldn't help it.

before getting into a relationship with touya, you knew of the lifestyle he lived and how much of his time it took up. at first you thought you could handle it, but over time you soon realized that wasn't true. hours of him being gone quickly turned into days, sometimes even weeks and it was driving you crazy. you really wanted to try and continue to sit compliantly and let him do what he wished to do, but you were at your wits end.

sometimes you wondered why you even continued to put up with him, especially when you knew deep down that he'd probably choose to continue committing villainous acts over your relationship.

but you knew the answer to that-it was because you loved him, and sometimes love can make you do crazy things.

so now here you were; sitting on the old couch in your living room. the edges of the fabric having frayed ends and burn marks here and there from the moments touya let his temper get the best of him.

you can't remember how long you've been sitting there anxiously, waiting for your boyfriend to get home, but you felt your heart beat faster when you heard the front door being unlocked.

you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants and took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself to confront touya, who sighed as he walked through the door and his heavy boots thudding along with each step.

he walked over to you and threw himself down on the couch, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. moments like this made it hard to stay mad.

he placed a kiss on your temple, "hey. you miss me?"

you fiddled with your fingers as you leaned further into his chest, "of course i did. i'm glad you're home."

he tilted his head down to look at you, "then how come you don't sound happy, huh?" he asked, squeezing your shoulder as he did so.

you frowned, knowing he'd caught onto your bad mood already. he was way too perceptive sometimes.

"i am happy touya, i promise." you insisted, "it's just..."

"it's just what?"

you sat up from your position and faced him, but it was hard to look him in the eyes. "i just wanted to talk to you about something that's been bothering me."

he looked at you for a moment, expressionless, making you even more nervous until he said, "alright, what is it?"

you took a deep breath.

"you're never home touya, and i miss you." you frowned, "i worry about you and when you're gone for so long i get lonely. i miss spending time with you."

he groaned, "babe, do you not understand why i'm gone? or do i need to tell you, is that it?" he asked.

you regretted this now.

"no, i know why but it's just-"

"if you know why, then why do you fucking ask me?!" he yelled, making you shrink into yourself. you two had bickered over things before and there were even times when you needed space from each other, but touya had never yelled at you like this.

you could feel your eyes prick with tears and the lump in your throat grow, "touya don't yell at me!" you cried.

"i'm yelling at you so you get this through your god damn head!" he snapped, "i can't be here, sitting on my ass like you every fucking day. i have shit i need to do to make my plans happen!"

you gasped at his words. did he really think that's all you did?

"you know damn well i don't just stay at home on my ass, touya! i work too!" you said, tapping his chest with your finger as you pointed it at him.

"i buy the groceries! i make the food! i wash your blood stained clothes! i do everything i can, but you don't know because you're never here!" you yelled, taking a deep breath after so you could continue speaking.

you sighed heavily and spoke softly, your energy gone from yelling. "you're never here touya..." you sniffed, letting the tears run down your cheeks. you brought your hands up to your eyes to wipe them away, "i love you, so i miss you. i just wish you were home more so i don't have to spend my nights all alone."

touya was breathing heavily, but sitting silently as he processed your words. he was perceptive, sure, but he wasn't really good with emotions and dealing with people when they were upset.

feeling guilty, he wrapped his arms around your crying figure and hugged you tightly to his chest. he brought a hand up to your head and stroked it gently, shushing your cries. you stayed like that until your crying had become sniffles with occasional hiccups.

"i'm sorry," he said softly, "i'm sorry i'm always gone. i fucking suck at this, i don't know how to be here for you... but i'm going to do better now, for you, okay? i love you too. i don't say that enough."

you brought your hands away from your face and wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning your head against his beating heart and closing your eyes.

"as long as you try, touya. i know you're not perfect, and that's okay with me. i love you the way you are."

"scars and all?" he asked jokingly, making you giggle.

"scars and all."

authors note

love ya!

[candybarz]

Gojo Headcannons

Warnigs: nsfw, contains the following, perverted things (panty stealing, fantasies, kinks), pussy slapping, literally just sex.

not proofread

i feel like gojos a nasty motherfucker despite his looks, like a extreme closet pervert. he would watch a lot of porn, to either take his leaking dick and beat it or just for fun.

he would probably steal all your panties too, like a theif...he just cant help himself its just something about them that fuels his perviness wether it was the smell or the taste he loved them.

he would order food and make you go get the food at the door as he sat alone in your room, the moment you stepped away from the door, he snatches a panty and puts it in his bag.

then then when he gets home his dick is raging for him to touch it. he skips his way to his phone and puts his headphones on and picking a video with the girl closest to your body and strokes his dick at the same pase the people in the video are going. he could almost cum right then and there.

now were getting to the freaky deaky shit, he loves slapping your pussy, he would be leaned up against the headboard and your in-between his arms as he rubs your clit, he gives a evil smile as your eyes are shut and he raises his hand and gives a rough slap on the pussy making you jolt up.

he felt himself leak at the whimper you let you and started spanking your pussy roughly before your covered it and clamped your legs shut glaring at him. he also loves palming it like he would walk by you while you would be on your phone or distracted and he would wind his hand and palm in-between you legs while gripping before you would punch him in the hip.

whenever your away he fucks a sex doll, you know the ones that are just the thighs and the waist, with no arms or legs or head? those ones, he loves fucking them as he hits the "cervix" of the doll.

the sweet sounds of your moans filling his ears as he pounds into the fake doll, pushing it into the bed. he moans at the feeling as he smacks its ass wishing it was you. gripping its waist for dear life as he thrusts into it as the tits jiggled in his face.

he also has some nasty fantasies. like wild shit.its an intrusive thought he wont act on...most of the time. he once thought of fucking you anal style...and he did. you let him fuck your ass, spreading them for him.

you let out moans of either pleasure or discomfort, he didn't care. he came inside your ass after you told him not to and once he slipped it out of the hole after you were done squirting and creaming all over the place, you jumped at your phone to figure out how to get it out of your ass as you hit gojo.

he has one where he wants to be gangbanged by you and geto. or get caught fucking geto or getting fucked by geto -by you(☺️)

he put an apple in your mouth, gagging you like a pig and it made him hard, so he fucked you on the floor. he also likes you humping him, dry or not.

gojos a secret sub only you know it...hopefully...

he once grabbed your panties as he fucked you and put it in front of your neck and pulled, fucking you like that was one hell of a time before you got a scratch on your neck from it rubbing on it too roughly. he also likes to cum in your hair, face, eyes, or rubbing it in your hair on purpose, anything to make you look like a total porn star or slut.

he likes eating ass too. i said it.

now kinks? oh man. he loves you being helpless as he fucks you. he also likes cutting off your air ways, he loves seeing your face change color before he lets you breathe again. you on the other hand, being treated like a slut was your biggest kink. and his...was being dominated by a man *cough* geto.

he and his best friend are...close...VERY close...

you have a suspicion...

BONUS!

you kept bouncing on his thick cock, skin slaps filling the air wasn't the only thing getting filled. you moaned at every bounce, clawing at his chest. "gojo!" you whined bouncing as he guided you, flicking your clit making you squeal. he let out different whimpers as he slid you onto his cock like it was nothing. "f-fuck princess j-just like that." he whimpered and groaned as your walls sucked him in. "I can't! 's too much!" you whined and cried as you kept bouncing, tits jumping aswell.

"im gonna cum!" he said thrusting harder, digging his nails into you. you hissed at his nails and kept sliding down on it, he watched your pussy take him in and he lost it, he started wailing like a bitch as he came into you with no warning as he fucking his babies into you. "fuck princess you're getting tighter." he panted fucking you as you cried his name "fuck gojo, slow d-" you said before you started squirting all over him like crazy.

"yeah just like that baby, so fucking hot." he grunted playing with your pussy as you squirted. you fell down onto his dick, panting trying to catch your breath. "one more?" gojo asked getting hard again and you felt it. "ill treat you like a slut?" he promised you as he leaned into your ear. "ill stuff you full of my fucking kids, you little whore. hows that sound?" he said grabbing your hair and you were horny again. you put your hands on your knees as gojo leaned back onto the bed and let you get to work. you started moving up and down on his dick with no help making him start moaning again.

part 2? lmk

[thelov3lybookworm]

Mine? (Part 3)

Part 1

Summary: He finds what he wished he hadn't.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: ahahaha i love how this is going😈

anyways, enjoy!

(dividers by @saradika-graphics)

Y/n's hands rested on her hips as she studied the cupboard she had placed in the corner of her room, debating whether the pink onesie was cuter or the purple one.

After all, Adelaide needed to look adorable for her uncles.

In the end, Y/n settled on the red one.

Y/n grinned down at her daughter as she put tiny red clips in her hair, Adelaide babbling up at her.

"Are we so happy today? Is it because we're meeting uncle Nash, Jamie and Xan? Is that it?"

Adelaide squealed at that, shoving her fist into her mouth.

Y/n laughed, straightening when she heard her phone ringing. She quickly picked Adelaide up, gently letting the babe rest on her shoulder as Y/n hurried over to where her phone buzzed on the living room coffee table.

"Hello? Nash?"

"Nope."

Y/n rolled her eyes at Jameson's voice. "What's up Jamie."

"Nash wanted me to tell you that the driver has arrived to pick you up."

Y/n's eyes widened as she glanced over to the clock on the far wall. "Oh? Okay that's great, I'm about to leave the house."

A loud crash came from the other side of the line, and Y/n winced, a fond smile taking over her face. "Do I wanna know?"

"Nope." Jameson seemed to be laughing as he spoke. "It's just Nash handing Xander his ass. Nothing new."

Y/n hummed, then said her goodbyes before hanging up, shoving her phone into her pocket before hurrying out of the house and into the car. She was alert, her eyes constantly flitting around to make sure she was not about to be jumpscared by Grayson.

She found a shiny black sedan with dark, tinted windows waiting just outside the apartment entrance. The driver, clad in an all black suit stepped out, opening the door for Y/n, and the sight of the middle aged man made Y/n smile.

She gave him a nod of greeting before getting in the car, moving slowly so as not to jostle Adelaide.

Y/n felt triumphant when the car started to drive down the road because she had managed to avoid Grayson, who had been visiting her and standing outside her door everyday for the past three days.

Little did she know that the blonde man had been frozen in astonishment on his way to her apartment building when he saw her get into the car.

Little did she know about the white car now following her.

Grayson was surprised- to say the least- when she left her house. He was very aware of how his presence was causing her distress, and if he was being honest, he hated how he had somehow begun stalking her. So to remedy that, he was going to go to her house today, slip a note through her door, letting her know that he was leaving, and then fly back home.

He still wanted to meet with his daughter, because however unplanned and a surprise she was, she was still his, and he was not going to abandon his child the way his father had abandoned his. But that was probably not going to happen anytime in the near future, and he was not blaming Y/n for trying to keep their daughter away.

So when he spied Y/n getting into the black sedan, his interest was piqued.

And like any normal human would do, he put his foot down on the accelerator and sped after her.

In hindsight, he shouldn't have, considering he had an inkling who she was going to meet after recognising the driver of the vehicle, but if she really was going to meet who he thought she was, then he didn't know what he was going to do.

The car turned into a street Grayson was familiar with, and when the car came to a slow stop in front of the palace like hotel, Grayson's heart started beating in an uncomfortable rhythm.

She could be meeting with anyone, right?

He tracked her figure, his eyes fixated on the little hands wrapped firmly around Y/n's body as she entered and vanished behind swinging glass doors.

She could be meeting anyone. Not necessarily someone he knew.

Anyone.

The moment he could no longer see her, Grayson hurried to park his car in front of the hotel, shoving the key in the hands of the staff member who came to assist without looking and followed Y/n.

He could only get a glimpse of her retreating form before she turned the corner to get to the elevators, and Grayson hurried over to the reception.

"Which floor was she going to?"

The receptionist, a young girl, blinked at him.

"I'm sorry sir, but I can't give you that information-"

"Alright fine, here. Let me check into my room." Grayson slapped his black card down, impatient.

The girl's eyes widened before she grabbed it. After a moment of typing away on her computer, she glanced up at Grayson, looking like she might cry.

"I'm sorry sir, but someone's occupying that room who-"

"Then empty the room." Grayson cut her off before he could hear the words he was dreading, but she continued on like he hadn't just spoken over her.

"Someone who has the same card checked in yesterday evening. Three people actually."

Grayson stared at the girl, his breathing hard, before he realised he was not acting like himself. So he straightened his posture, let his mask slip into place, and glared at her.

"They won't mind if I give them a little visit."

She looked annoyed at that. "I can't let you-"

"Good morning sir. If you'll just follow me this way."

Grayson turned around to find the manager of the hotel, the one Grayson knew very well, glaring at the receptionist before leading Grayson away.

It was a few long minutes before Grayson reached the top floor, and, his heart beating in his throat and blood rushing in his ears, he reached out to tap the card in his hand to the door.

He found what he wished he hadn't inside.

Four pairs of eyes staring straight at him in horror.

One of them Y/n.

The other three pair of them?

His brothers.

Mine taglist: @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @blocked-zombieartist @lillycore @lanterns-and-daydreams @bubybubsters @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch

[minimomoe]

Love Bites

Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro (mafia au)

word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters

tags: Fluff, grumpy x sunshine, found family, a little angsty but nothing too bad, marriage proposal, established relationship, (last chapter only: kitchen sex, creampie, oral- fem receiving, other sexxy funtime stuff)

Chapter Eight: Sparkling Juice

“I want you to open my present first!” Yuji shoves his present into your hands. Nobara plucks the haphazardly wrapped present out of your hands and puts her own to replace it. It had crisp edges and was topped with a bow. “She’s obviously going to open mine first, Yuji!”

“The only correct answer is opening mine first,” Megumi says, taking the basket holding your present out of his white dog’s mouth. Both black and white dogs had reindeer horns, but the white dog had Rudolph's nose attached to his snout. You laughs

 as the kids argue with each other, and Toji watches you from across the room. He smiles to himself, adoring the way that you are fully relaxed with everybody in the family. The dogs lay beside your feet, their tails wagging lazily and tongues lolling. Before the kids dragged you to open their presents, you were showing off the christmas sweater you had handknitted to Suguru, which you had made for Megumi and Toji to wear as well. Toji didn’t know how you knew his size so well, and the same went for Megumi, but they both fit perfectly. Forest green cable knit sweaters that had snowflakes carefully embroidered into it. You had shyly presented them to Toji and Megumi along with their other presents, as if you were afraid they wouldn’t like your first gift. He was speechless when he opened the box. How you managed to make them both sweaters and take care of the bakery was a mystery to him. Megumi had taken off his shirt right away and put it on, then tightly hugged you. Toji followed suit and ignored the pestering questions from Sukuna who wanted you to make him a sweater too. 

You open Megumi’s small box first as he wished and you are greeted with a tiny ceramic butterfly. It’s a blue morpho, and in one of the wings your name was painted into it. You gasp and carefully take it out of the packaging. 

“You made this?” You say in a hush voice. 

“Yep. You said butterflies were your favorite!” Megumi smiles up at you. 

“I mentioned that ages ago. Thank you, Gumi-bear,” you wrap your arms around him and press kisses into his forehead. The little boy's face was beet red when you let go of him, but when he turns to face Yuji and Nobara he sticks out his tongue. 

“Beat that!” 

When the gift exchange is over you, the kids, and the rest of the adults move to the dining area to eat. Gojo decided to be the host of Christmas this year, and you could tell that he really loved it. Him and his girlfriend decorated the chairs and seating arrangements with tiny Santas and wreaths. Glasses of non alcoholic, sparkling juice in fancy champagne flutes were placed right in front of the plates and Yuji grabs his and downs it in one sip. Nobara is quick to smack the back of his head and lectures him on table manners. You sit in between Toji and Megumi, and directly across from you sat Choso and his partner. She’s a pretty yet quiet girl, just like you. You give a soft smile and she returns it. Toji grabs your hand under the table and brings it up to your lips. 

“After we eat we can go home. I still have to give you your present,” he says. 

“You got a present to give me, big guy?” Sukuna says from down the table. Toji shoots him an annoyed look but everybody else snickers. 

“Yeah, let me get the right sized boot to shove my foot up your ass. You can keep it after that.”

“Language,” Nanami warns, making the other two men stop barking at each other. He carries a gorgeous honeyed ham baked to perfection from the kitchen. “Do you want ham?” He asked you softly and you nod enthusiastically.

“Did you make this yourself? It smells amazing, Kento.”

He grins and cuts you a slice. “Nanamin is a great cook. He makes a lovely wife,” Gojo pipes up. 

“Being a housewife doesn’t sound too bad,” he mutters for only you to hear and winks. “I poisoned one item on your plate,” he says offhandedly to Gojo. “Eat it if you dare.” 

Gojo gasps dramatically and all the children burst into laughter. The meal was filled with jokes and laughter the entire time. You forgot how wonderful Christmas is when you have people to share it with. 

You and Toji decided to leave once Megumi could barely hold his head up anymore. He had stayed up all night just for the sake of staying up and now the lack of sleep was catching up to him. Toji hauls him in his arms while you carry all the gifts you three received and herd the dogs into the car. Toji safely buckles Megumi in and climbs into the driver seat and immediately holds your hand. 

“You didn’t cry this time,” he comments when he starts the car. You roll your eyes and scoff. 

“I didn’t cry on thanksgiving! I had something in my eye.”

“For thirty minutes?”

“Eyes lashes are tiny,” you mumble and he laughs. “So… do I have to beg for my present or is it waiting for me when we get home?”

“I like it when you beg but it’s already there.” Toji runs his thumb over your knuckles. You stare at him curiously but if Toji didn’t want to explain something you couldn’t get more information out of him. What you did notice is the nervous tapping his forefinger made on the steering wheel, making you wonder what sort of present could make him this nervous. 

Arriving at Toji’s home looked the same as always. You thought maybe he had gotten you a new car but that didn’t seem to be the case. You gather the presents once again and the dogs dash into the backyard. Megumi, bleary eyed and still sleepy, forces himself to walk so that he can see your present too. Toji stills at the entrance into the houses and looks back at you one last time. “This is only one part, but I figured you should see this first.”

“Open the door!” You and Megumi say together, and you drum on his arm and he shakes his head. 

He opens the door and you enter the home hand in hand with Megumi. There was nothing new that you could see immediately. The foyer looks the same, there’s nothing on the stairs or in the living room. You look back to give Toji a confused look and he points to the dining area. You creep over there, noting the way that Megumi’s hand tightens around yours. To your surprise it’s not an object that’s waiting for you in the dining chair, but rather a person who’s back was facing you. The person hears you moving behind them and turns around, making you freeze completely. 

“Merry Christmas,” the man says to you, and tears quickly fill your eyes. 

“Ezra?”

Chapters: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

M.list || Ao3 || Twitter || Ko-fi

[h0nology]

A Long Walk

Let's take a long walk around the park after dark, find a spot for us to spark

warnings: not proofread. wrote this at 12am, half asleep but its been on my mind for too long. fluff, kissing

You exit out your office, hurrying down the steps, eager to get home and start your long weekend.

Thump!

Your briefcase hits the ground as your body collides with another. Without even looking at the person in front of you, you reach for your briefcase but they beat you to it, picking it up and handing it to you.

“In a rush to get home, huh?”

When you looked up at the man, you weren't expecting to be met by such a beautiful face and familiar too but you couldn’t quite put your finger on where you’ve seen it before.

“I need every second of this weekend.” You let out a soft laugh, still mesmerized by the man in front of you.

He looked at you for a second, his eyes scanning over your face as a smile crept up on his. "Ah, I see," he chuckled. "Is this your office?"

You look back at the beautiful building that you are lucky to call your office. It’s been a long time coming, but you're grateful that your writing career has brought you here.

“Yes it is, actually.”

He clicks his tongue, looking up at the building before shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as a cool breeze passes. "Hey, uh, would you like to go on a walk with me?"

“A walk?”

Wasn’t really in your weekend plans but you couldn’t seem to say no to the handsome man in front of you.

"I'm Pedro, by the way. Sorry, I should've started with that." He says, pulling his hand out of his pocket to shake yours.

You gladly shook his hand, telling him your name in return. "Yes, Pedro, I'd like to go on a walk with you.” You replied with a smile.

He smiles back, surprised that you had actually said yes as you two began to walk side by side.

“Do you always go on walks with strangers or am I special?”

“There’s a first for everything.” You shrug, looking up at him.

"True," He agrees. "So, big fancy office. What is it that you do?"

“I’m a writer.” You tell him

“Oh really? What do you write?”

This was your favorite question, you loved talking about your writing.

"Anything my heart desires, really. My range is as vast as romance to sci-fi.” You reply.

“Is that what you’re working on right now?”

"Well, I wouldn't say working on...writer's block has been a pain in the ass.” You admit.

“Writers block…” He chuckles, “That’s a new one.”

“Enough about me, though.” You wave it off, “What is it that you do?”

Pedro was honestly in shock that you didn’t know who he was, but also in awe. He had finally found someone who he could click with, without it feeling forced or uncomfortable. He wanted to ask you ‘You really don’t know who I am?’ but then he’d be the jerk.

“Well, I act.” He tells you, “I’m an actor.”

You were expecting a photographer or a bank teller, anything but that. You admit it's a bit sad how out of touch you are with the internet. You don't really follow the latest shows and movies because you're usually nose deep in a book or writing your own.

“Do you find that hard to believe?” Pedro asks after you don’t respond.

“No! No, not at all.” You laugh, “What are you in?”

“Have you heard of Narcos?”

You wish you could say yes. You didn’t want to downplay his accomplishments of what he has acted in but you really have never heard of it.

“I’m lame, I’m sorry.” You shake your head, chuckling a bit.

“You’re far from lame, trust me.” He says, “Plus, it’s good to know this could be something genuine.”

“This?”

“Us.” He clarifies.

“So there’s an us now?” You ask, looking at him, “Get a girl a drink or something first.”

You just happened to be walking up on a smoothie shop, you swear you hadn’t seen it until Pedro smirked at you, doing a weird and overly dramatic gesture towards the sign. You laugh, walking in as he held the door open for you. The two of you entered the small and crowded space, placing your order and waiting for the blended goodness to come out. You took a seat as Pedro stood and waited for the smoothies, mindlessly you took out your notebook, jotting some thoughts down that had came to your mind as you studied the room around you.

“Inspiration flowing?” Pedro’s voice snapped you out the trance you were in.

“Yeah, that couple there reminds me of my characters.” You point your pen at the couple sitting down, the girls head resting on her boyfriend’s shoulder as he typed on his computer.

You hear Pedro chuckled before speaking, “Cmon, I want to show you something.”

You finished up your jotting, closing your notebook before standing up and following him out the shop, letting him lead the way to wherever he wanted to take you. As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the sky, Pedro eventually hooked his arm with yours. The sky was painted in hues of pink, orange, and gold, and you couldn’t stop the thoughts for your book from coming in.

You two stopped in front of a pond, the sun reflecting on it beautifully. There was a bridge in the distance, the sun slowly but surely setting behind it. The gentle breeze whispered through the trees as you two stood there. You had finally turned towards him, looking up at him with his beautiful brown eyes.

“So why’d you want to show me this?”

“I wanted to show you something as beautiful as you.”

He's full of surprises. You didn't expect that at all, trying to hide the smile creeping onto your face. Your eyes dart between his eyes and lips, as his do the same, before he leans in and kisses you.

Your lips met tenderly, like two delicate petals brushing against each other. Time seemed to stand still as you savored the moment. It was a gentle exchange, filled with warmth and affection.

“Maybe you can put that in your book.”

[dragonflylady77]

This is one of the first fics I wrote and it's been gathering dust in my GDocs, waiting for me to write more.

I'm not sure I will, so in the meantime, you get to read it.

~~~☆☆☆~~~

Stop flirting and get in the house

A 'that night at the Byers house' ficlet for @lovebillyhargrove because she's the sweetest and i love her to bits. ❤️

Read on Ao3

“Am I dreaming or is that you Harrington?” Billy says, cigarette dangling from his lips as he takes off his leather jacket and throws it in the car through the open driver window.

The other teen sighs, hands on his hips. “Yeah it's me, don't cream your pants.”

Billy mutters, “Wouldn't be the first time…”

“What?” Shock in Harrington’s eyes and something else… Billy can't tell for sure because it's dark and he might be willing it to be there. Just a little bit. He also realises he said it out loud.

Fuck.

“What?” he says, trying to derail this exchange they're having.

Smooth…

“Oh, now, come on, I wanna hear you say it.”

“Fuck off, Harrington, I'm just here for my sister.”

“See, I wish I could believe that.” Cocky asshole. Acting like he's still that King Steve Tommy keeps yammering on about.

The way he’s standing shows he really wants Billy to get back in his car and fuck off.

Too bad.

Billy doesn't have time for the posturing, not when he's already met Neil's fists once tonight and knows he will meet them again if he comes home without the red-headed pain in his ass.

“I don't give a fuck what you believe, pretty boy. Now hand over my sister. I don't know what bullshit you and the weird kids get up to, but I know it's not worth me paying for it.”

The look on Harrington's face goes from cocky to worried in the space of a breath. “What do you mean, paying for it?”

Billy realises he's said too much. “Fuck this shit.”

He takes a few steps closer to the house, still a distance away from Harrington. Can see the kids in the window, a flash of red. Bellows, “MAXINE!!! TIME TO GO, shitbird.”

“Now wait a minute, there, Hargrove.” Steve moves to stand in his way, hand up, just shy of touching him. “You can't just—”

“You don't wanna test me right now,” Billy bites out, teeth on edge. “Move, pretty boy.”

“Make me.”

That's the moment Max chooses to come storming outside.

“Oh my god Billy, would you stop flirting in front of the children.”

Billy glares at Max before his eyes focus on Harrington again and the way his brown eyes are glued to Billy's chest. He feels his heart skip a beat then.

Maxine pushes past Harrington who's still staring. “Billy, I can't go home, there's serious shit going down.” She stops, waits until he sets his eyes on hers and he can see her make a decision. “We could use your help.”

Billy can't believe his ears. “Oh now you want my help?”

That snaps Harrington out of his trance. “What? Max, we can't—”

“Steve, listen. I know he's an asshole, but he's my brother and I think his anger issues could come in handy.” She turns to Billy. “No offence.”

Billy shrugs and lights a smoke. He knows he’s an asshole with anger issues.

“MAX!”

Does Harrington have to shriek this loud?

“What? I'm sure he'll enjoy smashing those demodogs just as much as you do.”

“I'm not giving him a weapon!”

Billy grunts. “He is standing right there.” He sighs. He’s tired, he’s sore and he’s reaching his limit with all the fucking posturing. “Max, what the fuck is going on?”

“Come inside and I'll explain”

“I don't think that's a good idea,” Steve pipes up.

Max rolls her eyes at Steve and walks back into the house.

Billy steps past King Steve with a smug smirk and follows Max, partly because he’s curious to find out what’s going on and also because it’s pissing Harrington off.

He hears Harrington groan behind him and can feel him following close.

When he enters the lounge, Max is in a huddle with the weird kids and they’ve having a hushed argument about him.

He stops and feels Harrington crash into him. The feel of the other teen’s warm body behind him creates a shudder he has no time to stop.

He moves away a bit to lean on the doorframe and crosses his arms in front of him while he waits for the children to decide he’s worthy of knowing what the fuck has them all in a tizzy. Like he fucking cares.

“Max, no…”

“Just do it Dustin.”

“Ugh. Fine”

Billy feels pride bloom in his chest for the way Max takes no shit from those teenage boys.

Billy watches the curly-haired one walk into the kitchen and stop in front of the fridge. The kid looks at Billy then at Max who nods. With a sigh, the boy opens the fridge door and something tumbles out of it.

The silence in the kitchen is eerie as Billy takes in the… creature… that fell out. It’s dark grey, half wrapped in a sheet or something, roughly the size of a big dog, but its head—there’s something wrong with its head, it’s like a freaking flower with teeth.

Billy guesses it’s one of those demodog things Max mentioned outside. He’ll definitely need a weapon if that’s the kind of shit Max and her gaggle of boys are up against.

He pulls out a cigarette and lights it, ignoring the dark look Harrington sends his way. He’s never met Mrs. Byers, but her house is a mess right now, and there’s some dead flower-headed monster in her fridge, so he doubts she’ll mind much if he smokes in her kitchen.

Billy straightens up and sets his eyes on Harrington. “Alright, I’m in.”

The weird kids all start shouting again and Max runs to him, wrapping her arms around his waist in a rare hug that has Billy floundering.

He awkwardly pats her on the shoulder, turning his head to breathe out smoke away from her, because he’s a considerate brother like that.

“Fine,” Harrington says, coming into the kitchen to stand in front of Billy and Billy wants to laugh because King Steve is clearly not the one in charge here.

[lokis-army-77]

Wild Hearts Pt. 1

Cowboy!Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 1866

Reader is back home from college and ready to show her father she has what it takes to help out with the farm, little does she know the new ranch hand will be somewhat of a pain in her ass... until he isn't.

Warning: Nothing in this chapter except the reader calls her dad "daddy" a few times, but obviously not in THAT way.

Masterlist 

next>>

College had been an experience, to say the least. The stress of taking five to six classes a semester and taking mini-semesters in summer and winter I had little time for myself and barely any time to call home. I never thought I would miss the smell of the barn or getting up before the crack of dawn to help with the long list of daily chores. The closer it got to graduation, the more anxious I was to return home. I craved the rolling hills and the beauty of the Appalachian mountains, I needed to feel the wind in my hair as I rode my horse through acres upon acres of pasture, her hoof beats falling into rhythm with my racing heart. I was a cowgirl born and raised and college life had drained me.

The flight back home had been a late one and thankfully only lasted around four hours which gave me plenty of time to try and sleep. But, even though packing and waiting at the airport almost all day had exhausted me so much that the crapy airplane seats were actually comfortable, I couldn’t get any rest. 

Thoughts plagued me of how the ranch might have changed in the almost three years I had been gone. Mama and Daddy always kept me up to date but our last real phone call that didn’t involve the planning of my homecoming, was maybe five or six months ago, granted there were texts in between but there were just to say ‘hi’ and ‘I love you’, maybe to wish me luck on a big test. Even though I was nervous, I was excited too. I was ready to see my family. 

…

When the plane landed, I rushed to the baggage claim, grabbed my suitcase, and then hightailed it to the exit where I spotted my dad waiting just past the exit doors, cowboy hat and all. I raced to him and he took me into his arms, hugging me tightly. 

I could feel his chest shaking as he chuckled. “Nice to see you too, Baby doll.” 

“I missed you so much.” I hugged him tighter.

He just laughed and shook his head. “You saw me a week ago when I came to put all your stuff into the moving van.” 

“Yeah, but a week is such a long time.” I finally let him go, standing back to smile widely at him. 

“Come on,” He reached for the handles of my luggage. “Let's get you home, your Mama’s dying to see ya.” 

I followed him to the old beat-up blue pickup truck that stuck out amongst the shiny new cars in the parking garage like a sore thumb. The passenger-side door creaked as I opened it and the smell of the ranch hit me square in the face, hints of hay and horse. Sparse glimpses of brown and white hair were the tale-tell sign that our border collie Maggie had been sitting on the scratchy cloth seats. There was dirt everywhere inside but it didn’t matter to me as I sat on the warn dirty seat next to my Dad, it was familiar. 

As we drove we fell into easy conversation. Mostly about my time at college and what’s been going on at the farm, all the stuff that was never said over the phone.

“Your brother has started driving. Nearly gave me a heart attack when I let him practice by driving the hour to town on Thursday.” Dad laughed. 

“Lord, Dad, you have more courage than me. I would never get within fifty feet of him inside a motorized vehicle. Remember when he tried to run me over with the lawn mower when he was seven?” I sighed, remembering being chased around the front yard by a child who was hysterically laughing at me as I tried to get away from him. 

“Yes, I remember.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. 

“Even though he tried to kill me, I’m excited to see him. Did he really have to get sick right before my graduation?” 

“You know him, the kid always ends up with a bug during important events. Missed the first day of Spring round up this year 'cause he had a fever.” 

After that, we settled into a nice quiet, I turned up the radio and the sounds of Kenny Rogers, George Straight, and Waylon Jennings poured into the cab. I mouthed the words as I watched the fields pass us by in the dark, I could only imagine what it would look like in the daylight. Wide open fields with either cattle or horses grazing, plenty of corn growing as well as other crops, and the mountains in the background with the clear blue sky above. 

…

I was kicked out of my daydream when the radio was turned down when we were maybe thirty minutes from the house. I turned to look at my dad, eyebrows raised in silent questioning. 

“Almost forgot to tell you but we hired a new ranch hand a couple of months back when Alan hurt his back. He’s a few years older than you so you’ll  get along real well.”

“Oh, okay. That’s nice to know Dad.” I paused. “Does this new guy have a name?”

“Uh, we call him Munson but his first name is Eddie.” 

I nod, listening to him. “Cool, maybe I’ll get to introduce myself to him tomorrow. We don’t ever get new people around here.” 

I could feel myself becoming more and more excited as Dad finally turned onto the old dirt driveway. It curved through the hills and pastures for almost three miles before the lights of the house could be seen and even then it was another two before you pulled up to park. 

The sky was as clear as ever and it was almost like you could see to the ends of the universe as you looked into the night. Never had I missed something more than when I looked up at the night sky when I was in college only to find that the light pollution dulled out the stars so much it was almost like they had never existed.  

As we came closer to the house, I could see two awaiting figures backlit by the front porch light. Mama and Randy, our other ranch hand, stood waiting. Mama jumped up and down as Dad parked the truck then bounded down the stairs and directly to me. Throwing open the passenger side door she took me into her arms. 

“Oh, my baby girl.” She planted dozens of kisses all over my face. “Missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too, Mama.” I smiled, laughing as she squeezed me into a tight hug. I hugged her back as best I could with the restriction of the seatbelt and the awkward position. 

“Was your flight okay? Are you hungry? Sleepy?” 

“It was long but good,” I answered. “And yes to both. I’m dying for something to eat and my own bed.” 

She let go then, allowing me to unbuckle myself and exit the vehicle. 

I couldn't help the giddy laugh when I spotted Randy's lanky form striding past my parents as they hugged. He opened his arms and I ran to him. He picked me up and spun us around before placing me back on solid ground. 

"I've missed you, Trouble." He squeezed my shoulders tight. "Let's get a good look at ya."

He held me away from himself and studied me as I smiled widely at him. 

"I'm no more trouble than you are." I laughed at the nickname he had given me as a young child. 

“Mumhm, if you say so.” He playfully ruffled my hair before pulling me into one last hug. “Really glad you’re back.” 

“Me too. I’ve missed this place.”

“Well, it’s missed you too. I think the horses could tell you were gone. Plus it just never felt the same without you buggin’ me all the time.” 

I pushed away from him, my face stuck in a permanent smile. Randy had always been like an unofficial uncle to me, especially since he was Dad's closest friend and had always been in my life.

After the greetings in the front yard, we moved into the house where I sat down and Mama began cooking a late-night dinner of farm-fresh eggs and crispy bacon. It was a meal I had longed for since leaving home and now I was finally getting it. 

It tasted like heaven on a plate and I devoured every bit of it, even asking for seconds. I hadn’t eaten in hours and there was just something about traveling that made you extra hungry, especially in the middle of the night. 

When the food had been eaten and all my things had been brought upstairs to my room, everyone told me good night. Mama and Daddy both gave me a kiss on the cheek before closing the door and letting me settle in. 

My room looked the same as it had before I left. It seemed Mama had been keeping up with the cleaning because there was no trace of dust or the slightest stuffy sent rooms get when they’ve gone unused for a while. The small twin bed still had the old white comforter on it with the colorful patchwork quilt my grandmother had made, before she passed, draped across the foot. I traced the painted white wrought iron bed frame with my fingers, it was cool to the touch. 

Turning around I looked at the wooden dresser. I eyed it wearily, thinking about how I would have to put all my clothes up soon, but that could wait a few days. While thinking of clothes, I went to my suitcase, which was lying on the floor beside my bed, and pulled out my pajamas. 

It felt nice to be in something so thin and simple, like a spaghetti-strap tank top and shorts. Having my travel clothes off of me felt so relieving like I had been cleansed in some sort of way. 

I turned my light off next and was about to climb into bed when out of the corner of my eye, I saw the lights of the barn. Usually, they were off by this time of night as we neared almost two in the morning. So, I walked over to the window and leaned over my desk to see outside. To my surprise, in the light of the barn door, was a man. With it being dark and the only light on him being from behind. It wasn’t Daddy and it wasn’t Randy, so it must have been the new guy, Eddie. 

He was working on something I couldn’t quite see, but fortunately for me,  I could see the way his biceps bulged against the shirt he was wearing even from this distance. I watched him for the better part of ten minutes before he paced back into the barn and the lights shut off. After that, I had no clue where he went. 

So, with new thoughts about the new guy, I fell back onto my bed. Exhausted and excited to be home.

...

Cowboy!Eddie taglist: @munson-blurbs @munsonology @my-malachai-stilinski @tiannamortis @chrissymjstan @chelebelletx @breathinfive

[billieonmars]

The Dreams of a Shepard

Notes: This was something I wrote for a creative short story assignment in school. It's basically an Alchemist fanfiction twisted to fit the theme of 'following your dreams'. Anyways, hope you enjoy (it's kind of ass lol). Also I'm well aware that the 'omen' stuff is nothing like it is in the book, it would just be a lot to fit in a short story so I changed it around.

The slow pace of the camel is sending Santiago mad. He needs it to pick up its speed and run straight for the pyramids. But the road's path is long, harsh, and full of thieves. He must be patient. The village they are crawling towards is a small, homely place of families. It is a common pitstop for travelers like him and the rest of his band as it saves them from the unwavering heat of the day and the bone chilling cold of the night. The heat is why he wears the scarf around his head and the long fabric around his body. But still he can feel the rays of sun beating down on his face, warming the tanned skin and forming a red, sore, hue. It is midday now, the sun is at its peak and there is no shade for miles to save them. Slowly, another camel strides next to him, an old man sits upon its back. His eyes are squinted against the sun with his bushy, white brows blocking the yards of sand from them. Just like his own, the poor creature is saddled with bags. But Santiago knows they are strong, he had seen one defending itself from a jackal not two days ago. The old man also wears a scarf around his head, but his is a green that matches his tanned skin. Eventually, the man speaks.                                                                                            

“The heat is unbearable, and the cold leaves nowhere to escape. This place wants no man to walk its sands and yet here we are.” He glances at the young man and smiles. “Why are you here from where you are coming, traveler?” The old man could tell he isn’t from the desert.

“I wish to see the Pyramids.” He knows it’s barely a reason, something so small that it was ridiculous that he would come all this way. He’s used to the confused looks people give him when he tells them. But the old man merely smiles and looks forward. 

“That’s all? The Pyramids are something to behold. They are grand and powerful but you may find the trouble wasn’t worth it.” Santiago tells him. 

“I’m from Spain. I worked as a shepherd for my father sense I was young. It took me to places around the world, yes, but not the places I wanted to be.” He takes a moment to sigh. “So I sold my sheep and used the money to travel here. I had an omen, one that you remind me of. An old man who claims to be a king, he sent me here to follow my dreams. And here I am.” He felt himself reminiscing on the memory. It only happened a month ago and yet it feels like he is looking through another man's eyes, watching another man’s memories. 

“I hope this omen serves you well. You must have interesting stories of your travels, coming all the way from Spain. Tell them to me as we ride, the heat makes my head clouded and I need a way to stay awake.” So Santiago settled into his camel and began to tell his story.

When Santiago first stepped into the sandy land of Egypt he felt his spirits rise. Despite the blistering heat on his skin and sand in his eyes, he stood proud as he felt one step closer to his dream. The Bazaar stood in front of him with many merchants and shoppers all trying to bargain. His Spanish clothes wouldn’t cut the desert environment, so his first stop was a clothing merchant. The woman sold scarves and long tunics, some colourful and some the colour of the sand between his toes. He paid her well for a red scarf and a brown tunic; she told him they were called a kaffiyeh and a galabia. He wrapped the scarf around his neck and continued on his way. 

While browsing other merchant’s tables, Santiago heard a call. The man calling to him was standing a little outside of the market. He was dressed as all the other Egyptian men but he held a strap of a camel's headstall. He spoke in Arabic, but Santiago only spoke a few words. He approached the man and replied in Spanish. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Arabic.” The man’s eyes lit up and he smiled. 

“Don’t worry, brother. I speak little Spanish but enough.” His words were broken and hard to understand under his accent, but the sentiment was understood by Santiago. “Why are you in Egypt, my friend?” He told the unknown man of his dreams. “The road to the pyramids is tough and long. Won’t you need a camel? I have one here, it will suit you well.” He hadn’t thought about that; he was too excited to actually see the pyramids that he didn’t think about how he would get there. 

He took out his bag of coins and got ready to pay. He didn’t know how much a camel would cost, but he didn’t think it was his entire coin bag. 

“That’s a lot for a camel. I don’t think I will need one, I will catch a ride with a caravan.” The smile on the man's face dropped, and his hand went to his pocket, pulling out a jagged knife. The man took his money and anything else of value, which wasn’t much as he sold most of his belongings to get to Egypt. The man left with his money but not the camel. 

By the time he finished his story, the old man was looking unfazed, it wasn’t his first time hearing such a tale. Their camels continue at their slow, rhythmic pace. The village was now visible and closer than ever, Santiago only thought of laying down out of the heat. 

“I’ve heard tales like yours many times. People come to Egypt for wonder and adventure, but they don’t realize people here are starving as well. They need food on the table, they get that however they can from foreigners who don’t know better.” They didn’t speak for a while until they came upon the entry of the village. 

“I will see you again, friend. Thank you for keeping an old man awake on a long journey.” Santiago nodded his head in reply and said goodbye. 

The village is small but comfortable, as is his shelter for that night. The journey from their last stop took all day, now the heat from the red sun flew away and the cold from the grey moon surrounded the air. He falls into a rough sleep; his mind races until his eyes shut closed and he has dreams of terrible things. 

He first dreams of thirst, terrible, unquenchable thirst. He dreams that an oasis is only feet away from him but his tired body drags itself across the sand and can move no longer. Secondly he dreams of a group of men all armed with knives and some with swords. They yell in a jumble of muffled Arabic which he cannot understand. And lastly, Santiago dreams of never getting to the pyramids, of dying a short journey away; so close but so far. 

He wakes early, the sun hasn’t yet risen but he knows he needs to go. He has a feeling so deep in his stomach. If he does not leave now he will never see the pyramids, and he will never return home. So he moves quickly, shoving food and water into a bag which was given kindly by the village. He leaves his tent and finds his camel close by. He jumps on its back and they start moving by themselves; no other travelers. 

It’s dangerous to travel alone, that he knew. But something spoke to him that night. He knew it was his omen; the old man. The camel’s feet sunk over and over into the hot sand. They traveled far from the village and Santiago felt the chill turn to heat over the past few hours. His camel moved more slowly than before. It is tired as is he from the heat. His water is already low; he was never good at rationing. He still has food, but he knew better than to eat it. It will feel like plaster mixing with his saliva, gluing his tongue to the top of his mouth. The food will not help anyways, water is the only thing that can make him last. 

Two hours after midday; the worst of the heat is behind him but its effects weigh heavy on his shoulders. His head hangs low and his eyes shut. He had already taken the keffiyeh from his head and put it around his hands that were rubbed raw from the camel’s leads. His water is gone, his food fed to his camel. The poor thing has eaten it as if it was his last meal. It probably was. He has to make a decision now, he is still close enough to the village to last the journey back for more supplies. Does he go back or continue? He can’t wait. Santiago didn’t wish to sustain himself any longer. He needed his lasting energy to get him to the pyramid and he could fall asleep, never to wake again. 

Once the chill of the night has set in, Santiago is in and out of consciousness. His body has gone past the need for shivering as he lays motionless to the cold air. He has nothing to shield himself from the cold with. He’s left open and exposed to the moon’s misty stare. His eyes are open, but they are lined with sand. With every blink he can feel the sand shift under his eyelids and drag across the expanse of his eyeball. His breathing is ragged, almost unnoticeable under his clothing. With each expansion of his lungs, his ribs cry in pain. But despite his condition, the camel went on. Its steps are wide, covering as much distance in each spurt of energy as it can. 

The sky turned pitch dark and the air turned below freezing. Santiago shut his eyes and allowed the camel to continue. 

Without his knowing, the camel stopped with the weight of hunger, thirst, and Santiago. Before falling to its knees and succumbing to the night, the camel tipped Santiago off and into the sand. Its eyes shut and the both of them lay under the blanket of stars and on the bed of sand.  

Santiago is awake before he opens his eyes. At first he believes they were glued shut, then he remembers the day before. The sand rings his eyes, crusting over the lids and he has to use all of his energy to pry them open. The sun is beginning to rise, casting an orange glow on the sands. The thirst is unimaginable, he needs water. He suddenly remembers his dreams; thirst, hunger, and failure. They had all come true. With the weight of his dreams crushing him, he stands. 

Pulling himself to his feet took 30 minutes. The pain plagued his body as it protested. “lay down and be done with it,” his muscles whispered to him. Something fueled him, something he has never known before. Once he is up, he sways with lost balance. The camel lays next to him. It had never opened its eyes again. Santiago looks around. All around was sand, sand, sand. Nothing but sand. What could he do? Was there anything to do? The questions blurs his mind and his eyes. Nothing feels real; not the sand between his toes, not the faint wind blowing in his hair, and not the heat touching his exposed face. He has failed. 

Before long he is on his knees, just as the camel is, losing all the hard work of standing just moments ago. The heat waves blurs around his eyes, blinding him to what lay before him. All he can do is wallow in his pity. His father was right; he was born a shepherd, he should have stayed a shepherd. In this moment he wished for the touch of the sheep; of soft wool and a barnyard stink that came with them. It is almost funny how when he was with the sheep, he wished to be in the desert, and now that he’s in the desert, he wishes to be with the sheep. 

Suddenly he lifts his head. He hears a noise that is human. It’s not the noises he heard earlier of hyenas laughing or of tumbleweeds skipping in the sands. It’s voices. The heat waves blur his eyes. Is that real, what is in front of him? His eyes strain, needing to know if what he is seeing is a mirage or not. It can’t be real, he is seeing things that aren’t there. He is tempted to turn to the right, expecting to see a pink leopard rolling around like a house cat and playing with a ball of yarn. He needs to see another hallucination, to confirm it’s not real. Nothing is there. 

He can’t stop himself, he needs to know if it is real. He needs to touch it. He uses his arms to drag his body across the grains of sand. He leaves a trail behind him as if someone is dragging a dead body to bury it. He might be a dead body soon enough. He doesn't allow the thought to linger. All that matters is the sight in front of him. His hands slip across the sand as the small pieces slip between his fingers, not allowing him a good grip. 

As he comes closer his speed picks up, his legs start working. A rush of energy flashes through him as if someone connected two wires in a circuit. He grunts and groans as his body protests the movements but his mind keeps him going. 

He comes closer. It is real. It is real, he is sure of it now. As his hand touches the rough, grainy surface a spark runs from his fingertips, through his arm, and into his heart. He has done it. He didn’t fail, he has made it to the pyramids. His head falls, touching the ground and his hands reach in front of him as if he is bowing to the large structure. 

The tears fall fast, pouring from his eyes like the current of a river. The sand soaks them up, appreciating the wetness opposed to the dry heat. No sobs come from his mouth, the tears are silent under the stare of the three pyramids. He sits in front of the smallest; the Pharaoh Menkaure, son and grandson to the larger pyramids of Djoser and Khafre. Even the smallest, towers over his head, casting a long shadow to the left of him. 

As his tears continue to fall, a hand is placed on his shoulder. It is heavy and fatherly as it belongs to an old man. Santiago looks up from his weeping, surprised at who stands above him. 

“Omen… I’ve made it.” His voice holds the weight of his long journey; quiet and raspy. The old man smiles down at him. 

[libraryofgage]

I know it's not the WIP Wednesday yet, but it is my birthday, so I'm gonna share the complete first chapter of Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins for your reading pleasure lmao:

"Now, Steve, you know we support you. Your father and I didn't bat an eye when you came out, and we look forward to meeting whichever nice young boy or girl you bring home. But, dear, violence is never the answer."

The words go in one ear and right out the other as Steve watches buildings rush by outside the window. He’d slip on the headphones around his neck, but Steve knows he at least owes his parents the courtesy of naked ears after they bailed him out. Really, he just wants to take a shower and change into clean clothes after spending a night in jail surrounded by equally sweaty and beat up parade-goers. Don’t get him wrong; the people were great, but the smell was atrocious. He lets his head fall against the window, eyes shutting as he breathes through a bruised rib, split lip, and swollen eye. 

"Steve, are you listening to your mother?"

"Yeah, violence bad," he mumbles, just loud enough to be heard in the otherwise silent car. At this point, he’d even prefer the stadium country that usually plays when his dad drives. 

He wishes he were back in the jail cell, swapping stories with the others who got arrested for fighting homophobic protestors, who started it, by the way. He knows his parents are disappointed in him for fighting (and, even worse, getting caught and potentially causing An Incident for them), but he felt genuinely happy sitting on the concerningly sticky floor in that cell. Even if he could go back to yesterday, he wouldn't change a damn thing after seeing three poor kids surrounded by people shouting the most vile things. 

They had looked terrified, tears crowding in their eyes as they clutched at each other, and Steve had seen red. It was a fucking pride parade, a place where kids should feel comfortable being themselves and seeing themselves in the smiling, laughing faces of strangers whose mere existence proves they’re not alone and they’ll survive. But they were being harassed by people with nothing better to do than let hate shrivel their hearts.

Steve, thankfully, hadn’t been the only one who’d seen red. He’d locked eyes with someone who had top surgery scars and a sash across their chest that read “Queer” in sparkling, rainbow letters. Next to them was a shorter woman with close-cropped hair and a flannel shirt (how she wasn’t dying in the heat, Steve will never know) with a white t-shirt underneath that had “Resting Butch Face" emblazoned across the front. The three of them had shared a nod and marched over to the kids.

He later learned that the person wearing the sash was named Daze (“They/them pronouns, unless it’s comedically appropriate to use something else,” they’d said in the jail cell, winking playfully at Steve). The butch went by Mar; she’d excitedly told Steve in the jail cell how her girlfriend would bust her out only to laugh her ass off when said girlfriend was shoved in by two cops not a second later.

What had followed the nod was Mar and Steve standing in front of the kids, creating an unmoving shield while Daze quickly gathered them close. They smiled at the three, quietly complimenting one’s rainbow hair ribbon while Steve tried to be the voice of reason (he shouldn’t have bothered, but he’s still got a little optimism inside).

The first punch was thrown by the ringleader of the protestors after Mar not-so-subtly implied that maybe he’d rather be partying with them and getting his tongue down some cute twink’s throat instead of holding signs and shouting. She’d taken the punch like a champ, and Steve’s grin mirrored hers when the wonderful, incredible term “self-defense” suddenly became applicable. 

Daze had gotten the kids out of there, keeping them calm even as more people joined in the fight, turning the little skirmish into an all out brawl. It had lasted five glorious minutes before cops finally broke it up, forcing protestors and pride-goers into cars together in zip ties. They had realized that was a bad idea when a drag queen headbutted a protestor for what he called her.

After a night in jail, bonding with his cellmates and writing down numbers with some femme’s spare lipstick on the back of a flier from an AT&T booth, his parents had arrived to bail him out. Steve had taken one look at them, at their business clothes and designer watches and worried, beyond confused expressions, and almost said he’d rather just stay behind bars for now. 

Instead, he convinced his parents to post bail for a few of his new friends, waved off their gratitude (they’d been through battle together, after all), and followed his parents out to the car after a few hugs and promises to make a group chat so they could hang out later. 

“You’re just lucky no charges were filed,” his father says, pulling Steve from his thoughts. 

He sighs, slumping down in his seat. A few seconds pass before Steve admits, “I’d do it again.” It’s the truth; he wouldn’t fucking hesitate to throw himself into the fray again. He doesn’t even know those kids’ names, but he knows they deserve more than being afraid of who they are and the monsters that masquerade in human skin around them. 

His parents glance at each other, a thousand words spoken in the brief moment of eye contact. “Steve, are you…okay?” his mother asks, her words hesitant. “I mean, you can tell us anything, dear, and we’ll do anything to make you feel better.”

Steve bites his tongue, refusing to ask how they’d manage that when they’re barely fucking home in the first place. They have a whole multi-million dollar company to run, so he gets it. They have to travel a lot, and they used to bring him along until just dropping him in Indianapolis sophomore year of high school (right after coming out to them, which he understood but was still hurt by) to have a “more grounded high school experience." Somehow worst of all, they try to make up for it with extravagant gifts and awkward conversations about whether he’s still gay or if he’s decided to be straight for the day.

They’ve yet to fully understand the concept of bisexuality, but this is far better than being kicked out of his home.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Steve says. Because he is. He’s just…tired. 

He’s tired of feeling alone in Indianapolis despite being surrounded by people. He had tried making friends, but everyone is so fucking awkward in 10th grade anyway, and the best Steve could do was embrace the “new rich kid” persona people created for him. He’d soon gained the nickname King Steve, which had only worked to make him feel like he’d somehow done something wrong in living up to their expectations. The closest he’s gotten to feeling like himself, to feeling accepted and embraced, was in that fucking jail cell.

Even worse, Steve is tired of this ache that tugs at the base of his spine and the pit of his heart like he’d find something that’s missing if only he’d just follow the pull. 

He doesn’t know how to explain any of that, though, so Steve just sighs again and says, “Maybe…maybe I could do with some down time. Like, a gap year before college or something. I think I just need some time to figure myself out a little more and decide what I want to do with my life before jumping right back into school. Does…does that make sense?”

“Yeah, Steve, it makes a lot of sense,” his father says, flashing him a tiny smile through the rearview mirror. “So, where do you want to go? Hawaii? Miami? Venice is nice this time of year.”

Steve can’t help a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Nah, nothing like that. I think small town vibes are more what I’m going for here.”

His father just hums quietly, sharing another one of those looks with Steve’s mom. He misses this one, but he’d probably be suspicious of them if he hadn’t. He would have known immediately that they were about to do something absolutely ridiculous but well-meaning but so clearly telling of their ignorance when it comes to how people who aren’t wealthy approach problems.

But he doesn’t see, so he doesn’t know.

And when he looks back on this moment a few months later, after the absolute ride of his fucking life, Steve will think it’s a good thing he didn’t notice. If he had, he’d have said something, and then he’d have missed out on all the fun.

[catnoir27sblog]

My serect Santa is @inuyashamybeloved

It was a regular day at Hillside College for a girl named Kagome. She was studying for a health test in room 237. There was a boy who was also studying for a health test. He was in the room next door to Kagome. Little did they know how their day was going to go today.

"All right class, I will give 10 more minutes to work on your test. And then you will go to Mr. Hank's class next.” Said Mrs. Hannah. So after the test was done, they switched classes. When Kagome went to get her notebooks for the next class out of her locker. She accidently dropped one of her notebooks.

“Here you dropped this.” Kagome slowly looked up to see who was speaking to her. There standing in front of her was a very good looking guy. His hair was long and black as night. His brown eyes seemed to be hypnotizing as she looked into them. This was the first time Kagome ever saw this incredible looking guy.

A blush came to her cheeks, as Kagome took the book from his hand. “Thanks for picking up the book for me, um… what’s your name? Kagome asked.

A smile came to his lips as he replied. " My name is IunYasha. And I’ll see you at lunch, followed by fourth period.” Kagome was a bit shocked to hear that they would be having classes together later on.

Two Hours had quickly passed since Kagome had last seen InuYasha. The lunch bell rang and soon the lunch room was filling up with hungry students. iunYasha was already eating when Kagome arrived with her packed lunch. When she saw him waving at her, she slightly blushed and headed to where he was sitting.

Kagome had her mind on InuYasha and before she knew it. CRASH! Kagome was tripped by a mean girl named Joy. “Watch where you’re going bitch, honestly don’t you have any respect?!”

Kagome felt so embarrassed. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you standing there.” Joy only turned up her nose and walked away.

InuYasha quickly went to Kagome and helped her up. “Are you okay, Kagome?” InuYasha asked. Keh, that damn Joy, she’s the rudest person I know. I hope someday she gets her ass kicked.”

Kagome slightly chuckled at InuYasha’s words. “It’s okay, as long as I have my lunch I’ll be good. Can’t think on an empty stomach you know.” Both InuYasha and Kagome laughed at her little food joke.

Soon InuYasha’s cheeks turned red, before he asked. “Kagome, I wanted to ask you something. Would you mind going with me to see a movie tonight? I’ll pick you up around 7 if you’re interested?”

Kagome smiled and quickly answered. “I’d really like that, InuYasha. See you at 7.” They both could feel their hearts skip a beat from the pure excitement of the night ahead. There was just something about Kagome that InuYasha liked.

After school both InuYasha and Kagome headed home to prepare for the night ahead. When the clock chimed 7, Kagome heard a knock on her door. She quickly ran and opened the door. There he stood, so captivating in his blue jeans and red jacket. “Ready to go, Kagome?”

Kagome smiled brightly and nodded “yes”. As the couple walked down the street, fellow classmates whispered and smiled. They were happy to see InuYasha with Kagome. After all she was a lot better compared to Joy who cheated on InuYasha during the winter dance. Turns out Joy bullied InuYasha in middle school and later cheated on him with some guy who was a bigger bully than Joy.

“And where are you two going?!” Both InuYasha and Kagome turned to see Joy standing in front of them. Her arms were crossed and her foot was tapping hard on the sidewalk.

InuYasha stepped in front of Kagome, holding out his hand ready to protect her at all costs. “What do you want, Joy? Don’t you have a boyfriend to bully instead of us?”

Joy chuckled. “You’re right I do have a boy to bully, and he’s standing right in front of me. Now be a good boy and get your ass next to me. We’re going to my place and to have sex!”

“Feh, you wish bitch!” InuYasha yelled. Me and Kagome and going to the movies, I’m done listening to you! Now move and let us pass before I get angry.”

Kagome could feel InuYasha frustration and anger as she rested her hands on his back. She knew the history between Joy and InuYasha and feared what would come next. “InuYasha, maybe we should go home to my place. It might be safer, who knows what Joy will do if we stay here.”

However this time he wasn’t backing down. “No, no more being controlled. No more being bullied by this heartless witch. I’m done running and rolling over for this piece for of trash. We are going to the movies and if I have to fight then I will!”

Joy only smirked, she had another plan. “Very well, but I’m warning you both. Paybacks are pure hell, especially coming from me.” With these final words, Joy walked away, but she didn’t go far. Pulling a key from her pocket, she chuckled. ‘I’ll see you very soon my pet.’ Joy smiled at her dirty thoughts.

Turning around, InuYasha noticed the unsure look on Kagome’s face. “Kagome I’m so sorry you have to be in this mess now. Maybe we shouldn’t go to the movies tonight.”

“Yeah that might be best, InuYasha. Not that I don’t want to go out with you. I just don’t trust Joy, she’s so hateful to you. And the whole sex thing just kinda made things worse.” Kagome lowered her head and started walking away.

InuYasha felt lost, he really didn’t know what to do. He wanted to run after Kagome, he didn’t want her to leave. ‘The only one I want to have sex with is you Kagome. Dammit Joy, why can’t you just leave me alone!’ InuYasha thought, as his fist tightened into a ball.

The walk home for Kagome was hard, and depressing. She was starting to wonder if she and InuYasha should really be together. ‘Joy will never let me and InuYasha be together. I should just forget him and move on.’ Once Kagome was home she went to her room and flopped on her bed and cried.

While on InuYasha’s side of town, there was a different kind of hell. “Welcome home my dear.” InuYasha froze when he heard Joy speak his name in the darkness of his room. “So is the movie over already? Such a shame, now be a good boy and come pleasure me!”

When InuYasha turned on his light he was disgusted to see a naked Joy laying in his bed. “Really, you think I’m going to have sex just like that. Sorry, but done. There’s nothing you can do that will make me lay with you.”

Joy laughed and replied. “You will if you want that Kagome girl to stay unharmed. Let’s just say she’ll have more than a broken heart once I’m done with her. Now this is your last chance.” InuYasha hesitated but did as Joy wanted. Little did he know Joy was filming the whole thing and after the deed was done she sent the video directly to Kagome.

Heartbroken and devastated, Kagome made her way to school, but refused to look at InuYasha. He tried to talk to her, but every time she turned him away. It wasn’t until Joy showed him the video did he understand. “You son of a bitch!” InuYasha yelled out as he tackled Joy. His anger was beyond anything he had ever seen.

Kagome watched as InuYasha was a mixture of anger and tears. She started to understand there was more to the situation than she knew. “I only did that to keep Kagome safe from you, but you hurt her all the same. It ends today bitch!”

InuYasha was about to punch Joy in the face as hard as he could until a hand stopped him. “Please InuYasha, don’t sink to her level. It’s okay, I understand now. Please don’t do this, I’m here and I love you.”

InuYasha dropped Joy and hugged Kagome tightly. “I love you too, so very much. And honestly I only want to give my body to you, not her.” Hearing all of this and knowing he was out matched today, Joy moved on and left. To this day no one knows where she went. Not like anyone really cared.

It had been 3 months since the whole Joy thing happened and prom was coming up. InuYasha had asked Kagome and everyone was excited to see the couple. “You know when we get home you’re all mine tonight. No more waiting, Kagome.”

Kagome chuckled. “Oh InuYasha, I swear you never change, always wanting to get in my pants. Or up my skirt most of the time. Honestly I’m not Joy. You can’t just have a girl anytime you want one. There’s more to love than sex.”

“Feh, yeah well I can’t help how hot you look tonight. Your tits just keep calling me closer.” InuYasha went to squeeze one of her breasts, but she slapped his hand away. “Dammit!”

“Serves you right Mr. Now let’s go to our Prom and act like adults, not horney teens.” InuYasha agreed, but at times continued being naughty at times. At the end the whole school voted that InuYasha was the King and Kagome was his Queen. InuYasha and Kagome shared a passionate kiss in front of a cheering group of teens as they received their crowns.

After the kiss InuYasha softly whispered into Kagome’s ear. You are one sexy queen and hot as hell.” Kagome blushed and without InuYasha even knowing it she had already made plans in her mind to give him what he wanted later on that night. She just hoped it would be as good as he claimed.

“Say InuYasha, is there any chance we could leave a bit early. I think I have a fever, since I’m suddenly really hot.”

InuYasha smiled and gave her a naughty smirk. “Oh I think I can take care of that fever in no time!”

[kudosmyhero]

Web of Spider-Man (vol. 1) #8: Local Superhero!

Read Date: March 18, 2023 Cover Date: November 1985 ● Writer: David Michelinie ● Penciler: Geof Isherwood ● Inker: Vince Colletta ● Colorist: Bob Sharen ● Letterer: Janice Chiang ● Editor: Jim Owsley ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● oo, a string quarter! I’d be down for that ● oof, I wasn’t expecting a bigoted slur, but there it is ● fuck, not even just beating him up, but kidnapping him, too! ● whew, at least Irving will be ok… ● damn, another racial slur. our boy has his superpowers now, though. kick their asses! ● ok, so that’s our prologue from 30 years ago. curious to see where this goes… ● looks like Pete is going on assignment to check out the “Smithville Thunderbolt” over in Pennsylvania ● the only other time I’ve come across black-suit Spider-Man was his crossover with the Transformers, which would have been published right around this time period as well

● (I hope this doesn’t turn out to be a case of this guy starting emergencies so he can swoop in and save people. it’s a tiny town, so the opportunity to step up probably doesn’t come around all that often. he’s been doing this for over 30 years now…) ● whoa, who’s this giant dude?

● Spider-Man mistakes this big guy as the Thunderbolt, thinking he has a thing about competition ● Spidey didn’t get a good look at the big guy, so when he actually sees the Thunderbolt, he thinks he’s the one who attacked him ● PushyRedHead enters the chat ● don’t call him “Old-Timer,” Spidey! he’s middle-aged ● ah, his powers have been fading, so he’s using technology to continue being a hero ● ah-ha! I knew it. he has been creating small disasters so he can play hero ● oh this nosey bitch… ● ok, so the big dude is claiming to be the Smithville Thunderbolt… weird… ● 👏👏👏👏

Synopsis: In the vastness of space, a planet explodes, hurtling debris across the universe. One such chunk ends up crashing in a junkyard on planet Earth in the small town of Smithville, Pennsylvania. The following morning, Frank Hopkins reports for work at the Smithville Savings Bank. He arrives late for work much to the annoyance of his employer. After being snubbed by Marge, the bank typist, he meets with his co-worker Irving. Irving has two tickets to an orchestra performance that evening and Frank accepts an invitation to join. That evening, Frank waits outside for Irving, who is running late. Suddenly, he hears a scream in a back alley and sees a pair of thugs tar and feathering Irving. Around his neck is an antisemitic sign reading "Jew Boy". When Hopkins tries to stop them, he is beaten up and left in the alley. The two thugs then throw Irving in the back of a pick-up truck and attempt to flee. Frank grabs ahold of the tailgate and holds on for dear life. However, despite his heroic efforts, the speeding vehicle shakes him loose, sending Frank Hopkins rolling into the junkyard. Trying to get up, Frank uses the chunk of space rock to steady himself. Suddenly he feels funny and gets up with no further pain. Walking home, Hopkins dismisses this as nothing but adrenaline.

Returning home, Frank goes through old newspaper clippings of heroes like Captain America and the Human Torch, who were active in World War II. He wishes that there were heroes like that around in this day and age to prevent such acts of violence. The next morning, the front page story in the papers is about the beating of Irving Stein, who is now recovering in hospital. Reading this at work, Frank Hopkins once more wishes there was something that could have been done for poor Irving. At lunchtime, Frank goes out into the bank parking lot to eat his lunch. When he accidentally drops his apple under a car, he is surprised when he somehow manages to lift the car off the ground in order to retrieve it. Not believing what just happened, Hopkins attempts to lift the car again. He is surprised that he is able to lift it over his head. Putting it back down he wonders what he should do with this newfound power. When he walks around the front of the bank, he witnesses the two thugs who beat up Irving as they trip a young African-American boy. Suddenly, Frank Hopkins has some inspiration.

That evening, Frank returns home and gathers an old pair of long johns, some dye, and some markers and gets to work. Putting on this outfit and a mask, Frank Hopkins goes out looking for the guys who beat up his friend. He finds them roughing up a man who just walked out of a liquor store. Frank easily trounces these youths before the eyes of astonished bystanders, who proclaim him a hero.

Now:

Peter Parker is meeting with Joe Robertson at the offices of the Daily Bugle. He is upset that Joe is once again refusing to buy photos of Spider-Man. Joe tells him that if he used every photo of Spider-Man they have in his files, they could publish them for a year-and-a-half. Sympathetic of Peter's situation, Joe assigns him to a story that Joe is researching for the Sunday Suppliment. It is regarding the true identity of the Smithville Thunderbolt, a local hero in Pennsylvania. With no other choice, Peter grudgingly accepts the assignment and is soon on a bus to Smithville. The whole way, Peter complains to himself about how hard it is to make a living now that Joe Robertson is less interested in photos of Spider-Man. Soon, Peter arrives in Smithville and once off the bus a young man runs by warning everyone of a fire. Peter sees a nearby abandoned home billowing with smoke. With everyone off the bus, Peter slips inside to change into Spider-Man to save anyone who is trapped inside.

However, no sooner is Spider-Man on a rooftop opposite the other building, he witnesses the Smithville Thunderbolt running onto the scene. The wall-crawler decides to sit back and watch things from the back of the burning building. As Spider-Man climbs into the building, the Thunderbolt leaps out with two children out the front. The web-slinger looks around but can hardly see through the smoke. Suddenly, his spider-sense begins going off, warning him of danger. However, he is too late to stop a huge bruiser in overalls from striking him from behind. The strength of the blow causes Spider-Man to break through the floor to the main level of the house. Looking at who he attacked, the mysterious attacker realizes that this isn't the Smithville Thunderbolt and leaves. Spider-Man recovers from the blow and witnesses the Thunderbolt leap away. Wanting to learn more, Spider-Man tags the local hero with a spider-tracer. With the danger over, Spider-Man decides to change back into his civilian guise before he is spotted. Later, Peter Parker begins tracing the signal from the spider-tracer. It lures him to a dumpster, and Peter fears that the Thunderbolt discarded his tracer. Suddenly, someone from behind compliments him on his camera. It's a woman, and when he thanks her for the compliment and that he uses it for journalism, the woman gets upset. Turns out, the woman is Roxanne DeWinter a reporter for the Smithville Gazette, and she views Peter's presence as competition for her attempts at learning the Thunderbolts identity. However, she quickly changes her tone when she learns that Peter works for the Daily Bugle and insists on buying him lunch.

Soon the pair are sitting down at a diner where Roxanne explains that she is looking for a big scoop so she can finally get out of Smithville. She figures that learning the Thunderbolt's true identity is her ticket out of town. She suggests that the two of them work together, but Peter declines, saying that he works better alone. He thanks her for lunch and heads out. However, Roxanne DeWinter refuses to be blown off so easily. Moments later, Peter is back at the dumpster, but doesn't find any trace of his spider-tracer. Suddenly, he picks up a faint signal and leaps over the dumpster to track it, unaware that DeWinter is following after him. The signal leads Peter to a modest looking home. He then slips around to the side of the house and changes back into Spider-Man and tries to find a way inside so he can recover his spider-tracer. Not far away, Roxanne DeWinter has lost sight of Peter since going back for her car, but deduces that he is in the only inhabited house in the area. Inside the house, Spider-Man introduces himself to Frank Hopkins, who is shocked to see Spider-Man in his home. Saying he has come to recover his property and follows the signal to a closet. Before Frank can stop it, the wall-crawler opens it and is shocked to discover the costume belonging to the Smithville Thunderbolt.

Unaware that Roxanne DeWitter is listening outside his door, Frank Hopkins confesses that he is the Smithville Thunderbolt. He begs Spider-Man not to tell anyone because he believes he will be humiliated and ridiculed. He explains that he got his power a number of decades ago, but they are now starting to fade. He reveals that he has been using ordering scientific equipment to build devices that could roughly mimic is fading powers. Frank then reveals that with crime at an all time low in Smithville, he would manufacture dangers so he could still play hero. He reveals that he staged the "fire" in the house with smoke bombs and hide in the dumpster after his "daring" rescue. He once more begs Spider-Man not to reveal his secrets, fearing he will be laughed out of town. That's when Spider-Man hears a creaking floorboard from behind a door and ues his webbing to open the door. Before they can react, Roxanne snaps a photo of Frank in costume with his mask off. As Spider-Man tries to recover the camera from Roxanne, his spider-sense begins to go off. Suddenly, the strong man that attacked Spider-Man earlier comes bursting through the wall. He intends to kill Frank, insisting that he is the true Smithville Thunderbolt.

(https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Web_of_Spider-Man_Vol_1_8)

Fan Art: Black Spider-man by britolitos96

Accompanying Podcast: ● Untold Talks of Spider-Man - episode 10

[metalcursed]

well... he did it. eddie had army crawled his way out of high school diploma and all. actually, that last part was more of a chase as principal higgins was hot on his ass after he'd been flipped the bird by the metalhead. well wishes and tearful goodbyes were slim the day he rode out of hawkins, but eddie didn't mind it so much. he was free! behind the wheel of his packed up van, he was on the road, headed out west to california. after some late night talks with hellfire, eddie figured he'd be a fool to head to l.a. right off. there's no way he'd make it big there overnight. besides, he was pinched for cash.

picking a coastal town that was a little on the cheap side was his best bet, and after he drove past the santa carla welcome sign, he really wished he'd looked in the sideview. as it happened, the warning of it being the murder capital slipped past him. drumming on the steering wheel, he howled along to ozzy's bark at the moon. he ended up at the boardwalk where all the locals seemed to end up at by the end of the night. he figured if he could make some friends, he could couch surf until he got a paying gig and a place of his very own.

that was maybe a month ago... he found a place to crash alright, but now he was kind of, sort of a creature of the night. not exactly something he could put on a postcard and send back home. being a lost boy had its perks though if it weren't for the insatiable hunger. he watched leather-clad backs file out of the cave for the night. it was feeding time, and not for the first time, eddie felt his heart sink. it may not beat anymore, but it still felt the weight of guilt he sometimes carried around when he was human. his body was already rising to follow even though he was reluctant to chase down a teenager for dinner. his dark eyes caught the movement of star's flowing skirt. "how do you do it?" his voice was low so he didn't call back any of the boys. "i mean, i'm starving. i can't imagine not going out and..." his hands were held out in front of him, silently pleading, before he dropped them heavily at his sides. @witcheri

[algebrasupplements]

Jerry sighed, burying his head in the mountains of paperwork in front of him. Why, oh why, did his boss trust him with this? He’s just a goon! He didn’t even graduate middle school, how is he supposed to be an accountant?! He had signed up to use his 6’4”, 250 pound figure to intimidate people into forking over some cash, not to do math!

Another goon (coworker?) spun around in his spinny chair to face Jerry. “Hey man, I get it, but Boss has been crackin’ down on us henchmen lately. Red Hood’s been gettin’ dangerously close to stealin’ the whole ‘crime boss’ shtick, so Boss is rightfully pissed off.”

Jerry groaned, voice still muffled by the paperwork. “All I wanna do is go beat some people up, is that too much to ask? I literally work for a crime boss! The crime boss!”

The other goon shrugged. “I dunno what to tell you man, maybe you should just go home,” He swiveled back to his own desk, leaving Jerry alone with his thoughts. So obviously, he decided to go home.

No sane Gothamite would decide to walk alone at nighttime in Gotham. However, Jerry relished the thrill of being mugged. It was why he had decided to work for Matches Malone, after all. After fighting off a few wannabe muggers (amateurs, they didn’t even know how to mug properly!), Jerry came across a person who looked a lot like his boss.

Now, while Jerry had only met Matches once, the older man’s figure had seared itself into his memory. Matches had come into the warehouse where Jerry was “working” (beating people up) and offered him a “promotion” (working in corporate office hell). At the time, Jerry had been too scared to say no, but right now, he really wished that he had the balls to reject his boss.

So when he came across a heated encounter between the Red Hood and someone who shared the same build as his boss, it was the logical conclusion that they were obviously fighting over territory. Jerry ducked into a nearby alleyway because- hello, who’s going to make themselves the target of two crime lords?

“Crime Alley is my territory, old man! You don’t get to just prance in here and rule the place, acting all high and mighty, when you step foot in here once a year!”

“I have just as much right to be here as you do, Hood! You can’t just claim an entire area and expect everyone else to keep out of it!” Not-Matches spoke forcefully. As much as Jerry was scared for his life, a part of him was invested in the territory drama unfurling in front of him.

Hood spoke again, throwing his hands in the air in apparent frustration. “You don’t get it! You think you understand the Alley because you’re Matches fucking Malone, but all you see is bottom-of-the-barrel trash!”

Wow, rude much?

“The Alley has so much more than just criminals! There’s children who feel like they need to commit crimes just to feed their families! Kids are orphaned, and who the fuck is gonna hire them above the table when they’re ten years old, huh? Who the fuck is able to follow your shitty ass moral code when they’re a mother in an abusive relationship and they’ve got a kid to take care of? They do what they can to survive! I did what I could to survive!” Hood continued, panting as he finished his passionate tirade.

Of course, that was when Jerry had to trip over his own two feet outside of his temporary sanctuary, drawing the attention of the two men arguing.

Red Hood and Not-Matches-But-Is-Matches simultaneously turned to face the suddenly trembling goon, who stuttered out a meek apology. “I-I’m sorry Boss! And you too Mr. Hood sir! I didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation, I promise! Please don’t kill me!” He pleaded, closing his eyes and bracing for the inevitable bullet between the eyes.

When nothing happened, Jerry hesitantly cracked open one eye, then another. He finally snuck a look at the two men he was so afraid of, only to see… Batman? If Hood was talking to Batman, then where’s his boss? Unless…

“BATMAN IS MATCHES MALONE?!” Jerry all-but-screamed, drawing one amused glance and one death stare.

Red Hood snorted. “I ain’t bailing you outta this one, B. You’re on your own.”

“And I suppose you heard everything, Jerry?” Batman sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. After this revelation, there was only one thing Jerry could think about.

The utter hatred for his office job.

“Boss, you’re one annoying ass motherfucker, and I would totally try to fight you if I wasn’t sure that you’d beat my ass to a pulp.” Jerry snarled, hopefully telepathically transmitting his sheer anger towards Batman. If only he was someone like Martian Manhunter.

Batman’s face knitted itself into a confused expression. “I’m… not sure what you mean? I got you out of doing all the grunt work because I saw your potential,” The man spoke in his usual gravelly tone.

“Don’t act like you don’t know, Matches. You took me from the job I loved, the job I signed up for, and- and you placed me into corporate hell!” Jerry scoffed.

Red Hood burst out laughing and stepped forward, slinging his arm around Jerry’s shoulder.

“Wanna get outta here, man? Come work for me instead, I’ll get ya doing the stuff you love. Big man like you’s gotta be great for fighting, right?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Jerry replied without an ounce of hesitation. The two of them walked away, completely ignoring Batman as they chattered to each other. The vigilante was left to dwell on this encounter by himself.

“What… the fuck just happened?”

has anyone ever done one where a goon finds out "holy shit, matches malone is batman" ?