#Remember when shit made a slight amount of sense?

[a-hell-of-a-lot-of-muses]

((Now catching up on the BSD manga and just:

Fyodor, you are a freak and I am impressed by this Bleach level (aka Mayuri level) logic.))

[reiderwriter]

🔫 Oh, Captain, My Captain 🔫

Pairing: Unit Chief!Spencer Reid x Fem BAU!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: Unit Cheif!Spencer who uses gun training as an excuse to rub up on the new member🤭

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Gun kink, dubcon, dry humping, pictures/photos, age gap, Pervert! Spencer, unprotected sex, implied cream pie, semi-public sex, boss x employee dynamic, spanking, masturbation, slight cum play, degradation (slut, whore etc), praise kink if you squint (good girl).

A/N: This is my first entry for the CM Kink Bingo challenge 2024~! I chose a lot of the prompts based on some of the smut requests in my inbox and let my TELL you I was SO EXCITED to write Unit Chief + gun kink!!! I'm so excited for this entire challenge tbh, it reminds me of the good old days on past years' Kinktober 😂🥰

Masterlist || Bingo Board

When Spencer Reid was made the interim Unit Chief for the BAU, he agreed with the reasoning. At the time, he really couldn't argue that he was aptly experienced, responsible enough to make big decisions, and reliable. And whilst he had been through a lot in the last two decades with the FBI, he still did value his own sense of morality. 

He accepted the job and then was assigned you as an intern, and suddenly, he didn't agree with any previous assessment of him. 

Experienced, yes, but he was still stammering and rambling when discussing simple things like the weather. He certainly wasn't responsible enough to keep his eyes off you, and he probably couldn't be relied on in the field to focus instead of thinking about your pretty, plump lips and how they would feel wrapped around his cock. 

All morality had gone out of the window after a week of working with you when he closed his office blinds, popped his pants open and took his cock in hand, relieving himself while staring at your newly printed ID card. 

He had a lot of power, during the few months Emily was away, and he was trying desperately not to use it. 

Unfortunately, with great power comes a great amount of orders to give, and since you reported directly to Unit Chief Reid, you'd become his de facto shadow for the first few weeks. You bought him coffees when you got your own, asked him for quick run downs of past cases so you could take notes and remember relevant details for later, asked him for help writing reports. 

Which caused the blinds to be drawn at least once a day as he desperately tried to keep his hands off you. 

Emily had joked when leaving him behind that she'd usually give the new boss the “don't shit where you eat” speech, especially with people in your chain of command, but it really wasn't necessary with him. Of all people. 

It didn't help that you were so damn clumsy in the office. You were usually pretty calm and collected, but since starting at the BAU, the pressure was getting to you a bit. 

You made small mistakes, you double, and triple checked your work, and you were constantly in Spencer's office asking him for opinions on topics, for background information, and for, well, reassurance. 

And you dropped stuff. A lot of stuff. 

Your analytical Monday have been perfectly suited to the BAU, but somewhere between your head and your hands, all your body parts refused to function adeptly. You'd dropped things constantly, tripped on your own feet, and constantly bumped into people even while they stood still. 

Not to mention the time your dropped your (thankfully, iced) coffee all over Spencer's lap when you'd brought him his own. 

“Oh my- Oh my god, Doctor Reid, I am so so sorry,” you scrambled, immediately grabbing tissues as he jumped up from the desk. 

“Please let me help you, god, I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry-” you said, patting away as his lap as he stood frozen in front of you. You dropped to your knees to mop up the traces of coffee still running down his thighs, as he stammered. 

“Y/N, please, you don't need to, I have a spare pair I can-” 

“I'll have them dry cleaned, I promise,” you begged, just as a knock sounded and the door to his office swung back open for JJ to enter through. 

“Spencer, the files for the- woah! Okay, I'm not jumping to conclusions, but I'm still backing out of this room right now.” 

She laughed her way out of the room, which was when your brain finally caught up to your hands and realized the stupid position you'd put yourself in. 

You'd practically pushed your boss up against the wall, kneeled before him, and begged to touch him. 

You'd squeaked out an apology and quickly left the office, much to Spencer's relief, because even after an ice bath and semi-public humiliation, he was hard and horny and his IQ had been knocked to roughly 7. 

How he'd wanted to keep you pinned in place, to stroke your cheek as he made sure you took each inch of him down your throat slowly, filling you up so you couldn't escape. 

How he'd wanted to keep his job as well, something he'd probably not get to do if JJ had decided to walk back in, or - god forbid - bring other witnesses to his debauchery. 

You were clumsy, and he was desperately horny, and you were both complete and total messes.

“I don't see how I can help you, Y/N,” Tara held up her hands in defeat as you begged for her help. 

“I'm competent with a gun, but it's not something I can teach you. I wouldn't know where to start.” 

“I just need someone to show me how to hold it properly. There's a trick to it, right? There has to be a trick to it?” 

“Ah yes, the old aim and shoot trick, I forgot about that one,” Rossi laughed, shaking his head at your office antics. 

You'd been interning for a few weeks, and the latest in a line of ability tests was shooting. You'd pretty much aced the physical fitness test, but you'd never even held a gun before joining the FBI, and you were struggling. 

“I've put in 10 hours at the shooting range in the last week, and the closest I've got to an accurate shot was hitting the next lane's paper. Don't ask.”

Your coworkers shared a sympathetic look as you sat down at the round table, ready to hear the next case details. 

“I'm relegated to office work until I pass this certificate, and I was not made for sitting at a desk for 7 hours.” 

“Well, why don't you ask Reid for help?” JJ said helpfully, bringing her coffee to her lips to hide the meddling smile plastered there. 

“Reid?” 

“He had some issues shooting when he was a rookie as well, but he put in some hours at the range, and now he's the best shot on the team.” 

“Easy there, blondie, I'm nothing to sniff at with a gun myself,” Rossi smiled, patting himself on the back. 

“I'm sure he'd enjoy helping you,” JJ continued. 

“Who would enjoy what?” Spencer said, finally joining the team in the meeting room and pulling out the case files as everyone opened up their tablets. 

“Y/N was just saying she's having some trouble shooting, and I suggested she ask for your help?” 

He froze momentarily and stared down at you as you looked up at him, hopefully, a shy smile on your face. 

He tried to keep his eyes on yours, but from this height, he had the perfect view down your shirt, your perfect-sized breasts pressing together as you leaned towards him, giving him a generous eyeful. 

He looked away quickly and nodded his agreement, sitting himself down and attaching his eyes to the files instead so he could get his mind off of  your body, and your lips, and the begging that surely would've come out of your mouth had he not accepted earlier. His brain was tormenting him with images of you underneath him, under his desk even, his cock in your mouth as you paid for his precious time training you. He blinked away the thoughts and, for once in his life, actually had to put effort into reading and understanding each word on a page as he ignored the raging fire of his lust. 

A few hours later, the two of you were at the shooting range. 

“My main problem is shooting. The instructors said my form isn't great either and that I looked like a child playing with toys whenever I hold a gun, so if you could help with that…?” You said, putting on the goggles and turning back to look at your boss. 

“Doctor Reid?” You asked. 

“Oh, yeah. Yes, they said something similar when I was training. First, let's see what you can do.” 

You smiled at him as he watched you bounce up to the lane and pick up the gun. You calmed your breathing and got ready to take the safety off when you felt a hard hand clamp over your own and pull the gun from your hand. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, staring down at you with wide eyes. 

“You said to show you-”

“You're not wearing a vest.” 

You cursed quickly as he pulled you back over to the side of the room. The place was practically deserted, as it was past the official closing hours of the range, but Spencer had been forced to pull some strings with his new title and had managed to keep it open (and somehow unmanned) until now. 

He quickly grabbed the first vest he saw and pulled it over your head, taking the side straps and tightening them until the vest was comfortably protecting all your major organs. His hands lingered for a second, and you stared shocked up at him, somehow enjoying the way he pushed you around. 

You were a grown woman, and you could do this all by yourself, but there was something about a man roughly a decade and a half older than you controlling your movements that were entirely too dangerous. You quickly stepped away and back to the podium, whispering a quick thanks under your breath as you tried to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. 

You stretched out your neck a little as you felt him walk back behind you again, keeping his distance as he watched you shoot your first clip at the targets. 

Out of six bullets, you'd missed the target five times and had grazed just below the targets arm once, a brilliant display of your natural lack of talent. 

“Your form is wrong. You're holding yourself too rigid, which means the recoil has a higher chance to hurt you. Loosen your arms slightly.”

His advice was actually good  and you followed his instructions closely, listening clearly as he walked you through each tip. 

“Like this?” 

“A little more… here, let me.” 

You had no chance to react before his body was pressed behind yours and his hands were wrapped around your own, moving g each finger by a fraction to improve your grip, trailing up your arms slowly, leaving a field of goosebumps wherever his fingers grazed. He repositioned your elbows before moving forward his hands down to your hips, turning them slightly as he widened your stance. 

“Try now.” 

Breathless, you could only nod as he stepped back, unaware if he'd even said anything since his hands had landed on you. 

You forced yourself to breathe again and took one shot.

"Oh my god, it hit. Spencer, it hit!” 

“Do it again and we can celebrate.” 

Another five shots later, and you'd managed a small cluster of hits around the arms and one shot. 

“You're definitely veering left, so let's try and over correct by aiming to the right.”

He pushed up against you again and held the gun, moving it to the right a fraction, taking complete control of your body. 

If your breath was scarce before, it was totally gone now as you felt his crotch press up against your ass. Considering the bulletproof vests put an extra inch around your chests, he was absolutely doing it on purpose, and you were shocked to realize you were too. 

You'd pushed your ass back into him, grinding slowly on his hardening cock as he hooked his head over your shoulder, looked down the sight with you, and fired the gun. 

Straight into the center of the target. 

“Good girl,” he whispered before pulling away.  

He moved two meters away from you, and maintained the distance for the rest of the night, and even though you were both aware of his hard cock tightening his pants, neither of you said a word. 

“Same time tomorrow,” he said and grabbed his jacket to leave. It was the first thing he'd said as your Unit Chief that even vaguely sounded like a command and not an enthusiastic suggestion, and you were suddenly very excited for the rest of the week. 

“Before we start,” he said the next day, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows neatly. “Show me your posture again.” 

He gestured towards one of the dummy guns at the side of the range, the style you recognised from mission training that held small layers instead of bullets - same weight, same mechanism, no lethality. 

You'd spent the day and night worked up from the last time you'd been here with him, and a small part of you felt disappointed you were starting with the kiddy gun. Not one to miss an opportunity, though. You bent over to pick it up, making sure to bend at the waist right in front of him to show off your ass. 

Maybe you'd gone crazy, but the memory of his touch was burning you from the inside out and you needed to feel it again to make sure you weren't crazy. 

He maintained his distance, though. It was hard for him to keep his hands off you in all honesty, arms crossed to keep himself from crossing any more lines. That and he was sure that you'd be able to tell he'd spurted cum all over them in his office the night before despite him scrubbing them thoroughly multiple times, the weight of his guilt eating into him like a parasite.

“Arms up, point straight. Good.” You tried to keep still as he assessed your form, but his eyes prowled over you thoroughly, and you had to suppress a shudder. 

“You need to control your breathing, Y/N, you can't be afraid of pulling the trigger if you need to.” 

“I'm not-” 

“Shoulders back,” he said, moving to your side as he again began slightly correcting your form. 

Unlike the day before, though, this time, there were no bullets. And no bullets meant no bulletproof vest. 

That's why when his exploring hands came to your chest, he could feel your hardening nipples through the flimsy material of your dress. He could feel you pressing forward into his touch as his hands cupped your breast.

“Calm your heartbeat, Y/N. You need to stay calm so you can shoot straight, right?” 

The words sounded alien, even to him. His gaze was locked on the top of your shirt, looking down it to the slope of your chest, disappearing into your dress. He so wanted to let his hands disappear right along with them, to pull you back into his aching cock and play with your nipples until you cried out for mercy. 

He let his touch fall and played off his molestation as correction, even as your underwear grew slick with desire. 

“Grab your vest. Let's try again.” 

A week of late night training later, and you weren't sure if you were improving at all. The guns were the last thing on your mind when Spencer's hands were on you, his voice in your ear telling you how good you were for him, such a good subordinate. 

Both of you had yet to acknowledge that you were spending the majority of the session just rubbing up on each other, like teens at prom, desperate for whatever friction you could get without having to name the game you were playing. 

“Doctor Reid, if I hit the target this time, can you do something for me?” You chanced on the Friday, needing something else to tide you over for the weekend. 

“What do you need?” 

“No, no, nothing specific, just like a…a reward?"

He'd done his best to keep his hands off of you, which meant that he'd failed miserably, and he knew exactly what he'd like to treat you to as a reward. Keeping his hands of you in daytime hours had become harder and harder as the week flew by, and he felt like a randy school boy the amount of times he'd needed to excuse himself to either kill his bones or abuse his cock with his hand.

“Oh,” he said, growing quiet. You took his hesitation for rejection, and immediately began to back pedal. 

“Y-You don't have to, sir. It was really quite conceited on my part to demand a reward from y-” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“If you shoot six bullets that hit either the chest or the head, you'll get a reward.”

You smiled brightly at him, suddenly feeling very hopeful. 

“But if you miss, you'll get the opposite.” 

The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about what they meant. Just hearing the words made him want to visibly cringe and write himself up for office misconduct. But your smile didn't fade one bit. 

“Yes, sir. I won't let you down.” 

Turning away from him, you loaded your weapon again, and he watched you put yourself into the correct position. Despite his middling efforts to actually teach you, you had seemed to have improved over the last few days. 

He wasn't sure if he wanted that outcome. 

Just as you stepped up to take your first shot, he stepped closer to you, wrapped his hands around your waist, and pushed up against you. 

Your first shot veered left, completely missing the target as you gasped. Spencer had popped open the front button of your pants and was unzipping them, letting his hand wonder down to your panties. 

“Look straight. There will be distractions out in the field, you can do this, right?” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” 

“Good girl.” 

You tried to steady your breathing g and your hands again as he began rubbing slow circles into your underwear, your body alight with lust as you let him. 

Your second shot hit the paper. Your third didn't. 

“You can do better than that, Y/N.” 

You took another deep breath and picked up your gun again, shooting just as he shoved your underwear to one side and dipped his fingers into you. 

Your mouth opened in a silent moan as you quickly shot your last three bullets, not caring where they went so much as where his fingers went. 

“Y/N, I expected better,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he took the gun from your hands with his spare. “You can't even handle a weapon like this.” 

He kept his fingers pumping shallowly inside you, as he inspected the gun again. 

“Maybe you'd learn better under duress. I did, too. It's easy to learn when there's a gun pointed yo your head, right?” 

He quickly turned the gun on you  pushing it to your temple as his other hand shoved your pants down. He angled you forward with a press of his hips as his fingers returned to your cunt and slipped deeper inside. 

“S-Spencer, fuck-” 

“You missed all six bullets, so punishment it is.” His fingers gained speed as you stood, flushed and spreading your legs for him. You wanted to bury your head in your arms and scream out your moans, but the gun to your head kept you quiet and in place. 

“You may not be able to shoot a gun, Y/N, but that doesn't mean you're not enjoying them. You're so wet for me.” 

Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt your climax build and build, chasing the high you'd been searching for with every unprotected touch. 

You were letting your boss touch you, letting a man almost old enough to be your father hold a gun to your head, and you were going to squirt all over his fingers very soon. 

“Spencer, Spencer, please- please….”

“Shhh, it’s okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You just needed some more help learning. You can cum now, princess. It's okay, let go.” 

You tried your best to hold back, but your body had a mind of its own as your orgasm hit you, the cold metal of the gun finally moving away from your head. 

With one hand around your waist, pinning you to the side so you stayed upright, Spencer carefully placed the gun back down before dragging your pants back up your legs. 

Taking your elbow in his hand, he walked you to the door as you blinked out the daze in your eyes. 

“We're going to my office now. To talk about your recent performance.” 

You couldn't have cared less what he'd said as long as his hands were on you, stretching your head back so it rested on his chest and pushing up until your lips could connect with the bare skin at his neck. 

“Hands off. We're going to walk all the way back to my office, and you're not going to let anyone know what just happened, okay? Not with your words, or your expressions or body language, okay?” 

You nodded, but he kept a hand on your elbow, gesturing yourself forward. 

You weren't sure how you were even able to walk after what had to have been the most intense orgasm of your life, but the promise of more likely carried you all the way up the stairs until you were comfortably enclosed in Spencer's  office. 

Like he'd found himself doing multiple times a day this month, Spencer closed the blinds, pulling you down to the sofa with him as he sat. 

“When I was your age,” he started, making sure your ass was facing up as he pushed your head into the cushions gently. 

“When I was your age, I couldn't shoot well. My Unit Chief had to kick some sense into me. I think you need that as well, right, Y/N? You need someone to beat some sense into you?” 

You nodded as he stroked your hair, and he thanked you for being so open to him. 

He made quick work of your pants and underwear, and in a quick hot burst, his hand came down on your ass. 

“Fuck, more. Please more!” 

He did it again and again as you squirmed in his lap and moaned, begging him to keep brutalizing you. 

“That's it, show me how pathetic you are, show me how much you're craving my attention.” 

He pushed your legs off of his lap until you were kneeling on the floor underneath him. He pulled up your arms and pulled your shirt over your head, similarly discarding your tank top and bra until you were totally bare on the floor in front of him. 

Instead of stripping himself yet, he pulled out his phone, palming himself through his pants. 

“Show yourself off,” he said, pointing the camera at you. 

You followed his directions quickly, hands flying to your tits to fondle them while he took pictures of your fucked our face. 

With his foot he gently nudged you down onto all yours, letting you know to turn around so he could flash a picture or two of your sloppy cunt as well. 

Your hips rocked back and forth in the air, unconsciously searching for something to rub against, some relief from your frustrations. 

He kept snapping pictures. 

Deciding that you needed his attention and stat, you let your chest fall to the floor, face flat too as your hips lifted higher in the air. Your hands found your ass cheeks, and you spread them slightly, giving Spencer an even better view of how much you needed him. 

He took one last photo, and then he knelt behind you faster than you could expect. 

In a heartbeat, his pants were down, in two his cock was buried deep inside of you. 

“So…tight, shit. You're such a precious little slut, you kept this little pussy nice and fresh just for me, right?” 

It was all you could do not to cum right there, and when he started moving you were a goner. It had always been easier for you to cum a second time than it was for you to cum a first time, and considering how quick he'd made it happen earlier, you really should've been expecting it. 

Your body convulsed around his cock as you screamed into the floor, hands still spreading yourself wide for him as he rutted into you. 

“That's it, milk my cock, Y/N. Milk your bosses cock, let me blow my load inside you.” 

Your nipples rubbed painfully against the carpet, only adding to the storm of stimulation you were experiencing. 

His hips faltered as he collapsed over your body, holding tight as his muscles locked him into place with his orgasm. He came inside you with a grunt, and he felt your cunt still clenching around him, making sure to take every last drop. 

“That- was much - preferable,” you said, gasping for breath. “To shooting - any gun.” 

He rolled off of you as you laughed, body satiated now for the first time in what felt like forever. 

“You still need to work on your gun skills,” he said after you'd detangled yourself, but before either if you had worked up the courage to leave the floor and get dressed. 

“Why?” You said, turning your head to look at him  lying on the floor next to you. 

“It seems I can fire pretty accurately already,” you said, as your hand snaked down to his cock one more time. 

[meidiary]

( 📁 ) THEM ACTING OVERLY JEALOUS

synopsis: the monster trio and how they act when they're way too jealous for their own good...

characters: luffy, sanji & zoro!

warnings: a teeny tinyyy amount of swearing [:

a/n: first time writing for them so i'm pretty nervous!!! , hope you enjoy!! banner is made by me, inspired by the lovely @sixosix and the layout is inspired by the lovely @luckyscribbles <3

it was his fault! it really was.. he was the sole reason you were entertaining this way too confident guy- because he told you that he was out of your league! can you believe that?! and now ZORO is throwing daggers at the poor man just with his piercing gaze alone..

ignoring zoro's needy angry glares he's sending you two, you continue charming your ... acquauntance, growing his already far too stretched ego. "oh darling, how i could melt in those beautiful emerald colored eyes of yours~" and with that sanji cringe-worthy comment you got him babbling on about himself... again.

you're getting progressively more annoyed the longer you hear him try to flirt with you. nonetheless you don't move an inch, because you know he's watching your every move; waiting for you to come moping to him about the guy. he'd feel a sense pride because you came back to him. and that pride, the face he makes whenever he turns out to be right about something, albeit it's a very handsome one, is the last thing you want to witness right now.

so you keep yourself from throwing this guy's drink in his face and telling him his cologne is absolutely murdering your sense of smelling.

you look up as you suddenly stop hearing the random guy talk about some castle garden of his. he gulps hesistantly whilst zoro stands before you, hands in his pockets. "we're leaving." no you're not! "oh zoro~ i barely-" "now." you stand up and turn to leave, but quickly turn back around and give the stranger a kiss on his cheek before leaving with zoro, causing his cheeks to change to a red-shade.

"miss! will i ever see you again?!" he asks before backing up seeing zoro's death glare. "my love, if we are meant to be we will definitely meet again!" what's up with you and these shakespear lines?

zoro gives you a slight shove with his shoulder as he rolld his eyes for what seems like the millionth time this hour. "i think i found my soulmate zoro!" you sang while you interlocked you arm with his. you were met with yet another eye-roll.

"you were the one that said he's out of my league, remember?" zoro huffs annoyed. "shit- that was a joke damn it!" "if anything you're out of his fucking league, dumbass" you lean onto him as you two continue making your way back to the going merry.

"maybe i exaggerated a bit too.." you slowly admit before hearing his usual chuckle. "just don't go flirting with some stranger again, ever. shit could've gone wrong real fast y'know?" you smile sheepishly and nod. "good thing you were there huh?"

and you could've sworn you say his cheeks turn into a rose color before he swiftly turned his head to the side, greeting sanji and nami. was he blushing..?

SANJI was this close.. this close to absolutely losing it and slicing this daring man up with zoro's swords. who does he think he is? flirtingly, charmingly speaking with his lover?! well truth be told.. you two weren't official, far from it actually;

you two were so close to finally having the months-due talk about the classic, what are we-question. but of course sanji had to hit on the waitress that casually passed your table. that was your final straw. if he couldn't stop his antics for one night, you would resume yours for good.

and oh how it made him clench his fists so hard they became white, how it made him ignore all the beautiful ladies surrounding him, for what felt like the first time ever, how he saw you with your pretty dress on, that he bought for you because it reminded him of you, sat on some navy's lap, entertaining the bastard not worhty of a single enchanting smile of yours. yet there you were smiling, no laughing at something the navy said, all while you were supposed to be with sanji. laughing at something he said, playing with his hair, sat on his lap.

he was this close to exploding and increasing his bounty a good amount by punching this navy untill his fists fell off. "sanji, don't you fucking dare." nami warned him, glaring at him from the other side of the table, not in the mood to be on the run again after finally being able to relax for a day.

sanji heard nami, he did! but the minute he saw the disgusting navy's hand run up your thigh causing you to jump off of him, he finally lost it. "keep your fucking hands off her you sewer rat!" he jumped up sprinting at the navy, his snow-white fists ready to release all the pent up anger he held.

but before sanji got to the navy he was stopped by you. your soft, slightly cold hands holding back one of his clenched fists. causing him to slowly unclench it. you tried to push sanji back, knowing his uproar would bring about another navy chasing. "you alright, love?" it's as if all his previous anger vanished the moment he felt your soft touch, smelled you sweet perfume, the moment you felt like his again. "y-yeah i'm good.. but we should get goi-"

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!" the navy man roared causing the others to swiftly join the yelling. "hey aren't those those strawhat pirates with a bounty?!" from the other side of the room it felt like you could hear nami's long sigh. "see what you've done?! grab zoro, usopp and i will take luffy!" everyone complied and assumed their role.

sanji lifted his leg up ready to kick zoro awake right before you pushed him slightly making him stand on two feet again. "not doing that sanji!" he playfully rolls his eyes at your statement.

waking up zoro and running to the ship in a hurry, with a good 3 dozen navy soldiers running behind you calling you names, was the usual. but what surprised you was sanji holding your hand tightly the whole way, not letting go for a second.

once on the ship, back to sailing on the waters, while everyone was catching their breath, sanji took you aside, he interlocked your hands with his while he locked your gazes, still breathless he looks at you earnestly. his eyes illuminating the moon's glow. "i'll stop the flirting my darling, i promise. the only woman i'll charm will be you.. so you better not grow tired of it." he chuckled still a little breathless. you smiled, leaning your body onto his. "you better sanji.."

"i'm all yours sweetheart. all yours"

LUFFY felt weird. he had never met this man before, yet he suddenly has the urge to gum gum bazooka him for the rest of the day. why is he feeling this way right now? is it because he hadn't eaten yet? no that can't be it.. he just had a very good meal with you; you two had split up from the rest of the crew to have your lunch at some fancy looking restaurant on the beach.

luffy furrows his eyebrows once again because of this feeling. he figures, after a while to be completely honest, that the reason he wants to kick this man off the island is that he's taking way too long speaking with you. he's been occupying you for a good 10 minutes now.

how could he? how did he dare to take you from him so carelessly? you two were enjoying your meals, yes you were chatting about the dumbest subjects known to the world, but you were enjoying it. and then some buff man comes and dares to ask you for directions?! it would've been fine if he had left after receiving them, but no, he had to keep talking to you!

luffy was starting to see red at this point. he gets it he does, you're a beautiful woman, you're smart yet very funny, energetic and enjoyable! but you're his. even though you don't know that, even though he never told you that, you are his. and no buff, tall, slick back haired guy was going to change that one bit.

luffy dropped his food and started to walk towards the two of you, angrily eyeing the bold man who was about to get bazooka-d to some far-away island. luffy started stretching his arms, getting ready to send him off.

you notice right away and block luffy's path to the man. trying to laugh it off, you said your goodbyes to the fella and dragged luffy back to the restaurant. "what were you thinking, luff! that could've ended up horribly!" you whisper-yelled, not wanting to attract any more unwanted gazes.

"he took you from me for 10 minutes! how was I supposed to endure any longer!" luffy childishly pouts as he resumes eating. "you could've just said so! no need to bazooka anyone anywhere luf'!" his furrowed eyebrows soften as he hears his nickname.

the first time you called him that he truly hated it. "it sounds like a dog's name!" he complained. but over time, that nickname became apart of him, it was apart of his daily routine; he'd wake up to it, adventure the world with it, buy groceries with it, hear scolds with it. he became one with that silly nickname you gave him, and he wouldn't give that three-letter name up for the world. he wouldn't be able to go a day anymore without hearing you talking about how "the seashells here are so pretty luf'!", or how "i just love it when it's only you and i, luf'," and let's not forget you waking him up with the usual "luf'! sanji finished breakfast, get up already!".

"you can't go off with weird men. i won't let you.. you shouldn't leave my side for some guy that doesn't even know where he's headed!" you chuckle at his remarks. "i wouldn't leave you for anyone luf'! just.. don't bazooka someone next time.. just talk to me."

"you're mine y'know.." luffy tells you while he's munching on some of his cold meat. your eyes widen at his sudden words. "w-what?" "i said you're mine!" he says louder, a little annoyed thinking you hadn't heard him the first time. "you never said that before.."

"never needed to," he takes another bite. "but you are, so don't forget that!" he furrows his eyebrows again while saying that earning a chuckle from you. "i won't.. don't you worry"

NOTE: and that's for my first one piece ficcccc!!!

[writingmeraki]

men on a mission.

a kim mingyu drabble !

pairing : secret!agent!mingyu x secret!agent!reader, established relationship ( they are married lmao )

genre : fluff. few rotten tooth worthy fluff.

warnings : kissing and mentions of alcohol/drunkness.

author's note : well. i was inspired by a sort of dream i had abt mingyu and this sprouted out of it lmao. i rlly do hope it makes sense <3 i kinda wanna make this a fic someday but i have too much shit on my hands rn so take this instead :D also unkept, unsaid,ugly emotions other units will be coming soon and maybe something for enha too cause it's been a HOTTT minute ☝️!!

sp. dt to my svt luvr moots 🩷!! @blue-jisungs ; @shuamorollss ; @odxrilove ; @flwoie ; @strxwberry-skiess ; @bambikisss ; @enluv !!!! ( this is my small attempt at showing y'all i am alive and do think of you guys everytime i open this app :( love u all even those who aren't mentioned ! )

word count : 0.9k

small drabble in the same universe ( continuation if you wish ) !!

Mission be darned, you may just get exempted due to murdering your assigned partner.

“Mingyu! Can you please stop drinking!?” 

You were sure your forehead might have become red from the amount of times you've been rubbing it and you can feel the grey hair seeping through.

Glaring at said man as he downed probably the fifth shot of some combo of liquor, you turned your attention to the bartender.

His eyes widened as he gulped in slight fear from the anger radiating in your gaze.

“I told you to stop. No more drinks for him.” 

You said calmly as he quickly nodded his head and went in a rush to clean the already cleaned up counter for the second time, finding it better to be anywhere but near a furious person.

He knew what he was paid was not worth getting into an argument about how customer service is the top thing and all that. 

“Loosen up! Have some fun babyyy!” His words slurred towards the end and you had to stop yourself from grinning at his words. You rolled your eyes at his words before hissing out lowly towards him,

“We are not supposed to have fun, if you remember, we’re here to collect some information!” You were whisper yelling at this point but you doubt anyone would hear you anyways from the loud music playing in the club which was already giving you a headache. 

“ ‘s fine~”

“I’ll get it out some other time, just relax yeah? It’s been a while since we went out.” 

Sighing at his words, you avoided looking at his face. You knew damn well he had that specific look. The look when he really wanted something from you which you weren’t agreeing on. You think it’s his eyes that get to you every damn time. 

Suddenly, he moved from his position and clinged to your arm, almost making you fall off the bar stool as he scooted closer with his, making a screeching sound that would have made you cringe if it weren’t for the fact you were trying not to fall over from the sudden weight added.

“Mingyu!” You yelped as you moved your right arm around him, trying to hold him as support,which was another mission in itself considering how broad his shoulders were. 

His face plopped itself on your shoulder, cheek smothered on it as he spoke, “You’re so warm, always are warm.”

You suppose he was somewhat fulfilling the actual mission you’d come for, which was acting like a couple in love as bait to get some information on a group that was specifically targeting couples for their acts and scams. 

“Uhm, are you alright?” You turned to the concerned bartender, who had immediately turned towards you once again when he heard your shocked yelp from before. 

“If he’s bothering you, I can call security.”

You rolled your eyes, for probably the nth time that night, murmuring under your breath how if he hadn’t given him the shots, he wouldn’t act that way.

“No it’s fine- he gets…clingy when he’s out of it.” 

“Gyu?” The coldness of the ring on your ring finger touched his cheek which made him slightly wake up from almost dozing off as you had turned your attention away from him.

The ring didn’t go unnoticed to the bartender as he nodded at you and went about his business. 

Turns out your mission was already halfway complete because you didn’t really need to fake being a couple, after all being married for six years is probably as real as it could get. 

“You’re so pretty, wanna marry you and just be with you~” 

You couldn’t stop the giggle now, your eyes sparkling underneath the club lights as you rubbed his cheek in adoration.

Well what was the point of trying to accomplish the mission anyways? You knew you would be able to get the information through other ways, so you might as well just 'have fun' as your actual partner ( for life ) said right?

Your anger was considerably simmered since it had occurred to you, it had been an actual while since you went out with him. Even if he was your husband, it was tough to get free time when you were both the best at your agency. 

“Well I think you’ve already accomplished that yeah baby?” You don’t think you’ll ever get over how your stomach feels like butterflies are roaming around when he grins at you the way he is at the moment. 

You’ll definitely never get over how he always and always looks at you like you hung up every star in the universe just for him to gaze at in awe. He looks at you, always did as if you held all the answers to his questions and perhaps in a sense you did. You were his everything, all the answers and all the stars. 

“I love you.” Your cheeks were probably hurting from grinning so much, you could never be angry at him. 

You moved your face a little closer to his, pecking his nose and pulling back,

“I do too. I mean I don’t think I'd have kept up with your annoying ass for the past almost decade if I didn’t.”

Before he could go on a rant about how mean you were being, you moved again, placing your lips on his, effectively shutting him up as his hazy brain tried to comprehend his long time–lifetime– crush kissing him. 

He would never get used to how you would make him feel like he’s a giddy boy in love all over again just from your mere actions. He’s probably been in love a trillion times by now but just with you and only you. 

Mission be darned, if he could have you like this at the end of the day, he doesn’t think he’ll ever regret anything. 

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist !

[mongoosingisme]

Can I request pre-relationship and pining Shane? I feel like that man LONGS and I need to see that. Possibly some angst too or miscommunications. And for possible NSFW, his best friend is totally his hand 😼

Ding dong

Here's the longing you ordered

I threw in a side of yearning and a little self-deprecation dipping sauce.

Enjoy, and don't forget to tip your driver!

Title: Pepper Problems

Pairing: Shane x fem!reader

Word Count: 2580

Rating: Explicit, just to be safe. 18+ only, if you would be so kind.

Tags and story under the cut

Tags: yearning masturbation, fantasized oral sex, fantasized rough sex, sad sack Shane

As a rule, Shane tried not to want things.

When you wanted things, you resigned yourself to one of two eventualities. You either didn’t get what you wanted, or you got it for a while and then it turned to shit.

Better to live with what you had.

Then the new farmer moved in, and Shane found himself breaking his own rules.

He watched her as he slouched at the bar. She was making her rounds, like she did a couple times a week. She liked to give gifts, smiling and laughing, a kind word for everyone she encountered.

She remembered names.

She remembered stories.

She was a ray of fucking sunshine.

It rankled.

“Brought you some peppers,” she said, handing him a bag with a smile. “Heard you liked them.”

They were beautiful, shockingly red in the clear plastic bag. He could tell just by looking at them that they’d taste delicious - a firm bite, spicy with a slight bit of sweetness beneath them.

He wanted to smile. Wanted to thank her. Wanted to bask, for a bit, in her sunshine. To photosynthesize, to unfurl, to become green and bright.

But there was a limited amount of good that could be in Shane’s life at a time. He’d learned not to push things. The farmer, with her bright eyes and pretty smile, was far too much good to fit.

So he’d let a look of disgust cross his face. “You got the wrong guy.”

It felt right, the way shame washed over him as her face fell. Shame he had space for. His capacity for it was limitless.

“Well, what do you like?” she’d asked. 

“Being left the fuck alone.” 

And that should have been that.

————

Of course it wasn’t.

Of course the farmer started showing up even more. 

Not to see him, but she seemed to have made friends with Emily… along with everyone else in the fucking town.

They loved her, and who could blame them? 

He kept his head down, listened to her voice. It changed depending on who she was talking to. Sardonic when joking with Emily. Respectful when Louis leaned against the bar. Light and a little flirty when that writer guy was there.

They’d make a good pair. Shane imagined it as he stared at his glass. Imagined the way the writer would touch her, all slow and gentle probably. Kiss her knuckles, say something romantic. Undress her slowly, respectfully.

Not like Shane would. Not like he wanted to. Fast and rough, buttons flying, thin cotton ripping in his haste to get to her, to find the warm skin underneath, to grab, to bury his nose and mouth into every inch of her, to breathe in and feel her surrounding him, overwhelming and sweet and -

“Hey Em, can I get another?” He gestured to his glass, trying to stop the train of thought before it could pull any further out of the station. 

“Pickles.” The farmer was looking at him. She was speaking to him. The words didn’t make sense, though.

He hadn’t had that much to drink, had he?

“Do you like them?” She was waiting for an answer.

“Fuck no.” It was honest, at least.

“Hmmmmm…” She seemed to be making a list in her mind. “No peppers. No pickles. Berries?”

“Beer,” Shane said, as Emily set another drink down. “And silence.”

“Got it,” the farmer said, and turned back to whoever else was there. The doctor guy. Harold or Hector or whatever the fuck his name was. Her voice was slower when she spoke with him. She seemed to weigh her words more carefully.

Shane wasn’t sure what she sounded like when she spoke with him. He was too wrapped up in his own response. 

Her eyes met his. Squinted. Seemed to weigh his glance.

He’d been staring.

He quickly looked down at his glass, and didn’t look up again until she left.

———————

The days were always the same. Wake up with a headache and a sour stomach. Summon a gentle word or two for Jas as he left for work (“have a good day, Peanut”). Move through his tasks. Try not to let his disdain for his boss show. Try not to take out his frustration on Sam (the kid was alright, another one of those rays of sunshine. How did they keep finding him?). Suffer until work was done. Tell himself he was going to go right back to the ranch to make dinner for Jas and read her a bedtime story. Fail to do that. Sit at the bar instead, basting in uselessness and self-disgust.

The pattern was grinding, but at least it was predictable.

Unless the farmer showed up.

She changed the gravity of the saloon. Something tipped sideways whenever she walked in. 

She kept trying to give him things.

Why did she do that?

“Sunflowers?” She had a bouquet in her hand.

“What the fuck would I do with those?”

She considered. “I heard they’re pretty good roasted.”

“What, like in an oven?” Shane was curious despite himself.

“I think? I mean, sunflower seeds are good, right? So I think it’d be like a big mouthful of them?” She examined the flowers. They looked bright and cheerful. Just like her.

Her hair was loose that day. She usually wore it pulled back.

Not that he kept track of that sort of thing.

“Ooooh, my sister loves those!” Emily was admiring the flowers, and the farmer’s attention left him. 

That was okay. It let him watch.

She leaned against the bar, showing off the flowers. So fucking cute, that farmer, all happy and proud. 

Would she have looked at him like that if he’d taken the peppers?

He took a long drink.

The way she was leaning stretched her back out long. A thin strip of skin was bare between her pants and shirt. He imagined running his mouth up the length of her spine, skin all smooth and soft. Imagined holding onto her hips, sinking his fingers into the soft flesh there, moving her back against him.

He shifted and took another drink. 

The farmer had one too now. Same beer as him. Must have been a long day. She usually had a beer after a long day. Less intense ones usually ended with wine or a cocktail. She’d been doing gin and tonics lately.

Not that he was paying attention.

She would sip at her drink, talk with whoever was nearby. It was incredible, the way she could strike up a conversation with anyone. He was never able to do that. Three words in and he was doubting himself. 

His eyes flicked to her breasts as she leaned forward to laugh at something Emily said. A quick glance. Just enough to see the way the bar pushed her up, gentle curves mounding above her neckline. He thought about pressing his mouth there, scraping his teeth against her skin. Grabbing at her breasts, pushing them together. Would she let him fuck them? What would they feel like, surrounding his cock?

Probably really fucking good.

The writer guy wouldn’t treat her like that.

He took a drink.

His glass was empty. 

“Hey, Em?” 

“Yep.” Emily was moving, refilling his glass.

“This one’s on me,” the farmer said. “Since it’s the only thing you like.”

“He likes peppers too,” Emily said, setting his glass down.

The farmer made a squawking sound. It was adorable. “I tried to give him peppers but he turned them down!”

“That’s because he’s very stupid,” Emily said evenly.

Shane raised his glass in agreement. His stomach was turning, shame filling up the corners. 

He shouldn’t care about getting caught in a lie.

It shouldn’t matter.

The farmer was switching seats, coming over to sit next to him.

“No,” he said flatly as she settled in.

“I bought you a beer, the least you could do is give me a complete sentence.” She was leaning on her elbow as she said it, body starting to soften. It usually did when she was more than halfway through her drink.

“No is a complete sentence.”

“Do you like peppers or not?” There was no sunshine in her voice when she spoke to him, he realized. There was a gentle directness, though, that made him feel entirely off balance.

“Does it matter?” He focused on his drink, and not the way her cheek looked so soft as it settled into her hand.

He wanted to be her hand.

“Yes,” she said simply. “So answer the question.”

Shane sighed. Studied his glass. There was a small chip on the rim. 

“Yeah, I like peppers.”

The farmer made a satisfied sound. Shane risked a glance at her. She was smiling, but not the big sunshiney one. It was smaller. Controlled. 

Sincere.

It felt like being let in on a secret.

“I have more. I’ll bring them tomorrow.” It wasn’t a discussion.

Shane wondered how much of her sunshine was an act.

“Don’t… don’t just… I don’t need your fucking peppers.”

“Well, what do you need?” Her gaze was level. 

Shane looked at his glass again. Spun it around with his fingertips. “Nothing from you,” he finally said.

Something in the farmer seemed to deflate. Shame boiled again, but then he realized he hadn’t punctured her. He’d relieved her. Taken some burden off her shoulders he hadn’t realized she carried.

“Thank Yoba,” she laughed, then took a long drink. “I swear I need a different personality for every person here.”

Shane made a quiet sound of acknowledgement. 

The farmer didn’t say anything else.

They sat together in silence, finishing their drinks.

It was nice. 

It was really, really fucking nice.

Shane began to realize he was doomed.

——————

The farmer pushed at the edges of Shane’s mind, a persistent pressure that fogged him over whenever he let his guard down.

Stocking cans of string beans? She was leaning over him, checking the nutrition label.

Walking over the bridge? She was sitting on the side, smiling that controlled little smile.

Watching a snack spin round in the microwave? She was behind him, talking to Jas, fitting into his life in a way that made him ache.

So he tried not to think about her.

It almost worked, except for when she was there at the saloon.

Laughing. Talking. Giving. Smiling.

And then he couldn’t not think about her. Couldn’t not acknowledge her. Couldn’t not follow her down whatever conversational path she wandered onto.

“It’s disgusting.” A flat refusal.

“She’s right.” Emily backed her up.

And Yoba help him, he was drawn in. “Get a more adventurous palate.”

“Pineapple on pizza isn’t adventurous. It’s blasphemy.” 

She was on her second beer now, body loose and leaning in a way that made him want to move, to press her back against the bar and see just how pliant she could be. 

He bet he could make her real pliant.

“It’s the contrast,” he tried to explain. He was on… was it drink five? They all started to blur together after a while. “The sweet and juice against the salty and chewy from the ham. They have to go together.”

“Yeah, in the fucking garbage.” There was a teasing brightness in her eyes. 

“Philistine,” he said. 

The farmer laughed.

That felt really, really good.

He took a gulping drink. 

The sound of her laughter followed him home.

Stumbling into his room, he heard it.

Shucking his pants, his jacket. Falling into bed. It surrounded him.

He’d made her laugh. Made her look surprised, happy. Made light come into her eyes.

He gave her something.

It was so good.

But there was so little room for good in his life.

There was no way to make her fit.

His mind spiraled. 

Her laugh. 

Her smile.

Her face.

Her hair.

Her body.

That, at least, was a safe enough place to let his mind rest. 

It didn’t hurt so much, to parse it in terms of sex. To fantasize and want. Darker and harder than her laugh and her smile.

The farmer, spread out beneath him.

Soft and giving.

He could grab at her, see the way her body molded to his hands. Feel her give way to him.

His hand found his cock.

What would she sound like, if he pressed at her breast with harsh fingers? Would she whimper? Cry out? Would she love it?

(yeah she’d love it she’d love it so fucking much, arch her back up into his hands and keen and moan and beg for more, fucking beg for his hands on her and…)

Her smile. Her fucking smile. That mouth and those lips and that tongue. Soft, had to be soft, would feel so good wrapped around his cock, sucking, taking him as he thrust down into her throat.

(she’d take it so good, he knew it, knew she’d groan around him and look up at him with those pretty eyes, tears at the corners while he grabbed at her hair, moved her head, made her choke on him and the whole time she’d keep those eyes on him, asking him for more…)

The tension in his body started to coil.

He worked himself faster.

Fast, like he’d move inside her. Put her on her hands and knees. Press a hand down hard on the small of her back, make her arch. Or, no, hips, those hips, that softness giving way to his fingers as he pulled her back. 

(she’d move, he’d make her move, make her tighten and gasp and shake, make her fingers claw at the blanket, the one that was under him right now, make her bite at the bedspread to keep from screaming, because he’d pull her in just right, just the way she needed [he knew she needed it, he knew, he knew he could give her just what she fucking needed], and she’d tense and tighten and tremble and squeeze and come and come and come and when she was done he’d make her do it again, just keep her there under him, around him, her hair and her neck and her eyes and her smile, smiling back at him as he pushed in hard and deep and…)

He came, a weak, unsatisfying thing.

He pressed a hand over her face.

He could still hear her laughing.

He wanted to hear her laugh.

What the fuck did he do now?

——————

That night the farmer had a bag with her.

A jar of pickles, for the doctor.

A bundle of wool, for Emily.

A bottle of wine, split between the writer and that chick who moved in near the ranch.

A bright, round orange for Gus.

Smiles all around, given and returned.

Nothing for him.

“On a scale of one to ten, how grouchy are you today?” She settled in next to him with a drink.

Shane didn't say anything, just shot her a tired look.

“Me too,” she said, and smiled. Controlled. Real.

“Wanna split some pepper poppers?” He’d said it without planning to, without thinking.

“Nah, I hate peppers.” She rested her head on her hand.

“Noted.”

He wanted to be her hand.

He wanted.

As a rule, Shane tried not to want things.

But some part of him, a traitorous vine, kept reaching for her light. And as they sat there in silence, a heaviness settled in.

There was no way this didn’t end in pain.

Sometimes it was better to cut things off before they’d had a chance to begin.

(Looking for a part 2? You got it. Find it here.)

Masterlist

[bwobgames]

Alright no more mushy feely heart-palpitating homosexual behavior.

There’s a cat on the loose.

He decides to go do a deeper check on the wagons, perhaps his little furball fell asleep somewhere!

At the entrance he sees some things that have fallen over and a slight amount of orange cat hair. Mighty suspicious.

He quickly rearranges the forgotten napkins and continues.

He smells something.

There’s an empty glass on one of the tables, it has an interesting smell. He can’t quite place it but he’s sure he knows that smell. Maybe from another case...?

There’s no liquid left, so he can’t test-taste it. Bummer. But it is a very faint smell...

The one time his heightened senses are useful, and he can’t remember.

Although he has a vague idea.

Hopefully it’s nothing bad. Hopefully nothing bad happened. Hopefully.

(...The feeling that something bad is going to happen...)

(No, no. No more horror movie quotes. This is not the time to make myself spooked for no reason)

Even if the oppressive feeling of the dark makes him feel otherwise.

He has dealt well with this. If he can’t see anyone, they can’t see him either. Darkness is a friend.

Except when Vivi is at home, then he leaves at the nightlights and the TV on, no matter the electricity bill.

Now that he things about it, this train would be a fantastic set for a horror movie, perhaps Nadia could-WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT

DID YOU SEE THAT SHIT?! WHAT WAS THAT?!

(…Am I… seeing things…?)

(No, no! No more of this! I am a professional! Not a scared bunny who will call Ángel at the slightest spooky trick of the light!)

(I am a man on a mission. An expert on both the natural and supernatural. I should be fearless by now!)

(No ghost, or man, or ghost man has been able to defeat me, and this will not be the day it does!)

He marches to the dinner wagon

"I! AM NOT! SCARED! I! AM NOT A-!"

He finds yet another small mess made by Firefox that he ignored last time for the bigger mess, but looking at it closely he sees…

A photograph?

Must be Vivi’s, unless any of the new guys are into analog cameras.

It’s blurry, by the colour palette it might be a picture from inside this train. Except for one little detail.

In between the blurriness, he sees a small bit of blue. A shade he has seen before.

…

He should ask Vivi tomorrow.

He arrives at his room, maybe Mozilla came back on his own?

But it’s just as empty as he left it, plus the signs of Ángel getting dressed.

As he leaves, he notices a few things.

His door feels… like it didn’t close properly. Could it be faulty? But it closed just fine before?

Secondly, it seems other doors are open too.

Nina and Mari’s room is slightly open, the lights are off. Are they just sleeping with the door opened?

Their new friends’ doors are slightly open as well. Odd, maybe Seba still hasn’t come back?

He won’t open them, of course. That’d be rude and creepy. Creppy, even.

What he does do is a slight pspspsps noise, to see if Firefox is inside any door.

He’s pretty sure he hears some sort of movement in the bathrooms when a familiar face comes over to him.

“Detective! Detective!”

“There’s a murderer on the train!”

<PREV START NEXT>

[aniesvision]

𐂃 𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝑴.𝑺

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒕𝒐𝒙𝒊𝒄 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑, 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒅𝒌

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒎 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚, 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆!!

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈

I wonder if he's busy or doesn't want to talk to me. It's been a week with little communication between me and Matt, ever since our last argument he made no effort to be present. Something so stupid, like forgetting to bring him the soda he asked for, and now we barely talk, even though we're dating.

I try to call him again, my hand shaky as I hold my phone against my ear.

-Hey! -I say, excited when I realized he picked up this time. -I was wondering if I could pass by your place later? I miss you.

I hear him sigh on the other side of the line and my heart immediately breaks, knowing it wasn't a good sign.

-Not today, I'm tired and I'm still upset with you, I need more time.

Oh. Of course, he needs time, that's totally fine...

He hangs up without even giving me a chance to talk. I sit on my bed, remembering the times we were so in love and happy with each other, talking for hours straight. When he used to text me to say how much he missed seeing me and we'd hang out the next day.

I keep crying oceans for him, and he keeps giving me reasons to believe I deserve to drown in my own tears.

"Good morning :)

I think you're busy these days since you're ignoring me, I don't know if you need more space, but can you please just let me know?"

I'm sure love's not supposed to feel like this. You don't own anyone's love if you have to beg for it. It's not fair to keep waiting for someone while he's out there probably not giving a fuck. I'm here worried, upset, feeling like shit, and he can't even text me. For days.

I can't help but think of all the signs and the amount of times he's let me down, how dumb I was to let him in. He broke my heart once before, and now he's doing it all over again and even knowing that he'll do the same I can't let him go.

Driving to his place unannounced was probably the worst mistake I've ever made, but I needed answers and if he refused to talk to me through the phone I'd make him talk to me in person. I knock on the door, his tired eyes staring at my swollen ones for the first time in two weeks.

-Are you okay? -I ask, noticing how his features didn't look as carefree and peaceful as they used to.

-I'm fine. -He says, tone firm and arrogant.

It was clear he didn't expect me to be there, and he didn't like it. I tried to talk to him, asked so many questions, followed him around like a lost puppy, cried, and begged for anything, for him to share any thoughts or feelings.

His scent filled my nostrils, giving me a weird sense of familiarity, his sad eyes looking at mine, but it felt like I was staring at a cold wall.

He hugged me, without saying anything, and my shoulders dropped, my heart melting at the slight show of affection. I take deep breaths, letting my eyes close as I try to regain my posture.

Is it insane? Letting him in again when he gives me so little? Letting him break me whenever he wants?

It must be nice to have someone like this, who loves another so much that let them break their hearts twice.

➪ @riowritesitall @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @deers4luv @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @faithlia @katie-tibo @monroesturnns @chrisxcherry @shaquilles-0atmeal @fratbrochrisgf @dayzeandhaze @h3arts4harry @star-yawnznn @asherrisrandom @pip4444chris @sturniolo-fann @beansprout713 @conspiracy-ash @sturnsxbitvh @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @larallott @stqrnlvs @sssoniaswiftt @s1ut4chris @lovingregulusblack @sturnslutz @star-yawnznn @jupiter-rebel @courta13 @emely9274 @blahblahblahm

[sadbigemini]

So, to start off, Happy Pride! And I'm here with more MHA shit. We have ourselves a long one today. I have nothing else to say, let's get into it!

First, Just Some Tidbits You Can Add To Fics

Midnight's persona is so ingrained in her that she forgot and didn't think of how that would affect her students or how they would feel about it

The class is super close and trauma bonded. They find comfort in each other after nightmares, they help each other with panic attacks, with flashbacks, etc. Aizawa lets them break the not staying in each other's dorms rule bc of it

Dadzawa offers his capture weapon to comfort his kids/students like a weighted blanket

Where Aizawa was a vigilante before he got into the hero course

Dadzawa sees the Three Dumbingos in Midoriya, Bakugou, and Todoroki or Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima or a combination of the two lol

Quirk accidents are a common occurrence, especially In stressful or highly emotional situations. Regardless of age, though probably more common in children

Roki has a slight phobia of fire

Midoriya Hisashi as a good dad bc their isn't enough fics with it that way

A Whole Lotta Smallish Fic Prompts

Villain/Vigilante EraserMic(Cloud?) ‘adopting’ a bunch of kiddos that need homes. And creating an army against the HPSC. They'll be like the mob lol

MHA group home AU ran by you guessed it EraserMic or by Nezu and they're just caretakers

Todoroki Shouto gets OFA and is mentored by Good!All Might. It's mostly to piss off his sperm-donor but also because he is a secret AM fanboy

Sentient quirks, whether that's expanding on Tokoyami and Dark Shadow or giving someone else a sentient quirk too

Jirou knows about OFA. She overheard the knowledge of All Might's no might form and OFA, his quirk, with her own quirk. Not purposely ofc

Mido with a pyrokinesis quirk! Which has been done before but not enough! Mido's kinda a pyromaniac... Was he born with it? Did it manifest when he was four? Did it manifest much later and he was thought to be quirkless?

Sero with a cartoon physics quirk. Vigilante. Named Toons? He also listens to some tunes on patrol lol I think he'd love puns ngl. Pranks, an ungodly amount of pranks. So bad endeawhore will be sobbing in the aftermath. SeroRoki besties.

Chisaki Izuku. Mido as Chisaki Kai’s younger brother. Has an Activation and Deactivation quirk (Superpower wiki for more info). Anything he touches that can turn on and off he can turn them on and off, quirks to bodily functions (kinda the same thing I think lol) to technology. He defies Overhaul at every turn bc of Eri. He escapes with Eri and is found by Aizawa. Dadzawa, PapaMic

Shirakumo Oboro is reincarnated into one Toogata Mirio. Shirakumo Oboro died on July 15th (I think he died around this time but the timeline isn't that clear) and on the same day Toogata Mirio was born. Okay, but if I remember correctly Shirakumo was made to give Aizawa a friend like Mirio is to Amajiki. So, like it's literally perfect lol– ah! But the ages, he died 13/14 years ago and Mirio is like 18. Sooo???

Someone give Sero, our resident tape dispenser, OFA, so he can have Danger Spidey Sense. Ig there's Black Whip too, which would help with mobility. A bit like Spider-Man’s Iron Spider Armor/Suit. Sero would be living his little Spider-Man fanboy dream!

Hatsume Mei being Nezu's only personal student. The chaos– the shenanigans, the hijinks they would get into! This could just be pure crack but I think some of you could put a serious spin on this.

MHA/Soul Eater crossover. Think more MHA and heroes than Soul Eater or finding a way to mesh the lore well enough

Aizawa infiltrates the LOV and redeems them

More class B and Shiketsu fics

Shiketsu AU. Quirkless Midoriya accepted? Monoma will be there and his class B is better shtick, now Shiketsu is better shtick. Shinsou there too?? Camie helps them find their class on the first day

Jirou as MC with medical training and a quirk called Body Manipulation (look on Superpower wiki for more info). Vigilante armed with a Monster High metal bat (I think Jirou, Mina, and Toga would love Monster High). Operator is her vigilante name. Fellow vigilante and partner in crime Toga Himiko. Toga has a blood portal quirk. Vigilante name Transfusion. The two act as paramedics for an underground hospital. Future Proteges of Recovery Girl. And it's pride month so maybe you can do a rare pair with those two, Jirou/Toga

Aizawa is practically adopted by the Midoriyas! All the Midoriyas either see him at the park, cat cafe, or they share the same train sometimes. Quirkless Midoriya Izuku or he helps him with OFA. Aizawa teaches Bakugou how to control his anger and that quirkless doesn't mean useless. So, no bullying! Pining EraserMic! Aizawa kinda becomes like the Midoriya adults’ younger brother while he's like an uncle to the youngest

Twice-Centric fic. Twice is Mic's CI (and friend) who infiltrates the LOV for him

Technomancer. Mido has a technopathy and mental continuation quirk (again Superpower wiki). Mido commits sewerslide and gets this quirk (they are mixed into one). He is a tech/electro ghost, he's kinda like an AI. Now he helps different heroes especially his favorites like Eraserhead and Present Mic. But also his favorite vigilante Kaminari?? Tokoyami?? Tokage?? Roki??? His hero and vigilante name is Technomancer. Takes over the HPSC?? Nezu is intrigued by him immediately ofc. Our beloved Power Loader loves him. Absolutely loves him they work on support gear projects together. Hatsume and Power Loader can make him a robot body to possess basically!!!

Oh, How The Tables Have Turned (and how you have turned on each other): This AU(?) is lots of world building fun. A fic about how the quirked were first oppressed heavily by the quirkless and how the roles swapped. How there still is quirk discrimination but now it's more the quirked against each other than another oppressor. How quirks are everything in society now.

A Couple Quirk Ideas

Add Insult To Injury. Insult Empowerment. The quirk allows the user to get stronger when insulted. Talk shit, get hit

True Self Recognition Quirk (again Superpower wiki for both)

One Big One For The Road (Midoriya Tears™ is a quirk)

Midoriya can manipulate them from the volume to the strength to where they go. He needs to drink lots of water and will get dehydrated with quirk overuse

Mido thought he was quirkless because his mom has a secondary passive quirk that's very similar to him. That many other family members have possessed. Hence the Midoriya Tears term. And maybe he is a false negative for quirklessness

BUT HOW DID NOBODY ACCOUNT FOR IT BEING A QUIRK?!! I'LL TELL YOU–!!

–because everyone heard quirkless and that's all they paid attention to. Also the Midoriya Tears are very much a reoccurring trait with various power levels. The person who originally had the quirk was from ages ago– maybe at the dawn of quirks? And it steadily appeared or didn't and was still passed on to the next regardless.

Obviously our Mido’s quirk is the strongest version yet bc MC privilege lmao. And no one knew bc he obviously never trained it. Why would he when he thinks he's quirkless? And it's just a ‘Midoriya thing’. ALSO plot armor lol

Maybe Bakugou guesses but everyone is like, 'your delusional.' and then he's like, ‘Deku is still delusional even if he has a quirk!’?

Or good Bakugou from the start who is driven crazy trying to convince his best friend he has a quirk while scaring his bullies away as he tries to get him to stand up for himself too??

In this fic please give Sero, our beloved tape dispenser, OFA, so he can live his truth and have his little Spider-Man fanboy dream!

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower, Chapter 21

Chapter warnings: Drinking, mentions of a condom- wrap it before you tap it, even when you're shit faced drunk but remember kids, you can't technically consent irl when you're fucking wasted.

AN: I have edited the rest of the chapters for this thing. It is taking impressive self control to not dump the like 15 remaining chapters. Be proud of me. We've started outlining book two now here at Kit's Maddness.

Masterlist Kofi AO3

Tom made popcorn while he waited for Mia to change. Sure, there was a solid chance she’d come back and continue to give him the scolding that he knew, in hindsight, he deserved but he would make it up to her. 

It was cheesy, he knew but he had blankets and drinks set out as the shower ran. Nothing strong enough to make them drowsy but hopefully wine would be enough to loosen her up and help conversation flow.

Candles were lit and the lights were all dimmed low. He was gambling, he knew that. He’d already fucked shit up once today. It seemed like gambling was what he was always going to do when he came to Vegas. 

It wasn’t a card table or a slot machine he gambled at though, it was love. The prize was the biggest jackpot of all- more than he ever thought he needed. 

“Oh, wow.” Mia’s eyes scanned the dim room as her towel dried hair dripped down her back. 

She was not expecting something like this. Considering Tom was already in his tee and sweat pants, she expected something casual and low effort. Just existing in the same space, doing their own thing and being together. 

This was certainly casual but far from low effort. Tom would have had to have the candles all over the apartment delivered though she wasn’t sure who or how he could manage that on such short notice. Had he been planning this for longer than she had thought? Mia didn’t know where the wine came from though. Could wine be delivered? Perhaps it was from the small store within the complex. She couldn’t be sure, she rarely purchased wine herself. 

“Surprise?” Tom held his hand out to her. “Could I have the honor of taking you in on a date?”

“In on a date?” Mia was sure her brain had to already be shutting down for the night. His sentence made little sense. 

“Well, we’re not going out on a date since we’re staying in. So, ‘in on a date’?” Oh, he thought he was cleaver. The smile on his face showed how proud of himself he was for coming up with that line.

“You’re such a dork.” Mia laughed as she gave him her hand. 

She had gotten more comfortable with his light touches of affection at some point. When exactly it happened, she couldn’t begin to say. They were a part of having Tom near. 

She struggled to initiate them herself but she was beginning to look forward to his slight touches. It was still overwhelming to know that he was so comfortable holding her hand, let alone how he would drape his arm around her waist or run his hand across her back as he moved around her. Hell, it was overwhelming just that he wanted to hold her hand.

But he was in it for the long haul. Or at least to see if the long haul was possible. 

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.” There had never been a man in Mia’s life who would have gone through all this trouble just for her. The amount of time, effort and planning he had spent. 

“We’ve got wine, popcorn and your choice of movie.” Tom said, leading her toward the couch.

Two of her throw blankets were draped on either side. She appreciated the thought. Tom didn’t assume that she would want to share blankets, cautious and respectful of her comfort. 

He had his laptop hooked up to the TV, screen half open and Netflix waiting for them to make a selection. The binder full of her DVD’s was sitting on the table and he waited for her to provide direction. 

“What if I want to watch something with you in it?” Mia teased.

“We’ll then you’re out of luck.” Tom laughed. “I’m not on Netflix.”

They picked older comedy off the Netflix catalogs. Something funny with a touch of romance. Tom didn’t seem to mind the lack of action and the romantic undertones, not issuing a single complaint much to Mia’s surprise. 

Was that because he actually liked those kinds of movies or was it simply because it fit the mood he had set? She didn’t know. 

It had been two and a half weeks since they had married. It had been a strange two and a half weeks. But they had come far in their relationship. She was comfortable thinking of him as a friend at the least. She could even see him as more than a friend but if she was asked to define what that meant, she couldn’t say. 

This wasn’t the type of evening friends set up for eachother though. This was something more. It was romantic and special. This was more than friends.

They sat close together on the couch, thighs just touching and legs stretched out on the coffee table in front of them. The each had their own lap blanket and the popcorn bowl was balanced in Tom’s lap.

It was romantic and yet comfortable in the flickering light of the candles as midnight quickly approached. Mia had expected Tom to be on his phone, tending to whatever business he had to deal with on the other side of the ocean but he ignored every little ping and buzz that sounded from the device. His eyes hardly glanced to it when the screen would light up, balanced on the arm of the couch.

It was the dedicated attention that Mia appreciated most of all. She couldn’t remember the last time any man had given her his whole attention for such an extended period of time, especially when it wasn’t really needed. That, along with the effort made him so dangerously unlike any other man she had spent time with. 

Mia eventually found herself sitting up straight, legs crisscrossed and popcorn bowl in her lap. It was nearing midnight and she needed to stay up at least another two hours but it was starting to get hard to keep her mind from floating away on the fog of sleep.

The romantic movie had been switched out for some horror thriller, nothing with a lot of gore but something to hopefully keep her awake. Mia liked scary but she did not like slasher bloody. It was something that was getting harder and harder to find as years went by. 

Tom was less comfortable with this choice. He wasn’t a man she would have thought not to like a horror movie but he was full of surprises, wasn’t he?

She flinched into Tom, grabbing his arm at the latest jump scare. Swears fell from her lips as she tried to calm her heart. Being as tired as she was, it made her far easier to startle. The fact that they’d shared a few glasses of wine didn’t help.

Tom couldn’t help but laugh at her. “You picked this movie.”

“It’s keeping me awake, isn’t it?” Mia countered. 

“We could watch something else?” Tom offered, leaning into her for a moment.

Mia glared at him as he lounged back, relaxed on the couch as if he belonged there. When she let go of his arm, he stretched it out along the back of the couch. 

“Why, are you scared?” Mia teased. 

“No, darling. That would be you.” 

They continued the movie, each dedicated to seeing it through though both finding themselves jumping here and there. Eventually, Mia leaned into his side. 

Tom didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure she even noticed as she began to relax into him. It felt like he was being cuddled by a wild animal, if he just breathed wrong perhaps he would scare her away.

The movie was reaching it’s climax. The jump scares were coming faster now and the next big one sent Mia’s face right into his chest to hide. Tom flinched from the scare as well, arm jerking down off the back of the couch and pushing her closer to him. 

It was a weird natural reflex. What did his brain hope to accomplish by it? Hide behind her? Protect her? 

“Okay, okay. I think that’s enough of that.” Mia had fistfuls of his cotton shirt clutched in her hands as she peeked at the TV. 

“It’s just about over.” Tom rubbed her back. “We can make it.”

He had feared she would move away from him again as they returned to the movie but she didn’t. Instead, her head rested on his chest and her legs curled up under her. He didn’t mind at all that her knees were resting on his thighs.

It had been a long time since he had been cuddled on a couch while watching a movie. It was something simple but god, he hadn’t realized how badly he missed receiving such simple affections. 

Sophia hadn’t been much for cuddling in the last few months of their relationship. She hadn’t been much for him at all, if he was honest. There had been no room left for affection after the smothering pressure of her career and his, the press and prying eyes. 

It was with Mia he learned the appeal of dating someone outside of his world. He had always thought it was best to stay within his career for dating prospects but no, what he didn’t know he needed was something normal. 

“We made it through!” Mia said, he head still resting on his chest. 

Tom’s eyes flicked up to the screen where the credits had begun to roll. He had been stuck in his head and missed the last of the movie. 

“Indeed we did.” He said, gazing down at her. “Is it late enough or do we need to pick another?”

Mia looked up at him, shifting her weight and pulling away slightly to do so. She was shocked to find his face right there, looking down at her. Their faces were so close, lit by the TV and the candles. 

“I’m not sure.” It was hard to think. Looking into those blue eyes so close made her brain short circuit. “Thank you, Tom. This is nice.”

“This is nice.” He agreed, rubbing his hand down her back.

His lips were thin, something she wouldn’t usually find attractive in a man but they fit him in a way she couldn’t explain. Her eyes flicked between features, taking in how the different lights played over his high cheekbones and defined nose. 

He was beautiful but not in a overly perfect way. Humanity was etched into his face and his actions. Sure, he could be a bit full of himself at times but he was always willing to make a joke at his own expense. 

She wasn’t able to think about his cheekbones or eyes anymore though. Her brain wasn’t able to do much of anything at all when his soft lips brushed against hers.. 

It was careful and slight, evaluating her response. Pulling away for a short moment, he waited for her to push him away as his heart hammered in his chest. This wasn’t a hug or a hand holding but the moment seemed right. 

When she failed to pull away, instead continued leaning into him, he kissed her again. There was less hesitation in this kiss. The contact between their lips was firm but not harsh. 

She supported her weight with a hand on the couch cushion though her other hand still rested on his chest. Under her finger tips, his heart beat a million miles an hour. 

Her lips moved against his, following his lead. As he leaned into her, he pulled her to him with the hand that had been rubbing her back. Shifting his weight, he turned to face her. His other hand cupped her cheek tenderly, long fingers curling around her jaw and into the hair below her ear. 

Their first kiss, at least the first kiss that counted tasted like popcorn salt and butter.

Tom stood, shucking his towsers off his legs, doing his best not to fall over in the process. There was a champagne bottle sitting in a partially melted bucket of ice on the dresser. Grabbing it, he popped the top and scooped up the two long stemmed glasses next to it. 

The hotel had provided the bottle as a gift for their marriage, likely arranged as soon as they booked the wedding chapel. Tom poured the glasses and set the bottle back down. 

She had sat up while she waited for him. There was a blush on her cheeks as she greedily took in his naked form. That was a view he promised himself he would never forget regardless of how drunk he was. 

Tom downed his glass shamelessly. He didn’t give her a chance to finish her glass as he crashed his lips into hers. She kissed him fiercely back, not sparing a thought to the liquid in her glass, spilling on her and the bed. 

Tom had her on her back and the glass was long forgotten. His hands were on her. It felt like he was everywhere, she was surrounded by him. She was drowning in her need for him. 

“Condom.” She struggled to have the breath to speak, trying to cling to some sort of sense through her need. “We need a condom.”

Tag List: @winterisakiller @alexakeyloveloki @jennyggggrrr @dangertoozmanykids101 @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @kats72 @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @soulpiercing @evedia @princess-ofthe-pages

Leave me a note with your thoughts! Comments and reblogs both are loved. Pay attention to me? I'm a needy plant...

[positivelybeastly]

Sometimes I feel like beast gets treated more harshly for some things than other characters are for almost identical actions. The time travel stuff especially, but the collective actions of the Illuminati as well

Heh. You know, it's funny, I was literally just grabbing a cap of some Stuart Immonen art from All-New X-Men #2, of a really pretty X-Jet, and, because I'm a glutton for punishment, I clicked the comments. Do you wanna read them? No? Too bad, I had to read them, so now, so do you.

"Hank is so self-absorbed it's incredible. No wonder the Watcher thinks he's garbage."

"Also, i think Beast should be lobotomized for his crimes against children and the space/time continuum."

"That said: f**k you, Hank. You are so weak and arrogant that you would risk destroying your oldest and dearest friends because you can't handle Scott helping mutants? You risk destroying the timeline and destroying your friends' relationships and their very minds and spirits."

Like . . . fuck, man.

It really is all just Bendis' fault. He made Hank do something so mind-numbingly stupid, and it was presented slap bang in people's faces, and LITERALLY NO-ONE stopped to question if it was even in-character for him to do this.

It wasn't, by the way.

Be warned, disturbingly hot, smart, and urbane Hank McCoy incoming.

OH HEY.

LOOK.

IT'S ALMOST LIKE HANK'S FUCKING SMART OR SOMETHING.

I JUST.

GET.

SO.

FUCKING.

ANGRY.

THE MAN IS FUCKING SMART. And then Bendis just has him do something so mind-numbingly stupid, and no-one even blinks an eye at whether or not it even made sense for him to do it.

And do you know what makes me fucking laugh? Is that other writers were actively mocking the plotlines as they were going on, but because so many comics readers are as dumb as fucking rocks, they didn't even realise.

Oh yeah, it IS almost as if people in the Marvel Universe regularly fuck the timestream without taking it for dinner or applying lube, I almost fucking forgot! But because Bendis decides that there are ramifications this time, suddenly Hank is the destroyer of all of space time.

Which of the three is it? Was this something that was always meant to happen, or not? If this is something that can happen when you meddle with space-time, why did Hank do it? Why? Is? Bendis-Hank? So? Fucking? DUMB???

And you know what, I need to bring this up, because LITERALLY FUCKING NO-ONE ELSE IN THE FANDOM EVER WILL

This was not a decision he made in his right mind? He was dying? His brain is seizing? He's having heart palpitations, in agonising pain, his mentor is dead and one of his oldest friends was the one who killed him, and he's in such a depressive spiral that he doesn't even want to tell the people around him that he's dying because he doesn't want to worry them.

But no, this is a decision that we're never, ever, ever going to let Hank live down. In fact, this decision is SO AWFUL THAT

Fucking blow me.

I know that I'm, like, seemingly the one X-Men fan that actually reads fucking comic books rather than going off panels I see posted on Twitter (this slight is aimed mostly at Reddit, not here, don't worry), but, like . . . god, I'm just so fucking furious that I had to sit, and watch a targeted character assassination, in real time, of my favourite character, and the fandom just fucking lapped it up.

Even now, the era from the end of Avengers vs. X-Men to Krakoa is called the Lost Era in mutant history. There are SO MANY THINGS that have been completely forgotten.

Hey, remember when Emma Frost did this?

Oh yeah, what consequences did she face for this?

Nothing?

The amount of shit that sticks to Hank makes me fucking sick. Everyone gets a pass for what they did, except for Hank.

The New Avengers/Illuminati stuff is the one that gets my goat, because do you know how Hank spent that time?

Buckle the fuck in.

Hank lacks the constitution for hard decisions.

Hank believes in the power of good men to change the world with ideals.

Hank will take the coward's way out, every time. The way that saves lives.

Hank will spend the time to talk, every time.

"We should help if we can. How could we not?"

Oh hey, Bruce Banner, I think everyone kinda forgot you were in this Illuminati too and you get a free pass!

Interesting.

Hmmmmm.

That last one REALLY makes me laugh because it really does just kinda read to me as Hickman pointing out that Hank's actions in All-New X-Men make no fucking sense.

And Hank has to just.

Sit there.

And take it.

And every.

Single.

Time.

Someone tries to put him back on the path to being who he is meant to be, some.

Fucking.

Jack-off.

Ruins it again.

Shit sticks to Hank like it doesn't stick to anyone else.

I'm fucking sick of it.

I ain't even touching the Percy stuff. That's just - phwaoooooah. Not to mention, I'm out of images.

Just sucks, man.

Just sucks.

[frankenjoly]

What about platonic Yosano + Tachihara w/ "I won't let anything happen to you"

When everything had gotten back to normal…ish, he had passed out. Which made sense, to be fair.

Yosano had made a point to keep an eye on him while tending to everyone else too, and so she was close when Tachihara finally woke up, pulling down with a hand slightly pressed against his shoulder so he wouldn’t move before listening to her.

“I’d sit up slowly if I were you, honestly.” It wasn’t until he nodded when she let him go. “After all, you’d been knocked out for a while.”

“What the fuck…”

“Also, I know I’m like, the last person you’d like to see right now. But trust me, I won’t let anything happen to you.” Right after making sure he was completely fine in terms of physical health and mental functions, Akiko moved away a little; partly because her work wasn’t done yet and she would have to keep getting ready to get going, partly in order to leave him some space.

“After I took part in chasin’ you down and held you at gunpoint?” The fact that he seemed genuinely confused was somewhat amusing, actually.

“You didn’t shoot me in the end.” She answered, shrugging. “And since I basically snitched on you later, we’re kinda even, aren’t we?”

“I mean, fair enough.” Tachihara shrugged too. “Not like I counted on foolin’ the boss forever anyway. He’d at least gotta know who my brother was even before shit went down.”

“I don’t doubt he remembers more than me, so yeah.” Because a lot of her memories from the war were very foggy, because an adult’s mind would be more prone to retain information. “Can’t say shit about you blaming me, by the way.” Yosano let out a brief sigh. “Most did. Me too.” She then shook her head, as if trying to keep those thoughts at bay before they threatened to stay. “Shunzen talked a lot about you, that I won’t forget.”

“Really?” There was a slight smile on Tachihara’s face when he asked, and it didn’t take long for her to mirror the gesture.

“Mhm. Barely mentioned your parents, but you? His face lit up when mentioning his little brother.”

To honor the truth, not even both their memories of him combined would amount much in terms of quantity. But that didn’t mean lack of quality either, and even if it was the case… they seemed more than willing to make do with what they had no matter what.

(Also on ao3.)

[bakafurai]

ooooo you wanna tell me about your ocs so bad ooooo

it wasn't until i got this ask that i realised oh shit i have. a lot of ocs,,,

ANYWAYS,,, i've decided i will now talk about my ocs ethos, pathos and logos :3 putting it under a read more bc. I like to ramble haha,,,

little backstory time: these three are actually one of my oldest ocs dating from.... late 2017 I think? I remember it was during my Sanders Sides brainrot era (it's a youtube series by thomas sanders that is very good i def recommend it), i was watching on the behind the scenes videos and they mentioned Ethos, Pathos and Logos and i thought "oh that sounds neat" and looked up and then boom. ocs where made...god they were sooo different back then, my oc lore has gone through many changes XD

oh here are the name meanings btw (taken of this site bc i am terrible at describing things lmao)

My human drawing skills has gotten better since I made this but the designs stay roughly the same so here they are!!

for slight context: they are fairies (not the typical kind you see in fantasy though), they come in all sorts of colours (passed down genetically and each of them have special abilities they get from around 6 or 7 years old, kinda similar to MHA's quirks in a way (I made this up before i got into mha btw), it starts to develop for them at the age of 4, where a symbol shows up on their bodies, when a fairy gets older they'll learn the ability to hide this symbol if they so wish (otherwise it's shown through clothing, though this act is not the most common). And yes they do have things but are generally pretty tiny (but powerful enough to let them fly for a decent for time), there are some who have larger pair of wings (this is. a whole other can of worms relating to the in universe magic that i won't go into too much details here haha), but short wings double wings are the norm (nobody has a set of 4 of wings, just 2, there is an exception but again is another can of worms haha).

uhh that's about it i think? there's some random slightly unrelated stuff like they can summon a shield or bladed weapon via their symbols (developed in the same sense as their magic, but comes along later when they are like 15 or so). also they can glow in the dark ig (except for fairies with darker colours, like black or dark grey, but these coloured fairies aren't the most common.)

They're able to cover their whole body with a pretty tough metal to protect themselves, sometimes spikes will come out (they cannot control this.), also they coincidentally have a circular shield they can summon and grow at will.

OOPS I DID NOT MEAN TO GO OFF ON THAT LMAO ANYWAYS ACTUAL OC TALK TIME DFGHDJD

I'll start with Ethos first: Ethos is non-binary, aroace and 20 years old (at the time of their first appearance). they live in an apartment in what i can only describe as the fairy version of england with their childhood best friend Pathos (who i will get to in a min).

Ethos is currently studying to become a defence lawyer. They're generally a pacifist and try not to take sides (ironic i know, it was Pathos who encouraged them to go for it), that being said they can be sassy if allowed- generally it's when they're at home with Pathos or their qpp (they don't have a name and design yet but i'm working on it). Ethos and Pathos have known each other since they were kids, and Pathos was the first person Ethos came out as non-binary too, and in general Pathos is kind of like a brother to them.

Next up is Pathos my silly little guy!!! Pathos is cis male, pan, and also 20 years old. As mentioned previously, he and Ethos are roommates and childhood best friends so i won't get too much into it. oh also he has undiagnosed adhd.

Pathos is,,, a special case in terms of magic abilities, they were born with a unnaturally large amount of excess magic (which is. another can of worms. hm.), without going into too much detail. by normal means Pathos has empathic abilities, when they turn it on it shows up as different colours depending on the emotions, he's able to sense it similarly even with his eyes close so he can use it as a second pair of eyes if he wants to. With enough concertation he can extend the area he's able to detect emotions, but he tries not to that too much because it can be overwhelming for him (or at worse it will turn into full on telepathy he has no control over).

If someone's emotion is strong enough it will show up as a glow around that person for Pathos, it can overwhelm Pathos if he actually activates his ability. The excess magic generally comes into play when he feels too strongly, his colours will change and he will gain another ability (ei; anger will make him turn red, and will gain pyrokinetic abilities. the angrier he gets the more monster like his body also gets, generally he gets fangs, a devil tail and smoke will come out of his mouth, but over time his hands/feet will turn into claws, his fangs n horns will grow, his body heat will grow hotter and the smoke will become more intense. that's definitely an extreme case, a more lighter one would be turning yellow when he's overjoyed/excited and gets a pleasant warm aura around him).

Pathos has a bladed weapon he can summon, but i haven't decided on what yet (it hasn't really come up in my stories yet), Pathos is a strong fighter, has been trained in martial arts since he was 11 to defend Ethos and other classmates from some bullies (fairies are generally very accepting and kind but it takes some time for some young kids to learn these things).

Pathos, when he's not doing martial arts, studies animal care- his class each have assigned animals they care for on the side based on their abilities. Pathos cares for a mother earth dragon and her 3 young ones, Dragons in this universe are heavily sensitive to emotions of others so generally Pathos' abilities comes in handy. Dragons in protective care in this planet and it is considered illegal to hunt them- this doesn't stop poachers from other planets to sneak in (pathos has managed to stop them a numerous amount of times,). Pathos is also unnaturally talented at flight despite his average sized small wings (doctors believe it may be due to the excess magic he has)

oh fuck i have no talked about his personality yet damn uhhh. Pathos is super friendly and all over the place, a big lover of food/baked goods, and is very good at making friends. Being an empath he's very quick to pick up emotions of others and if they are uncomfortable or not, which makes me a pretty easy guy to go to for a lot of fairies who know him. A huge lover of hoodies and sometimes gifts close friends hoodies, also he has a pet pigeon named "Buddy" whomst he loves very much.

LASTLY WE HAVE LOGOS,,, god I have rambled so much lmao,,,

Logos! She's not actually fairy, and more so an android made to look like one. Her body is genderless but her AI is set to female so she uses she/her pronouns. Logos was created to assist the queen of what i will for now be calling faeland (basically fairy england,,, fairy uk,, the planet is a lot like earth in many ways), originally she was grey with no ounce of emotions but the queen thought that was sad so she used her magic (not fae magic, sorry this is another can of worms) to give her the ability to feel. Logos' "brain" is connected wirelessly to a large internet archive holder owned by another oc that is connect to a lot of places- due to this she has access to an enormous amount of information (fun fact: originally she was all knowing but this concept became to confusing to me so i changed it. this might not make that much sense either in terms of logic but i wrote this bit when i was like 17 i think so uh. shoosh ig.) to which she uses in a large variety of ways.

Her look as seen from above is her more casual look, the hoodie was a gift from Pathos, she uses in day to day activities- including detective/police work, being an informant for the queen, assisting the queen in her tasks in general. However some may know her as the one-man-army knight general of the queen, she can shift to a more knight like look when she fights, there are plenty of soldiers around but Logos could probably hand a large amount of enemies by herself.

Speaking of fighting! As she is not actual fairy she is not born with magic or a weapon- instead she has a katana stored in her body symbol that glows to give off the effect of a regular fairy summoning a weapon. After the queen fused some magic in her body, she has been able to let out electricity from her body (she does this only in dire situations, but at most she might use it to taze someone if needed), her symbol also oddly shows up through her clothing but works the same way as before.

Personality wise, Logos is somewhat stoic and logical, but is perfectly able to read the room. Her eyes will change colour if she feels something strongly (it is a magic user thing), but it doesn't happen often. Generally speaking Logos is one of the few emotionally stable characters I have. When Logos is with Pathos she often ends up become his babysitter or having to stop him acting on impulse, she also becomes a grounding presence for him as she learns more about him and helps him through some of his mental health issues when they come up. Logos come off as cold but she's decently friendly and kind hearted, she just has a resting serious face.

aaand that's about it I think????? wow I sure rambled a lot lmao it's been what. about 2 hours????? since i started typing??? whoops

[hellsrebellion]

'Stay.'

It wasn't a command. And Roman was once again reminded that this version of Camilla both confused and terrified him. Rather than demanding with harshness, it's a gentle plea within her soft voice. Had there been some sort of domineering tone to it, he might've just offered some muttered excuse as to why he needed to go.

He was busy-- and he didn't necessarily need rest or sleep like she did. It was optional; although his meat suit certainly would've appreciated it. Not that there was anyone in there with needs, he'd made sure of that. It had been more on the front of selfishness than him having some 'sanctity of human life' bullshit.

'You can pretend and act like you're so different from the others, but how good can you be? You're holding someone hostage inside their own body right now, you're no better.' Roman still remembered a time not too long ago when she'd looked at him with disgust and voiced her disdain for him.

Her words like daggers, sharp with the intention to cut him up.

"Meat suit was already dead." He'd retorted flatly, turning back to face her after nearly leaving Singer's because he 'didn't need this shit'. Not knowing why he even felt the need to whip around explaining himself to her- as if he needed to. He could've just left despite the tether, then it would've been on her to call him back if she wanted to continue throwing verbal punches. Remind him of what he was, the hatred she harbored toward him. "Gunshot victim.. he'd already been beamed up, Scotty…he'd flatlined, they called time- lights out. There ain't nobody in here with me." His words had been spit with the same amount of venom, "So.. got anything else you wanna reem me for.. or we done for now?"

At the time, Roman had just accepted they'd never be able to see beyond black eyes and soullessness-- she'd always circle right back around to what he was despite his intentions. When Camilla had been of her own judgement Roman remembered her trying to reason with the Winchesters and Singer that he'd gain nothing from lying to them about what he knew. She hadn't known he'd been listening, but he had. As long as she had Dean in her's, that animosity would remain.. they were the only family that she had left. She'd never do anything to compromise that.. especially side with a demon.

"Look--we don't gotta get along, don't even gotta speak to one another 'less we have to. I'm just intel, can leave all the personal shit out of the equation.. I tell you what I know, you do with that information what you will. Call me here, just make sure it's need-to-know basis.. Dean can bottle his noise up 'til this is over and take me out for what Azazel did to his family after- we all got bigger problems right now."

It hadn't been some lifetime ago-- they'd still only known one another for a few months now. Which is why it was unnerving how quickly she'd become something.. important to him. He did care what she thought of him, had wanted her trust and that sense of longing he'd been grappling with never faded out, it only grew the longer he was around her.

Roman's expression softens on her in slight at the singular word, shifting his weight in his worn combats as those doe eyes search his own. He swallows and nods, barely detectable.

"Alright.." he says quietly to her, his low and deep voice in that uncharacteristically gentle tone- the one he only ever held with her when she got like this. Confusing, infuritating.. he didn't know which it was more of anymore.

Once again he just finds himself full of excuses. They were states away from the Winchesters, Bobby, Ellen, that weapon stash, her books.. anything she had that could've protected her or evened the odds should anyone downstairs have caught wind that she was alone in the city, and taken their chances trying to catch her off guard.

He had to stay.. to keep her safe.

But deep down, he knows better. Those hex bags kept her invisible-- nobody had any idea where she was; wouldn't have been able to sniff her out if they tried and at the moment Caim and the others' priorities were more focused on the bigger picture. As satisfying as it would've been to take the last remaining Remington out for them, they wouldn't be seeking her out. The only thing that was keeping him in that hotel room with her was his desire to be there.

She'd just handed the excuse to him, by asking for him to stay.

Roman's dark orbs linger down on her when he goes to pass by, his shoulder brushing against her own as he strides over to one of the beds to sit down on the foot of it with an exhale. Unsure of what to do then. It would've been less uncomfortable gargling holy water than it was trying to do this little song and dance, pretend like what was going on wasn't going on.

"Should've picked up some cards.. or.. Monopoly or somethin'.." he finally mumbles, sniffing and lifting his gaze to her. His head of unruly hair shakes once as his gaze flicks away from her again; untrusting that his own eyes wouldn't wander all over her, palms spreading down his thighs as he shifts on the mattress.

And he knew.. of course he fucking knew that she was treading a line seeing if he would finally cross over it. But she was the only thing he was terrified of.. and never for the reasons it would've made sense for him to be. He'd have never given her that knife she had tucked away in her bag if that were the case. It would be more likely Hell froze over before he ever allowed himself to give into the temptation she was offering him. No matter how badly he may have wanted to. The dynamic was already a complicated mess as was.. he couldn't imagine how much more complicated it would be if he did.

'You're walking a very dangerous path, Roman.' Jericho's words echo in his mind with warning. God knew he was.

"Can't help but keep wonderin'.." he finally starts again, any sense of amusement he'd held before drained from his voice entirely as his dark orbs stay planted on the warped wooden floor of that seedy hotel room. "..once this ends.. however it does.." he pauses in thought, his gaze finally lifting in search of her.

"..say we kill Lilith- Caim.. stop the domino effect should they start breakin' these seals. Lucifer never pops the cage.. or the war happens, and humanity wins.." he lists through scenarios, shrugging at her a bit as his gaze lingers up at her and shifts.

"You ain't the only hunter, Camilla.." he says finally, a warning in his tone- a knowing one. "Dean.. I don't know any way of savin' him.. even if that's the case, there's just as many hunters like Dean out there as there are like you, like Sam.." he explains in an even tone, swallowing as he stares up at her from the end of the bed.

" ..once the behemoth is out the way.. we both know who the targets are gonna be and other hunters aren't gonna be so understandin' that we ain't all the same." He exhales slowly as he watches her, nodding and dropping his gaze again.

He didn't know what he was looking for. Typically it was her looking to him for reassurance and he wasn't even sure that's what this was. More that he was just explaining a valid reason as to why he wouldn't even let himself get close to her- not any closer than he already was. Ever since Jericho jumping down his throat over his priorities it had turned into Roman just.. scrapbooking moments he'd had with her, the seed already having been planted that there was as much an inevitability here as there was with Dean's clock ticking, as there was with this little pissing contest between Hell and the Heavens. And to Roman that inevitability was only going to be harder if he allowed himself to let her in anymore than she already was…

"Likelihood is I'm gonna have to disappear.. once this is over." he says finally, his tone lowering as he swallows again. Not wanting to look up at her again for fear of what he'd find there. The worst part was that it didn't matter if any line was crossed or not. Camilla had crept into that godforsaken organ in his chest like a thief in the night and he already knew that he wouldn't be the same afterward. She'd made him feel the closest to human as he'd ever get again.

He didn't know if that was better, or worse in the end of things.'

[universalzones]

"Come on Drippy, just do what ya did the other day when we were training," Surge said, attempting to coax Kit to use the ability that happened the other day why training. "And don't overthink, just feel it out and do it. From what I could tell that skill is something ya gotta trust your gut on."

"But, thinking is the way I've always used my hydrokinesis." Kit never thought about simply doing something without thinking. The fennec always thinks what they should do in great detail before doing anything. That's why Surge keeps them around, right? "How do I even act without thinking? Does that ever work?"

"Just do it! It ain't that hard!" Surge would suddenly yell, her temper easily getting the better of her. It was swiftly replaced with guilt seeing Kit flinch and taking a step back. 'Dammit Surge. Cool your fuckin jets. Kit ain't like you and you fuckin know it. Don't be stupid and yell at them. You're better than that. You're better than HE made you to be.' The tenrec would take a deep breath.

"I ain't sayin to shut ya brain off, though you gotta relax. Let your muscle's loosen up, just give a quick thought to what you wanna do, and then do it. That's the way I use my speed after all." To demonstrate this Surge would suddenly zip off towards the edge of the cliff they were close by, stopping which caused her to slide forward ever so slight, and finally stopping right on the edge while on one foot and on her tippy toes. "As I said, ya gotta feel it out."

Kit was quick to panic upon seeing Surge suddenly dash towards the cliff. The fennec about to spring into action, though stopped themself upon seeing the tenrec stop perfectly to be standing on her tippy toes at the very edge of the cliff. They sighed with relief before speaking. "O-Okay, but please, don't scare me like that," they said before looking at the very crude training dummy Surge put together.

'Shit, gotta stop freaking them out like that.' Surge just did that without thinking how Kit would react. "Sorry bout that Drippy," the tenrec said, swiftly rushing back over to them. "Now, show me what ya got. And remember, you got this." Hopefully her pep talk and demonstration would give the fennec a good confidence boost.

"R-Right, I got this. Just, feel it out," Kit said, despite the fact they were still painfully nervous. The fennec just couldn't stand the thought of disappointing Surge which made it hard to not overthink. 'J-Just gotta calm down. After all, this is only p-practice and Surge believes in me. I can d-do this, I HAVE to do this because she wants me to.' They would then light slap their cheeks. 'N-No, I'm not doing this because Surge wants me to. I'm doing this because I WANT to, not because I'm being told.' Sure the tenrec was encouraging them, though they knew she wasn't gonna force them if they couldn't get it.

'Okay, here we go.' Kit would summon a small amount of water from their hydropack. Only enough just to make small ninja star. Why did they choose this? Well, like Surge suggest they just gave a quick thought and this was what came to mind. Of course it didn't take long for thoughts to begin to flood the fennec's mind on what to do next.

'Oh no, no no no no no. Stop thinking, just, stop thinking and do it. Wait, I don't know what to do, though that's the point, right? I gotta do what Surge said. Feel it out, which means I should think about that. No, that doesn't make sense. I can't feel it out if I'm forcing myself to think about feeling it out.' Kit was having a full on melt down in their head.

Surge was just staring at Kit, knowing full well they were overthinking every little detail right now. 'Geez, maybe we should call it quits. Kit clearly isn't ready to try something like this. Not until we can get some more of Starline's brainwashing out of their head.' The tenrec was about to tell them they were done for the day when a random idea popped in her head.

"The dummy's gonna blow up in three seconds, do the thing!" Surge would suddenly shout. 'I seriously hope that puts Kit into overdrive and not freak them out. That's the last thing I need.' The tenrec knew they hated shouting, though this was her last ditch effort to help.

In that instance all thoughts faded away expect for the supposed threat that Surge just told them about. Without thinking Kit would summon more water from their hydropack, swiftly forming a sphere around the dummy. Suddenly the water would freeze over, thus making a sphere of solid ice around the dummy. With all that said they snapped out of autopilot after there was no explosion after three seconds. Before they could ask questions they felt Surge placing an arm around them.

"Now that's what I'm talkin about Drippy!" Surge wasn't gonna waste any time in giving Kit their credit in freezing that dummy in a solid sphere of ice. "The bomb stuff was a lie, though just look at that! You've got some crazy strong ice powers now, and no need for mine or Starline's help. See how strong you are?" The tenrec asked, giving the fennec a few good pats on the back.

Getting so much praise from Surge was nice, even if Kit was still a bit on edge after the sudden lie about a bomb. "T-Thank you. M-Maybe if I keep t-training I'll be s-stronger than you?" The fennec was nervous about asking that, though they were still trying to show the small confidence they have.

Now it was Surge's turn to get nervous upon hearing the question. 'Shit, the fuck do I say to that?! Do I say no? Do I say yes? I don't fuckin know how to answer this!' The tenrec then saw Kit's small smile start to fade as she remained quiet. She had to answer, now.

"You mean you don't know? Of course you'll end up stronger than me. You'll end up so strong you'll wipe the floor with me and beat me into the fuckin ground. Heck, I'm sure you'll be able to fight Sonic and Eggman by yourself, at the same time." Fuck that felt like too much. Hopefully Surge didn't freak Kit out.

Kit took a moment, processing everything Surge just to them. It was, a lot to take in, though suddenly their smile got big. "Y-Yeah! I'm sure I can do that! I'll get strong enough to fight on my own, just like you!" The fennec was clearly having a large burst of confidence right now.

"That's what I'm talkin about!" Surge couldn't help feel glad that Kit was finally believing in themself and their own power. "Course I won't make it easy for ya. You'll have to train hard if you wanna get stronger than me!" The tenrec wasn't gonna get surpassed easily.

"Then I'll make sure to keep training hard! I won't give up no matter what!" For the moment Kit was free from the constant thoughts telling them only to protect and listen to Surge. Free from the constant worry and stress of Surge getting hurt. Free of wondering what they would do without someone to tell them what to do. The fennec only felt joy, excitement, encouragement, and self confidence at this moment.

"Though I never thought I'd be a cryomancer. I wonder if I had this power before or maybe it was always there and is only showing up now." Kit would have to look into it as this sudden ability to turn water into ice did show up out of nowhere.

"Save it for later. We've been training all day so let's pack it up, get some grub, and call it a day," Surge said while ruffling Kit's hair. The tenrec figured it'd be best to get some food and rest up as she was sure they'd be training tomorrow too. Thus the two walked off to find the nearest town so they could get some food.

[conallblackbar]

he'd finished his cup, and conall thought little of moving to reach for the rest of the bottle and top himself up. it was a gesture that he was far too comfortable with - both due to the familiarity of sharing a drink with ronan bracken, and the fact it was now force of habit. "simpler times," he echoed, though the words resonated more than ronan may have intended them to. there was little nostalgia in ronan's tone, but conall's own was tinged with a sort of sentimentality, for unlike ronan, he did look back on the time before with a sort of longing. he missed when things had been easier, problems that had seemed monumental then paling in comparison to now.

it was even harder not to be wistful when they were talking about times of joy, one that still brought a laugh out in ronan, but conall could not help but grin at ronan's wheezy chuckles. "remember? i'll never forget it. i swear i was still half-cut in the sept, amount we put away the night before. spent the whole time swaying at the altar." he shook his head, managing a look of mock-indignance. "'s'no wonder i was confused, is it? i had one of you shouting shit poetry in my left ear, and someone else telling me to compliment he tits in my right." conall's own contribution had been to compare marriage to a shipwreck. perhaps wisely, that line had swiftly been removed, but with the benefit of hindsight, it seemed almost like a premonition of what was to come.

he clicked his tongue, setting his cup down to rest on the table. "should have just let me make a cock of myself," he mused. "could have saved me a bit of trouble, hey?"

it was not often that conall spoke of the matter of his marriage with any sort of levity, but he did now. it was not often that conall spoke of any matter relating to abigail at all, but that was what the drink was for. tonight, it didn't feel like a crushing weight around his neck, something that had made an irrevocable mark on him. not with ronan, who had never once given any indication that he believed anything other than conall's innocence. there was self-deprecation in his words, certainly, but that was simply conall's way. tonight wasn't about regrets, or ruminating after what had long been lost, even if the nostalgia of it had wrapped around his heart.

until they spoke of willow. there was a wound that would never heal, a woman with which, for conall, there would never be any peace. if conall's stay in the riverlands was to be an extended one, she could present a problem. it was something he had considered, just how much of a thorn in his side she was likely to be, but despite the untruths she so often spoke of in relation to his guilt, he could not find it in him to blame her for speaking them. perhaps that was the worst part of it - that he understood why she felt the way she did, why she said the things she said. if it was his sister, he could not say that he would think any differently.

"she's got reason to hate me, though," he pointed out. it would have been easy to sit there and call her mad, especially to ronan, knowing how deep his hatred of all things relating to house blackwood ran, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to do so. "i can't blame her for it. just have to put up with it, i suppose." his words were matter-of-fact, with little sense of martyrdom behind them. conall endured willow's venom, simply because he deserved to endure it. it was the very least he had earned. willow would never forgive him, and he would never ask her to. he could, to some extent, try and ignore the whispers of strangers, but willow had every right to look at him and see nothing but the worst. he did not kill abigail, but they both knew it was his fault she was dead.

a mere nod of his head indicated his agreement with ronan's words. conall was done speaking of politics for the night. instead, he let a smirk cross his face, a slight shake of his head. "you just want someone to blame if they turn out shit," he pointed out. "i won't be having you point the finger at me if your wife isn't impressed with you, ronan bracken." he had already proven, through his own experiences, that he was not up to the task. "nah. you'll find me in the front row, waiting to see if you make as much of a pig's ear of it as i did." his grin was broad as he reclined in his chair, crossing his legs at the ankle before him.

"'course, you'll need a bride before you start fussing over your vows. unless there's something you ain't telling me." it did not take a genius to work out where ronan's affections lay, just a pair of eyes and enough sense in one's head to connect the dots. and yet, little had ever come from it. perhaps things had changed whilst he had been away, conall reasoned. "does the poor woman know what she's letting herself in for, hitching herself to you?" it was a lighthearted sort of teasing, but there was something in the way ronan's smirk slipped, just slightly, before he caught himself. had conall been looking anywhere but directly at his face, or if he had been but a few sips drunker, he might have missed it, but he didn't. it was enough to have him looking a little closer, for something other than old jokes and half-remembered poetry.

and there is was. hugo vance. the mention of him was casual enough, and it stemming from talk of wedding vows was enough to confirm that no, things had not changed at all. he knew enough to know the very basics of it, that once, ronan and hugo had been friendly, until suddenly they weren't. war did that, he supposed, made enemies of even the closest of allies. years had passed, but whatever went wrong with them had stayed wrong. it was just one of those things, and yet, their estrangement was enough to have conall looking at hugo sideways whenever their paths crossed. it was not that he had ever seen any indication that hugo vance was anything but the decent sort - save for the severance of his relationship with ronan, and the fact conall trusted ronan's judgement far more than his own, and trusted that the reason behind the distance was a sound one.

"why? want me to put in a good word for you?" he was being facetious, picking his cup from the table and taking another long sip. deliberately casual, matching ronan's own tone of voice, even as something pricked at the back of conall's mind. "reckon i'll catch him when i get the chance," he finally answered. "bound to stumble across him eventually, ain't i?" he might have let it go. another time, another place, another conversation, and he might have, but perhaps the drink had loosened his tongue more than it ought to be, so instead, his head tilted. "something i should know?"

ᕯ

ronan leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out beneath the table with the easy familiarity of a man who did not need to think twice about his company. the candlelight cast flickering shadows across the room, catching against the deep grain of the wood and the half-drunk cups between them. it had been years since they had last sat like this—just the two of them, without politics wedged between them like an uninvited guest. he let out a slow breath, drumming his fingers against the arm of his chair. it wasn’t that he didn’t feel the weight of it, of everything that had brought conall here, but fuck, if he let himself get dragged down in it now, they’d be at each other’s throats before the night was through.

he wasn’t interested in that. not tonight.

instead, he let his mind wander to simpler times, to a night long past but not forgotten. his grin came slow but certain, the memory of it enough to peel away the stiffness of responsibility that had settled into his bones. and when the sound finally came after listening, it was that of his typical bark of laughter - almost wheezy and deep, a hand resting upon his knee as he sat up suddenly. "aye, i almost forgot about that," he said, shaking his head. "do you remember the state of us before your wedding?" the words came out rough with laughter before he even finished them, and he tipped his cup towards the other man, an unspoken toast to the sheer stupidity of their younger selves.

"thought we were poets, the lot of us, huddled together with our cups and our quills, convinced we were writing something that’d go down in history. and the worst part is, you believed it." he barked out a laugh, sharp and unrestrained.

"i had to bite my fucking tongue in the sept. nearly lost it when you stumbled over that first line—we all knew it was coming, spent the whole morning laying bets on whether you'd get through it without making a cock of yourself." he tilted his head back, exhaling through his nose. "and omer—fuck, i'm sure he still remembers. swears up and down you went pale as the fucking marble." he smirked. "probably was, if i had to guess. wouldn’t have blamed you, mind. half the room looked ready to drop dead from boredom, and the other half was just there to see if you’d actually go through with it." his laughter faded, but the warmth of it still lingered in his chest. he sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw before letting it drop against the table with a dull thud.

"simpler times, aye?" he mused, though there was no real wistfulness to it—just the plain truth. not easier, not softer, just simpler. before the weight of banners and thrones and whispered accusations had settled between them.

his gaze flicked over conall then, lingering just a moment too long before he looked away. he would not speak on it—not the rumours, not the whispers that clung to conall like a shadow he could never quite shake. there was nothing to be gained from dredging up the past, not when the dead were already buried and the living still had to walk forward. instead, he reached for his cup again, rolling it between his palms. "run into her, what can she do? fuck her and fuck them too, blackwood cunts." he said, the words coming slow, yet casual - a true glimpse into the extent of enmity that had swirled between their houses from what felt like the beginning of time. children or not, they were blackwoods; blackwood men, and if he could, he would run his blade through them.

"the mad cow. though surely she’s mellowed some—or at least, she’s too busy chasing after her children now to stir up as much shit as she used to back in the day." his mouth twitched, but there was no real humour in it. a pause. ronan shifted, adjusting his seat as if to shake off the weight of the conversation before it could settle too deep.

he had never been one for speaking on ghosts—not when there was still so much left for the living to carry. he wasn’t going to start now. he let out a laugh, shaking his head. "truth be told con, i’d rather drink to old times than sit here jawing about politics all night. i’m sure you’ve already had your fill of that shite." he tipped his cup in conall’s direction, an unspoken invitation to leave it at that. "besides, i reckon i’ve put more effort into this conversation than i will my own wedding vows." a smirk, a knowing look. "though, if you’re lucky, maybe i’ll let you help me write them. could be you’ll finally redeem yourself after that first mess."

it were known ronan bracken was no poet; if anything, his attempted poetry which he had intended to try and send to a not so mystery woman many a year ago had been under scrutiny many times at the gambling table. sometimes, he could still hear omer's thick brightwater accent speaking it loudly from the very bottom of his chest. a slight laugh slipped from his mouth as he again took another sip of his whiskey, though there was a minor slip on his expression as his next words came to mind - and they slipped, before he could fully think about what it was he was going to say. conall being in such close proximity means he would surely realise, sooner rather than later, that things were far stranger between the brackens and the vances than he could ever have truly assumed from across rolling reach hills.

"when are you planning on seeing hugo, aye?" never hughie; never hugie, always hugo for what felt like forever. "you'll need to catch him, man ventures around quite a bit."

[vioartemis]

Falling for her

(Amber Freeman x fem! reader x Tara Carpenter)

Summary: Amber reveals herself as one of the killers, and you, her girlfriend, are as shocked as everyone else. A year after all this shit, you and Tara become closer, eventually leading to something more than friendship... Part 1 || Part 2 Warnings: blood, injuries, death of characters, slight angst a/n: might do a part 2 👀 (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

Since the beginning you defended her, telling everyone she was incapable of killing someone. Telling them she wasn't like that. Telling them they were wrong.

Turns out you were the one who was wrong this all time.

And even now that she shot Liv in the head you couldn't believe it. You simply couldn't.

You were frozen in place, incapable of running away with the others. You only moved because Amber dragged you to her room, along with Tara, whom she taped and put in her closet before kneeling in front of you.

"You okay baby..? I know I lied, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to hurt you I promise"

She whipped your tears away with her thumbs and placed a peck on your lips.

"You're coming with me after this right? We'll run away from Woodsboro and start a new life together, just the two of us. No more Ghostface, no more blood, no more Tara."

As far as you could remember, she had always been jealous of Tara. Not that you felt anything for her, you loved Amber and her only, but your girlfriend didn't seem to understand that.

You fought a lot because of that, which led you to spend more and more time away from her. More and more time with Tara. You knew it wouldn't fix anything, but you couldn't handle your girlfriend's jealousy 24/7. You needed space.

“P-please d-don’t hurt her… I’ll come with you… j-just… leave her alone… please…”

“Oh baby… you’re so kind even in that situation… but I can’t let her live, she’d snitch on me and the police would be after us…”

She smiled at you. Not the smile that made you fall for her. A crazy, psychotic smile.

“Now come with me baby, you wouldn’t want to miss the spectacle, right?”

She gently took your hand and guided you downstairs before dragging you to the kitchen, when she told you to wait for her.

You wanted to run away the second she left, but your legs didn’t seem to agree. All you could do was cry on the floor, re thinking everything, every time Amber told you she had something to do, probably killing someone.

Killing someone with the same hands she touched you with.

Knees against your chest, you couldn’t stop crying. Your eyes were all puffy and red. Your chest hurt. Your heart hurt.

When Amber got back, gripping Sidney’s hair, followed by Richie and Sam, you were still there. Not even looking up.

“Y/n..? You… you knew..?”

That made you tilt your head up slightly.

“S-Sam I swear I didn’t know… I would never hurt anyone… let alone Tara…”

She looked at you with suspicious eyes, along with Sidney.

“N-no.. I.. please you have to believe me..”

“Yeah, believe her.” Richie said, grabbing your arm to make you stand up. “Maybe that’ll help you trust her”

He sunk his knife into your abdomen, five times, his other hand on your mouth to prevent you from screaming. He threw you back onto the floor, as Amber entered the room.

“Okay Gale’s here, now we can-” she stopped as she saw you bleeding on the floor “Y/n!”

She rushed to you, a worried look on her face. She took off her costume and tried to bandage you up with it, to stop the bleeding.

“What the fuck did you do to her?!”

She turned to Richie, glaring daggers at him.

“Touch her again and I will fucking kill you."

She kneeled in front of you, gently cupping your cheeks.

"I'm sorry baby... he wasn't supposed to hurt you... y-you're gonna be fine don't worry... we'll end this quickly..."

She kissed your lips softly, before standing up.

You didn't see nor hear anything after that, barely conscious due to the amount of blood you were losing. When you opened your eyes, you were alone in the kitchen.

You could hear fight noises coming from the hallway. You stood up painfully. Once at the door, you felt your heart drop for the second - or was it third? - time this day.

Amber and Tara were fighting. She was going to kill her. You had to do something.

You managed to get in front of Tara just as Amber was about to stab her.

"Baby what are you doing...? You should rest you're not-"

"Amber... please stop... you can't kill her... she's our friend... they all were..."

You could see she was hurt. She thought you would be on her side, even after her reveal. But you weren't. You'd rather protect Tara than stay with her.

"Okay then..." she said

You thought you convinced her. But you were wrong. There was even more craziness in her black eyes.

"If I can't have you no one will."

She raised her knife, but before she could do anything, she got shot in the head. You watched in horror as she fell, remember all the moments you spent together.

You fell on your knees, heartbroken at the sight of your girlfriend's lifeless body. Even if she tried to kill you at the end, you knew she loved you.

Tara placed herself in front of you so you didn't have to see Amber any longer, thinking it wasn't good for you. You looked up at her, tears in your eyes, before pulling her into a hug she gave back.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

After "the incident", you spent a month at the hospital, in a room you shared with Tara. You were more than happy to have her by your side, and she felt the same about you.

Sidney came to visit you once, before going back home with her husband and children. She apologized for killing Amber, to what you replied she saved both your life and Tara's so there was no need for excuses.

Six months after that night, you moved out of Woodsboro with Sam, Tara, Mindy and Chad. You all agreed on the fact that to heal and move on, you needed to get the fuck out of this city.

New York was your new home, and you wouldn't deny you were doing much better since you moved in with Tara and Sam.

Eight months after your arrival at New York, you found yourself thinking about Tara a lot more than just a friend would.

Was it bad that you were falling for her, only a year after Amber died..? Did it make you a bad person? What would Tara think about that? Was there even a chance she'd like you back?

"Y/n? I've been calling you for like ten minutes, are you okay?" Sam said as she entered your room

"Sorry, I was... thinking"

"You want to talk about it..?"

"If you don't mind listening.."

She sat beside you on the bed, taking your hand in hers.

"Hey, remember what we said when we left Woodsboro? I'm here for you, I'll always be"

"Thanks..."

You gave her a grateful smile.

"Now tell me everything"

"It’s Tara… I-I think I'm falling for her..."

The older girl looked at you with a slight smile.

"You have every right to fall for someone you know? That means you're over her, you're healing"

"Yeah..?"

"Plus I'm pretty sure she likes you back, given the way she looks at you and talk about you"

She squeezed your hand slightly.

"C'mon now, dinner time"

A few days had passed since you talked to Sam. It was night, and you were on the balcony, watching the sky and the city, when you felt a blanket falling on your shoulders.

“I thought you might get cold..”

Tara’s sweet voice made you smile as you turned to face her.

“But you don’t even wear a jacket! Tara..”

You pulled her closer to you, wrapping the blanket around her too, before realizing how close you were now.

You only ever saw her freckles from afar, but now you could see them perfectly. She had more than you thought.

She was so pretty, face illuminated with the faint light of the city, head slightly tilted up to look at you.

“Y/n…”

Her eyes shifted almost imperceptibly to your lips before going back to your eyes.

Neither of you said a word, yet you understood each other. You placed your hands on her waist, while she placed hers behind your neck, pulling you close, her eyes never leaving yours.

She stopped, only a few inches away from your lips, making sure you really wanted it to happen. You were the one closing the gap between you.

One of her hands went in your hair, soft lips moving against yours tenderly in a passionate kiss.

You could kiss her for hours, and she could say the same. You stayed here for a while, only pulling away when the lack of air forced you to.

No words were needed, and none was said during the next hour you spend on the balcony. You watched the stars, her head resting on your shoulder while she intertwined your fingers.

When it started raining, you both returned to your rooms after one last kiss.

You sat on your bed, smiling like an idiot, while Tara did the same on the floor.

She took a bag from under her bed, opening it silently, and taking something out of it.

“Now that I have you..” she brushed the white mask with her thumb “no one else ever will”

[Next part]