#I want to beat them with hammers /affectionate

[palskippah]

Hi! There are role swap AUs of them already and I love them so much, so I tried making my own too! You should know that this is entirely self-indulgent like anything else I draw askdaslds

There is Mareach and Bowuigi bc yes alskdklasd and a tiny bit of one-sided Luaisy that leads to nothing because Luigi's a married man 😔

I had other drawings of them, but they're not colored yet and I wanted to share the idea already sjsjs

Here's some ideas for this AU!

-Mario's the Mushroom Kingdom Princess and his parents are the King and Queen. Luigi used to be the other princess, green princess or green princess Mario (as in, his bro Mario, not his last name Mario 😔), but he married Bowser and became the Queen of the Darklands :y Everyone in there respects and remembers his name, he's built a really good reputation for himself by simply being himself, in this house we believe in the 'Luigi is the Darklands' hero' hc too. Their aunt and uncles (and cousin) rule Sarasaland.

-(King boo's a Darklands ally but still hates Queen Luigi from that one time he wiped clean his mansion when the king kidnapped Mario. Luigi's scared of ghosts still too, but Junior always reassures him he's gonna beat them up if they try scaring his mama (I drew it actually, I'm gonna color it too!))

-When the bros were 20 Bowser at first tried kidnapping Princess Mario, and Mario was ready to beat his ass but they ended up talking about ally-making and ruling a kingdom as Bowser just got crowned king. Mario advised him to listen to his advisor and other stuff and by the time Luigi caught the koopa ship, ready to bonk Bowser in the head with his comically large hammer, the princess and king made plans of starting a treaty.

>Anyways, they met often after that when Bowser went to plan the treat with the Mario King and Queen. Luigi fell for Bowser and Bowser fell harder and Mario regretted talking to Bowser and should have instead just beat him up. He's happy for his bro though. When they married and had Junior and adopted the koopalings he decided that he was very happy that he talked to Bowser. He loves how happy Luigi is.

-Princess Mario accomplishes many things and excels at almost anything he tries, and all the toads treat him as a hero as well as a princess and all, so his dad doesn't think he's a failure, but still bothers him by urging him to get married ever since he turned thirty. He often compares him to Luigi, who got married at 23 and in the present had eight kids with his husband. Mario doesn't give a shit about marrying soon, but wished his dad would stop being annoying. His mamma is a sweetheart as always and often tells her husband to leave him alone. King Mario is stubborn as hell though (his two boys got that from him), so he doesn't.

-Peach and Daisy are cousins and they were trying to start a business together, though they weren't still sure about what (you know as Princess Peach and Daisy have many businesses together in canon aksdla), but before they could settle anything they somehow fell in the pipe and Peach landed in the Mushroom Kingdom and Daisy in the Darklands.

-Bowser still steals the Super Star, but in hopes of giving Luigi the coolest anniversary gift ever, as it's their seventh and all that. He very often gives him all sort of things, like great statues, many many dresses and all the stuff that he knows Luigi loves. Being the himbo he is, he's genuinely concerned that Luigi wouldn't like something unless it is completely new and has never been gifted to him at all. Of course, Luigi would love anything he'd give him, because Bowser's gifts are always made with love. By the end of the things, Luigi tells Bowser so and calls him an idiot affectionally, and also makes him return the Super Star. (movie-like, you know, since this is somehow a retelling alksdlasd)

-Based on what I read at discord, if you're who wrote it, pls know that i love your ideas jsjs- Bowser has set up many statues of Luigi that are of a nice stone color and has gems in its eyes to glow under the lava and the sun when it's out. Imagine that one Luigi render where he's got an arm raised and the other nicely by his side and he's smiling, that's the main statue of Queen Luigi sjjds. They contrast greatly against Bowser's, that were made to make his fierceness stand out, unlike Luigi's that highlight his kindness.

-In the piano scene, Bowser is playing and singing and Luigi's laying on his stomach over the piano's surface (no idea if that's possible but humor me alkdalsd) and listens with the most besotted expression ever, resting his face on his palms. When Kamek interrupts them Luigi's not mad or anything, but Bowser really glares at the magikoopa.

-Junior finds Daisy and brings her to the castle, in hopes that his mama and papa will help her, because they're the greatest people in the whole world and they can do anything.

-Daisy and Luigi quickly become friends, making Bowser jealous of the other human, especially because Daisy from time to time looks at Luigi as if she like-liked him. Not that he thought Luigi had eyes for anyone else beside him, but it was still annoying. And Diasy, for all she annoyed him, seemed to fully respect that Luigi was happily married.

-Daisy teases Bowser mercilessly too, at first clueless that she's supposed to be terrified and respect this guy like everyone else does (maybe Junior takes her to him first, and completely forgetting Junior's initial rambling about his family, she doesn't realize Bowser's the king, but when she meets Luigi, she sees his crown and fancy clothes and immediately knows she gotta be respectful to this guy. She doesn't know how royals are in this lava world, after all), but she keeps doing it, knowing the koopa king may look terrifying but he's mostly bark and no bite.

-DK and Mario are friends and they often meet up to beat the shit out of the other, or sparring as it's called, I think. The first time they did it, Mario got the cat power up and destroyed DK in front of the kong king and other kongs, and since then Cranky doesn't dislike Mario so much, and the others respect him greatly too.

-Mareach,,, they look at eachother and sparkles are in there too. Peach doesn't brutally throw Mario to the ground or anything, but he loses his breath anyways because of her beauty. Also, Mario's type is beautiful tall women (and tall idiot men, maybe his dad suggests DK as a husband and Mario's like ew dad, we're just friends. Or maybe... Donkareach... I like the fics that has them, but idk for this).

-Toad as a wingman, he doesn't care how obvious he is, he's gonna make Princess Mario and his new friend Peach be together, because they clearly like-like the other.

That's all I got for now askdalsd thanks if you read my ramblings, sorry if there's mistakes in writing.

I'm gonna color the stuff I got left and maybe draw more, but knowing myself I dunno if I will anytime soon 😔 Also I go back to college the next week sadly sjsjd

Got any thoughts on the AU? Tell cuz I'd love to know c:< but only if it's nice thoughts, I'm sensitive akdalsd

[anathemaspeaks]

dandelion wishes

character(s): shoto todoroki synopsis: always the bridesmaid, never the bride - isn't that how the saying goes? my name is momo yaoyorozu, and in my case, it's true. word count: 1.3k warning(s): none a/n: not my best work, but here you go anon :) likes, follows, and reblogs are appreciated <3 this is all from momo's point of view.

it happened at my birthday party, a day after i turned 16.

kaminari managed to somehow smuggle booze into the house. still teenagers and drunk off the excitement more than the liquor, someone suggested we play 7 minutes in heaven. everyone cheered in agreement - except bakugou, of course. he opted to stay sober and make sure we don't have too much fun.

after a few uneventful rounds, it was finally my turn to spin the bottle. i wished it would land on shoto. this was my chance to tell him how i feel about him. maybe he'd say something back? well, a girl can dream...right?

my heart hammered in my chest as i gripped the bottle, spinning it on the polished wooden floor. every spin felt like an eternity until it finally landed with a decisive click. i traced the path of the neck, breath catching in my throat as i saw it pointed directly at todoroki. this was it. this was my chance.

we awkwardly shuffled towards the closet, the door creaking shut behind us, the dim light casting shadows on the wall. before i could calm my nerves and speak, todoroki blurted

"listen, about the spin…" his voice was uncharacteristically soft, almost hesitant.

"yeah?" i forced a nonchalant reply, inhaling to try and calm my nerves. he ran a hand through his dual-colored hair, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"actually, there's someone i... well, someone i kind of like." a sheepish grin tugged at the corner of his lips. it felt like the wind got knocked out of my lungs. my eyes darted around the cramped space, landing on a crumpled magazine lying forgotten on the floor. this was happening. finally.

"oh, cool," i choked out, my voice barely above a whisper, "who is it?" i asked nervously, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

a beat of silence.

"y/n" he mumbled, a shy smile on his lips. the name rang in my ears, shattering my dreams of a chance with shoto. i forced a smile, "oh."

maybe this was for the best.

maybe y/n would make him happy in a way i couldn't, maybe she was what he had wanted all along.

maybe y/n wouldn't have walked out of this closet with a broken heart hidden behind a painted grin.

of course it was her. it made perfect sense. her smile could light up a whole room, kindness radiating from her like sunshine. she was effortlessly beautiful. she was everything i couldn't be. everything i wanted to be. pretty, smart, funny, strong and kind.

how could i ever compete with that? a pang of jealousy, sharp and unwanted, twisted in my gut. i should be happy for them.

and yet the feeling wouldn't leave.

my gaze flickered up to shoto's shy smile, and the way his eyes seemed to light up just at the mere mention of her. a hollow ache settled in my chest, envy so deep it felt like a barbed wire wrapped around my heart.

shoto's turn.

i held my breath, the unsettling feeling in my gut worsening each second. when the bottle stopped spinning, it landed on y/n.

of course it did.

as if tonight could've gotten any worse.

they emerged from the closet looking like a tornado had hit them. clothes askew, hair a mess, and faces flushed with a kind of unspoken ecstasy that left little to guess.

the next day, they walked into class hand-in-hand. it was official.

today marks 2 years since that day.

over this period, they became the textbook definition of the perfect couple. they were disgustingly cute. sneaky, affectionate, glances in the middle of lectures, whispered jokes that erupted in shared laughter, their hands seemingly glued together.

shoto 'resting bitch face' todoroki, weak, a complete loverboy for y/n. he'd wrap his arm casually around her waist, brush stray hairs from her face with a lingering touch, and steal kisses during training breaks. it was a side of him no one had ever seen - a shoto who wore his heart on his sleeve. for her.

here i was, stuck watching their picture-perfect love story unfold, a constant reminder of the confession that will forever remain trapped on my tongue.

we were sprawled across mina's living room floor, empty pizza boxes scattered around like confetti, and a half-eaten bag of chips resting precariously on a mountain of rom-com CDs. the topic, just like a normal beginning to a girls' night, was boys.

"boys are the worst!" mina declared, prompting a chorus of agreement from everyone.

"mine just left his gym socks under the bed again. seriously, how hard is it to use a laundry basket?" uraraka chimed in.

just then, y/n came in from the kitchen with a bag of marshmallows and sat down next to us. well, she wouldn't be participating in the complaining.

"look who finally decided to grace us with her presence," i teased, nudging her playfully.

"so, how are things going with the ice king, anyways?" asked jirou.

she blushed a bit. "oh, the usual. he's amazing, and he's surprisingly..." she trailed off, a sly smile on her face.

"surprisingly...?" mina prompted.

"let's just say his quirk isn't the only thing that's hot and cold."

the room erupted in laughter and whoops for her. i forced a laugh, feeling an all too familiar pang in my stomach.

the conversation continued, everyone chiming in with their recent stories about boys. including y/n. every detail felt like a knife to my heart. 'that should've been me' i thought. i pushed it away. i wouldn't let my jealousy get the best of me.

they all seemed so happy, while i was stuck on the sidelines, yearning to feel their joy. we all fell asleep in that room while watching movies and gossiping, a smile on everyone's tired faces. i still couldn't help but feel a little bitter. but i couldn't let it get the best of me.

now we all have finally graduated. we decided to still meet up every saturday for dinner, and this week, it was at todoroki's. the familiar buzz of anticipation and excitement filled the house as we all talked about our first week after graduating.

then, shoto and y/n walked in hand-in-hand.

"hi everyone!" greeted y/n, smile so bright it was contagious.

"sit wherever you're comfortable, dinner will be ready soon" announced shoto.

"but before that, there's something we have to tell you." she was practically shaking in eagerness.

todoroki cleared his throat, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "we, uh, well…" he fumbled for words, a rare sight for the usually composed half-and-half hero. she squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"we're engaged!" she blurted out, a wide grin on her face.

the air crackled with shock. wide eyes, dropped jaws, and a silence followed the announcement.

"wait, married?!" kaminari finally found his voice, his eyes wide with surprise. "but you guys are only eighteen!"

todoroki chuckled, a sound rarely heard before y/n. "we know," he admitted, a hint of shyness lingering in his voice. "but we knew what we wanted, and well, here we are," he added, a hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

and then, as if a dam had broken, the group erupted. mina squealed, launching herself at y/n in a bone-crushing hug. kirishima gave todoroki a hearty back slap, nearly knocking him over. uraraka, tears welling in her eyes, showered them both with congratulations.

"dumb brats, you're gonna regret this!" yelled bakugou. but i saw him turn away and wipe away a falling tear. both y/n and shoto engulfed him in a hug. he threatened to burn their arms off if they did it again, but the smile on his face was hard to ignore.

congratulations continued, hugs going all around. the surprise announcement had cast a whole new light on their evening. it was a celebration not just of friendship and graduation, but of a love story that had blossomed within the very walls of U.A., a love story we all saw unfold.

married. at eighteen. the words echoed in the hollow space where my confession had died. cheers rained down on them, a cruel confetti shower on my silent tears. my wish for him was as futile as willing a dandelion's wispy white petals not to fly away with the wind.

they were a love story written in stolen glances and secret touches, a masterpiece i could only watch unfold from the sidelines - a happy ever after that couldn't be mine.

to the anon who requested this, i know you wanted it to be more angsty so i tried to make it as vengeful as i could, i hope you like it! <3 (i accidentally deleted the ask I'M SO SORRY)

please send in requests everyone 🫶

[rhaegonthinker]

“do you see him when you look at me, sister? do you see our father?” aegon licks his chapped lips, looking into her bright violet eyes, wanting to see into her mind, know every waking that crosses her mind—of him. “tell me, rhaenyra, is that what you see? all you see?” aegon says a bit more desperately, gritting his teeth in pain, his flesh still burning, skin scorched. he wants to kill aemond for ruining him, taking what will to live he had left. he wants to take revenge on him like he wanted to on his sister for murdering his son, until he found out the truth. that she had no part in it. a son for a son is what she wanted, but when she found him—her half-brother—half burned, half broken like their father, she took pity on him, sparing his life, putting a price on aemond’s instead—the other brother who they both want revenge on now. something else in common they share besides their dragon blood.

rhaenyra looks at him with more softness in her eyes than she ever has and aegon wishes she would say something.

“tell me, nyra,” he rasps, tears falling down his face, stinging his burns. tell me you see me, your brother, your blood, your equal. tell me you see someone besides a replica of our father, half dead, half decayed. he clenches his hands into fists, his whole body going rigid and aegon wants milk of the poppy, needs it to dull the pain, the suffering of her silence.

because aegon wants her. his heart. his soul. his spirit. even his body, his belly rippling with a river of feverish desire. desire he hasn’t felt in many moons. not since it was torn away from him, like sunfyre.

but rhaenyra has awakened the dormant dragon within him. and it roars to life, demanding attention, her touch, her affection, her love. he’s about to beg her, say please, when her clear voice breaks through his all consuming thoughts.

”yes,” she answers honestly, truly, and aegon’s heart skips a beat, because at least it’s the truth, but she isn’t finished, giving him a smile. “but i see the good parts of him in you,” she runs her fingers over the side of his scarred cheek, caressing it lightly, wiping away his tears, careful of her sharp nails. aegon gulps, imagining her running them down his naked chest, where the flesh isn’t ruined, where she could inflict pleasured pain born of passion. “you have a good heart, little brother. i see it now.” rhaenyra places her right hand against his hammering heart, gentle as a mother’s kiss upon her babe’s brow. “some parts that are our father, your mother…even me.” rhaenyra leans in close, breathing deep and placing her left hand on the other side of his chest, leveraging her weight against him now. and it makes his breath hitch, wishing her warmth, her body would burden his always, for he’d always carry her with him—always will from now on.

“but, sweet brother,” the affectionate words roll off of rhaenyra’s tongue like an aphrodisiac and aegon’s already drunk off them, his lips barely brushing hers and he whines low in the back of his throat, wanting to taste the saccharine sweetness. “i see all of you, only you, my aegon—wholly.”

wholly. the word rings inside aegon like glorious bells awakening, tolling victoriously. because his sister, his queen, sees him for who he is, has always been, not a ghost haunting them both. not just parts and pieces of a whole.

aegon kisses her hungrily, tasting no bitterness or poison, but pure honey; initiating and igniting the war their mouths wage on one another’s, their tongues battling for dominance. a dance of dragons that both of them deem to win, until rhaenyra’s the first to bite his bottom lip, draw his blood, tasting his coppery crimson for herself.

“sister,” aegon hisses, his hands grabbing onto her for dear life, groaning when she sucks his lip desperately, for it’s not painful, but blissful to bleed for his sister. for every piece of himself attaches to her, every part, aches for her eternally.

[luminoustarlight]

Leo Campo is a romantic. He’s a ladies man until he finds the one, but you better believe he treats every woman he’s ever hooked up with like they’re his world. He’s just an affectionate guy. Call it a symptom of being Italian. Pet-names roll off of his tongue smoothly, always punctuated with a little smirk.

“Can I get you anything else, sweetheart?” He’ll ask the unsuspecting girl at the bar.

The most frequent reply is “just your number,” which has definitely gotten old. He doesn’t actually give it out; he just takes them upstairs and gives them something better.

He’s a tender lover, always attentive to the needs of the woman he’s pleasuring. And the women are always satisfied.

Between the adoring nicknames and innate ability to make a woman cum three times before he cums himself, many girls begin hoping for something more than a one night stand. All of it offers them a false sense of the possibility of a relationship. Because how can a man be so sweet and not want something more?

Because Leo Campo is certain he’ll know the love of his life when he sees her. Maybe she walks into the bar, maybe he meets her while he’s coaching soccer.

Or, in your case, at your apartment where he’s delivering pizza.

If only you’d known how handsome the pizza delivery guy was going to be, you would’ve bothered to clean the smeared mascara from your eyes. You wouldn’t have answered the door with an oversized t shirt hanging off one of your shoulders, no bra to hold up your goods, and an old pair of sweatpants you’ve had since college.

“Oh my God,” slips out of your mouth. Your first instinct is to slam the door. Your tongue feels dry and your broken heart hasn’t forgotten how to hammer in your chest. Breakups happen every day. It’s okay that you look like a hot mess, minus the hot part.

You’ve ordered pizza from Vince’s dozens of times and that Jogi kid always delivers your pizza.

Who is this tall, dark-haired man with a smile that makes you think maybe you won’t feel miserable forever?

“How ya doin’?” He asks you, clearly not taking in any context clues as to how your night is going.

“Uh,” you begin unsurely. Are you really about to have a conversation with this guy in a pair of sweatpants with a guacamole stain on the right thigh? “I’ve been better. Hence the absolute atrocity standing before you.”

“Where?” He smiles without missing a beat. Because somewhere beneath your disheveled appearance, he sees a girl he desperately wants to get to know. Who broke your heart? And how does he mend it?

“I don’t suspect you have anyone to share this pizza with?”

“Not as of 8:16 this morning.” Yes, you know the exact minute you found your piece of shit ex-boyfriend cheating on you with his co-worker.

“Well, as of,” Leo checks his watch, “7:24 this evening, now you do.”

“You’re quite bold, aren’t you?”

“I suppose.”

“Aren’t you working?”

He shrugs. “It’s the end of my shift. Are you going to let me in?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Is this the beginning of a Dateline episode?”

This makes Leo chuckle. Of course you’re tentative. You’re an attractive, single woman who has no right trusting any man at all, let alone a random pizza delivery guy.

But there’s something about his smile that quells your anxiety. No ulterior motives, just genuine kindness.

“I can call my Ma, if you want,” Leo suggests half seriously. “You can talk to her and learn everything about me.”

Your bottom lip snags beneath your teeth as you open your door to let the handsome stranger in. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Leo.” He sets down your pizza on the coffee table. “Leo Campo.”

requests are open for leo and several other hayden characters!

anakin masterlist

[shentheauthor]

That's ok! But I got a new request! Those headcanons for the Harbingers' S/O clobbering people got me thinking... Can I request headcanons about the Harbingers having a sweet and precious S/O who is also incredibly strong? They just regularly bench press Fatui Skirmishers, like the Electro ones with the hammers, will fist fight hilichurls and win, and carry loads that look like they could crush them with ease. Even more confusing if they have an average or slender build.

Heyo sorry this took so long! But I am here now to write <3

Harbingers with an s/o who’s small, but very strong

~~~~~~~

Pierro:

This man has lived for centuries

He thought he’d seen it all

But when you picked up a skirmisher with one hand and threw him across the room while helping the new recruits train

Pierro almost had a heart attack

He thought he imagined it at first, but the groaning skirmisher you’re helping to stand is more than enough evidence to the contrary

He’ll run over immediately and start questioning how in the hell you did that

Were you born with this strength???? Or did you do some kind of insane magic????

Watches you like a hawk now, but affectionately

Lowkey wants to be carried, but he refuses to ask

If you pick him up without permission tho, he will get SO flustered

Lift that old man, he’s touch starved and he needs it

Capitano:

The fatui soldiers see the two of you as a sort of “good cop” and “bad cop”

Soft, sweet angel, and an absolutely intimidating powerhouse

Imagine everyone’s surprise when you lift capitano effortlessly

Capitano is the most surprised out of everyone

He was just coming back home from being away for a while, and you greeted him at the city’s entrance

And there you go, spinning him around and crushing his ribs despite your average size

The man was too stunned to speak

His first thought is “have you been training??” But he’s smart enough to know that this is probably just

A You Thing™️

He’ll let you train with him now

And help the Fatui grunts train as well

You’ll beat everyone’s asses (politely) and capitano will just go “now this is why we don’t underestimate our opponents”

Now you two are both powerhouses, and everyone is afraid of you LMFAO

The two strongest people in Teyvat dating each other… what are the odds /hj

Dottore:

He’ll probably find out during an experiment gone wrong

A ruin machine goes out of control, and the segments are all working to take it down

AND ITS THE S/O WITH THE STEEL CHAIR (except the steel chair is your fucking fists)

Lifting literal Tons of metal effortlessly and tearing it apart without breaking a sweat

The segments: 👁️👁️

Godspeed, friend, bc they will NOT leave you alone now

When you date one Dottore, you date ALL of them

And all of them want to run tests on you

Or get carried by you

Or both at the same time

Seriously they wanna experiment on you SOOOOO bad

He is an absolute simp for you tho, so he will shut up if you promise to carry him around and help him with other experiments instead

Carry multiple segments at once, they will miraculously not fight with each other bc they’re in your arms <3

The Fatui soldiers thought you were the safe one, the sane one

But now they’re terrified of you too AJGKBKDKVKDK

Columbina:

Omfg dude she is SO happy

She’d probably find out after you pick her up

It’s not exactly hard to do, but she’ll notice that you didn’t even make an ounce of effort

So she’ll ask you to lift more things

Getting increasingly heavy

And she is absolutely delighted

Literally living her best life

You are now her personal vehicle

Carry her everywhere and she is happy

Loves watching you lift impossibly heavy objects easily

She thinks it’s so hot and amazing and impressive

She is so in love <3

Two people who look soft and sweet, but are secretly terrifyingly strong <3

Arlecchino:

She’d probably find out if someone tries to hurt you

Like on a mission or smth

Ruin golems come after you, as they tend to do, unfortunately

Arle wants to protect her soft, sweet s/o

But boom, there you go, LIFTING THAT THING

Bc you don’t want her to get hurt, of course!

She would have a solid 10 minutes of sheer confusion

“Who are you, and what have you done with my s/o”

It’s very clearly still you tho, as you’re checking her over for injuries

Once she’s processed and accepted what happened, she’s even more in love

You’re so strong, and that’s AWESOME

Asks you to help “deal with” insubordination

She doesn’t approve of how gentle you are with disobedient soldiers

But at least watching you lift them up and place them gently in their barracks as punishment is hella fun

I wanna know more about her HoYo…

Pulcinella:

He would not realize for a while

You like carrying him, but he isn’t exactly hard to carry for a normal person

No, he would realize when you’re both on a business trip

Loading luggage onto your carriage, there’s a ton of suitcases

“I’ve got this, love,” you say, reaching for all the very large, very heavy stacks of suitcases

“No, you don’t have to— what the fuck”

Very shocked, very flustered, bc wait, you can do this to ANYONE you want? Not just a little tiny gnome?

Oddly quiet and shy around you for the trip 🤨🤨🤨

This old man is so in love

Definitely watches you if you ever train in any way

Hell you probably have a few friends in the Fatui

He’ll watch you “hang out” with your friends (aka bench press them)

And he will just be :)

Quietly flustered mans

Scaramouche:

He can feel your strength when you hug him and pick him up

He isn’t exactly hard to pick up, being made of mostly light materials

But your lack of effort is suspicious

He has theories, and he will test them by taking you on missions and having you fight enemies

“Will you please lend me a hand”

You’re super sweet, so of course you’ll help

And oh there you go, literally punching through a ruin guard in one shot

Being an absolute ray of sunshine the whole way through

“Are you ok, kuni? :D”

He won’t comment on your strength, but man he’s proud to have such a strong partner

He knows the appeal of allowing your opponents to underestimate you, even tho that’s not what you’re doing

So he won’t tell anyone about it and delight in the shock that everyone else experiences when you reveal it yourself

And if he lets you carry him more often after? Well that’s none of your business…

Sandrone:

She wants one of her larger dolls moved

And before she can get her big robot butler guy to do it, you’re taking care of it

Boom, big robot butler guy has been replaced /hj

Like, Sandrone won’t even use machines to move her dolls anymore

She just has you do it, since you’re happy to help

She’s so excited for the extra help 😭😭 for once

Be honored she lets you touch them

BUT! Also…

She wants you to carry her sooo bad

She will never tell you directly, but she makes it so obvious you always know when she wants it

Sandrone visibly relaxes in your arms

She feels safe and warm and happy

Very glad she didn’t turn you into a puppet lmao

Signora:

She’s so shook omfg

You lifting her is kind of insane, bc she is TALL AS HELL

But you did lift her, and there she is, held in your arms and slowly beginning to blush

“…dear, please put me down”

“Nope <3 your feet look tired, you deserve a break <3”

“…fair enough”

She won’t let you carry her in public, but in private? She will wrap her whole body around you and let you hold her

She thinks it’s funny to watch you just LIFT gunners and skirmishers, bc they’re always so shocked

She will compliment your strength in private all the time

What I wouldn’t give to have her wrapped around me, dancing in her bedroom with nobody else around AUGUHHHHH

Pantalone:

You two get caught in the rain together while in Liyue on banking business

Neither of you have umbrellas, and Pantalone is wearing his nice shoes

You, being a sweetheart, don’t want his shoes to get dirty, so you pick him up and book it to the bank

This man is so confused, flustered, and delighted at the same time

“Darling, you never told me you could lift me like that”

When he finds out you can lift more? Oh my god dude he is so whipped

He wants you to hold him all the time

He just adores watching you carry things around

Especially because everyone stares and looks so freaked out Lmao

This man is literally just… heart eyes, motherfucker personified

Literally so so down bad for you, it’s not even funny

Carry his mora for him, he’ll propose on the spot /hj

Tartaglia:

OH MAN

He wouldn’t bring a non-combatant onto the battlefield

But he would see you training with the soldiers and immediately do a 180 on that

“PLEASE SPAR WITH ME!!!”

You will, bc you know how much he loves it

And you won’t beat his ass, bc he’s very skilled, but man the hits you land hit HARD

He will now show you off to everyone

“Guys this is my beautiful, kind, strong s/o, look at them :D”

Down bad mf

Loves being carried soooo much dude, he’s so touch starved and he wants affection so bad

Hell dude he’ll let you carry him in public

Unless it’s around his soldiers

He has to set a good example after all

But every other time, you will not be allowed to put him down

Utterly smitten mf

[paperyowl]

So... Mafia AU, anyone?

Bucktommy, T-rated.

+++

Mafia AU

"You shouldn't be here. "

Buck startled. Badly. He whirled around. Tommy's breath hitched. His pulse hammered against his ribs. A reaction to something so simple as a single glance, those most precious baby blues.

Evan's lips twitched, and Tommy had kissed that particular expression on his face often enough to know that he was fighting down a smile. Good. There was nothing to smile about here, not while Evan had come to the docks in the middle of the night, specifically doing the thing that Tommy had not wanted him to.

"Tommy. "

He didn't quite draw in a breath, but Tommy closed his eyes for a beat too long to claim it was accidental. He needed to steel himself; he couldn't let his emotions get the better of him. Evan wasn't safe with him - and Tommy couldn't let him get hurt.

Not with the way that Evan said his name, folding other words between the syllables, all of them fond and affectionate and full of love. The feeling was very mutual, but that didn't matter one bit. Tommy had a debt to his clan, his family (full of people whose hands were drenched in blood). He couldn't leave that behind. Worse was, he didn't entirely want to. He owed Sal his life, and for as long as he was the big boss's right hand, Tommy would be by his side. To the bitter end, to death.

He didn't want that for Evan. But it seemed none of his words from the week before had stuck - this wasn't even the first time that Evan had tried to contact him. Tommy would have never thought him to be this reckless.

"I've been looking for you-"

"You need to forget me," Tommy muttered, trying to keep a blank face. "I told you. I'm not your last."

"Well, I disagree. You're the only one I want." Buck said, full of determination. There was such fight in him - a heart so strong-willed and empathetic that Tommy had fallen before he'd even realized it. He thought he'd been able to keep his distance, but he'd never been more wrong in his life.

Something inside of him snapped at the injustice of this, at the awful timing of finding Evan now, and Tommy was in his space, backing him into the table in the corner before he could think. It was nothing to lift Evan up onto it, but it was everything to bully Evan's legs apart and lean in. The kiss was searing.

Fuck, he'd missed this. Tommy had told himself so firmly that he didn't need Evan like oxygen, but kissing him felt like breathing in properly for the first time in too long. They were so good together, and for a moment, Tommy let himself dream that they could be more.

Tommy felt Evan's hands slide around his back. Then, sudden tension all over his body. He froze. But whatever he wanted to do, he was too slow to react - a shot rang out. The sound of a body collapsing.

He worked on autopilot. Taking the gun from Evan, turning enough to see the neck tattoo of a rival clan on the body - and all that blood. The silence lasted for barely another beat; then, the space was taken over by the commotion of family members streaming into the room.

Tommy's only thought was to pull Buck closer, to keep him hidden. His mind caught up slowly: Buck had pulled the gun from its place at Tommy's back. He'd killed someone. For Tommy.

One of them shivered. Tommy couldn't tell whether it was Evan, but he also couldn't check beyond wrapping his arm around him, trying desperately to soothe and block Evan from whatever the consequences of this were.

Minutes might have passed, but the next thing Tommy was aware of was Sal stopping a few paces away. Out in the open, Sal always wore cool indifference like an amour. Tommy couldn't read him.

Almost reflexively, Tommy used his grip on the back of Evan's neck to tug his face against his shoulder. His first instinct was to protect him. Even from Sal.

Even when Sal wasn't cruel and always had a soft spot for Tommy, he was ruthless in protecting his people. He had to be. Evan might look scared. Devastated, hollow - weak. Sal wouldn't accept it. Couldn't accept it.

"I want you to report to me in the morning, Tommy," Sal stated simply, finally breaking the silence. Tommy was startled to realize that he was smiling. "And it's high time you introduced him to me. "

An introduction. An initiation, making Buck part of- no. Tommy couldn't let him. But there was no room for protests. Sal gave a sharp whistle, and the other men followed him out of the room. Not without a few curious glances being thrown their way.

Tommy didn't care. He only cared about-

"Evan, are you-"

Tommy's breath caught. Evan's eyes were watery, but not scared. He still looked so very determined. Beautiful.

"He would have shot you," Evan whispered, voice heavy. "In the back. Like a coward."

It sounded like Evan was trying to convince himself that he'd done the right thing. Tommy didn't want this life for him. But he wouldn't let Evan doubt for a second.

"Yeah, baby. You saved me."

Evan's smile was brief, but there - it wavered.

"G-gonna keep me now?"

Tommy closed his eyes and drew Evan into his arms.

"Forever sweetheart."

[kisakis-boyfriend]

I lowkey feel like a weirdo just reading and interacting with your posts without actually sending anything in the ask box LMAO

So here I am, to rant about pretty (not so) little twinks to my favorite writer

Everyone headcannons Hanma to be sadistic, and while I can definitely see that based on the way he acts and fights, I personally headcannon him to be a hardcore masochist who just tries to hide it by saying he's a sadist. Like this man doesn't dodge powerful punches and kicks from Mikey or Draken, no, no, he blocks them with his own body instead. His whole thing is always getting back up after tanking heavy hits like a monster. But he also very regularly eggs people on. He taunts and maims people to get them to fight him. He does this, every. Single. Fight.

So how does this translate into the bedroom? Well of course, his lanky ass wants nothing more than to get on your nerves. He wants to see how far he can push you, if he can make you genuinely mad. He wants to be the biggest little shit he possibly can until you have no choice but to punish him for it. And this boy can take a lot. Spanking? No problem. Choking? Yes please. Cbt? Why the hell not? Putting him into a borderline painful full nelson while relentless pounding into his prostate at mach jesus? He'd love every second, even if it renders him damn near bedridden for the next three days. Hell, we've seen how Hanma fights, you could probably beat the shit out of him or try to kill him and he'd pop a stiffy.

I feel like he might have a humiliation kink too. Like- shame this man for being so kinky and mock him for being pathetic. You could call him your little bitch and spit in his mouth and he'd just grin in response. And he's not really the type to break easily either. Even as you have him clutching the sheets, trembling, tears rolling down his cheeks, barely even able to stay conscious, he'd still talk shit and try to aggravate you. That carries into every day couple life too, just in a more minor way. He likes to play pranks on you, poke and prod you both literally and metaphorically. He's also almost definitely smart, I mean- Kisaki hates dumb people, and he hangs out with Hanma. That just means that Hanma will start the dumbest, prettiest arguments, and win purely by technicality. He's a total smartass. Of course, Hanma wouldn't say or do anything to actually hurt you, he's just be annoying and a nusience on purpose because he finds it entertaining to piss people off. It's alright, there's an easy fix. Just fuck hin so dumb he can't talk, so hard that he just passed out in your arms straight after.

Moral of the story, Hanma is a freaky little masochist, and the world's most annoying little asshole (affectionate)

~Neon

(Ajdksj no need to worry! I accept lurkers of all sorts — including lurkers who don't interact at all, and instead silently read my works <3

I do appreciate things like this too though, thank you! I love hearing y'all's thoughts and ideas!)

—

THIS is canon, as far as I'm concerned. He's such a painslut, it's not even funny. I definitely agree that Shuji will do his best to annoy you, that's just his favorite past time :P

I recently learned that getting punched in the gut (or just, in general) is a kink/fetish, so I think we can safely assume that Shuji would be into that too. I know that wrestling is also a sexual thing for some people. Just tossing that out there. Pin that tall boy in a painful position and hammer your cock into him, he'll love it!

Forget play fighting, he's the kind of guy who'd want to actually fight you until he's spitting up blood. Rasping a snarky remark even as his knuckles are busted, and his ribs ache from your heavy hits. Just normal couple things~

I also just thought about a "softer" moment: Cuddling with Shuji and pressing on the bruises you left on him. He winces as your thumb presses down on the large purple area on his arm, your other hand combing through his hair. This kind of pain is the kind that makes his whole body tremble, and he easily becomes addicted to it <3

[whyareyouhere66]

Omg cool I have an angsty request 😈(if you’re comfortable writing it<3)

Kind of Tom!Peter Parker x Male!Stark!reader x Tony Stark(platonic obviously) ??

Reader has a rocky relationship with his dad Tony, just wants his attention, to be seen by Tony etc. but once Peter joins and takes Tonys full attention reader just automatically hates him for ‘stealing his dad from him’. As time goes on reader just gets more hateful and jealous of Peter, maybe getting into fights with Peter on purpose. Suddenly there’s a new villain/anti-hero (??) that’s been interfering with there plans or just wrecking havoc to go after Peter. Plot twist when they finally catch them/they’re too hurt to keep fighting, it’s revealed as reader. You can make it as angsty as u want!

(A.K.A. Reader is Loki, Peter is Thor and Tony is Odin lol)

 AHH THIS

I love this trope-

So glad you requested this, (and thank you for checking stuff first) and enjoy

Also note that I’m not too fresh on the marvel timeline, if you notice anything that doesn’t exactly align with the movie than I’m sorry just brush past it- this also might be the longest fic I’ve ever written so 

Implied to be set around the start of Peter’s Spider-Man stuff. 

x

Look What You Made Me Do

Male Stark Reader x Avengers

“If I loved you, was a promise….

Would you break it, if you’re honest?” 

[idontwannabeyouanymore, Billie Eillish, 2017]

Cw: violence/fighting, Tony being a bad dad, slightest mentions of drinking, angst Kind of jumping straight into it too- 

I’ll fix a few things later I’m tired I want this one to be out and about

X

If you were to ask anyone about the wealthiest men in modern day New York, it’s inevitable for Tony Stark to appear somewhere on that list.

He’s rich, handsome, a superhero. New  York’s knight in shining armor. 

Most believe his life is a dream, somehow oblivious to the fact that maybe a superhero doesn’t live life in the dream house. But when he’s made his brand through money, fancy houses, big parties, and shiny military weapons it’s easy for people to see no further than surface level.

That isn’t the case for his son, though. 

From a wealth aspect of it- the young Stark knows how grateful he is, how grateful he should be, for his father.

If it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t be currently sitting in this large bedroom, with a view most would pay a couple grand for, wouldn’t be surrounded by the various expensive objects linked to his little interests. It doesn’t even matter how much Y/n would insist on paying- he never seems to think much of it. Maybe it’s his way of showing affection.

That’s what Y/n hopes, at least. 

Because if not- there’s not much there. Tony Stark has never been much of an affectionate person, some may blame it on his own father. Others would blame it on the business- no time for distractions on a long days work.

But neither of those reasons matter- for all his son ever wanted is for Tony to love him the way he wants him to.

-

Static crackles through Y/n’s small speaker, and quickly the boy perks up. A short glance  over and he finds the old Queen record spinning aimlessly, with the tone arm at the end of its songs.

Pushing himself off the bed, he walks over to the stand where Tony’s old record player sits. Taking the arm off- he flips the record over to side b, before returning it to its place. 

The intro of Queen’s “Hammer to Fall” begins ringing from the speaker, and a small, satisfied smile grows on Y/n’s face.

He hums the beat, nodding his head with it while turning back to his bed- but something catches his eye.

Outside, there’s two figures standing out front. One eyebrow raises, Y/n slowly steps closer to the window. 

“Who-?”

Recognizing his dad, dressed in his best suit, Y/n leans closer. The other figure isn’t quite as tall as Tony, and looks quite obviously nervous. 

Y/n furrows his eyebrows. 

….That’s Peter Parker.

What the hell is he doing at Stark’s house?

***

The sound of a backpack falling to the ground echoes through the foyer- and immediately it’s a sigh of relief. The sweet, sweet air conditioning here is heavenly in contrast to the one at school.

Y/n faintly feels a vibration in his pocket- grabbing it only to see multiple notifications coming from a group chat. 

‘What are they on…’ he wonders, scrolling through countless messages worth of nonsense. He goes to reply, when-

“Y/n!”

His head snaps up at the voice, echoing out from the couch.

‘didn’t realize he was home…’ he looks back at the window, finding his father’s car parked in the driveway. 

“Oh.” 

Deciding the group chat can wait, the teen wanders to where his father sits. 

“What’s up?” Immediately Y/n sees the  scattered papers piling on top of one another on the coffee table, the short crystal glass filled halfway with rum. You’d think he’d wait until at least five, but that’s not the Stark way.

“I found a uh, form on the coffee table,” his voice sounds bored, tired, “something about textbooks for school?”

Y/n notices the forms sitting at the edge farthest from Tony, as if they’d been pushed away as far as they could go. 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” He says awkwardly, looking at the dirty laces of his shoes, “it’s fine, I got it.” 

“Well I can pay for them, if that’s what you’d like.” The eldest Stark shrugs, finally looking at his son from over the rim of his glasses.

Y/n almost feels embarrassed- when had he asked for that? He shakes his head, though it doesn’t hide the surprised look on his face.

“No, no you don’t have to-“

“Oh please, I got it, education is our future or something, right?” Tony shrugs, taking off his glasses and beginning to stand up from his chair, headed for the black leather wallet he’d left on the dining table. 

Y/n isn’t quite sure why he’s now rushing to step in front of his dad- there isn’t much harm in the gesture after all. Maybe he just doesn’t want the weight of depending on his father for everything to lay on his shoulders. Either way, excuses are already falling from his mouth.

“You really don’t have to, dad-“

“You’re acting like I’m handing you the presidents treasury,” Tony deadpans, “besides, you don’t have a job.”

Y/n pauses. 

“Wha- yes, I do-“ does his dad really not know about his job?

“Look, it doesn’t matter, I can get them used anyways-“

Before he can take one step closer, a nervous voice quips up from the doorway and ends the race for the wallet.

“Um, Mr. Stark?”

Curiously, Y/n and his dad snap their heads to see who has just joined them.

“Peter-?”

Peter Parker stands in the large door way, curled into himself with his backpack strap folded between his fist. His eyes are wide and questioning, looking between his classmate and his idol as if he had walked into the wrong room. 

Suddenly, Tony’s shoulders drop- and he’s no longer interested in any textbook or wallet. 

“Ah, Parker, didn’t think you’d make it.” He says bluntly, strutting away from his son and towards the obviously nervous boy. 

“Here, sit down kid.”

With the man’s hand pressed into his shoulder blade, Peter has no choice but to follow him towards the various seats lining the dining table. And from the side- Y/n watches, absolutely lost.

After he had seen his father and Peter talking, he kept it to himself. Knowing the boy, he had simply assumed Peter was asking for an autograph or a picture, just like half of the city. 

But now, he is in his house. At his table. 

What the hell is this?

“Um,” Y/n’s voice sounds blunt, almost too similar to his father- who’s already sitting down across from Peter with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised, as if this was a press conference. 

Peter looks at him first, while his father throws a glance over his shoulder. 

“What’s this?” Y/n asks, pointing to the strange teenage boy sitting down in his seat. Tony tiredly leans back in the chair, twisting to the side just slightly so he could look at Y/n head on. 

“Y/n, this is Peter, Peter, this is Y/n.” 

“Uh, yeah, we know each other.” Peter pipes up, giving Y/n the shortest, most awkward smile it seems he could muster. Y/n’s face stays blank.

“Yeah, I meant what is he doing here?”

Tony doesn’t seem at all phased by the rude undertones of Y/n’s question.

“Peter is gonna work as my intern for a little while, I’m training him.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow. 

“For what-“

“Hey, quit interrupting, will you?” Tony dismisses him with the wave of his hand, turning around so he’s fully facing Peter. And Y/n lingers there, processing. He doesn’t like feeling like a shadow, not in his own home especially, but that’s the feeling that begins to overtake him.

Intern…? 

He tries understanding what that means- there’s many possibilities. Assistant, maybe. But when he looks between his dad and his classmate one last time, seeing that he’s been nearly forgotten in the room (aside from the short glances from Peter’s end) he turns around to retreat, fists clenched. 

His dad has had interns before, Peter likely won’t be much different. Possibly.

***

It’s been 5 weeks.

And multiple times, for each of those weeks, Peter has been somewhere mixed into the tangle of Tony Stark’s extensive schedule, far more entangled than Y/n has been for the past few years.

He shows up to dinner, trains at the Avenger’s tower. He comes knocking on the door randomly asking for life advice, or something- he’s everywhere.

It wasn’t even until week 4 that Y/n discovered the truth behind his sudden presence, when he saw the suit for the first time.

He has his own suit, god can you believe it?

Y/n watches on as Tony seems to easily bring Peter under his wing- hating how he has to avoid the burning green envy that burns his ears. How has Tony managed to take on the father figure role to Peter, when he barely manages that role with his own son?

‘It shouldn’t hurt this bad,’ y/n will think to himself, ‘you’re independent, relying on him will only make it harder in the long run.’

But he couldn’t help the hardened glare that arose every time he saw his dad, his own dad, bonding with someone else the way he had been wanting for what- 16 years?

Even now, sitting at the table, while the teen stares into the bowl of cereal in front of him, it’s just so irking to think about. 

His spoon scrapes the edges of the bowl, gathering the now soggy cheerios into a cluster in its silver dip. Then, they get lost in his mouth. Rinse and repeat- he does it over and over while staring a blazing hole into the wall. 

What is Peter doing that he can’t?

“Mr. Stark-“ 

Speak of the devil. 

Y/n’s grip on the spoon tightens.

Peter comes stumbling into the room, out of breathe as if he sprinted all the way here. He doesn’t even knock anymore, Y/n thinks, he’s made himself at home.

“Kid? What’re you doing here?” 

The nickname sends a shivering twitch through Y/n’s already sore muscles, tugging his face so he can’t control the annoyed look that comes through. 

They’re talking to each other now, Peter trying to tell a story far too quickly for either of them to follow. Y/n blocks their voices out.

His chair scrapes against the floor, and he grabs his bag to leave. 

“I’m going to school.” He says loudly, cutting off their conversation. 

“Oh, I guess I gotta go too-“ 

“No,” Peter freezes, looking at Y/n curiously, “no, no stay here longer why don’t you? Practically your house.” Venom leaks from his words, the sarcasm so loud it makes Peter flinch. 

“Y/n,” Tony groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. Y/n’s stare only hardens.

“What?” He snaps, now looking at his father. 

“Really?” Is all that Tony manages, before Y/n is rolling his eyes and spinning on his heel.

“(F/n) is waiting for me.” He grumbles, snatching his phone and stomping out of the room. 

How does his dad not get it? Is he so blind he can’t even see his own blatant favoritism? 

The look of exhaustion displayed on his face would make you think hes working day and night having to put up with Y/n’s attitude- yet he’s unaware he’s exactly what’s causing it. 

Y/n doesn’t want to blame Peter, in the back of his mind he knows that it’s his dad’s fault. But it feels like his father is being stolen.

But can it really be theft if there wasn’t much of him in the first place?

Y/n knows that he’s picking all the fights, starting all the arguments just so that twisted part of his head gets some satisfaction. 

It shouldn’t be working so well.

.

The young Stark doesn’t return home until it’s just about dark outside, his backpack hanging loosely off his shoulders. 

He walks the long halls of his home, past the doors that could either be a guest bathroom or a weapon closet. Even if there’s more entryways than doors, his father opting for large empty frames, he walks the length of it with no specific destination in mind. 

He isn’t too sure where he’s headed anyways, considering he’s passed the way to his bedroom already.

Through half lidded eyes he guides himself through this maze of a house, bitter jealousy bubbling in his lungs. It’s such a haunting thought, a looming presence, and he wishes he could push it down the drain but it seems that he can’t. 

“Stupid, stupid Peter…” he mumbles, hand grazing the wall beside him. 

Ned’s voice still rings in his ears, breathy from how he had been exercising for most of the class.

“You don’t know what he looks like- what if he’s like seriously burnt?”

“I wouldn’t care, I would still love him for the person he is on the inside.”

Of course it caught their attention- Peter’s little crush on Liz wasn’t hard for most to notice. 

“Peter knows Spider-Man!”

How horrible. 

Across the room, Y/n’s head snapped to where the pair was on the gym floor- Peter’s jaw slacked. It didn’t matter how much he tried to quickly say otherwise- Flash already had slid down the climbing rope with another remark slick on the edge of his tongue.

And Y/n watched on, eye twitching, feeling how his  friends slapped his arm in amusement. 

“I can’t tell if he’s for real or not-“ F/n mumbled from next to him. Y/n’s eyes never tore away from the scene playing out ahead, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah,” and his eyes squeezed shut, “me neither.”

Y/n’s fists curl together, knuckles scraping the wall for a moment before he’s pulling away.

It’s so frustrating. 

He’s walking further down the corridor, eyes sliding open just in time to catch a door left slightly ajar- and he pauses.

He’s passed the door many times, no doubt, but this time it’s different. There’s something pulling him inside, an unknown source that’s too intriguing to walk past.

Slowly, he pushes open the door. And there it is.

Old bins and cabinets with junk gadgets shoved inside- worn blueprints from his fathers old work. One eyebrow raises, cogs turning and grinding in his head.

There’s some things still in tact, some that have been broken apart and scattered about. Y/n kneels down to observe closer. 

He feels the smooth surface of a metal clasp against his fingertips, grazing the jumbled objects. 

This is his answer.

The backpack slides off his shoulders, thumping on the ground beside him. This room is one that his father doesn’t visit much anymore, now much more caught up in other things such as the Avengers, Peter, the scattered piles of paperwork that seem to constantly consume him.

And in the corner, there’s a bend in the wall partially hidden by a cabinet- if you were to tuck something inside, no one could see from the door frame.

Y/n already feels his mind blooming with ideas as he skims over the various parts and pieces in front of him.

If he can’t live up to his fathers standards, his fathers name, 

then he’ll make his own.

***

Multiple nights pass, weeks go by and Y/n finds himself spending the time after dinner until midnight cooped up in Tony’s old gear room. 

He likes to think it’s a family trait, something tying him to the Stark name, also known as his skill for parts. He can take a few glances at both his own notes as well as the old blueprints and suddenly have the necessary concept for a retractable weapon, built to strike out of an arm piece. And when he’s done, he simply drags it all into his tucked in corner- hidden until night falls again the next day. 

Time not spent at school, occasionally in his room, or in his new lab- is now spent taking full advantage of the gym on the higher floors. 

The Avengers don’t question it, barely even using it at the same time as him anyways. He’s planned it so no one is around to see the training he does, the work put in to not only muscle- but also skill.

He doesn’t have a vigilante name just yet- but perhaps that’s the fun in it. He’s totally anonymous.

And as the firm punching bag jerks beneath his incoming fist, he feels the creeping joy of power.

Y/n puts lots of thought into the first strike against the city- building an elaborate yet somewhat reckless attack plan, a formula. 

No citizen will get hurt- it’s only the churning, growing need for revenge he wants so badly to be satisfied. Among the jumbled emotions, and new discoveries, he knows what he wants, and he knows just who he wants to be.

Y/n Stark may never be the millionaire superhero his father is- but he will be something. Something that no one will ever expect.

***

“A new vigilante seems to be on the loose, unidentified. They’ve struck many times already, but police have noticed that, interestingly enough, among the pattern of crime scenes none of the main public areas or citizens have been hit. Could this be the work of an Anti-hero, perhaps? Down at the Avengers Tow-“ 

The anchorman’s voice is cut off, mid sentence, and Tony holds the remote firmly. 

Around him, on the expensive couches sit the Avengers themselves, but their faces are dulled by distress, their knuckles tense from a firm grip. 

“We gotta find this guy,” Bruce sighs, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose tightly. Beside him, Natasha agrees.

“If we don’t catch them soon, people will start doubting us.” She says it like it’s so simple, lips pressed into a thin line. Steve groans.

“They aren’t gonna start doubting us-“ he tries, but no one seems to believe him. 

“Oh really? Sounds like you’ve got some superstar solution then, huh?” Tony, always packed full of sarcasm, looks absolutely exasperated. He’s been looking tirelessly for this new ‘vigilante’ of the sorts - they don’t even seem to have a name. They work quickly and precisely, yet go at it with a powerful vengeance. Their skill- it’s almost something he wants to respect. 

The group begins to speak again, switching between civil turn taking and overlapping words. They don’t even notice the figure standing by the door. 

Y/n peaks his head around the door frame, watching these strong, powerful superheroes stressing over him. Oh, they just have no clue.

As they’re still talking, planning unknowingly within earshot of their own enemy- Y/n takes his notes. He listens, until finally he slips past the door and walks quietly down the hall as the sick, strong feeling of triumph sinks into his stomach. 

He’s got them.

***

The rumbling fill of chaos echoes from all around- machines jittering, codes breaking, and a light flickers down the hall.

Y/n stands at the center of the room, looking around at one of his father’s many warehouses from all around- this one being stationed north of his own home state- Maine, USA.

His dad brought him here only a few times as a kid, once or twice perhaps. He always hated it- still does, actually, hence the small bombs scattered across the place. 

It would be funny, to think that not even the Avengers have caught on to his pattern- but that may be jinxing it. Plus, he knows the common traits of each area he’s hit so far, the places holding the unjust power. This stop, though, he’s been waiting to finally hit.

“Stark Enterprises” - a sign once strung together in big letters, now laying at Y/n’s feet broken into pieces. The boy crouches down, picking up a chunk from the “E” and crushes it in his hands. 

Under his mask, he grins. 

His suit, not quite as advanced as those made by his father, fits him well. The sleeves are tighter, snugly wrapped around his biceps with streaks of purple running through the black material. Padding, like thin layers of armor, protect his torso and the pants are the most loose- cargo, with big pockets.

A mask is what pulls the whole thing together, though, concealing the entirety of his head underneath its black and purple coloring. 

Littering his hands, and even weaved into the material all across, are the gadgets he’s spent so many hours on. Rings sealed into the gloves have enough sharp metal twisted together inside that when activated, spread into blades. In the pocket around his waist band- is a button, the button, that with one push turns this warehouse into a cloud of orange and yellow. 

Y/n is still watching the crumbling sign fall from his palm, like grains of sand, when the door caves in behind him. 

“Put your hands up, tough guy, we caught you.”

Captain America, confident as ever, bursts in at the front of the group with his shield held high. Behind him, Tony, Peter, Natasha and even Bruce waltz right in after him. For a second- a glimmer of pride washes through Y/n’s body, they brought 5 to a fight against 1- he must be special.

“Yeah, times up buddy.”

Seeing his father, dressed in the famous Ironman suit, reminds Y/n of the whole reason this started- and another twisted feeling knots itself in his stomach.

The moment he’s been waiting for.

They can’t see him as he smirks underneath the mask, deciding to toy with them just a bit. He doesn’t speak- no one’s heard his voice when spoken through the filtered material yet. It seems they’ll be the first.

Y/n’s head cocks to the side, and raises an eyebrow- something the Avengers can see through the imprint of his mask. A challenge. 

Bruce’s battle cry cuts through the air- and suddenly the Hulk is charging. It startles Y/n for a moment, but quickly he steps to the side and lets the green giant crush the ground beside him. As Hulk gets back up, snarling and growling, Y/n is already grabbing a long beam, bent from where it fell with the rest of the Stark Enterprise’s sign, and strikes Hulk right in the gut.

The giant man stumbles slightly, yet still stomps forward. But Y/n isn’t in front of him.

“Hulk!” Natasha yells out, watching from across the room as Y/n comes from behind, mid air, wielding the same beam from before. Hulk is barely able to tilt his head an inch before the metal is crashing down into the area just below his head, and bruising his neck. 

He’s out within a few seconds, stumbling around clumsily while black dots tease his vision. Then, he falls to the floor.

“Well shit.” Steve mutters, bending his knees like a bull preparing to charge. He should’ve known sending in Hulk with no preparations would be a bad an idea.

“Sending the big one in first, huh?” Y/n looks at them cockily, “do you see me as a threat, Ironman?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, “oh look at that, he can talk.”  He doesn’t even skip a beat as his suit begins to whir, the arm unfolding so a mini blaster pokes out from the forearm. 

The vigilante barely has time to react as strings of energy are thrown his way, jumping and dodging each of them narrowly. Tony doesn’t wait for him to regain his footing though, flying straight towards his figure.

Steve eyes Natasha, gesturing for her to move. The woman obliges, creeping around the fight so Y/n’s back is in front of her. 

Ironman grabs Y/n by the shoulders, pushing down with such strong force that the latter is forced back a few steps. He holds the metal sleeves with a firm grip, and at first Tony doesn’t notice as the boy’s rings begin to scrape against the surface. Sparks fly like the touch of a welding torch, grazing the edges of Tony’s mask just in time for him to realize mini blades are beginning to prod at his suit. Y/n doesn’t hesitate to take the opportunity and shove the man away from him. 

Natasha watches closely, seeing how Y/n stumbles from the impact. She jumps at him.

Y/n extends his arm in her direction, not even turning all the way around, and his rings grow from small blades to a sharp spiral of metal pointing right at Black Widow’s chest.

She freezes, he smirks.

Of course, it’s not his intention for someone to die. That’s not what he does. This, well, is simply defense.

“How about we get right to the point.” He says, slipping his free hand into one of the pouches around his waist band. Out with it comes a cylinder- black and sleek with some sort of dial built in, a bright red button on top. 

Steve feels his stomach drop. 

“Pick a number.”

Tony, seemingly unaware of the detonator to have just been introduced, rolls his eyes, he’s growing impatient. 

“Alright, fine, 5- you wanna quit it with the games now?”

Big mistake.

Without skipping a step, Y/n is scrolling through digits on the small screen built into the detonator. It’s almost too quick for any of the Avengers to realize what he’s doing- and it’s far too late by the time they do. 

“Alright, then.” Y/n presses the button.

Steve goes to lunge forward, tries to make a grab for the device, but he waited too long. The whole room rattles, and the section just to the left of them suddenly bursts. Bombs. 

Y/n watches with a special glint in his covered eyes as everyone stumbles, yet his feet stay firmly planted in the ground. They’re startled, bits of the wall flying around and clattering against the floor. Peter snaps his head towards Y/n in shock.

“Who’s next?”

“Oh my god.” Peter mumbles, wide eyed. It’s the sound of his voice, his first time saying a word, that catches Y/n’s attention right away.

His teeth grind together, thumb smoothing over the button’s smooth surface. His mind mumbles, Do it again.

Staring into the large white panels of Peter’s mask, his guard is left fallen for just a moment too long. Tony sends one more blast his way. 

A jolt of pain seers through Y/n’s thigh. The energy was strong enough to surpass the material of his pants, leaving a heavy ache in the area. Y/n glares.

“You asshole,” he grunts, spinning the dial with his thumb before slamming down the button.

Above them, part of the ceiling crumbles.

Bits of concrete come tumbling down, Peter and Natasha diving for cover. But Y/n is no where near finished.

“How many bombs are there-“ Peter asks to no one in particular. His question is soon to be answered.

“Let’s not wait to find out,” Steve grunts, sprinting to where his opponent stands at the opposite side of the room. Y/n feels the previous feeling of confidence, the smooth and cocky facade, slipping away. He wants to win.

Each of Captain America’s hits clang against metal couplets clasped to Y/n’s wrist- chaos ensues around them. Tony firing shots, Peter surrounding the fight, Natasha running for a hit at close combat- and hulk just starting to stir from his little nap. 

But Y/n doesn’t let up- not until it’s too late.

A fiery blaze heads straight for him, straight for his face. It’s beginning to sizzle against his ears, he can feel it coming. But he doesn’t react in time, trying to defend himself from too many things at once. 

The blast, coming from his own father’s hand, hits him.

His mask begins to spark, edges curling into themselves as slowly, Y/n feels the right side of his face being revealed. 

His hand meets the wall, holding him up as he recovers from the impact. They haven’t seen him yet. 

He hears Steve’s heavy breathing from behind him, something so familiar it almost tricks his mind. Then, Tony’s voice.

“It only takes a few hits, huh? If I knew that’s all it took I wouldn’t have wasted so much time.”

More sarcasm, Y/n almost laughs.

“Who are you.” Natasha doesn’t even make it sound like a question, her voice strong and firm. 

Silence ensues, just for a moment, Y/n’s head is swimming. 

Yet, over all the thoughts and noise, one thing screams loudest over the rest. 

“Do. It.”

“Don’t you recognize me?” Y/n’s voice, no longer protected by a filter, is raspy and hoarse. He slowly turns around, head peaking out of the shadows.

“You know me already…”

.

.

Holy shit.

A loud clang echoes through the now dead silent room, the red white and silver shield rolling across the floor. 

“…Y/n?” 

Tony’s helmet folds into itself, revealing a sweaty face with wide eyes and a slack jaw. 

A bitter smile is what he receives.

“Dad.”

Tony looks around, dumbfounded. 

“I-“ he stutters, nearly speechless, “what- what the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Y/n steps forward, voice dry yet dripping with venom. 

Tony chokes, “being an absolute moron, that’s what-“

Y/n barks out a rough, quick laugh. “Ooh, rough.” He rasps. Steve steps forward, putting a hand onto Tony’s shoulder and pulling him back. It’s like a warning, silent communication because next, he’s the one to step forward.

“Y/n…” the words die on the tip of his tongue, throat running dry, but he still tries, “what- I mean, why?”

Y/n has begun to pace slightly, taking slow steps around the shocked group. He peels the mask away from his face.

“Yknow, most people tend to turn to the worst of their options when in a dark time,” he says smoothly, feeling each and every set of eyes watching while he walks. Hulk watches through blurred vision, completely disoriented. 

“I mean, hate to give you the classic origin story and everything, but…” 

“Hold on,” the thoughts are almost visible, loud and heavy in Tony’s head, “is this about something I did?”

So he’s finally getting it.

“What could Tony have possibly done?” Asks Natasha, and Y/n looks at his father directly.

“You don’t care, ok, that’s what-“ his voice is breathy, and he scowls, “You can’t even talk to your own kid, Stark. It’s like you don’t realize what I am, to you- what you are to me!” Anger rises with each word that shoots like poison from Y/n’s mouth. 

Tony gets defensive, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “That’s not true, I know damn well you’re my kid-“

“Oh really? Cause you seem to have it a bit mixed up.” Y/n’s eyes flicker to Peter’s frame, and everyone tenses.

“Is…is this about Peter?”

At the mention of his name, Peter tears off his mask, a concerned, heavy look on his face. 

“I, Y/n it’s not like that-“ he tries, only to be interrupted.

“Yknow,” Y/n’s voice sounds so pained, “I always thought maybe you aren’t too upfront with your affection. For years, ok, I would wake up, go to school, come back, and go to bed all without saying more than a few words to you. Years, dad.” A lump is forming in his throat, but it’s too late to turn back now. “But then, out of nowhere, someone else comes into the picture and suddenly you’re taking him to lunch, you’re picking him up from school, basically spending way more time with him, than with me.”

Bold, bitter, and wavering- Y/n doesn’t stop. Even as his father, his classmate, the people he’d grown up with thinking were like family, just watch with feeling burning in their eyes. 

“Y/n,”

“You made it look so easy with him.”

“Hey, kid, c’mon-“

“Are you serious?!” Y/n yells in disbelief. “Are you gonna tell me I’m wrong? Is that it? I’m just exaggerating, or what-“

Tony straightens his posture, swallowing hard. 

Y/n’s face almost crumbles from the way his fathers face wavers. But he just doesn’t stop. 

“You can be the greatest hero in the world,” Y/n breathes, sweat sparkling around the frame of his face, “you can put on a face for the interviews, and train Peter to perfection,” a step closer, “but don’t forget that I’ve always been here too.” 

Y/n’s voice sounds so dark, unfamiliar and breaking, it’s gone raspy from the pounding drum of his heart beat. 

Ringing silence once more. 6 melting souls standing in the waste of their own troubles. 

Y/n feels budding tears threatening to spill.

“And now look what we’ve done.” 

[mastergeeka]

I said I had notebooks worth of thoughts dedicated to this bit and I wasn’t kidding. I may be a clown but I’m a clown of my word. How many people requested this? Honestly not many, but I tend to crumble at the slightest bit of peer pressure when it comes to bits. I was going to make this a whole video essay, and I still might at some point, but I have so many other videos I want to do, an essay will have to suffice for now.

The bit in question, the first rule of Board Game Club #98 from Sniper Elite The Board Game (Thank you to the Patreon Discord for help counting!). The first rule of Board Game Club is "there's always something to envy: a smile, a friendship, something you don't have and want to appropriate, *beat* Sullivan." Adam then proceeds to pull a little smirky face before he launches into the rules because of course he does. It’s also relevant to note that Adam delivers the line with his weird “I’m a magnificent smarmy bastard ooh I’m trying to be sexy” voice/schtick. It’s hit or miss with me, sometimes it makes me want to bury my face in my hands, but here the absurdity is just funny.

While I or any other NRB viewer probably won’t recognise where this quote originates, the emphasis on Sullivan and accompanying smarmy face/Bond villain persona lets us know “Ah another bit in the series of ‘Adam & Sullivan are in love despite Brooke’s protests’ gags”. You learn about this gag very quickly watching NRB videos with Brooke or frankly just from the NRB wiki. It’s the first gag listed and Sullivan is still the answer Google gives you if you look up who Adam from NRB is dating. It’s still astounding to me how far the bit goes.

For most viewers, the joke ends there. Adam is once again trying to steal Brooke’s boyfriend, haha. They might correctly assume “That first bit is just a quote from some WWII movie to tie in the WWII theme of the game” and move on. They might even get curious as to what movie it is, and find it‘s from the 2001 movie Enemy at the Gate, but that’s probably where their curiosity stops if they even get that far. Because it’s an intro gag of a board game video. This is all heavily treaded ground for them and it takes up less than 45 seconds. How much time, energy, and thinking space are you going to dedicate to a small bit like that?

If you’re me, the answer, of course, is entirely too much because there’s something wrong with me, psychologically. It may not be that deep but the ground is soft and I’m ready to dig. Now, for the record, the “Adam & Sullivan are dating” bit at this point in time is already living rent-free, utilities included, in my brain. It seemed like by a certain point, everyone was in on it, all the time. It became ubiquitous, as this particular bit shows. This episode does not feature Brooke. Brooke’s name is not even mentioned but we still gotta hammer home that boyfriend bit, somehow. Also, at this point in my NRB fan journey, I was under the impression that this bit came to be as a way of teasing Brooke. For the record, I have now learned this is not really the case because these two have had this “vibe”, “chemistry” or whatever you wanna call it from day dot and they have kept it up this whole time. Had I known that, maybe I wouldn’t have let this bit send me so far down a rabbit hole. Maybe, I could have just chalked it up to “those kooky boys are kooky” and left it there.

“BUT I DIDN’T DO THAT!” (It’s amazing that I still believe I’m funny. ) The point is Brooke is not here, so I was mystified by Adam’s choice to go with this bit. In the beginning of the episode no less, where there may be potential new viewers who aren’t familiar with the love triangle thing at all and are just going to be thrown off. Questioning Adam’s choices is, of course, one of my favourite hobbies because not only do I think he’s batshit insane (affectionate), but I’m also fascinated by the comedic creative process. “How did you come up with this shit? How did we get here?”

This is where I start actually exploring the source of this quote because while it seems like the Sullivan was an add-on, I did entertain the idea it wasn’t and that was how we got here. Well, the film is set in Russia and all the characters have Russian names so that’s a no. The main character is a sniper so there’s that but that just strengthens the connection I already understood. It still didn’t explain why Adam decided “You know what this video about a WWII inspired board game needs. It needs me being very gay for my best friend. That’s really important”

So I look into the context of the quote hoping to find some answers and while I do find answers, I also find a bajillion more questions. Both the speaker, Danilov and the main character Zaitsev, who the speaker is addressing, are in a love triangle together, much like the setup we have of Adam, Sullivan, and Brooke. Hooray, connection found, end of story. Except no, not end of story. The line Adam says is not the full quote. The full quote is ‘We tried so hard to create a society that was equal, where there'd be nothing to envy your neighbour. But there's always something to envy. A smile, a friendship, something you don't have and want to appropriate. In this world, even a Soviet one, there will always be rich and poor.”

EXCUSE ME!? This has been about Communism this whole time?! It just gets stranger from here so strap in. This line is said to the speaker’s rival love interest, not their mutual target of affection, a woman named Tania. Which yeah this film was made in 2001, probably not gonna see a lot of gay relationships on screen. So does that mean Adam is supposedly addressing Brooke in this reenactment? Sure, okay. I guess I can accept that for now

Next crazy piece of context, circling back to the Communism thing again for a moment. The speaker, Danilov, has been a huge believer in building a Soviet Communist Utopia after the war up until apparently right fucking now. His crush friend-zoned him for his friend, the main character Zaitsev, and that makes him decide, “Damn guess Communism will never work. The economic system of Communism doesn’t work because I’d still be crushing on my friend’s girl.” I’m sorry, that’s an absolutely bonkers reason to ditch your whole worldview of what an ideal society can and should look like. Just insane. Once again, this dynamic is the one Adam chose to relate to his, Sullivan, and Brooke’s relationship. Think about that.

Last but certainly not least in “What Huh?! This is the type of energy you’re gonna bring to your board game video?!” section. Right after the speaker, Danilov, the role that Adam is playing in this weird analogy that HE CREATED, remember he chose this, says this line, he fucking dies. It’s the same scene, too. He says the thing and then he dies, right in front of the main character. He sacrifices himself for the main character, presumably so the main character and Tania, who would be Sullivan in this scenario, can live happily ever after or something. I didn’t watch the whole goddamn movie okay. Apparently it’s not a great movie. It doesn’t seem that popular of a movie either, so that's another reason to pick literally any other movie set around WWII or deals with Nazis. There’s a freaking ton of those. It’s a very popular setting. You had options, my guy, so why are we doing this?

Knowing all of that, let’s go back to the Board Game Club moment since I now am able to know what Adam is referencing. And Adam expects some people to know what he’s referencing otherwise what’s the fucking point of making the reference, right?

Maybe the sick knowledge that someday, some idiot is gonna start looking into it and get real fucking confused and you know what, if that was your goal. You succeeded, Gold star, mate. Here ya go.

But let’s assume this wasn’t a twisted mind game to spite me specifically because Adam surely has better things to do with his time, surely. He expects some people to watch that bit knowing that context. What was his intended reaction from those people and how is the reaction not “Hey what the fuck, What the fuck?!” ? Because, whether you know the NRB love triangle bit or not, those are a character’s last words, despairing about the impossibility of Communism because he got friend-zoned, and this is a board game comedy video. Those aren’t exactly what I’d call “compatible”

And you know what’s also not compatible with that quote? BOND VILLAINY, TRYING TO BE SEXY, ACTING LIKE AN ARCHETYPAL CHESSMASTER MAGNIFICENT BASTARD FUCKING ANY PART OF ADAM’S WHOLE DELIVERY! So anyone familiar with the quote, especially someone who doesn’t know about Adam’s love for pretending to be a “sexy evil genius” before his hubris inevitably runs him over like a truck, is going to be very thrown! That poor hypothetical new viewer is even more confused than I am right now!

I’ve said this for a while now. If the day ever comes where I am able to meet Adam, I want to sit him down and just ask him questions and most if not all of those questions will start with “How and Why (in the absolute fuck) did you *insert insane thing here*? And let me tell you this will be at the top of that list. Not the very top though, that’s reserved for the LOTB 2022 promos. “Adam the box why the box why the everything with the box, like obviously the tongue is just, what the hell but even the build up with the other boxes why?”

Now, after having done this whole deep dive investigation, I have come upon the likely possibility that Adam just googled WW2 sniper film, picked out Enemy at the Gates from the first few results, picked a quote from the movie and went from there. There’s a chance he never thought about it this hard and I went on this long journey for no real reason. But even in that case, all of these implications are still here and they are insane implications for a comedy board game video! At the end of the day, he still compared his jokingly homo-erotic relationship with his friend and rivalry with said friend’s partner to this movie as the intro to a YouTube video and I refuse to become desensitised to this level of insanity and wackiness. I just refuse.

[mintyys-blog]

SILKEN CHAINS — dark! peter parker

chapter II

The first few weeks in your new home passed in a blissful haze.

Peter was everything you expected him to be—attentive, loving, and just as excited as you were to build this new chapter of your life together. He insisted on doing most of the work, using his superhuman abilities to make things easier for you. You barely had to lift a finger. At first, it was sweet. Peter had always been protective, always eager to take care of you.

But something about it was… different now.

At first, it was small things.

You’d try to carry in groceries, and Peter would pluck the bags from your hands before you could protest. “No need for you to strain yourself, sweetheart.”

You’d attempt to hang up picture frames, only for him to take the nails and hammer from your grip. “You could hurt yourself. Let me do it.”

And if you ever pushed back—if you ever said I can handle it, Pete—he’d just chuckle, kiss your forehead, and say, “I know you can. But why should you have to?”

Sweet. Thoughtful. Completely reasonable.

So you let it slide.

You had bigger things to focus on, anyway. Work had been piling up lately, and the hour-long commute each way was exhausting. Still, you liked your job. You liked the independence it gave you, the sense of accomplishment. It was yours—separate from being Peter’s wife.

So, when he brought up the idea of you quitting, it caught you off guard.

It was late, the two of you curled up on the couch after dinner. Peter had his arms around you, idly playing with your hair, fingers threading through the strands in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. The room was dimly lit, the warmth of his body pressing into yours.

“I was thinking,” he murmured, his voice smooth, affectionate. “Maybe it’s time you stop working.”

Your fingers, which had been tracing circles against his knee, paused. “What?”

He hummed, still toying with your hair. “I just mean… I make more than enough for us. And your drive is so long, baby. Wouldn’t it be nice to just… relax? Focus on yourself? On us?”

You sat up slightly, blinking at him. “Peter, I like working.”

His hand stilled, tangled in your hair.

“I know,” he said after a beat, his voice still gentle. “But you don’t have to.”

“That’s not the point,” you said, shifting to face him fully. “I like being able to support myself. I like having something that’s mine.”

Peter tilted his head, his expression unreadable. His fingers, still tangled in your hair, started to tighten—just a little. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to hold you there.

“But you have me,” he said, voice soft.

A strange sensation curled in your stomach. His eyes were steady, unwavering, his grip firm.

You swallowed. “Peter, I—”

And then, just like that, the tension in his shoulders melted away. His hold loosened, his usual, easygoing smile returning as if nothing had happened.

“I just don’t want you to overwork yourself, sweetheart,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But I get it. If it makes you happy, then that’s all that matters.”

The shift was so quick—so effortless—that you felt almost silly for thinking anything of it.

Still, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered: He didn’t like that answer.

So, before you could second-guess yourself, you forced a smile and murmured, “Maybe if we have kids one day. Then I’d think about staying home.”

Peter’s smile widened.

Almost too much.

His fingers, now gentle again, slid through your hair, smoothing it down.

“I like that idea,” he said.

And for the rest of the night, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just given him exactly what he wanted.

As the days passed, you couldn’t shake the growing unease that settled deep in your chest. Peter’s words kept echoing in your mind, each syllable wrapped in a kind of warmth that only seemed to make them heavier. If it makes you happy, then that’s all that matters. But that wasn’t the whole truth, was it?

You had always been independent—had always prided yourself on being able to stand on your own. And Peter, who you knew and loved, had never seemed like the type to take that from you.

But lately, you couldn’t help but feel… trapped.

It started with the small things. Peter began to notice things about your clothes—things you hadn’t given much thought to.

“You’re wearing that?” he asked one morning, watching you as you pulled on your skirt. His tone was light, but his gaze was intense.

You glanced at him, confused. “It’s just a skirt, Pete. It’s not that short.”

He smiled, but there was a flicker of something dark in his eyes. “It’s just… I don’t know, baby. I think it’s a little distracting. You don’t want anyone staring, do you?”

You laughed it off, shrugging. “It’s just for work. No one’s going to pay attention.”

But the next day, as you reached for your blouse, you noticed Peter watching you again, his eyes following every movement, his gaze calculating.

You didn’t mention it. You just went to work, as usual. But when you came home that night, you could feel the change in him, a subtle shift in the way he looked at you, in the way he spoke.

He greeted you with a kiss, then immediately noticed your outfit. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think? You’re showing a lot of skin.” His hand brushed against the hem of your blouse, his fingers lingering a moment too long.

You froze, his tone unnerving. “Peter, it’s just a shirt.”

He smiled, though the warmth in his eyes was gone. “Just saying… You’ve got to be careful, sweetheart. Don’t want to give the wrong impression.”

A tightness twisted in your chest, but you dismissed it. He was probably just being protective—nothing more.

But the comments kept coming, slowly, methodically.

“How much are you spending on clothes lately?”

“You know, you could dress a little more modestly. It’d make me feel better.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of discomfort settle deeper inside you. It was as if Peter had become… possessive. And it wasn’t just about the way you dressed. It was in his eyes, in the way he watched you. He wasn’t just looking at you—he was assessing, judging, as though there was something to be controlled.

You began to second-guess yourself. You’d always dressed how you felt—casual, confident. But now, every outfit you picked out felt like it needed to pass some unseen test.

One evening, you were getting ready for work when Peter came into the bedroom. His gaze immediately went to the dress you were pulling on—one you hadn’t worn in a while.

“Don’t think you should wear that,” he said, his voice calm, but there was a hardness behind it that made your heart skip a beat.

You blinked at him, confused. “What’s wrong with it?”

Peter didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a slow step toward you, his hand brushing across the fabric of the dress. “It’s a little too… revealing. Don’t you think?”

You frowned, an uncomfortable knot tightening in your stomach. “Peter, I like this dress. I’ve worn it before—”

“I don’t care what you’ve worn before,” he interrupted, his tone more stern now. His hand gripped your arm a little too tightly, his eyes locked onto yours. “You’re my wife. You should be dressing for me, not for anyone else.”

His words hit you like a slap. You were speechless, caught between a cold rage and confusion. Was he serious? Was he… jealous?

He stepped back, his grip loosening, his expression softening. “Sorry, baby. I just want to make sure no one’s looking at you the wrong way.”

You nodded, though the sting of his words lingered. “It’s fine,” you said, swallowing down the knot in your throat.

But it wasn’t fine.

The days bled into one another, and Peter’s behavior didn’t let up. His little comments about your clothes turned into discussions about your job. His “suggestions” became demands.

One evening, after another long day at work, Peter was waiting for you when you got home. He greeted you with a quick kiss, but you could see the tension in his posture.

“I was thinking,” he started, his voice quieter than usual. “Maybe it’s time for you to start staying home more.”

You froze, dropping your bag. “Peter, we’ve talked about this.”

His jaw tightened, and he stepped closer. “I don’t want you driving for an hour every day, sweetheart. You’re too important to me. I want to take care of you. Let me.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. “I like my job, Pete. I told you that.”

His eyes darkened, just for a moment, before his smile returned. “I know, but you don’t need to work. Not anymore. I make enough for both of us. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

You hesitated. You didn’t want to fight with him—not tonight, not when you were so exhausted. But his words hit too close to home. You felt suffocated by his insistence.

“I’m not quitting, Peter,” you said firmly, looking him in the eyes. “I need my job. It’s important to me.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t break eye contact. Instead, his lips curled into a small, satisfied smile. “You’ll come around, sweetheart.”

And that smile, that look in his eyes, told you more than anything else could. Peter wasn’t just trying to protect you. He was trying to control you.

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

hiii . I saw ur requests are open and if u still do fics can u do ac Valhalla hytham x reader? Reader is an artist and hytham enjoys his time with them , also their drawings, maybe he goes through the papers she drew on and sees himself? And he thanks the reader with a kiss.:3

U can change anything u don’t like in this request i just want a fic about my boy hytham .😭😭

Canvas of Secrets

Pairing: Hytham x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: if you count that i love writing yearning and falling in love with Hytham instead of actually having a relationship with him lol THE YEARNING GUYS HE'S A YEARNINER MATERIAL!!!

Note: I feel like I need to get back into the writing mood, writing vibe because its still off for me??? Lemme know I tried my best with my lil fried brain :(

The mid-morning sun bathed Ravensthorpe in a soft, welcoming light, casting long shadows as villagers busied themselves with their daily tasks. The rhythmic clang of blacksmith's hammers and the lively chatter of merchants created a symphony of everyday life. Amid this bustling activity, Hytham moved with a sense of purpose, his mind focused on his duties as a Hidden One. 

Based on the documents Eivor found, another possible target appeared on the horizon, although he still had to do some research to make sure the information was true.

However, that day somehow work eluded the man as he passed by the edge of the settlement, where a small group of children had gathered around a figure seated on a low stool. Curious, he approached, drawn by the sounds of laughter and the sight of animated faces. Sharp laughter rang out in the air, but not with the usual gaiety of children- instead, he heard a soft, restrained laugh.

As he drew closer, he saw you surrounded by the little ones, gleaming eyes watching you, your hands deftly sketching on a large sheet of parchment. The children watched in awe as you brought a scene to life before their eyes, pencil strokes fluid and confident. You were capturing the essence of a lively market, complete with bustling stalls and cheerful passers-by.

Hytham paused, intrigued not only by your talent but also by the way you engaged the children, patiently answering all their questions, letting them try out anything and everything that piqued interest in their little heart from your work.. You glanced up, sensing his presence, offering him a warm smile.

"Ah, Hytham! Come, join us," you called out, your voice light and inviting. "We're just sketching the market today."

He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. "I didn't mean to intrude. I was just passing by as I heard your little gathering having a good time." He smiled warmly at you.

You waved off his concern with a flick of your hand. "You're not intruding at all. Here, take a look." You held up the drawing, and Hytham marveled at the intricate details and the lively energy that seemed to emanate from the paper.

"You're incredibly talented," he remarked, genuine admiration in his voice.

You chuckled softly. "Thank you. Drawing has always been my way of capturing the world. It helps me see things more clearly, appreciate the beauty in everyday moments."

Hytham nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I can see that. Your drawings have a way of bringing things to life." Hytham chuckled, his eyes flickering between the drawing and her face, admiring the details and the skill that went into it

A child tugged at your sleeve, drawing your attention back to the group. "Can we draw the animals next?" the child asked eagerly.

"Of course!" you replied, ruffling the child's hair affectionately. "Let's find a good spot near the stables."

As the children gathered their papers and pencils, you turned to Hytham once more. "You're welcome to join us, Hytham."

He nodded in response, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips at her invitation, a rare sight that made your heart skip a beat. He then glanced over at the children and thought for a moment before replying.

Very well. I'll join you. He agreed quietly.

Hytham followed her lead as she guided the children over to a spot near the stables where there was enough room for all of them. As they settled down and everyone began drawing the animals around them, Hytham took a moment to observe the scene before him. He chuckled softly at the children's excited chatter and laughter, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. The day passed in a blur of laughter, sketches, and shared stories. Hytham found himself returning to your side time and time again, drawn by your infectious enthusiasm and the sense of peace that seemed to radiate from you. He watched as you guided the children's hands, teaching them to see the world through the eyes of an artist.

As the sun began to set and the children dispersed, you and Hytham found yourselves alone by the stables. Whipping your hands on your apron you joined him at the end of the stalls. Hytham leaned back against the wall of the stable idly, his eyes fixated on the setting sun. He chuckled softly, feeling a sense of peace and contentment in the moment. Once the children had left and it was just the two of you left, he turned his gaze towards you. Yours eyes met and he noticed the warm, knowing look in your eyes. You held his gaze for a moment before speaking quietly in a calm voice, breaking the silence between the two of you.

"Thank you for spending the day with us, Hytham. It was nice to have you here."

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. " It was my pleasure to spend the day with you and the children. They're a playful and curious bunch, it was refreshing to be around such innocence. I enjoyed it more than I expected. You have a way of making even the simplest moments feel extraordinary."

You blushed at the compliment, your heart fluttering. "I'm glad you think so. Sometimes, it's the little things that matter most."

He glanced at the drawings scattered around, his gaze lingering on a particularly detailed sketch of a horse. "You have a talent for this, you know. These drawings. They're beautiful."

Your blush deepened, and you looked away, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Thank you, Hytham. That means a lot."

Hytham noticed the way her blush deepened and how she looked away shyly, his smile softening at the sight of her shyness. He chuckled softly and pushed off the wall of the stable, taking a few steps closer to her.

“It's the truth.” He stated softly, his gaze fixed on her with a warm, genuine look in his eyes as he spoke. “You have a gift for capturing beauty on paper.”

 "This has always brought the greatest happiness to my life." You replied, crossing your arms in front of your chest, walking up to the wall and joining him to admire the colors of the setting sun. "The days pass quickly, and we often forget the things that bring us happiness as time goes on. There are memories I don't want to forget. So I learned how to preserve them.”

“And that gift will last a lifetime.” He replied softly, his eyes fixed on the gorgeous hues of orange and red as the sun descended below the horizon.”Memories are important. They make us who we are, after all.” 

"They do," you murmured softly, a smile playing on your lips. "Memories shape us in ways we sometimes don't realize until much later."

Hytham nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still fixed on the horizon where the sun had disappeared. "I never used to think much about memories," he admitted quietly. "My life as a Hidden One demanded focus on the present and the future. But being here with you, experiencing these moments... I realize how much they matter."

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his. "I'm glad you feel that way, Hytham. It's important to cherish the moments that make us feel alive."

Hytham's gaze flickered towards her at the feeling of her fingers brushing against his. A touch that sent a small shiver up his spine. He looked back at her with a softened gaze and a small, warm smile.

“And moments like this?” He gestured with his head to the setting sun and then to their surroundings in the stables, his smile growing slightly. “Are they moments that will stay with you in memory?”

You considered his question, taking in the peaceful scene around you—the gentle rustling of the leaves, the faint scent of hay, and the quiet companionship between you both. The beauty of the moment seemed to intensify with his presence beside you.

"Yes," you replied softly, meeting his gaze. "When shared with someone special, they become the heartbeats of our memories. They're the ones we carry with us, even as time passes."

Hytham's eyes held a gentle intensity as he listened, a small smile playing on his lips. He seemed to absorb your words, savoring the tranquility of the moment, the connection between you both.

He leaned closer, his breath mingling with yours in the cool evening air. "And I want to make more memories like this—with you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, overwhelmed by the sincerity and depth of his feelings. You reached out, cupping his cheek gently in your hand. "I want that too, Hytham," you replied softly, as if afraid this moment  will disappear if spoken out loud. 

He closed his eyes briefly, leaning into your touch. "Then let's cherish this one," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss that spoke of promises yet to be made, and a future waiting to unfold..

Hytham leaned into the touch of your hand on his cheek, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he reveled in the sensation of your touch and words. He felt a wave of emotions swelling within him—a mixture of gratitude, hope, and a sense of belonging he had long suppressed, and he couldn't deny the longing that stirred in his heart at the thought.

As he opened his eyes and looked at you, a soft, vulnerable look in his eyes, he took in your beauty under the golden light...

You reached up, gently threading your fingers through his hair, cherishing the softness of his dark locks beneath your touch.

Hytham's heart skipped a beat at the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He let out a low, almost inaudible sigh, closing his eyes momentarily as he enjoyed the sensation of your touch. It was a simple gesture, but it felt intimate and tender, a connection that seemed to deepen with every passing moment.

He swallowed, his words barely above a whisper as he spoke, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability and tenderness."I've long kept my heart guarded, hidden beneath the weight of duty and the shadows of my past," Hytham murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes remained closed, savoring the intimacy of your touch, the way your fingers threaded through his hair with such gentleness.

"But with you," he continued softly, opening his eyes to meet yours, "it feels as though the walls I've built around myself are slowly crumbling. Your presence... your touch... they awaken something within me that I thought I had lost."

His admission hung in the air, vulnerable yet filled with an honesty that spoke of deeper emotions. The golden light of the setting sun cast a warm glow over both of you, lending an almost ethereal quality to the moment.

You felt your heart swell with tenderness at his words, understanding the weight they carried. Gently, you let your hand caress his cheek, your touch conveying comfort and acceptance. "Hytham," you whispered, your voice soft with emotion, "you don't have to carry that weight alone anymore. I'm here, and I want to share whatever burdens you carry."

Hytham's gaze softened at your words, and he reached up, gently resting his hand over yours as it gently caressed his cheek.

"Thank you," he murmured sincerely, his voice filled with gratitude. "For seeing beyond the surface, for... for accepting me."

You nodded, a small smile touching your lips as you met his gaze with unwavering compassion. "You've shown me glimpses of who you are beneath the armor, Hytham," you replied softly. "And what I see... it's someone deserving of love and happiness."

The evening breeze stirred around you, carrying with it the quiet intensity of the moment. You stood together, bathed in the fading light of the sun, united in a bond that grew deeper with each shared revelation and tender touch.

When the world around you settled into dusk, you knew that this moment marked a new chapter—a chapter where walls crumbled, hearts opened, and the promise of a future filled with understanding and love blossomed under the gentle caress of an evening's embrace.

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags - Part 5: Everybody Wants To Rule the World

📜I'm so sorry for being AWOL. Sitting for two days at a conference for strategic planning for the first time in 3-4 years is extremely exhausting. I swear, if someone utters those words any time in the next few months, I will lose it. Mental burnout is the culprit for the late delay, so I made this one slightly longer because of that. Hopefully, you enjoy this part!

Beware the warnings!

❗️18+, strong language, angst, talk about a death of a parent/sibling, talk about abusive family members/partner, talk of an abusive relationship, godmother reader/original female character, and sexual themes.

# 6k+ words

Part 4 | Masterlist | Part 6

“What do you want to eat on our hike, Bug?” you shouted down the hallway from your bedroom door. 

You were attempting to multitask, coming up with ideas for lunch for your hike with Sadie while ripping through your closet for something to wear. Finding something you wouldn’t overheat in tomorrow was proving to be a challenge. 

Her voice echoed from somewhere in the house. “Ham and Cheddar, please!” 

“You don’t want to vary it up?”

For ages, Sadie had always asked for Ham and Cheddar sandwiches on hikes. No matter how often you offered to get her something else, she'd never change her mind. It didn’t surprise you went she offendedly called back, “No way, nothing beats ham!” 

Then she begged, “Can we get sour keys, too? Please?” 

You shook your head, “Only if you promise to eat an apple on the way there!” 

You thought you heard a grumble before she finally called out, “Fine.”

Chuckling to yourself, you went back to pulling out hangers and glancing through your sweaters. Settling on a brown button-up, your mind shifted towards what Sadie could wear as you put everything you had lazily thrown on your bed back in your closet. You cursed when a cardigan came off its hanger, falling to the bottom of your closet and wedging itself between miscellaneous boxes and running shoes. Huffing out a breath, you bent down to pick it up, pulling at the red material to find the tag at the back. Then you saw it out of the corner of your eye. 

The shoebox. 

It was the one thing you could never put in the storage locker with the rest of her things but could never bring yourself to open.

The box was calling out to you, sticking out amongst every single thing littering the bottom of your closet. You were unable to move, your eyes tracing the red tape covering its edges, its mere presence fixing you to the floor.

You knew what it contained, but you could never bring yourself to open it. Even as your hand flexed forward, fingers unconsciously stretched out, causing your cardigan to fall again to the floor. 

No, you couldn’t open it. Not yet. 

“Come on, we need to pick up the basket from Aunt Penny’s!” Sadie’s voice echoed down your hallway. 

You slammed your closet door without a second thought. 

___

It wasn’t unusual to see the Daggers at Penny’s house.  Pete often called on them to help with random tasks, whether it be repairs to her house, gardening, or even assisting in decorating. As soon as you parked, Sadie noticed Rooster’s Bronco in the driveway, shooting out of her seat and sprinting inside Penny’s open front door like she hadn't seen any of them in years.

You caught the tail end of Sadie's shout for Penny as you walked through the door, Penny's reply of 'In here' from her kitchen causing Sadie to backtrack out of her family room and down the hall.

You followed her, seeing Penny spin from her spot in the kitchen and affectionately call out, “Sadie Bug!” as Sadie wrapped her arms around her waist. Penny pressed a kiss to the top of her hair, the sight warming your heart.

A hammer thumped somewhere from outside in her backyard caught your attention. Peering out her back window, Phoenix was nailing a wooden beam into the floor of Penny’s back deck, Mav helping to hold them in place. You spied Bob and Coyote working on the garden beds next to it. Then your eyes caught Jake sitting on a bench, sanding down a piece of wood from the pile next to him.

“What are they doing?” you asked her.

“The railing on my deck collapsed a few months ago with the storm. Pete asked if they could help. Made it some team-building thing,” Penny shrugged.

Give it to that man to turn anything into a team-building exercise, you thought. Sadie let Penny go, eager to go look out the back window.

Spying the picnic basket on the table, you walked over to open the top, only to find a bag of sour keys tucked safely inside. You shot Penny an amused look, who simply shrugged and replied, “They’re her favourite.” 

“Did you kick anyone else out yesterday?” you joked. “Any angry customers I have to watch out for?” 

“I didn’t have the manpower. Coyote and Jake didn’t stick around for long after you left. I think Jake got lucky with that girl in the blue dress.” 

So Jake picked up where he had left off and spent the night with that girl from the bar. Having Penny confirm your suspicions made you feel uneasy. You really didn’t have the right to feel upset about it. Who Jake decided to spend his nights with was his business. You knew his reputation the moment you met him. What did you say to him? He was a wham, bam, thank you, mam? 

Clearly, whatever happened with the dart at the Hard Deck was a one-off.

Penny’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “You want to stay for lunch? I have enough food to feed the rest of Top Gun.” 

Nodding, you picked up a few of the plates sitting next to the basket and brought them outside, Penny and Sadie following with napkins and utensils. You were about to ask what else she needed help with before you spied Rooster coming around the side of the house, a skinny piece of wood slung over his shoulder. 

“Can you watch Sadie for a second?”  you asked, never taking your eyes off him. “I got a bone to pick with Rooster.” 

Penny’s eyes widened, looking down to Sadie. It was going to get ugly. There was no question.

“Come on,” She urged Sadie, wiggling her fingers as she reached out for her hand. “I’ve got sandwiches I need help making and could use a partner in crime.”

“You mean you don’t want me seeing my Aunt rat out my uncle for something.”

“That too.”

Jake was in the middle of sanding down a piece of wood when he heard your voice crack like a whip across Penny’s deck.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw!” 

Rooster turned immediately, looking up to see you standing on Penny’s deck, hands on your hips, and an angry scowl etched across your face. 

“Oh shit,” Bradley grimaced, the piece of wood dropping to the ground. The rest of the Daggers snickered and whistled in response as you loudly stomped down the steps.

Jake stood up and crossed his arms, a smug smile on his face as he watched Rooster panic. Bradley swivelled on his heel, looking for an escape route. Finding it in the path Penny had carved out to the beach, he booked it. He didn’t anticipate Jake blocking his path, even as he tried to go around him. Any way Rooster went, Jake followed, stopping him from leaving.

There was no way Rooster was going to escape whatever you had planned for him.  

Hey,” you angrily called out. “I have a bone to pick with you!” 

Rooster pleadingly looked to Jake, only for him to shake his head, glancing between you and Rooster.   

“Don’t look at me,” Jake replied, still smug. “This is just getting good.”

“Asshole,” Rooster muttered, bowing his head in acceptance. Grabbing Bradley by his shoulders, Jake turned him, placing a hand between his shoulders to roughly push him out to greet you. 

Jake attempted to shoot you a warm smile as you made your way over to the pair, but for the brief second you met his eye, you seemed set on ignoring him, even with Rooster at the end of your rath.

“Courtney Slack, are you out of your freaking mind?” you yelled, smacking Rooster upside the head, who winced. “Her daughter bullied the hell out of Sadie. How could you?!” 

Rooster stepped to the side, holding his hands out as he started walking backwards. “Liz, she came on to me. I didn’t know what else to do.” 

“Turn on your heel!  Walk away! Find Lyssa, I don’t know! But flirt with her?” you shouted. 

Bradley figured staying silent was the best, risking him saying anything else that would make you upset enough that you’d threaten to revoke his Sadie privileges, not that you would. 

“What was the rule?” you pointed your finger into his chest, “The one rule I gave for you to pick up Sadie from school.”

Bradley stretched his arm up, scratching the back of his head as harshly exhaled, “Don’t flirt with Courtney Slack.” 

“Don’t flirt with Courtney Slack!” you repeated back, throwing your hands up. 

“Even I know that Rooster,” Bob pipped up from his spot next to Penny’s flower beds. 

“Not helping Bob!” He called over his shoulder.  

“How could you, Rooster?!” 

“Yeah,” Jake spoke from behind him. “How could you, Rooster?” “Stay out of this Hangman. This doesn’t concern you.” 

“Uncle Roo!”

Sadie’s voice, not that you would admit, was a welcome relief. The minute Sadie said his name, everyone watched as she launched herself off the deck, sprinting toward Bradley with her arms outstretched. Bradley stepped away from you to reach for her, picking her up and spinning her in a circle as she laughed.

“Aunt Penny said I needed to come to save you,” she said, hugging his leg once he put her down. Bradley pressed a hand to his heart, dramatically leaning back as he shouted, “I’ve been saved!” 

Pressing your head into your hand, you let out a loud groan. The rest of the Daggers laughed, returning to whatever they had been doing before you showed up.

Sadie smiled at your reaction, knowing Rooster would get off easy for whatever he was in trouble with now she was present. But then her eyes landed on Jake, who was smiling down at her fondly.

"Hangman!" She called out excitedly, much to the displeasure of Bradley, as she let go of his leg to stand in front of Jake.

"Hey, Bug! How's the math homework?"

"My tutor is still an idiot," she grinned up at him. "Only this time, I proved it! I corrected him!"

“Alright!” He exclaimed, giving her a high five. You couldn't deny he was good with her.

"Whatcha doing here?" he asked her.

"Picking up a picnic basket. We're going on a hike tomorrow."

"A hike. That sounds like fun."

"Why don't you come with us?"

Oh shit, there she goes again.

You could tell Rooster was gobsmacked. Nobody was invited on your hikes, not even himself or Natasha. Hearing Sadie’s invitation was just another indication that you ignored every warning the squad had given you. Sadie was just as willing to play along with you.

Sadie looked up at her uncle, “Are you having trouble crowing, Uncle Roo?” 

“Sadie!” 

“What? He looks as red as a Rooster!”

The last thing you needed was Jake Seresin interrupting what would have been a peaceful day, thinking of absolutely nothing. Certainly not the blonde pilot standing before you. 

“I’m sure Jake’s busy, Bug,"  you offered for Jake, who was looking between you and Sadie somewhat judgingly.

“Why? He has no friends.” 

You gawked at her. Her audacity never failed to surprise you. Shooting Sadie a look, you urged her to join you. She shuffled her way over, arms crossed and her face stern. 

“Really?” you asked her. 

You weren’t about to tell your ten-year-old niece Jake had plenty of friends to keep him company, especially at night. But she glared at you, placing her hands on her hips in a matter-of-fact way, before sarcastically replying, “Do you honestly think someone like him has real friends?”

“What about the Daggers?” you pressed her. 

“Rooster hates him, Auntie Nat calls him Bagman, and the rest want to take the nearest thing and whack him over the head.”

“He’s friends with Coyote?” 

“Uncle Javy is friends with everyone. That’s not the point.”

"Sadie, you just can't invite people at random to things this late notice."

"Please, Aunt Elizabeth."

Damn.

You could feel your resolve weakening. Rarely did she ever call you by your full name. You didn’t understand Sadie’s obsession with Jake, but when was the first time, besides befriending Will, did she feel this strongly about anyone? She really knew how to pick them.

You sighed, casting your eyes down to a piece of wood resting against Penny's new railing before meeting Jake's eyes.

“Wanna tag along?” you asked reservedly. “I promise I won’t hold it against you if you say no.”

Jake was still glancing between you and Sadie. He didn’t know what he did to make you act so cold towards him. Maybe you didn’t want him intruding on your time with Sadie.

But Sadie’s face was so hopeful, and he still wanted to question you on why you were so upset last night.

The look on Rooster's face alone was enough too.

“Why not? I’m not busy.”

___

You assumed Jake wasn’t serious about joining you on the hike, even after exchanging numbers and him texting his address.

But at breakfast, you were surprised he texted, asking you to let him know when you were on your way. The surprise only lasted so long. The logical part of your mind going it made sense he’d want to know. Your heart, however, wondered who he was shoving out of his bed before you arrived.

With Sadie bundled into your car in her red jacket, you drove to Jake’s apartment, pulling into the roundabout and sending him a text to let him know you were there. Sure enough, a few seconds later, he emerged from the building with a black hiking backpack. Sadie rolled down her window, sticking her head out the window as she shouted out his name and waved.  

Jake hopped in your car, uttering a greeting as he pulled his Ray-Bans off his face, turning to face you holding up a thermos with a smile. Coyote wasn't kidding when he said Jake wasn't a morning person.

“Coffee?” you asked. “Javy said you liked it black.”

Jake made an appreciative sound, reaching out with grabby hands and uttering a thank you as he took the first few sips. So far, so good, you thought as you pulled out of his apartment building and onto the highway.

While Jake loved music, he certainly couldn’t carry a tune to save his life. Sadie tried to hold in her giggles and keep her comments to herself as Jake belted out whatever was playing on the radio. You shook your head as you drove, window rolled down to feel the wind caress your face.

The hiking trail was only an hour and a half away, and after parking, you were eager to stretch your legs. Jake got out first, waiting for you to open your trunk and then unloading your picnic supplies. Of course, he went for the heaviest item, the picnic basket, but you slapped his hand, grabbing it before he could grasp the handle.

"No way, you're the guest," you had told him. He protested but quieted down when you allowed him to carry the blanket.

The three of you started on the trail, Sadie running ahead of you to peer up into trees and looking at the flower bushes while holding onto her camera.

“What’s with the polaroid camera?” Jake asked, watching as Sadie crouched down next to a bush, angling her camera at what you thought was a caterpillar.

“She loves bugs.” You shrugged as you walked. “She has this book where she puts all her polaroids and tries to identify them.”

"Do I sense somebody is a nerd?"

“So what? Everyone is obsessed with something."

"You're totally a nerd."

" There's no shame in being passionate about something, Jake," you sighed, swapping the basket into your other hand. "I could say the same about you and flying. You practically make it your personality."

Jake stopped in his tracks. "You did not just call me a nerd?!"

You laughed. "It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Hangman!”

Not bothering to look back to see if he was following you, you continued forward, watching Sadie pull back bushes and grab low-hanging branches as she searched for her next photograph. Then she stopped in the middle of the path, audibly sighing as she stared up a tree. 

“Bug?” You questioned. 

“There’s a cool butterfly I haven’t seen before on that branch.” She pouted. “And I’m too short.”

You were about to ask if she wanted you to take the photo before Jake suddenly surpassed you, stepping up next to her while trying to follow her line of sight. He lowered himself to the ground beside Sadie, resting on his heels.

“Where is it?” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. Sadie pointed with her finger. Sure enough, a blue butterfly was sitting on a leaf just out of reach of her and her camera.

“Do you trust me?” He asked her. She peered up at him with questionable eyes before nodding. As Jake stood, he hooked his hands under her armpits, hoisting her up and over his head. Sadie giggled as she flew in the air, coming to rest on his shoulders.

You could feel your heart jump out of your chest, watching Jake carefully step around stuck-out tree roots and sharp rocks, navigating himself closer to the butterfly so Sadie could reach up and take a photograph. When she grabbed the photo from her camera, she held it out for Jake, who took it to shake.

Sadie stayed on Jake’s shoulders for the rest of the morning. You hung back, watching the two interact. Sadie would point out bugs, and Jake would ask her questions about each and every one. Or she’d ask him about his accent, and he’d tell her about the ranch he grew up at. Coming to the spot you wanted to set up lunch, a grassy spot on a hill overlooking the valley, Jake and Sadie helped you set up the food. Jake unrolled the blanket dramatically, and Sadie dug around in the basket before triumphally holding the bag of Sour Keys in the air.

"Oh, give me those," Jake called out, making a show of faking an attempt at stealing them out of her hand. Sadie squealed, throwing her hand back and shouting. "No way!"

While you laughed at the two of them, you were suddenly struck with the idea there was a chance this may be the last time you could take Sadie on a hike. Even as the three of you ate, your mind raced with the worry something as small as an error in the paperwork for Sadie's guardianship could threaten to take away more moments like these.

When Sadie wiped her hands on the blanket after finishing her sandwich, scrambled to grab her camera and stood up, proclaiming she was going off to search for bugs, and you warned her not to get too close to the edge of the shoreline below, you fought to keep the worry from your voice.

She saluted you before turning on her heel, giggling while racing down the path to a grassy spot. You didn't laugh like you normally would.

All of this didn't go unnoticed by Jake, who finally decided he needed to let you know he knew, just by how much you were forcing yourself to smile.

“Liz, what’s going on?”

He caught the tiny downward twitch of your mouth as you faced him. He was sure you didn’t even know you were consciously doing it, even as you managed to ask, “What do you mean?”

“Coyote spoke with Penny. I know about the review.”

You swallowed hard, dropping your head.

“Tell me.” He encouraged.  

“I’m not sure what it means. It sounds like it’s just reviewing the paperwork. But it’s not an internal review. Somebody requested it on the outside, and they cannot tell me who.”

“Do you have any idea? Any at all?” 

“No,” you started to say, pressing your forehead to the back of your knee. “There’s nobody around to care about something like that.” 

“What about Sadie’s father?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. Tyler was the one person you refused to speak about when you could. He was the person who shall not be named. The person who still, to this day, haunted your dreams with the threat he could still take Sadie away from you. The Daggers knew enough, but not the full story. They just assumed Sadie’s birth father was an absent asshole.

Sensing your hesitancy, Jake quickly doubled back.  “You don’t have to..”

“No, um, it’s okay,” you interrupted him, lifting your head and taking a deep breath. The words still felt difficult despite having told the full story once before, only to Penny. It was one that always left you more exposed to the world than you felt comfortable, even knowing you had nothing to be ashamed about.

But Jake? Telling him about that period in your life, you didn't know if you were about to self-sabotage what little friendship you built with him or let him know exactly what he was getting himself into.

 “Ah, Ridley got pregnant in her twenties. She had been seeing this guy while in nursing school. Same school as her and all that. There on some sports scholarship.”  You couldn’t bring yourself to look Jake in the eye as you recited the story. “I never approved of him, but she was my sister. She was so stuck in her ways. Then, one day, she came home with bruises, and I knew the fucker hurt her.”

The image of Ridley clutching her side in the front hallway of the house you both had rented close to her school came to mind, finding yourself stroking your wrist with your fingertips. She had come home late one night with a bruise around her wrist, eyes dry and rimmed red, as she struggled to even utter a single word to you without bursting into tears.

“A friend and I got her out of the relationship pretty quickly after that, but then she discovered she was pregnant," you sniffed. “I was there the night he found out, the asshole. Called her a bitch for tying him down and slammed the front door without another word. We never saw him since.. and she was terrified to do it on her own, but god, she wanted Sadie so badly.” 

Jake’s voice was solemn as he asked, “What about your parents?”

You played with the hem on the sleeve of your jacket. “We left home when our Mum died. My father… Well, it’s not a pleasant story.” 

Jake thought back to the night in your kitchen when he hesitated to tell you the story behind his call sign. Then your words echoed in his head.

“I’m not here to judge. Truly.”

He caught one side of your mouth turning upwards, eyes fixing on Sadie below. You finally managed to say, “Well, to state it plainly, he was… is a narcissist.”

There was no stopping you now. Just like the time you told Penny, once you started, the relief in telling another person was too great to ignore.

“We were never perfect enough, didn’t try hard enough. Any chance he got, whether it be a birthday party or a dinner or a vacation, he’d try to ruin it. Mom wasted away, thinking it was her fault when he was just gaslighting the three of us every chance he got."

You shook your head hard at your words.

“Last we managed to find out, he was back in his hometown. Shacking up with one of the women he cheated on her with.”

You smiled down at Sadie, watching her pull back a few stones in some of the wetter areas to see underneath.

“They don’t know Sadie exists,” your voice broke, the strength to hold back your tears becoming too much. “We swore Sadie would never have to face that trauma, face them, not as long as either of us could prevent it.”  

Jake felt you startle when he touched your back, slowly rubbing up and down to soothe your tears. It silenced you, the warm and unexpected comfort nearly making you crumble harder.

Coyote’s words to Jake in the car suddenly made sense, though he wouldn’t necessarily use the word ‘fragile’ to describe you.

You were powerful, not because you feared what was to come, but because you went about things so strongly and kindly, despite having gone through so much. As much as he envied you at that moment, he knew he’d do whatever he could to help you keep your promise no harm would come to Sadie.

“Sorry,” you laughed sadly, reaching up to wipe at your face. “This probably isn’t how you imagined your Sunday turning out.” 

Where you thought Jake would have told you to suck it up, that it was in the past or you needed to let it go, he didn’t. Instead, he continued to rub your back, letting you compose yourself before quietly uttering, “I’m glad you told me.”

Needing to clear the knot in your throat at his reply, you reached for your water absent-mindedly. The minute you grasped the bottle, you felt something cool and scaly graze your hand. 

A scream clawed through your chest as you shot your hand back, scrambling backwards to escape, unexpectedly crashing into the side of Jake’s chest in a panic. Jake fell with a grunt, his arm that was already stretched out, pulling you to the ground with him in reflex. It made it so much worse, his arms holding you in place, trapping you in the path of one of your worst fears.

Jake rolled the two of you off the blanket, trapping you underneath him as he called out your name. It did nothing to calm your horror, squirming in his hold as you managed to gasp out, “Sn..snake! There’s a snake.” 

Jake turned his head, spying on the cause of your fear, uncoiling itself from your water bottle. It looked like a common garden snake, interested in the condensation from your bottle. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t encountered in the hay bales growing up on the ranch. Sure in his decision to reach out and pick up the hissing creature just below its head, he tossed it far enough in the opposite direction it wouldn’t be a bother again. 

Covering your face with your hands, your chest racked with sobs as you fought against your flight response. Eyes slammed shut, you thrashed back and forth against the ground. Even as Jake tried to calm you down, your mind still perceived the danger was still there, your emotions from before making it all that much worse.

“Liz, it’s gone,” he gently pulled your hands away from your face, placing them on either side of your head, holding them down into the grass. You whimpered, feeling exposed.

“Easy, Darlin,” Jake drawled.  “I got you.” 

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Jake’s hand on your cheek, his thumb gently wiping at the tears pooling under your eyes. You froze, eyes opening at his touch, greeted by the sight of him staring down at you with concern.  

“Is it gone?” you asked meekly. Holding your face, his thumb gently tracing your cheekbone, Jake softly replied, “It’s gone.”

Nodding once, you blew out a breath, finally allowing yourself to relax somewhat. Jake still held the side of your face in the palm of his hand, and you found yourself leaning slightly into it.

You watched as he grinned down at you. His dimples were infectious as the heat rushed to your checks in embarrassment. Then he jolted, once, and then twice.

Jake was restraining himself not to laugh, shoulders shaking and corners of his mouth turning upwards. You bit your bottom lip to stop your smile, failing miserably to control your face as Jake finally allowed himself to laugh.

The whole thing was ridiculous. The thought of you freaking out over a silly snake and Jake having witnessed your freak-out was humiliating enough. But you knew he wasn’t laughing at you. He was laughing with you, your giggles matching his own as the pair of you lost it.

But as soon as the laughter died down, Jake was more than an inch and a half away from your mouth. His eyes were flickering over your face, searching, until they softly settled on your lips.

You could feel his breath warming your face, his body resting heavily against yours. Every time you took a breath to calm your remaining nerves, you could feel his chest, hard and sculpted, grazing against your breasts every time you heaved.

This thing happening between the two of you had no label. You knew nothing about him beyond what he told you and what Nat and Rooster had claimed.

Could you even classify Jake as a friend? Not since you’ve spent a better part of yesterday morning shopping for groceries listing all the reasons why Jake was bad news. Why he was unavailable. Why is he bad for you. Why he might have slept with the bartenders before you.

But then, Jake was leaning down, eyelids heavy the closer he got to you, hand moving from your cheek to cradle the back of your neck.  And you, tilting your chin up slowly, anticipating the moment his lips might finally meet yours. No hard deck bell, no Daggers, no voices in your head.

Jake was going to kiss you. And you weren’t going to stop him.

“Aunt Liz!” 

Wide-eyed, you quickly unrolled yourself out from under Jake, who pushed himself off you after hearing Sadie’s voice. You sat up just in time to see her sprinting up the hill, scared and stopping in her tracks to find the both of you. She picked herself back up into a run, arms stretching out the closer she got to you.

Collapsing into your lap, she threw her face into your shoulder. Her arms wrapped themselves around your body as she shook. You tried to shush her, running your hand up and down her back as she worked through her blubbering mess of ‘are you okay’ and ‘what happened.’ 

“It’s okay, Bug.” You spoke, holding her tight. 

“I heard you scream!” She gasped, shaking like a leaf and struggling to breathe. 

“We’re okay. It was just a snake,” you pulled back to place your hands on her cheeks, smiling softly at her. She scanned your face to find any indication that you were hurt or something was wrong. 

“A snake?” She sniffed, using her sleeve to wipe at her face.  “Is it gone?”

“Yes,” you nodded, turning to Jake. “I have my knight in shining armour to thank for that.” 

Sadie followed your glaze, scrambling out of your hold to throw her arms around Jake’s neck. “Thank you for protecting my aunt,” she said as she tugged him closer.

Jake’s face was a mess of emotions. Shock? Acceptance? Worry? You weren’t sure. But nothing could beat the ache in your heart when his arms slowly came up to return her hug lightly, his head dropping to her shoulder as he faintly managed to say, “Of course, Bug.”

___

On your journey back to the car, Jake’s hand occasionally brushed against yours as you walked side by side in silence.

That was until Sadie shouted out, “Wait!” as you walked past an overlook to the mountains. She shoved her polaroid at you before standing next to one of the safer flatter rocks overlooking the valley, slowly climbing up to sit on it. She hugged her knees, turned her head to view the scenery, then shouted, “Take my picture!” 

You shook your head, laughing while placing the basket on the ground. Jake’s face lit up in confusion as he stared at her sitting on the rock. 

“Pride & Prejudice.” 

“What?” he asked, turning to look at you as you started to position yourself behind Sadie.

“Ridley’s favourite movie. Ever since Sadie saw it, she’s been obsessed with the shots of Kierra Knightly standing on the cliffs.”

You lifted the camera up to your face before snapping the photo, pulling it away to grab the picture to shake it. Sadie climbed down, reaching for the printout with a beaming grin, only to pocket it with the others in her jacket and eagerly take off back to the trail.

Shaking your head, you reached down to grab the basket but found nothing as you grasped at air. Jake had beaten you to it, the basket now firmly being held in his hand. He shrugged as you glared at him.

Jake helped you pack the car back up when the three of you finally found your way back, getting Sadie's door and shutting it carefully behind her. He did the same with you, and as you climbed back into your car, suddenly, you realized you didn't want the day to end just yet.

“Hey,” you said softly, getting his attention once he had settled into his seat. “You have time for one more stop?”

___

Jake had no idea where you were taking him when you pulled off the main road and up a curvy hill into a densely wooded area, the road rough like it hadn’t been paved in years. He had to trust you knew where you were going, but it wasn’t until he reached for the ‘holy shit’ bar above the passenger side window he decided he wanted to be put out of his misery. 

“Where are you taking me?” 

You smirked gleefully, refusing to spoil the surprise. “I’m not going to murder you if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

“Liz..” 

“You’ll see.” 

Jake rolled his eyes. But the minute he saw the sign on the side of the road, he suddenly felt humbled. 

Stitches & Murray Thrift Store looked like a misplaced cabin that didn’t belong on the side of some random highway. White paint was peeling off the walls, strung lights had a few missing bulbs, some shrubs were overgrown, and there was a tree so desperately bare it needed to be removed. In lesser words, it should have been dead centre in the middle of some forgotten woods.

Sadie had taken off inside the minute you had given her the all-clear, whereas you took your time walking next to Jake, who held the door open as you reached the entrance, resulting in a bush spreading across your cheeks.

Whatever it looked like on the outside, the inside couldn’t compare, Jake thought. The place shouldn’t have been called a thrift store, with walnut-coloured floors and red paint on the walls, racks of interesting-looking jackets with the price tags still on them and creates of music lining a table. He thought he spied some first additions on the floor-to-ground bookcases spanning the entire wall. Even some Navy memorabilia was encased on the back wall.

He understood why you liked it here.

“So, this is the place.”

He watched as you lowered yourself down next to an old wooden crate of vinyl, pulling back the sleeves gently, your eyes lighting up when you came across certain ones.

“Ridley and I’s accidental discovery," You said absently mindedly as you flipped a case over to read the back. Putting it back, you went to stand up but lost your balance, Jake holding out his hand as you reached for something, if anything, to pull yourself up.

You shrugged almost shamefully once you found your balance, Jake still holding your hand longer than you could have deemed necessary. “They have the best vinyl here.”

“I ain’t complaining, darling,” he said, slowly letting your hand slide from his.

Jake followed closely behind as you wandered around, watching as your hand reached out to glide over the shoulders of brand-new coats on hangers, how you almost climbed a bookcase to look at a higher shelf, how your eyes looked for Sadie every two minutes.

You picked up an older pair of chromatic aviator ray bans, adjusting them on your nose before facing Jake, attempting a cocky grin and pulling your best impression of a Texian accent. 

“Hangman, best there is, don’t let my ego fool you. I’m only here to show you a good time.” 

Jake shook his head, both unimpressed by your antics and slightly amused at your attempt.  “I’m the best, Darlin. Don’t you forget it.” 

“What did you say to me before? You need to put your money where your mouth is?”

Jake smirked, stepping forward, intent on reaching for those sunglasses before a voice interrupted him.

“I’ll be damned, is that Ms. Lizzie Beck?”

Hearing your name being called, Jake watched as you pulled the glasses away, quickly whipping around to greet an older man with a wide smile.

“Hi, Mr. Murray!”

The older man approached you with a toothy grin, holding out his arms as he went to hug you. You went willingly, happy to see him.  

“How are things? How’s Margret?” you asked, returning the hug.

“Keeping me on my toes, that darn witch.”  You pulled back to smile at him, patting his arm before taking a step back.

“We heard about your sister. I’m so sorry, my dear. Such a way to go in a storm like that.”   

Jake saw you grip your forearm at his statement, nails digging into the fabric of your coat, body curling forwards just a bit as you nodded at him.

Sensing your discomfort, Jake quickly stepped up next to you, an arm wrapping itself around your waist as he pulled you into his side from behind. You stiffened but forced yourself to relax when you realized what he was trying to do.

Mr. Murray’s eyes fell on Jake, then back to you. You knew exactly what he thought when he saw Jake’s arm around your waist. Jake was drawing the attention away from Ridley and onto himself.

“Now, who is this handsome fella?”

“Mr. Murray, meet Lieutenant Jake Seresin. He’s a naval aviator stationed at Top Gun. Jake, Mr. Murry owns the shop with his wife.”

Mr. Murray held out his hand, Jake grasping it as the older gentleman solemnly stated, “Thank you for your service, son.”

Sadie was nearby listening to the conversation, spying Jake's tense nod with his arm around your waist as she looked at a panel of jean jacket patches on a stand. She was happy you gave in to her request of Jake joining the two of you, even if it appeared her uncle seemed against it. 

Jake liked you. It was obvious to her the second he saved you from that snake. And she thought you liked him, though yesterday morning proved you’d need a little more convincing than she originally thought.

She just wondered why everyone got sad when someone thanked her aunt and uncles when they mentioned they were in the Navy.

_____

Despite your conflicting feelings, Sadie’s instance of Jake suddenly being involved in things was playing on your mind as you drove home.

Dropping Jake off at home had been a quiet affair, you pulling into the roundabout in front of his building, he getting out to say goodbye at your rolled-down window.

“I had a good time,” He offered.

Stretching your arm across the edge of your open car window and resting your head back on the seat, you softly smiled, replying, “I’m glad. Sadie’s persistent.”

He looked behind your seat, Sadie passed out with her head against the window before resting his hand on your wrist, squeezing it lightly.  “Thank you for telling me. And for letting me come.”

You frowned. Did you really come off as that mean to Jake yesterday morning if he had to thank you for letting him come?

“I know I’m an asshole, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

"Jake.."

He knew what you were going to say by the tone of your voice, yet he interrupted you, shaking his head. "Let me say the right thing for once."

You nodded. Squeezing your arm one last time, Jake retreated to the door of his apartment building, head down, and his bag slung over his shoulder. 

“Hey Jake,” you called out, watching as he turned around, a hopeful look on his face. “I hope you come next Saturday night.” 

He softly smiled. “Where else would I go on a Saturday night?”

The minute you arrived home, Sadie eagerly waited for the moment she could collapse into her bed, using every chance she got to yawn dramatically or drop her head to the kitchen table as if she would fall asleep again. After a quiet dinner, you tucked her in but found yourself pausing at her bedroom door before you decided to call it a night. 

“Hey, Bug?” You asked softly. 

“Yeah,” she sleepily replied, her back facing you. You pressed into the door frame, your voice low as you asked, “Why do you like Jake so much?” 

At first, you thought she didn’t hear you. But then she lifted her blanket and turned to face you, softly calling out, “They left him out.”   

“Who did, Sweetheart?” 

“Auntie Nat and Uncle Roo. I heard them at the campfire while you were washing dishes.” 

You sucked in a sharp breath. She continued, “They don’t want him near me or you. They said he is a bad person. That he will hurt us.”  She pulled the blanket closer to her chest, her voice muffled as she said, “I don’t think he’s a bad person.” 

“I don’t think so either, Bug. I think he’s just a complicated one.” 

“He deserves a chance, right? To know he has people that care. Like how everyone was there for us?” 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, trying to keep your voice from breaking. It wasn’t Sadie speaking to you at that moment. It might have been her voice, but those were your sister’s words. 

“He does, Bug.” 

Sadie snuggled deeper into her pillow at your reply, tugging her blanket under her chin as she yawned. “Thank you for telling me, Bug,” you said quietly. “Goodnight.” 

“Night, Aunt Liz.” 

Closing her bedroom door, you pressed your forehead into the wood. Ridley always believed everyone deserved a chance. It was the reason why she wanted to become a nurse.

It was what she taught you as an older sister. It’s what she clearly taught Sadie as a mother.

Hearing those words come from Sadie, it felt like Ridley was there standing with you.  Helping people was just who she was. Jake was a complicated person, but he did deserve a chance. As conflicted as your heart was about letting him into your life and Sadie’s, you couldn’t refute that.

After finishing your nightly routine, you went to plug in your phone while climbing into bed, noticing a text notification from Jake. Seeing his message, you couldn’t stop the giddiness from building in your chest. 

Attached was a photo of Sadie sitting on the cliffside in her red jacket. He must have taken it while you snapped a photo with the polaroid. Yet, while the photo was the reason behind your smile, it wasn’t responsible for the feeling in your chest. 

No, it was his accompanying message. Even if he looked it up, he wouldn’t have understood. The reference was far too specific for him not to have not seen the movie. So that night, you fell asleep knowing a little bit more about Jake Seresin than you did yesterday. 

The caption? 

Sadie on the top of the world.

For those of you who haven’t seen the film with Kierra Knightly, there is a scene where she is standing on a cliffside and a score called Liz on Top of the World plays. 

Tags: @blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@emorychase @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink

Let me know if you want to be added or if I missed you!

Wickett ;)

[jesterwriting]

hi jester!! i saw you mention you like to write hurt/comfort and fluff alongside the smut on this blog so i'm here to ask for just that <3 could you write something where law and reader (transmasc) reunite after being separated at sabaody due to extenuated circumstances? the yearning, the affection/touch starvation, "cuddling is not enough i need to be in his clothes" type beat of longing, the works ✨

if possible could law have they/them pronouns as well? <:3 ty for your time!! 💖💓

pairing: trafalgar law x reader

contents: fluff, reunions, they/them law, soft law, a lot of yearning, transmasc reader but it's not super obvious except for one mention of chest scars, a vomiting butterflies metaphor is in here because i love when love is so sappy it makes you metaphorically sick, mentions of wanting to switch hearts with law, maybe ooc?? still trying to get ahold of law’s character

word count: 1.3k words

note: i LOVE fluff and i LOVE yearning. unsure if this counts entirely as hurt/comfort, but if you want soft law and sappy reunions, this will certainly fill that void. thank you so much for your request i had so much fun with this, i really hope you enjoy it <33

playlist: exist for love by aurora

It had been too long. Excitement had your hands shaking. To keep them steady, you curled them tight against your chest, though you couldn’t keep your fingers from fidgeting with the divots between your knuckles. Your heart hammered a desperate beat in your chest as your boat approached Sabaody Archipelago, the destination where you would report back to your captain, and partner, after your extended mission away from the Polar Tang.

Neither of you wanted to be apart for so long, but it couldn’t be helped. Your natural abilities made you a perfect candidate, and as always with Law, logic won out over matters of the heart. You couldn’t fault them for it, the plan only made sense with you at the helm. For all your desire to stay, you couldn’t, you both knew that.

The night you left, Law kissed each of your knuckles tenderly, before placing their lips against your forehead, warm, if not slightly chapped. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, alone under the stars — your goodbye to the rest of the crew had happened earlier, far less intimate and far more boisterous, though you didn’t find yourself complaining — before Law pulled away, affection dancing in their eyes. A soft expression reserved only for you.

They ran the calloused pad of their thumb against your cheek one final time. “Stay safe out there, Y/N-ya.”

You shivered slightly, wishing you were back home already, not hunting Law down through the mangroves of Sabaody. Normally, you would have docked at a closer, but as per their instructions, you kept your distance. Anticipation made butterflies sing in your chest, little legs tickling your innermost organs. Imaginary wings fluttered against your sternum. Whether your nausea was caused by anxiety or desperate yearning, you weren’t sure. Either way, you felt as if you were seconds from puking a hoard of winged insects onto the mossy ground. You knew where they would go, flying to the Polar Tang ahead of you to greet your beloved captain with bile coated adoration.

Law was not the most affectionate human. Their love made itself known through small acts of service throughout the day, or quiet moments spent together, simply sharing the same space. That was your favorite. You enjoyed watching their face twitch when they were lost in thought, or engaged in a good book. Sometimes, they would read to you, your head against them as one of their tattooed fingers brushed the hair from your face. You listened with rapt attention, their voice rumbling against your ear.

You missed them. Desperately. Every part of them had made a home under your skin, from their sarcastic quips to even their most infuriating tendencies to isolate themself in times of stress. Law was not without their faults, and neither were you. They accepted you as you were, loved you at your basest form, fingers reverent against the scars on your chest. It made you want to be better, to grow and change. You wanted to be your best self with them.

First and foremost, however, you just wanted to see Law. You were certain their eyes would light up when they saw you, their smirk morphing into something more genuine.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the Polar Tang was within eyesight. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw Law, sitting on the edge of the sub. They were alone, likely having sent the rest of the crew out to explore the Archipelago. You snickered to yourself. Law was never one for public displays of affection, and they must have known that you would refuse to hold yourself back from jumping in their arms. Not now, not this time, not after it had been so long since you felt their arms around you.

You didn’t realize you were running until you felt your breath coming in heavy pants. Law climbed down the ladder to greet you, unable to hide their pleasure through their usual smirk. Their smile was small, though the adoration in it made tears well in your eyes. You threw yourself into Law’s chest, their arms slotting into place around your shoulders as your own fingers clutched the back of his jacket tightly. Inhaling deeply, you realized that most of all, you missed their scent. Spicy and slightly antiseptic.

“You found me,” They said into your hair. You could feel their lips brush against your scalp as they squeezed you closer to them.

Loosening your grip and, tracing small shapes between their shoulder blades, you laughed, “Told you I would.”

Law sighed, slumping slightly into your embrace as if a heavy weight was removed from their shoulders. They wouldn’t admit it, at least not right now, but they were worried about you. There was always the chance you wouldn’t come back home. They had spent many sleepless nights, throwing themself deep into their work, to keep from considering that circumstance for longer than they needed. But, here you were, alive and well, back where you belonged. Close to their chest and in their grasp, never to let you go.

They pulled back to look at you, trace the lines of your face with their fingers. You smiled and leaned into their touch.

“I’m taking you to the infirmary, Y/N-ya. It’s been a while since your last checkup.” Even as they spoke, attempting to be stern, their hands were gentle as they cupped your face. Law tilted your head left and right, examining you with a trained eye.

You missed them so much it was crazy.

A part of you wondered if you could switch your heart with Law’s so you would always have a piece of them inside you. What would it feel like to have their heart beat in your chest? It certainly wouldn’t feel the same as your own. Maybe heavier. They always carry so much weight with them, and, for once, you would like to lessen the burden, if only for a second.

With a grin, you let your head flop against their chest. “I can tell you already I’m not hurt.”

Law rolled their eyes. You may have your face buried in their jacket, but you knew that sigh anywhere. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Even then, they refused to peel themself away from you. You both knew you couldn’t stay like this forever, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to. The butterflies returned as you rocked side to side on your heels. Law inhaled deeply and followed your movements, nose against the top of your head.

“I missed you, Law.”

“I know you did.” They snickered when you pulled back to hit them with a glare. “I missed you too, Y/N-ya, you know that.”

Laughing, you slid your hands to cup the back of their head. Fingertips gentle against the hair under their hat, you pulled them into a kiss. Their lips moved slowly against yours. Savoring you.

It would be a long time before they would allow you to leave again, plans be damned.

[fluideli123]

No thoughts, just the next part of my fic I just can't stop thinking about because I think about Amy and Sonic's friendship so aggressively:

Sonic hated having to attend these gatherings, events that did nothing but suffocate him, like the tie around his throat and the pats on his back in congratulations. The music was too slow, loud, and mellow, grating on his ears and clawing down his back in all the ways that felt like it was shredding his senses. Mouths and bodies moved, and cameras flashed on all sides, photographing and recording this moment repeatedly as microphones were set in front of him, pleading for him to say something new, something meaningful, something they wanted to hear. These things always claimed to be in his honor, for all he's done over the years. But it wasn't for him in any way. If it were, he wouldn't even be here. He'd be at home with his friends, wearing nothing but his bandana and worn-down shoes. He'd be sent letters, cards, videos, and broadcasts about people's experiences with him and what he's done. He'd be in mom-and-pop shops, helping them defeat their competitors. He'd be outside with a bunch of ankle biters, ensuring they had fun and were treated fairly as they played together. Chaos, there would be actual good food he could stuff his mouth with. Music to go to the dance floor with, know the lyrics, and have it mean something. But no, this was for the press, the people who valued their status over actual people, to show off, following some tradition of acknowledgment for members of society. It made him sick to sit through every time. Yet here he was out of obligation. Again. At least he wasn't here alone. Gloved hands take his elbow, stealing him from the sight of an approaching woman in a dazzling dress, losing her in the passing crowd. Sonic can't help but grin, a relieved excitement echoing up and out of his throat with a chuckle as he turns to a beaming Amy. "You always know how to get me out of trouble, huh?" Amy rolls her eyes affectionately, hooking their arms together as they slow their pace, finally out of reach of pressing eyes and hands. "I've been getting you out of the worst situations since we were kids, Sonic. By this point, I think I'm the only one who knows how to." Sonic laughs, hugging Amy closer, bumping them together lovingly. "What would I do without you here to save me from these things?" "You'll probably run away and leave a trail of upset people who'll spread rumors about you just to be petty," Amy remarks. The clicking of her heels is a soothing noise against Sonic's overly sensitive ears, the familiar sound relaxing his perked quills and irritated mind. A hand grabs Sonic's, squeezing reassuringly as Amy's head tilts. "What were they doing with you for so long, anyway? I've been looking for you since the first interview ended. If I'd known a bunch of other media vultures were going to spring at you, I would have beat them back with my hammer and gotten your ass out." Warmth pulses, warming him from the inside out as Amy punches her fist into the palm of her other hand with a huff at the thought, arm still hooked with Sonic's. He adored her fierce protectiveness, especially toward himself. She and Sonic have endured more together than Tails and Knuckles combined, at least when it comes to the public's challenges. No one could ever see them innocently, even as kids. They had to fiend off gross remarks and expectations that messed with their friendship more than once, especially when Amy was raised in a heavily amatonormative town. But Sonic wouldn't trade her for the world; Amy was a firm, steady presence in his ever-changing life. He needed someone like her, but most importantly, he wanted not just anyone like her but Amy herself. Her charming, heart-wrenching smile, honest outlook, and natural knack for responsibility made life so much better. No one else in Sonic's life held such a large part of his heart so effortlessly with her endless understanding and kindness, the drive to help when needed, and endless backup when push came to shove in battle or just in life. Sonic loved her, just not in any of the ways people wanted.

[izuruswhore]

Ahem.

TORD. DUMBFUCK (affectionately). HEY. GUESS WHAT. I CARE ABOUT YOU. A LOT. REMEMBER THAT. BELIEVE ME. I WILL LITERALLY MAKE SO MANY POSTS PUBLICLY ANNOUNCING HOW MUCH I CARE FOR YOU AND VALUE YOU AS A FRIEND I STG. DO I NEED TO GRAB A HAMMER AND BEAT YOU WITH LOVE /p? BECAUSE I WILL. I HAVE THE HAMMER READY. IT’S THERE. 

okay but in all seriousness, I’d have to say you’re my closest online friend. I’d include you in my top 5 friends list, which INCLUDES my IRL friends I see every day. And you beat some of them. So. Like. Yeah. I CARE. A LOT. You’re a silly little guy. Fren shaped. Mentally unstable? Yes. But still fren shaped. I will punch you (with love and affection /p) so get this THROUGH YOUR SKULLL. 

I’M NICE TO YOU BECAUSE YOU’RE FREN. AND I WANT YOU TO BE HAPPY. AND KNOW I CARE. 

🔨🔨🔨 get BONKED WITH AFFECTION

FUCKING SOBBING OMG YOURE LITERALLY SO SWEET

HOW DID I GET SO LUCKY TO HAVE YOU AS A FRIEND WTF

[nopeferatu]

okayyyy i guess ill just write abt some things that i wanna get out before i forget to??

- LOVE, love love how they made ennis the one who initiated all of the romantic affection between the two. literally insane over it. it feels so in-character, considering ennis has probably been affection starved since his mother died when he was a kid. of course he has alma, but do we really get the sense that ennis was ever very affectionate with her? could he have been, in rural, christian, wyoming, where conervative notions of courtship prevail? did he even want to be, knowing that the only person he shows real attraction towards is a man? who knows. we just know that he was craving love, and lucas did an amazing job at capturing that need.

- the "'lets ranch up together', 'no bc earl and rich'" conversation happens after ennis tells jack that he'd divorced alma...a year and a half earlier. what an interesting change! it seems like both adaptations, movie and play, mess around with that specific sequence of events. i really enjoyed what it brought to this specific show, though, because in the script it's described as a "gut-punch" to jack when ennis tells him he already left alma in response to jack telling ennis that he'd decided to leave lureen. it really hammers home the idea that jack thought it was just their wives getting in the way of their life together all that time. it was framed wayyy different than jack driving up 14 hrs after getting his hopes up thanks to a phonecall or a postcard from ennis abt the divorce, but it still hits the beat it's supposed to, where we as the audience can see that its the first time their relationship shifts—and not for the better.

- "little darlin'."I got to hear "LITTLE DARLIN'" not just once, but TWICE. still not over it.

- the show also brought more...i guess, explicit attention to the fact that ennis really only wants to do ranch work, and how much that affects his family. i know its present in all the texts, but the new conversations he and alma have regarding the various 'city jobs' she tries to rope him into and the dead-end ranch jobs that keep going belly up from underneath him are just really sad. he's someone who craves wide open spaces, and the beauty of film allowed heath to capture this hunched, clenched, uncomfortable look and feel of a man who seems too big for any room he's in. ennis is not happy in domesticity. he's a saddle bum through and through, and out with nature is where he belongs. but since theatre (esp theatre in-the-round) doesn't have the luxury of different set dressing, those conversations and arguments bw ennis and alma capture that same bit of characterization.

- i...dunno how i feel about mike's jack, if i'm honest? lucas was incredible. i think he brought just the right amount of taciturn and tender, rage and remorse to a role that needs all of that in an actor. i think mike's jack was a little...idk. too big, if you get me? like there were certain line deliveries that i felt could've been said differently, or had different emotions behind them than the ones i was picking up on. i know stage is different, so in both cases, the actors went VERY big (heath's quiet, simmering rage is a completely different beast against lucas' loud, screaming outburtsts, for example), but...idk. there was just something about mike's jack that threw me off? I told my friend that I was iffy about his performance, and without prompt she said, "I didn't like how much he laughed at everything" and I think I feel the same. For example, the "I didn't want none of either kind but fuck all has worked the way i wanted, nothing has ever come to my hand the right way" line was said really jolly, without much of a edge to it, and i think thats what's thrown me off-kilter so much. in mike's performance, i didn't feel the bitter edge to a lot of his lines that occur later on in the script that are apparent to me not only in jake gyllenhaal's performance, but in the SS text, itself.

He was technically very good and I love the silly things he'd do to get ennis to open up, but he was a little too jovial, not enough bitchy, not enough moody and sassy like jake's jack. i see a lot of jake's jack in mike's performance bc aside from a few lines about how much jack likes the rodeo, all we can really glean from either characters in the SS text is that ennis is quiet, and that jack talks a lot. im not trying to compare the two performances too much bc they are fundamentally different actors working in different mediums, but heath and jake brought a lot of dimsension into charas who could have turned out waaaay different had different actors played them and gotten in touch w different emotions within the script, so i can see how other actors could look to the film for a lot of inspo on how to go about portraying ennis and jack while trying to do their own things as well. my issue is that jack becomes very heartsick and bitter and just plain fed up with everything about his life by the time their last trip rolls around, but play!jack never let that bitterness start to show, so by the time that jack does his whole "i wish i knew how to quit you" monologue, it felt very abrupt to see him screaming and yelling and hollering at ennis like that.

i dunno, after seeing tons of ppl in the brokeback tag over the past few months saying that mike faist was their favorite jack, i was actually really expecting a lot more? but as it stands, jake gyllenhaal still reigns supreme. he captured every facet of jack twist that makes him so compelling to read and write and think about and analyze, and mike, while he was still very good, didn't do that nearly as well imho.

- the play firmly cemented to me that jack twist is just bottom coded, i guess

- some of the music hit at different scenes than i had initially thought they would?? i thought the play would end on "hale strew river" playing in the bg as *SPOILER* old!ennis holds the ghost/dream/memory version of young!jack in a mirror of the way he'd held jack by the campfire on brokeback in '63. but that was not the case. this is an instance of where my heightened expectations made the reality seem kind of disappointing in comparison. i'm also kind of sad that my other favorite song, "beneath the moon," was only featured as a diegetic recording heard on a clock radio (NOT live), and it was played during a scene between alma and ennis. Like, looking back at the lyrics it makes sense:

Why don't you take me for a stroll into the sunset

Another lonely summer's day is ending soon

Oh, let us walk another mile into the twilight

And let me be alone with you beneath the moon

But i thought that it was going to be played during a scene where another one of jack's frequent proposals of a life together gets rejected. when the soundtrack for the play was released it gave me the same vibes as "i dont want to say goodbye", one of the few original songs on the movie soundtrack, and i was POSITIVE that this was a jack-longing-for-ennis song. like, it's all about sunsets and twilight and the moon and all this outdoor imagery, and as we all know, jack and ennis are literally only together underneath the sunsets and twillight and moon! so im actually really sad it wasn't an ennis/jack moment :c

- the actor who played jack's dad played the role a lot more emotionally than i expected. movie!john is very, again, muted and quietly bitter, just like all these characters are. play!john seemed really...what i can only describe as choked up? like, he was shouting and got really riled up in his "jack used to say" monologue at ennis, and there was some disgust in there and a lot of anger, but what i actually read was more like him telling ennis "you're part of the reason why my son is gone." and then he gets up and walks away from the table, and exits the stage. it was really really heartbreaking. maybe i have a different read on the performance than what was intended, but it opens up a whole new side to john twist that i think would be interesting to explore.

- theres a few little added lines of dialogue on jack's part that are great. when they leave brokeback and are heading away in opposite directions, jack turns back around and goes "ennus-" as though he's going to make his proposal to start a life together then and there, but ennis knowingly cuts him off and says smth like "see you around, jack twist", and shakes his hand goodbye. there was another moment (the divorce admission, the rich and earl confession scene) where jack is talking about their sweet life together, and hes talking about them being in rocking chairs on their porch in front of a nice fire and ughhghf....it called to mind this line in one of my all-time fave fics, Recompense:

Couldn't set out on the porch, just set, quiet and together; there wasn't any porch, wasn't even any house, where they could be seen setting. Start hauling their canes, their bifocals, damn electric blankets, up in back of the pickup? They couldn't have that life. They couldn't have any life at all. The weight of Jack's misery, pressing all around, seemed enough to cave him in.

one i didnt like, though, was when jack and ennis are wrestling, jack gets pinned under ennis and says "sheep be damned!" before ennis kisses him in the first romantic display of affection we see bw the two. also when the sheep get mixed up, ennis has a meltdown and tells jack that aguirre will realize the counts off and put 2 & 2 together that they're fooling around, and he yells smth along the lines of their trist being "sick", and Jack says smth like, "you sure didn't seem to think it was sick this past month."

this is just a me thing honestly bc i'm kind of a SS purist in some instances, and one thing that always stuck with me is that jack and ennis never talk about the sex they're having when they're on brokeback. aside from the "im not no queer" convo, the sex wasn't even alluded to; they just "let it happen," and i think thats veryyy in-line for a character like ennis. i think jack would love to talk about it, but he doesn't wanna spook ennis away, so he keeps his mouth shut. i dont think either of them would speak, even in a roundabout way, abt their sex life when they're 19 on brokeback, and thats why the whole "redlined it all the way couldnt get here fast enough" line is so revelatory imo, bc its the first time either of them acknowledge the conscious choice theyre making to fuck. so idk. i didnt really care for the fact that they were (somewhat) openly referring to their tryst while still on brokeback

- less a note of the show and more a note of the audience, but i saw the show twice and the first night i saw it, the audience laughed at REALLY sad and serious moments that i in no way thought were laugb worthy, and i felt like maybe i was taking the work too srsly until i saw the final performance and THAT audience didnt laugh at any of those really sad moments. so i got rly irritated abt that the first night cause it wasnt even like the lines were delivered in a jokey way or anythibg....

anyways. i need to sleep. look out for some other posts cause im sure ill have more to say the longer i stew on it