#and how people characterize him makes me roll my eyes

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I wanna see what’s Ace’s family’s reaction when they found out Ace is dating reader Heheheh

I decided to have only Ace's brother present, since Mr. and Mrs. Trappola have yet to receive strong characterization.

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

The Trappola brothers sat across from one another upon red velvet chairs, and you, between them. They were both intently focused on building a house of playing cards—a task that Ace had warned took “serious patience, coordination, and a gentle touch.” (You had rolled your eyes and responded, “Great. You let me know when you’ve found someone that has all that.”)

Ace carefully laid a Two of Spades down, formed a triangle with a Three of Clubs and a Four of Diamonds. His hand slowly retreated, and the triangle stayed. He expelled a sigh, directed away from the cards so as to not disturb them.

You would have clapped for him, but Ace had discouraged you before the game had even started. So instead, you tapped your index and middle fingers together. Still giving applause, but not nearly enough to rattle the house of cards.

“Your move.”

“Huh, you’ve gotten better at this,” his brother mused. He toyed with an Ace of Hearts, expertly twirling it between dexterous fingers. “Too bad. I was really looking forward to smoking you in front of your new friend.”

“In your dreams,” Ace sneered, passing you a glance. “The last thing I’d want is to look uncool in front of my partner.”

His brother drew himself up in his seat. The card in his hand, stilling. “Your partner? Since when were you two a thing?”

“Oh, you know… since a while ago,” Ace casually replied. “And honestly, I can’t really blame’m. Who wouldn’t fall for my dashing good looks and roguish charm? I’m a catch!”

His brother regarded you with an almost pitying look. “It’s not too late to change your mind,” he advised.

You burst into laughter. "I think I'm good. Ace is an idiot, but he's at least my idiot."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you've got a sense of humor. You'll need that if you're going to put up with Ace all of the time. Congrats, you passed the first test."

"Whaddya mean 'put up with' me?!" Ace protested, puffing up his cheeks. A pout--adorable, you think.

"I mean it exactly how I said it. It's practically a full-time job dealing with you," his brother replied cheekily. "You gotta prepare people for it, or else they won't know what they've signed up for."

"Oh, come on! You're making me sound way worse than I actually am."

"This, coming from the guy who ghosted his ex?" He smirked, and you could see the family resemblance in it. The slight narrowing of the eyes, the way his mouth angled. "I dunno, I was half expecting you to stay single forever after that royal screw-up, lil' bro. You're lucky you found someone willing to take you~"

Pink exploded onto Ace's cheeks. "H-Hey...!" he hissed, leaning toward his brother. "Did you seriously have to bring that up?! Have a little more tact, will ya?!"

The older Trappola grinned. "Gotcha."

You realized why.

Ace's sudden movement had sent a slight breeze against the card house. It wobbled from top to bottom--then the structure collapsed in on itself, the cards all folding into one another. Within seconds, the house was a pile on the coffee table.

Ace fell to his knees with a pathetic wail, scrambling to salvage his hard work. His brother looked on, chuckling. A card, still in his hand.

"I didn't place mine yet," he declared triumphantly, "and since you made the house fall, it's technically my win!"

"Y-You sneaky...! You taunted me on purpose!!"

"Yeah, and it worked like a charm." He flicked Ace on the forehead. "You were too busy trying to flex in front of your S/O. It was easy to take advantage of that. You always were a cocky, predictable brat."

"Grrrrr..!!"

"Ace, it's fine," you soothed him, a hand on his arm. "You did your best. It doesn't change how I feel about you."

"Tch, there you go being all sappy again... You're so lame sometimes," Ace grumbled--but he covered your hand with his. A small gesture, but a reassuring one.

"Hahah, look at you two lovebirds," his brother teased, wagging a finger at you. Then he reached out and roughly ruffled Ace's hair, despite his complaints and attempts to swat him away. "Happy for you though, lil' bro! You gotta tell me how this love story started--"

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

I love how you characterize Aaron Hotchner! Would you please write something for him along with the quote ‘keep your eyes open, sweetheart’? Completely up to you, but was definitely thinking about some heavy angst 🙃🙃

"look at me" - hotch x gn!bau!reader - 985 words

cw: injuries and depictions of violence, general angst, anxiety, hotch literally just being a hero as per freakin usual

why hello my love! thank you sm for this request <3

i don't write a lot of angst, it's certainly something i need practice with! but i really enjoyed writing this and i smooch ur lil forehead

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

People always say that in a near-death experience, your whole life flashes before your eyes. 

Not yours. 

You didn’t see your whole life, no. You saw bits and pieces - learning to ride a bike, walking at your high school graduation, pinning your FBI badge to your blazer. And then you just saw Aaron. 

The first time you met, shaking hands as a brazen formality in the middle of a case, feeling his deep, brown eyes scrutinize your every move, watching him watch you. He was testing you back then, seeing if you’d be a good fit for the team.

The first real conversation you shared with him - The Beatles, which song was his favorite? Laughing at him when he said Yellow Submarine. 

When he held your hand for the first and only time on a particularly rough case, about four months ago, and promised you that things would get better. 

When you comforted him for the first time, about three months ago, after Haley left him. You promised him that everything happens for a reason. 

Five minutes ago, when you told him you felt certain the unsubs were going to strike again. You felt it in the pits of your stomach, you told Aaron. And he just nodded and said he trusted your intuition. Then he held the door open for you, and led you out of the police station, into the dead-quiet night of the street.  

He clicked the key fob in his hand, and the SUV burst into red-hot flames and sent you both flying. You were immediately knocked unconscious, your body thrust out into the street flippantly, like someone had simply thrown a baseball. 

You come to on the concrete, your head pounding. All sound is muffled, but you see Aaron on his knees, hovering over you. His face is covered in dirt and soot and blood, and he keeps cupping his hand over his ear. 

“ - hear me?” Sound is restored in the middle of Aaron’s question. It’s abrupt, like someone changing the channel on the TV, but you can hear again. You feel dizzy and disoriented as you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Stay down,” Aaron instructs, guiding you gently to lay flat on your back once again. Your entire body is throbbing. 

“Aaron,” you feel a panicked, whispered sob escape you. He grabs your hand and you feel him squeeze it. Your eyes roll into the back of your head. You feel dizzy, like you might pass out again and Aaron’s grip tightens around your hand. “It hurts.” 

“Keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart. Please?” The endearment rolls off of Aaron’s tongue like he’s said it a million times before. He hasn’t. Your relationship with him has been professional-ish up until this point. You’re not sure how he feels about you, exactly, but at this moment, it doesn’t matter. 

 He doesn’t even acknowledge that he said it. “What hurts?” Aaron’s speaking loudly, like someone who has headphones in. His hand is still pressed against his ear. 

“All of it,” you murmur. “Everything.” 

You feel tears in your eyes. Your stomach is in knots and you feel like someone is sitting on your chest. You blink a few times, feeling the tears drip down your face and onto your lips, salty and full of dread. 

Aaron’s checking you over, you realize, lifting your head gently and quickly to make sure you’re not bleeding. He’s talking to you, telling you what he’s doing so you don’t panic even more. He uses feather-light touches to lift your arm, and pain shocks you, coursing through your wrist. “Shh, hey, I’m sorry,” he says, laying your arm by your side. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Your wrist is broken.” 

You blink a few tears away. 

“I’m going to pick you up, Y/N,” he tells you. He never calls you by your first name, but you’re in so much pain that you can’t even be jarred by it. “Can you move your other arm?” 

It feels laden, but you can. You nod and whimper in confirmation. 

“Can you hook it around my neck?” He asks as he slides his hands under you. The crooks of your knees and your back are cradled by Aaron’s arms and you wrap your arm around his neck. Once he determines you’re stable in his arms, he lifts you up. You hear sirens blaring as they get closer, and you see Aaron grimace. You feel his body tense up, his fingers curl around the fabric of your shirt. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him in an unfiltered mumble, sniffling as he carries you towards the nearest ambulance. 

“It’s just my ear. I’m fine, Y/N. I’ll be fine,” he promises, but you feel how labored his gait is. It’s taking everything in him to carry you to the ambulance. You want to tell him to stop, to remind him that the paramedics can bring the gurney to you. But you’re so tired, so dizzy. You think maybe if you just rest your eyes a little bit, you might feel better. Your head tilts to rest in the crook of Aaron’s neck. Your eyes flutter shut. 

“Y/N, you might have a concussion. You have to stay awake, okay?” Aaron’s voice draws you back. Your eyes are shaky when they open, and you see him looking at you with weighted concern as he sets you onto the gurney. 

The paramedics load you shakily up into the ambulance, and you reach your uninjured arm out. “You’re going to the hospital with me, right?” You ask. 

Aaron nods, climbing in after the paramedics and sitting beside you. His eyes are piercing and full of consternation as he takes your uninjured hand in both of his. He runs his fingertips over your knuckles, nodding assuredly, though you are certain he is feeling exactly the opposite.  “Yeah. Of course. I’m not going to leave you.”

[feefivefoe]

I guess I'm unintentionally working my way up the age ladder, so Jason next-

This is the first part that contains backstory stuff I gave my reader, so unfortunately this is where a lot of the "they can be anyone" immersion dies, sorry y'all.

Genuinely, he thought he might hate you at first. Even at the preteen age of 12, where children were usually trying to start striving to independence, you had been so...bland.

It's not that you didn't stand out. Quite the contrary. Anywhere Alfred could be found, you were just a step or two behind him. A leech. Only ever speaking in a hushed voice, making the old man strain himself to hear you, surely.

He doesn't think you've ever even looked him in the eye.

It isn't until that summer he starts connecting the dots. You still cling to long sleeved shirts, pants over shorts, even when it's clear you're struggling to not overheat.

Then he catches you in the kitchen in the middle of the night, t-shirt and pajama shorts.

Burn marks, healed yet gruesome, decorate your arms and legs. Based on how they're positioned, he'd argue they probably exist on the rest of your body, too.

And yet, despite his invasion of what you clearly(?) wanted kept hidden, you merely bow your head in shame and offer a meek apology.

That's when he stops seeing you as a problem, but as a victim of consequence.

Not a bratty child who doesn't care enough about the lower class to speak to your new 'sibling,' but a lonely child who had never even once considered he might want to speak to you.

"Mister Wayne and Mister Grayson are very busy." You had said once, matter of factly rather than bitter or sad. "I'm sure they'd spend time with me if they weren't. But they have two lives, so they have less time than anybody."

He doesn't have the heart to tell you that they make time for him. And the rest of Gotham.

As you do with Alfred, you begin to shadow him. Meandering behind him without a care as to what his plans are, happy to receive the barest of acknowledgments.

You hesitate when speaking about yourself, as though taking up his time with mentions of you is an issue. He's starting to understand why.

Jason isn't sure if it's pity or growing affection that keeps him around, at first. For a while, he sees you as more of a sad, wet dog than as his family.

But you begin to connect with peers at school, finding validation outside of those that feel forced to give it to you. You mature, grow up more than you should, and realize the reality of your home life.

And Jason is thrilled! ...and...a little sad? He's happy for you, sure. Having friends is probably what you needed. People who want you around, genuinely. Who choose to make time for you.

But he'd be lying if he said that the way you used to stare at him didn't make him feel like a hero. Like he was doing so much, changing your world, simply by existing.

You still speak, of course. You're friendly siblings that get along well. You give him various foods you've tried making, courtesy of Alfred inspiring a desire to learn to cook and bake on your own. You talk about books you've read together, and listen intently while he rambles about his favorites.

You even peek in after particularly rough patrol nights, just to make sure he's gotten through it okay.

But it isn't...quite the same. No, but it's...it's for the best.

And he is still a hero! As Robin, he's protecting the whole city alongside Batman!

So he's still a hero.

He's still your hero.

"Jay? I was wondering if I could ask you for some help. The show my club is doing is one of those old books you like-"

"They aren't that old."

"-and my character doesn't show up much in the movie-"

"You watched the MOVIE before reading the book!?"

"-so I wanted to ask if you'd help me with characterization!"

He remembers groaning at you and rolling his eyes. "I'm busy tonight. Go watch the dumb, BAD, movie again." He pauses. "Uh, but I can tomorrow. I'll make sure I don't have anything planned, promise."

He saw you pause, and sees the constant same promises pass through you.

"I...have other arrangements. I'll make it up to you next time."

"Ah...sorry, kiddo! Big kid stuff. But next time! You trust your big bro, yeah?"

But this is Jason. Jason doesn't lie to you.

Jason keeps his promises.

You smiled. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

...

Then he died.

[rottmnt-residuum]

Hi, I've read the Residuum comic, and I think the characterization of the boys is really good. I was wondering if you have any tips on how to write them? Especially Mikey, please.

I'd actually recommend re-watching the show with one character in mind. All my notes on the turtles come from doing separate re-watches for each of them. The key is to ONLY watch the character you are focusing on.

In the end, you'll probably be happier with your own personal interpretation. As we are with ours lol

TL;DR

Massive post under the cut

To preface: we'll be contrasting (this Mikey) against the fandoms version of Mikey, as our interpretation is very different. Don't worry if you prefer the fandom version, there's nothing… wrong per se with writing him this way. We just find him flat and uninteresting. (Main author: not me, I just hate him, lol).

Every reader or fan comes into a story with their own biases and experiences. A ton of our view of Mikey is based on how our siblings acted. We see Mikey as the young sibling that got preferential treatment from the whole family, simply due to being the youngest, but is now aging out of the privilege. Which all youngest siblings do at some point or another.

The fandoms version of Mikey is empathetic, naive, vulnerable, co-dependent and quite often a door mat who cries at the drop of a hat. And as much as the fandom like to say that people love him… when this particular character archetype is in other media, they seem to attract the most criticism. Mable pines, Bolin from Korra, people rag on Aang all the fucking time, and Steven Universe is a whole other bag. These characters don't deserve it, and yet it happens anyway.

To flatten Mikey to simply 'the baby' is a disservice. We don't see or write Mikey as the fandom “baby” version (cinnamon roll uwu). Part of this comes from having multiple siblings, so we interpret the times when Mikey does the puppy dog eyes as typical younger sibling bullshit, mostly by the way that the other turtles rarely react to it, if at all.

The other turtles traits can also get projected onto Mikey. Mikey being the fandom therapist is in the same category as this. He isn't a therapist, he's a psychology nerd who likes to psychoanalyze people and meddle in their relationships. (Donnie and Shelldons relationship, Splinter and Draxums...) he's not trying to resolve your emotional issues. Of the turtles, the character that cares the most about people's feelings is Raph. And Leo is more of a consoler than Mikey ever is. It flattens all the turtle's characterizations when you start doing this because you are ripping out parts that are integral to another characters' complexity.

Co-author has told me that they've seen people become confused when going into the show after only reading fan fiction or coming from the movie. They see his characterization as inconsistent and become upset when their view of him is contradicted. This also happens when a fandomized version of him becomes the primary characterization that they use. Sometimes when this disconnect happens (or if they just don't like the character), Mikey characterization is swung in the complete opposite direction.

They make him manipulative and abusive, or someone who is hyper violent and avoids being held accountable for anything. This is an uncharitable interpretation of him and can come off as pretty racist depending on the circumstances. (like if someone considers the turtles black or not)

Every version of Mikey is a shithead (affectionate), even this one. Especially this one, really. When Mikey not doing the "baby schtick" hes mean. If you pay attention to what he's saying, and just not his tone of voice, he's consistently saying pretty mean or condescending stuff. (You could take this as simply naïveté, but he still says mean shit pretty often regardless)

The times he does say genuinely nice stuff the turtles don't exactly expect it from him, at least, in the early season. And while he is mean, and seems to find saying mean things to be funny, Mikey isn't cruel. Nor will he ever be.

This shit-headery behavior is found in both 2003 and 18 Mikey. They have a degree of social intelligence that lets them use it to annoy people into doing what they want. 18 just has the advantage of being baby faced and having better tonal control. He's good at using people's perception of him to get what he wants.

Let Mikey have his problematic traits, but don't overexaggerate them. He doesn't revel in fooling people. He loves doing character bits, and the baby faced one just happens to be one of them. However, to infantilize or to deem him incompetent is to piss him off, he wants to be viewed as a competent part of the team and competent as an individual. He's not insecure about being young, he just doesn't want to be treated like he can't do anything.

Mikey above all is an optimistic character, he sees the brighter side quite often and is conscious of the harm his actions have on people. Mostly after the fact, but he consistently attempts to rectify the harm he has personally done to peoples lives. (Todd, Bullhop, Draxum). Food and shelter seems to be a thing that he considers to be a right. He doesn't cross a boundary twice once he learns of it, and he never pushes people too far (if he likes you, that is. if he doesn't know you or doesn't like you, he doesn't give a singular shit. But that is standard to most people.). He doesn't care about people's stuff, though. He breaks things all the time.

Mikey understands boundaries, but he doesn't automatically recognize them. He needs them to verbalized or for there to be a very obvious reaction to the boundary being crossed (unfortunately, for Todd and Donnie). Sometimes people mess up (esp. younger people), and it can take a while for teens to learn where boundary is, but he fully respects the boundaries he does know about. He doesn't act petulant when he's told about boundary, he apologizes, accepts it, and moves on. He doesn't dwell.

Mikey doesn't hold on to distressing emotions. He bounces between emotions quickly, but isn't effected in the long run. One thing Iv'e seen people often conflate is the difference between sensitive and vulnerable. Mikey is sensitive, but I have never seen him vulnerable to others. To be sensitive is to be easily influenced by the current situation. To be vulnerable is to hold that influence for a long time. Characters can have one, both, or neither of these traits. But Mikey is not vulnerable. It is the difference between compressing memory foam and a piece of metal until they deform. One will pop back, the other does not.

Those who are vulnerable but not sensitive will take longer to effect, but once you do, they will hold on to that emotion for a very long time. The vulnerable, are grudge holders. (leo). But like I've said, Mikey bounces back. What a character does has an effect on his emotions, but it doesn't make a lasting impression.

Forgiveness is another thing people like to push on him. It is not that Mikey forgives people easily, it's just that he doesn't hold grudges. He neither forgives nor forgets, but he does not ruminate. He's generally affable, first impressions seem to be a big part of how he views people. He is idealistic, and doesn't assume people are unchanging and/or evil, but he's not a mark.

Mikey isn't so much as naive or overly trusting… it's just that he's inexperienced. He doesn't get fooled by anyone in the series except meat sweats, and that's because Meatsweats is on Todd drugs. Mikey just didn't notice when he started faking. He's not… actually all that aware of people's emotional states, passively. He has to tune in to notice things like that.

Mikey isn't someone who really tries to regulate others emotions, either. The fandom like to make Mikey afraid of his brothers fighting and others being upset, but Mikey doesn't actually care. The most distressed we ever see him in a fight is in the movie, and he's not SCARED, he's just concerned (and then alarmed once it turned physical). If anything, outside extenuating circumstances (like the movie), Mikey actually seems to find their fights annoying.

(Mikey actually seems to have a pretty short fuse, but his bounciness doesn't really let it linger very long, lmao)

(One pet peeve of fandom Mikey is the constant crying, crying at fights, crying at insults, crying for no reason all the time. Sure, he tears up when he gets emotional, but when Mikey is genuinely crying It's when he's desperate, like when he's hungry, or when he's trying to save Leo from certain doom. Same thing, really.)

Mikey respects no one (we love him for this). He admires people, he admires his family: April, the turtles, his dad, Lou Jitsu. He admires Rupert Swaggert, but he respects none of them. No one is sacrosanct to the Mikey.

Above all, the way we write characters is to give them a past that informs how they act now. We view Mikey and the other turtles as teenagers that were kids, and that will be adults. Yes they all have “problematic” traits, but 1) good characters need flaws, and controversial traits are one of the best to use, and 2) they're teenagers, don't expect adult behaviors from them, also don't expect them to be kids. They're minors, not toddlers.

This is getting as long enough as it is, so we'll stop here, but this is a very broad overview of how we characterize him. There's a lot we didn't cover here, but if we even started on hobbies, or the real minutia of his quirks and ticks, or even how he feels about other specific characters... we'd be here all day. So I hope this is good enough lol

If there was something you wanted to know in particular, you'll need to get specific. Feel free to ask again ahahh

[ranhaitanisgf]

hi!! can you write an oneshot of yuuji confessing his love to reader with the help of the first years and gojo? you are my fav writer!! ily bye<3

just confess already!!

synopsis: yuuji just can't get you out of his head!! maybe his friends and teacher can help?

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ first req for jjk !! it took a long time to write this bc i wasnt sure if i was characterizing everybody right, so lmk how i did !! thank you so much anon for requesting this idea; it was soso cute !! i hope you all enjoy ! xoxo

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ yuuji itadori x fem!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 2.1k+

masterlist

“idiot.” a harsh slap on the back of his head made yuuji yelp out in surprise and slight pain, clutching the back of his head. “if you keep staring like that she’s gonna notice, y’know.” he pouted a bit as nobara sat herself next to him, sipping a smoothie as the two of them watched you train with maki. 

“whatever…” he mumbled, setting his head on his hand. nobara watched him for a moment, the kicked puppy look on his face making her let out a breath, sighing. 

“i can’t enjoy your struggle with love if you look like that.” yuuji didn’t respond to her comment, making her roll her eyes. “hey, stop ignoring me and listen. you have the love expert sitting right next to you and you’re not even gonna ask me anything?” 

“you’ve never even had a boyfriend.” 

“hey!! i’m not gonna help you if you start being a little shit!” she yelled, huffing as she took another sip of her smoothie. 

as nobara looked at yuuji, she had to admit that it was strange to see him like this. it was odd to see yuuji so down in the dumps and not talking excitedly about something stupid, (not that she really cared. it was just an observation). 

“...you gonna confess to her?” 

“confess to who?!” 

“aah!” nobara screamed as she jumped, her cup almost slipping from her grasp. gojo peeked his head out between yuuji and nobara, his face twisting in feigned pain. 

“woah! don’t go screaming so loud, nobara! you’re gonna burst my eardrums!” the man whined, dramatically clutching his ears. 

“well maybe don’t go sneaking up on people like that!! i could’ve dropped my smoothie!!” she complained, clutching her smoothie much closer. despite the sudden appearance and scare from gojo, yuuji hadn’t even moved a muscle, his cheek still squished up against his hand as he watched you, your training partner now being panda. 

“sorry! but what’s got our vessel so down in the dumps? he get rejected?” 

“he’s gotten himself rejected in his mind before even confessing.” 

“ahhh, young love. so tragic!” gojo exclaimed dramatically. “so, who is it? hmmm…” gojo’s head turned to yuuji, matching his gaze until he saw you. “woah, (y/n)! what’re you gonna do?” 

“dunno…panda said she’s totally into some guy from kyoto…” nobara raised a brow at his words, scrunching her brows as she thought for a moment. 

“panda is a big fat liar. (y/n)-chan does have a crush on someone, but-” 

“you know who she has a crush on?!” yuuji suddenly asked, his voice raising two octaves and his jaw almost dropping. “who is it?!” 

“i’m not gonna break girl code for you, stupid! all i’ll say is that panda is completely wrong and that you have absolutely nothing to worry about.” she stated, making an ‘x’ symbol with her fingers. “you’ll be fine, so just confess already.” 

“i don’t even know how to do that! it looks so easy in those romance movies…” yuuji said, completely unaware of what she had just implied. 

“you watch romance movies? actually, why does that make complete sense- nevermind! stop being a coward! girls don’t like men who are cowards!” nobara confidently stated. “you’ve gotta be confident and tell your feelings unashamedly! be bold! be fearless!” 

the little pep talk had no effect on yuuji, the boy just sighing and standing up when he noticed that you were finished with training. before he could get up and walk away, gojo suddenly grabbed him from under his armpits, easily lifting him up and walking away with him, (yuuji’s flapping and flailing had absolutely no effect). 

nobara had stayed seated, staring at the scene for a couple moments and wondering if she should get herself involved, (teenage boys are so much trouble, after all). despite the fact that she could do much better things with her time, she ultimately decides to get up and follow them. see, she’s thinking for her future self! the future her wouldn’t be able to enjoy the small moments of peace and quiet if yuuji was constantly moping and feeling sorry for himself, so she has to intervene now for her own self preservation! 

“hey, let go of me!” 

“we have to fix this, stat! i wouldn’t be a good teacher if i didn’t help you out!” 

“i’m not asking for your stupid help! have you even had a girlfriend before, sensei?!” gojo gasped at yuuji’s words, shaking him a bit as he continued to carry him to wherever he was taking him, (nobara isn’t sure why she decided to help, actually. this was ruining her peace and quiet). 

“ouch! you don’t think your own mentor is hot with the ladies?!” gojo suddenly stopped walking when he noticed a familiar black-haired first year who stopped in the doorway to the school, staring at the scene in front of him. 

for a few seconds, megumi stared at gojo, hoping that silence would hopefully be enough to exclude him from whatever was going on right now. 

“megumiii~! come help us with yuuji~!” 

“no thanks.”

“me~gu~mi~!” 

“i’m busy.” 

--

you’re not sure what’s going on right now. 

you had been walking with maki and panda back from training, the three of you talking about getting a bite to eat somewhere good after taking showers and freshening up, (you felt pretty cool that you were able to hang out with the second-years, so you were pretty excited about it). 

when the three of you had heard a giant racket from behind you, none of you had expected to turn around and find gojo and the other first years restraining yuuji as they were sprinting your way at quite the alarming speed, (gojo was holding yuuji like a cat, his hands under his armpits while megumi and nobara were half-heartedly crouch-running while holding his legs). 

“aahhh!! let me go!! let go!!” yuuji was yelling, trying his best to wrangle himself out of gojo’s grip. 

“what in the world…” you said in shock, preparing to get out of the way since they didn’t seem to be slowing down, (would they willingly crash into all you? nah…right?). 

they all suddenly stopped right in front of you, unceremoniously dropping yuuji. he didn’t lose his balance though, standing up straight away and throwing his hands up in anger. 

“hey!! what’s the big idea here?!” he was yelling, his face twisted in confusion and frustration. “you can’t just pick me up and take me wherever you want!!”

“actually, i can! maki, panda!! let’s scram!!” gojo said, a big smile on his face as he started shooing them off. 

“hah? why should we-?” 

“c’mon c’monnnn! listen to your teacher for once!” gojo interrupted, taking hold of both of their shoulders and pulling them along with him. “ oh, and (y/n)! yuuji has something to say to you!” megumi and nobara followed behind him as they shook their heads, leaving you and yuuji staring at them in shock as they all walked away. 

“what the hell just happened…?” you asked, your question hanging in the air as you watched them all promptly exit the scene, (you could still hear maki arguing with gojo in the distance which you thought was a bit funny). 

yuuji didn’t answer your question, his jaw hanging wide open as he watched everyone walk away and leave him there. 

“uh, yuuji…? you alright? gojo-sensei said you have something to say?” you asked, a bit concerned. yuuji was finally looking at you, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to say something, (were his cheeks pink? are you imagining things?). it was odd to see him acting so timid, especially when he was usually so excited and friendly. maybe he was finally making a move? 

no, you shouldn’t get your hopes up. 

“i…uhh…” he managed to let out, his hands moving to his head to mess with his hair. you nodded patiently, waiting for him to say something. 

“yes?” 

“i…you…uhhhh…” he shook his head, his hands suddenly slapping his cheeks. “i like you!!” he exclaimed, his eyes screwed shut. “i really like you and panda said that you liked a guy from kyoto so i wasn’t going to say anything but nobara said i should go for it and i wasn’t going to but then gojo-sensei dragged me all the way here so i kinda feel like i have to say it now! i’m sorry!!!” you stared as he talked, not even taking a breath between his sentences as words poured out of his mouth. at the end of it he bowed deeply to you, his arms stiff at his sides. 

all you could do was stare at him for a few moments, his talking being too fast for your brain to process all at once. the silence was thick over the two of you as he anxiously waited for an answer from you, whose eyes were blown wide as you realized what was happening right now. 

the first thing you did was gently grab his shoulders, pulling him up from his bow and smiling at him, your hands moving to hold his, (you found it cute that his palms were sweating a bit). 

the second thing you did was giggle a bit at his flushed and embarrassed expression; you didn’t think you’d ever see him like this, but you were glad that you were. 

“yuuji! i thought you would never say anything! i like you too~!” now he was the one staring at you with wide eyes, his gaze flicking down to look at your joined hands, then back up to your smiling face. 

“me? you like me?!” he asked in shock. 

“of course, silly!” you answered, squeezing his hands a bit. “i’ve liked you since the first day i met you. i was waiting for you to realize!” yuuji continued gaping at you, his shock extremely evident on his face. “was it really not that obvious?” 

“i’m kinda stupid, so i didn’t know…” he mumbled, his eyes staring deeply into your own, almost as if he was searching for your feelings in them. a smile suddenly bloomed on his face, his shock melting away as he gave you the most genuine and happy grin you’ve ever seen in your life, (you’re being blinded!!). 

“will you let me be your boyfriend?” he asked, lacing your fingers together. “i can’t say that i’m the smartest and i can’t say that i’m the strongest, but i will do my best to make you happy!” 

there was a particular shine of complete and utter love in his brown eyes that beamed a light straight into your heart; a complete k.o!

“guh, yuuji…” you said, your head dropping down. “my heart…” 

“what?! are you okay, (y/n)??” 

“ahhh, you’re so cute…!” you exclaimed, popping your head back up to beam at him. “let’s go do something!! right now!” 

“r-right now!? where-?!” you cut his words off by starting to drag him with you, beginning to jog a bit. he confusedly jogged behind you, but despite his confusion his hand held yours in a firm grip, blindly following your lead as you led the both of you down the halls. 

“somewhere! wherever we find something cool!” you giggled, going outside the school and leading him in the direction of the city. “let’s get some good food! oh, and maybe we can watch a movie or something! didn’t you want to watch that worm movie?” 

“human earthworm 4? seriously?! you’ll see it with me??” yuuji asked, his expression dumbfounded and elated at the same time. 

“of course! i would do anything if it was with you!” 

“h-huh?! anything?!”

“yep! anything!” you smiled, looking back at him. his cheeks were completely flushed by this point, the pink shade being darker than his hair color. even more obvious than his flustered state though was how happy he was; his face was contorted in the most beautiful grin you think you’ve ever seen and you almost trip over your own feet because you’re so happy too. 

“...i-i would do anything too! if it was with you!” he exclaimed, unconsciously helping you jump over a big root in the pathway. “i think anything would be good if it had you!” 

“do you mean it?” 

“of course i do!! i feel like you always have this sort of aura that’s just like whoosh! and then i just feel better, even if my lunch got stolen out of the fridge!” 

“haha, i have an aura? don’t worry though, i’ll protect your lunches from now on!! you won’t need my aura because-!” 

“no, i do need your aura! always!” 

“hmm, well i guess we could arrange that, right?” you mused, giggling. yuuji’s eyes drifted to his view of your smile, your joyful expression making his heart go ten times faster than it already was. 

hey! not that he’s complaining…it’s really nice, so….his heart rate be damned!! 

yuuji doesn’t know if there’s a god out there or a higher power, but he hopes that he can be able to relive this moment with you forever, (would it be too much for him to ask to be with you forever? it would be, right?).

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Fics with 500 Kudos or Less!

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like we're the last people on earth by @pessimisticidealist | Lando/George | T | 17.6K

Lando joins Mercedes alongside George Russell for the 2026 season. George expects it to go poorly, incredibly so. And he's correct. The characterizations in this one are clear and feel very real, the tangled emotions and the potential catastrophes falling slowly into something terrible and wonderful and complex. Alex's involvement in the whole ordeal turns it into a wonderful exploration of the 2019 rookies.

Lewis was right, ultimately, George thinks; his only consolation is that it isn’t Alex who he’s going to destroy, who’s going to destroy him. Maybe Lando is a little more oblivious, but — no, no, he knows they will consume each other and themselves, if not this year then next, if not the next then not long after. Nico still floats around the paddock on race weekends like a lost moon, still interviews Lewis with longing heavy in his voice. Lewis speaks to him like he would any other reporter. George doesn’t want to do that to Lando, either. He doesn’t want Lando to do that to him. “Thrilled, of course, Lando’s a good mate,” he tells the press, with vacant eyes and a fixed smile. “No one deserves the Merc drive more than him.”

plant new seeds in the melody by @lellabella | Lando/Oscar | T | 20k

In this magical realism AU, Lando and Oscar are both still McLaren drivers, with one small twist: they both have powers. The worldbuilding in this fic was exceptional: vivid and so well developed, I could picture it all unfolding before my eyes. Both Lando and Oscar's powers fit them so well, and I love how the author carefully built the development of their relationship around them becoming more comfortable with each other's abilities. Despite all powers, though, they are still so very Lando and Oscar at the core of this fic, and I loved the characterisation and writing so much.

But now that Lando is the senior driver, he's supposed to be the one who handles his feelings with maturity, not hopelessly crushing on a younger rookie. This isn't ogling handsome Carlos from afar; he wants to wrap Oscar in a blanket and make him hot chocolate and know that he's okay. He wants to see Oscar smile not just because it's pretty but because he genuinely cares about his happiness. That part is new.

nsfw: live in five by @danifesting | Daniel/Max | E | 25k

Daniel discovers Max's Twitch stream and quickly becomes obsessed with them. This fic explores Max and Daniel getting to know each other and learn each other. I really liked the Max characterisation in this. Very direct but also very open to learn. One of my favourite parts is the mod group chat and how it serves as extra information for the reader, set's the tone nicely and helps you understand the overal context of Max and Daniel.

“I should probably explain my different set-up. This is not permanent. I will be back to my normal room at home in two weeks but for now, I am visiting my boyfriend.” electricsld: oh! a boyfriend! andpussycats: say more max dr3rd: yeah maxy, say more “Well, he is very sweet and he does not mind that I need to stream while I visit him. We live in different places, so we, of course, do not get to see each other very often, but it has been very nice to visit.” dr3rd: is he handsome? Max wants to roll their eyes at Daniel fishing for compliments but they contain themself. “Yes, very handsome. So handsome I cannot believe he picked me.”

I Know Your Name (But Not Who You Are) by @wanderingblindly | Charles/Max | T | 7.7k

Charles isn't in Monaco anymore, instead, now he's in Arizona. He's suffered loss at the hands of racing. Max turns up unexpectedly. Great fic if you want to cry and sob and scream into your pillow at 2 am! Amazing writing that just makes you want to lie in bed and contemplate life :) this is such an underrated fic!

There’s not another soul in the desert, just the brief rustle of an autumnal breeze ghosting along the loose earth. But behind Charles’s eyelids, in the space between him and the world above, it’s them. It hasn’t been them in a long time, he hasn’t let himself think of it. He isn’t running from anything, fluttering from city to city, crossing oceans he never touched as a boy. He’s searching, maybe, for a place where the wind can blow it all away. The sun feels warm as he raises his arm, fingers outstretched as he tries to hold that boundless blue in his palm.

nsfw: Everybody Wants to Rule the World by @kaytheologiearchive | Nico/Sebastian | E | 23k

It's 2022, Sebastian is driving for Aston Martin when their new team principal is announced – Nico Rosberg. The author said it best herself – this fic is all about "the absolute fantasy of being the villains favourite girl". And Nico makes a lovely villain, snarky and a bit pretentious but with the ability to back up his words and make his promises reality. I especially love Seb's character arc, starting with 2022!Seb, reluctantly forced to accept that his world champion days are over, to then finding his spark again under Nicos guidance and returning back to his charming, selfish, index-finger-in-the-air ways. Really they are both absolute assholes in this but thats what makes them perfect for each other.

“I’m here for the same reason you are,” he says, megawatt smile back on his face. “To win you a title.”Seb sits back in his seat, grinning bitterly. “Don’t let Stroll hear you say that. The only reason he bought this team is to try to get a title for his son. I’m just here to play mentor until they build us a car one of us can win with, and then he’ll turn me loose.” He doesn’t add, just like Ferrari did. He doesn’t have to.Nico scoffs. Seb’s met so few people who actually scoff in real life. “Lance Stroll,” he says, disdain dripping around every consonant, “is never winning a title. You still could, though, and you know it. You’d have retired if you didn’t think so.” Seb opens his mouth, prepared to contradict him, and Nico silences him with a wave of his hand. “Don’t give me your go-to line about the love of the sport. You’ve only ever been here for one reason. The media might forget, you might even want them to forget, but I know what you’re really like.”“And what’s that?” Seb asks. Against his better instincts, and even though he knows Nico can’t have a single good motive for being here, he’s intrigued by whatever Nico’s about to say. Nico’s always been an enigma to him, Nico’s opinion of him doubly so.“You’re ruthless,” Nico says, almost in a whisper. “You’re brutal, and ambitious, and you’ll do whatever you have to to take everything you want.”

Rabbit, Rabbit (it takes a village) by @481boxboxbaby | Lando/Oscar | M | 25k

Oscar wakes up to find four baby bunnies in his shower. In the world of this story, that's as good as peeing on a stick. This boy is knocked up, and there are six possible baby daddies. This is a sweet, funny and heartfelt fic that takes a cracky idea (magic bunnies means you're pregnant) and treats it seriously. Oscar is definitely a bit of a pillow princess and good time guy - that's why he has bunnies - and the fic follows his journey of self discovery, growing as a person along the way and learning that knowing himself is far more important than knowing who the daddy is. The guy who steps up, and who Oscar chooses in the end, is maybe a little unexpected but it absolutely worked for me.

“Oh,” Oscar blushes a fierce shade of red. “We’re not a throuple. They’re just friends. I mean, maybe one of them is the other father but - um - that’s sort of the thing.” The midwife raises an eyebrow and cocks her head to the side, waiting for him to go on. Oscar instead looks at Liam and Logan, desperate for one of them to bail him out. “You see, there’s a roster,” Logan says, his expression awfully serious like he’s trying to be as tactful as possible, even if he did just start off by outing Oscar as a hoe.

THREE SCENES IN A CITY by @loveisworry | Alex/Charles | T | 6.8k

Charles and Alex and a party. This is the kind of fic that you read, and then you remember for the rest of your life. This is a truly stunning urban fantasy, very immersive and atmospheric.

'Charles, the city’s chosen son, knows these streets better than the backs of his hands, which are often smeared with ink. There’s a scar where his left thumb joins the meat of his hand that he always forgets about. He’s had it since he was a child, and doesn’t remember it’s there because he doesn’t remember how he got it. Without a story to hang onto it disappears'

[everliving-everblaze]

Fitz's characterization is so interesting and so hard. He's both very kind AND a bit of an entitled jerk, and most people only manage to capture one of the two.

I think this is well-illustrated in the first few chapters of the series. Fitz and Sophie spend a lot of these chapters rolling their eyes and sniping at each other, because they both have an attitude about the whole thing. In particular, Fitz has his attitude about elvin superiority, and Sophie immediately responds to that negatively.

He'd never heard of Albert Einstein? The theory of relativity was dumb? She wasn't sure how to argue. He seemed so ridiculously confident—it was unnerving.

On the other hand, it's very clear that Fitz's heart is in the right place (or at least, a well-meaning place). He has his attitude of elvin superiority, but he's thrilled to welcome Sophie into it as well.

Fitz nudged her arm. "Hey. It's not your fault. You believed what they taught you—I'm sure I'd have done the same thing. But it's time you knew the truth. This is how the world really works. It's not magic. It's just how it is."

(And undoubtedly, he's right. He would have believed what he'd been taught—he did, just different beliefs!)

The thing is, Sophie doesn't particularly want to jump aboard the elvin superiority train that he's so excited about.

"Well, it's like you're saying, 'Hey, Sophie, take everything you've ever learned about anything and throw it away.'" "Actually, that is what I'm saying." He flashed a smug grin. "Humans do the best they can—but their minds can't begin to comprehend the complexities of reality." "And what, elves' minds are better?" "Of course.

Fitz reads as a total jerk with what he's saying! He's completely ignorant of the fact that his belief that humans are stupid and evil is like, gonna hurt Sophie's feelings. Because that's what he's been taught!

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Fitz's character is hugely about prejudice, about people who believe what they are taught, even though it's wrong. And his character is about those people who then have to relearn their beliefs!

Fitz makes so much progress throughout the series in combating his own prejudice, largely through befriending Sophie. His character arc is one of my absolute favorites from any media, ever. I've gone through a lot of the same things he has, having to learn about prejudice and deal with my own biases, the lies that I was taught. His character is very meaningful to me!

But I think that's a piece that so often gets missed when people try to capture Fitz's character. Some people only see the bad parts and choose to portray him as totally evil. Some people focus on the good parts and portray him as more of a victim.

But I don't think either interpretation is totally right. Fitz is nuanced. He means well and truly tries to be kind within his worldview, and once he truly starts to realize his worldview is bad, he works on it! That's way more than a lot of people do. But he he makes a lot of mistakes along the way.

That's a fascinating, relevant character. And that's why he'll always be one of my favorites.

[bambi-kinos]

people’s arguments about why john has to be a bottom and not paul tend to regurgitate the same critique these people have about paul (“you say he’s a bottom just because he’s feminine!”) by bringing up john’s appearance and more femme attitude after ‘68 and then saying how paul is more masc because of his body / facial hair. i also feel like a lot of people still conflate dom/sub with top/bottom when it comes to mclennon. though i haven’t thought about the societal perception of receiving / giving, i had an ohhh moment when i read that in your post. i personally will always be a fan of service top john paired with a power bottom paul, but john being servicy to me doesn’t mean he’s “submissive” in the typical way. i think he can be dominant and aggressive with paul but that’s because paul allows him to be. like what you said about paul enjoying being john’s second and being put in his place by more domineering and strong men. there’s a lot of power play that goes on in their sexual relationship and it deeply fascinates me!

people’s arguments about why john has to be a bottom and not paul tend to regurgitate the same critique these people have about paul (“you say he’s a bottom just because he’s feminine!”) by bringing up john’s appearance and more femme attitude after ‘68 and then saying how paul is more masc because of his body / facial hair.

Yes, it gets very transparent for exactly those reasons. What makes me roll my eyes about the “you say he’s a bottom just because he’s feminine!” thing is that anyone who bitches about this can only imagine switching the roles and having Paul by a hypermasculine stoic (which breaks characterization) and having John be a hyperfeminine bottom (which is also OOC). I don't think that the original complaints are necessarily a bad thing, there is an iteration problem in McLennon fandom where Paul can sometimes be reduced to a weepy princess, though I haven't heard of any fics coming out in the past 5 years that actually made this mistake. But it does annoy me that fandom can only imagine flipping the script and having John be the weepy bottom princess. It never leads to something more creative or interesting being produced where John and Paul's roles, both self assigned and imposed on them, are discussed especially for the effect it had their relationship.

It would be interesting to explore John's femme qualities but I think that fans are hesitant about going there because they would have to admit that John's passivity in 1968 was induced by his heroin addiction which destroyed his life and his relationships. There's never any appreciating John's femininity when he wasn't on heroin even though 1965 is arguably when John was at the most soft spoken and open minded. I find it a little sad that John's feminine qualities are only appreciated when he was at the peak of his hatefulness and addiction.

i also feel like a lot of people still conflate dom/sub with top/bottom when it comes to mclennon.

A lot of that is wish fulfillment IMO. Especially since Paul fans are usually the ones driving it and it's pretty universal that we want to see him get railed, not really the other way around. We like him because he's so poundable. So it's nice that he has a built in boyfriend who's willing to fuck him until he cries, you know. And it's easy to classify that as top/bottom::dom/sub.

McLennon is very subtle in some ways because of the give and take between John and Paul was so weird and it's just really difficult for us as outsiders to grasp. John and Paul themselves are baffled and confused by it. It makes me wonder if part of their dissolution was the fact that they didn't understand how much power they held over the other one which meant that they couldn't understand why their decisions were having such profound effects on the other person. They seem profoundly frustrated and bewildered by the undercurrents of their relationship where they perfectly fulfill each other in all ways except one, and how deeply unsatisfying their other relationships have been in comparison.

I think @amoralto damaged the fandom for this in some ways because she ended up having a popular blog which meant that her interpretations of John in particular were xeroxed over and over. The problem with this being that I don't think amoralto fully appreciated the power dynamic between John and Paul and her bias against John crept into her opinions which means that they screwed up the fandom discourse. If you go purely by her public posts then amoralto appears to be under the impression that John was a hysteric that was perpetually shitting himself about Paul one upping him. There is some truth to that but it's also not the whole story because Paul's ability to pull the rug out from under John was always a source of pride, fascination, love, and eroticism for John. Yesterday rocked John's world but he was also proud of Paul for being such an incredible artist and he was always pleased about being the one who discovered Paul. He was always aware that Paul had a lot of power over him and John both reveled and despaired in that.

This relates to the top/bottom::dom/sub thing because this dynamic would naturally play out in an erotic relationship between John and Paul. There's the surface layer where John is railing Paul but then there's the additional layer where Paul is the one enticing John to do it by showing his ass off (like really, who do you think those tight cut trousers are for?) and inviting John to put his cock inside Paul. And then there's the part where John's butch attitude and even some of his violence was egged on and encouraged by Paul who was most likely turned on by John punching people out. Paul was not the slightest bit put off by John being a violent person or else he would have bailed within a year of knowing him. When Julia died, Paul is the only one who had patience with John who was getting drunk and getting into fights…meanwhile there's a femmeboi in the background making soothing noises and cleaning him up so that he's fit for company. Really makes the your mind run wild with possibilities huh? Who is to say Paul didn't say "c'mon Johnny, just put it in me mouth and I'll fix you up." Or something!

The point is Paul is ultimately in control of the situation. This is supposed to be what dom/sub set ups are supposed to be anyway, subs are the ones who dictate the conditions in the bedroom. But considering how John built Paul up in his mind, it seems clear that Paul had a lot of overt power over John too. They don't fit neatly into the dom/sub set up either.

They switched power positions constantly and they got a lot of pleasure out of dominating but also being dominated. Paul liked being on top and being on bottom and John liked it when he got to be on top of Paul and when Paul crushed him. The pleasure was in the struggle itself, not necessarily the positions in of themselves.

though i haven’t thought about the societal perception of receiving / giving, i had an ohhh moment when i read that in your post.

It's not nearly as prevelent now though it still lingers. But heteronormativity really dictated the nature of a lot of relationships in the past.

i personally will always be a fan of service top john paired with a power bottom paul, but john being servicy to me doesn’t mean he’s “submissive” in the typical way. i think he can be dominant and aggressive with paul but that’s because paul allows him to be.

IMO there's a lot of truth to this! @zilabee has a really nice post about how John and Paul could afford to be gentle with one another and wrote love songs together. I think that a service top john/power bottom paul really fits this dynamic because it allowed John and Paul to express themselves to each other which solidified their mutual trust and their bond.

In a lot of ways Paul was an ideal partner for John in that he was someone John could have sex with that didn't have consequences (such as pregnancy) while Paul also had the feminine beauty that John really loved. (There's a quote from Yoko I think that John claimed if he fell in love with another man then that man would have to be extremely beautiful. Handsome is not enough.) John could probably be a lot rougher with Paul who could stand up to being tossed around a bit if needed but was beautiful enough for John to fuck tenderly too. Paul wasn't afraid of John's rough side and even encouraged it and decided to love it. In some ways John being a service top lets him express that roughness sexually with someone who won't break in half from being treated like a sack of potatoes. And there wouldn't be judgment from Paul either because he is still a man and experienced the same puberty and testosterone that John did including the same struggles with temper, the bodily changes, etc. He knows where John is coming from whereas a 1960s woman would not. (The transwomen, crossdressers, and homosexuals in Hamburg may have been John's first explicit taste of this. People who were familiar with what growing up as a male would be like so they didn't judge John for his proclivities and interests.)

In other words, John could express himself sexually with Paul in a way that he probably couldn't with women. Paul was fine with it judging from that photo of John's nutsack against his back and it fulfilled his needs as well!

like what you said about paul enjoying being john’s second and being put in his place by more domineering and strong men. there’s a lot of power play that goes on in their sexual relationship and it deeply fascinates me!

Yes! John overwhelms and dominates Paul but it's because Paul wants it to happen. He relied on John's intuition and discernment and ultimately his trust in John to carry it through. John has a partner who can't get pregnant when he climaxes inside him and then can take it on the chin when John is rough and/or degrading. All while he's sharply aware of how much Paul likes it which itself feeds into John's eros, and so on and on…

[inthedoghousern]

just this once

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!driver!reader

summary: you and oscar are what people would describe as rivals. but a night in monaco, a club, an elevator, and confessions can change everything.

contains: 18+, suggestive content, swearing probably idk, drinking + alcohol, events leading up to sex (?) but nothing too graphic, kinda fluff and angst

5.5k words

a/n: this is too long and there's very little characterization but enjoy i suppose... part II: okay part III: 11:45

You were smiling as you chatted with a guy at the party. The music was blasting around you and the lights were colorful. You were in Monaco, celebrating your first Grand Prix here. Despite being a rookie, you had placed second in the race, an impressive and historic performance, especially since you were the first woman to do it. 

It felt like the whole weekend had been revolving around you. At the track, there was a sea of fans, journalists, and even employees from other teams coming up to congratulate and talk to you. Now here at the club, it was the same, with stranger after stranger wanting a slice of your attention. 

"So how long are you in Monaco?" He asked leaning against the high-top table, with a sly smile on his lips. “We should see each other again.” Before you could answer, you heard a voice behind you. 

"She's cant, we've got more racing to do. It's the job." You rolled your eyes, the familiar voice belonged to no other than Oscar Piastri. 

You and Oscar’s friendship, if you could even call it that, was complicated. What started as kinship during karting years turned into resentment as you made your way up the motorsport ranks together. F4 British Championship, the Renault Eurocup, F3, F2, the two of you were always close competitors, but Oscar always had an edge. You’d be runner-up to his championships, watched as he got a seat in Formula One while all you could do was keep racing in lower divisions and hope you could prove to any team that you would be a valuable driver. 

But now you’ve made it, it’s your rookie season and you’ve finally started to beat Oscar, and it helps when you’re in a Red Bull. Podium after podium after podium, you’ve already blown Oscar’s impressive rookie stats out of the water. As a result, the rivalry between you has only grown bigger. 

“Oh Oscar you actually weren’t involved in this conversation,” you say giving him a fake sweet smile. He claims he can’t stand you, but here he is going out of his way to make your night difficult. Typical. 

You turn back to the guy in front of you. His name was Alex… William…? You honestly didn’t remember and had no interest in finding out, but it was amusing to see him throw himself at you. Amusing that Oscar came over and has to witness it. "I'm actually here for a few more days," you tell him. You pull your phone out of your bag and slide it towards the unnamed guy. “Put your number in. We can set something up later.” The guy smiles, and you fight back a laugh as Oscar still stands at the table with you two. You had no intention of ever texting or speaking to this man again. 

-

The night goes by in a blur. You’ve lost the guy you were talking to earlier and make your way to the bar to order another drink. Your life feels like some sick joke when Oscar slides up next to you and orders himself another round too. “That guy looked like a prick,” he says. 

You chuckle and nod your head in agreement. “Yeah, he did look like a prick."

The media and fans had characterized Oscar as this nice, young, shy guy. But the Oscar you knew was deathly competitive with a bit of a mean streak. 

“Why do you care though?” I ask turning to him, cocking my head to the side. “Care what guys I talk to at parties? I mean, if that dude was Zak Brown, sure, I’d see why you’d stop me from stealing your seat, but….” I taunt. 

"Alright watch it," he said while shaking his head. You roll your eyes, you know that he can’t do anything in retaliation to your teasing. You were the star now, you were his rival [who’s winning] and you were untouchable.

You finish your drink and turn to the dance floor, “see ya Oscar,” you say flashing him a smile. You can feel his eyes burning your back as you walk away.  

-

This club felt like a time warp. As you danced and talked and drank, you saw gridmates and girlfriends walk past, at one point Lando was up at the DJ booth. Your head is fuzzy and you don’t know what time it is. You push through sweaty bodies to the tables surrounding the room, shuffling around to find your things. Finally, you’re able to find your bag, and luckily your phone is still inside, so you make your way out of the club. You need some quiet and fresh air as you sort out transportation back to the hotel. You were throwing in the towel for the night. 

Outside the music was still spilling from the doors, filling your ears with the sounds from the club. You checked your phone, trying to get it to work. Your vision was slightly blurred from all the alcohol, you were probably drunk.

“Hey,” you hear, it’s him, again. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard Oscar's voice coming from behind you. You couldn't help but feel some nerves running through your body. You had just spent the night ignoring him and now he was here. You didn't turn around to look at him, you weren't sure what would happen if you did.

With your phone finally unlocked, you call an Uber. With that task finished, you turn, feeling wobbly, and when you look at Oscar he looks just as drunk as you. “Hey.”

“I’m leaving,” you tell him. 

"I'll leave with you," Oscar responds immediately, sounding annoyed. "Why do you have to leave so soon?" He asked. 

“Leave so soon? We've been here for hours,” you reply. You don’t address his first statement, but your mind is circling the fact he just decided he was coming with you. He didn’t even ask if he could, if you wanted him to, he just announced it. 

"Doesn't mean it's time to go," Oscar said as he stepped closer. He put his hands on your shoulders, his breath smelling like alcohol. "Why don't we go back inside?" He asked. What was he thinking? You didn't pull away, it was the alcohol. You couldn't stop your mind from being hazy, you couldn't help the sensations of his hand on your shoulder. You put your hands on his biceps in response and look at him in the eyes. “No Oscar, I’m leaving.” 

For a moment, everything felt as if it was going in slow motion. Oscar stood there, his hands on your shoulders, as you looked directly at the most beautiful most infuriating guy you had ever known. You spoke firmly, but it was clear that you were struggling. Oscar was drunk and stubborn as always, he wasn't letting this go easily.

“Hmmm?” I muse. My brain is so fuzzy I almost don’t notice his grip on my shoulders tightening. “I’m leaving Oscar. You can share my Uber back to the hotel, go back inside, or do something else. But I’m going.” Oscar said nothing. He was breathing heavily against you, his grip tightening even more. For some reason, his grip felt good.

"I'll go with you," he said, finally, his voice was low. “Alright,” you respond. You stand, he's still holding your shoulders, your hands still on his biceps. You don't know how long passes, but the Uber pulls up to the curb and you both let go of each other. You climb into the back seat and Oscar sits next to you, his body barely a foot away from yours.

The journey to the hotel is mostly silent, but you catch Oscar stealing glances at you.

“Looks like you partied a little hard for P9, no?” You tease. "Shut up," Oscar grumbled, you were pushing him right to his limits. You knew that he was angry, but you couldn't help but poke fun at him. You felt good when you could get one over on him for once. For the rest of the ride to the hotel, Oscar is silent. Every time you look at him, he quickly looks away. It was a side of him that you had rarely seen, the way he looked so unsure and uncomfortable.

-

You both step out of the Uber and walk into the hotel. It's late at night and the lobby is almost empty. Oscar follows you into the elevator, you can feel the heat from his body radiating against you. The elevator doors close and you are in your own little world. He presses the button to his floor: 6, and you press the button to yours: 9. You both stand side by side as the elevator slowly moves up. 

The elevator rises, and just like the car journey, Oscar is quiet. A quiet that feels so much more intimate in this small space with the two of you pressed up against each other. Neither of you speaks, you are lost in the moment. It's almost as if the elevator is going too slow, or too fast? You don't want this moment to end.

The bright lights of the elevator and the presence of Oscar sober you up a little bit, just a little bit. You’re hyperaware of the floor numbers changing, getting closer to floor 6, where you and Oscar will have to separate. Oscar's body felt warm against you. You wanted to grab him and hold him close to you, but it would be wrong. You knew that he would most likely pull away from you. 

This has to be goodbye.

“Why didn’t you want me to leave the party?” you ask. Oscar didn't expect that question. You could see it in the way his eyes widened before they narrowed back to the previous stoic state. "I didn't want you to leave because..." He said before pausing. He took a deep breath before continuing. "I wanted you to stay, with me." He said, his voice quiet. You don’t respond. What Oscar says makes your heart jump into your throat. You weren’t supposed to be having these conversations, you certainly weren’t supposed to be having them with Oscar, someone who you can’t stand. Someone who can’t stand you. It’s the alcohol you tell yourself. 

Ding.

You’re on floor 6. 

The elevator doors open, and Oscar doesn't move, instead, he looks at you.

You look back, your mind is racing a mile a minute. He is just staring at you, waiting for you to speak. You felt the heat of his body, the smell of his breath, and the beat of his heart. The air felt so heavy between you both. “You’re supposed to hate me,” you say quietly. Seconds are passing and Oscar is still in the elevator with you. If he doesn’t get out soon the doors are going to shut and you’re both going to keep going up to your floor. Oscar still wasn't getting off, he seemed lost in a trance. It felt like the world had stopped as you looked at him. He didn't respond to your words, his breath was so close to your face.

“Do you hate me?” you say just above a whisper. You are staring at each other now. The elevator doors close and continue up to your floor, and Oscar’s still in here with you. 

"I used to hate you," Oscar said, his voice was soft, and you could hear no anger in his tone. "But..." he paused, and the elevator continued to rise. The both of you were standing inches apart. "But not anymore." He finished. 

You wanted to grab him. Hold his face. Kiss him. Let him do whatever he wanted. No stop. This has to be the alcohol. It has to be. What would everyone say if they found out you were thinking these things about one of your gridmates? Your competition. Your rival. 

What would happen if you just went for it? Just one kiss. You know you’d both regret it, but just one kiss couldn't hurt...could it?

Ding. The doors open. You quickly step back from Oscar, regaining your senses. You exit the elevator and don’t care to check if he’s following you. You hope he’s not. 

You walk to your room, still not looking back at the elevator. You get to the door and fumble for the hotel keycard in your purse. You can feel the heat rising on the back of your neck as you think about what just happened between you and Oscar. Your hands were slightly shaking, your heart was beating wildly and you felt lightheaded. You finally get the door open and quickly shut it behind you. You stand in the entryway for a beat before throwing your purse down, taking your shoes off, and lying down on the bed staring at the ceiling.

Was he going to say anything to you in the morning? Would he act like it never happened? What if we both act like this never happened? Was he going to knock on your door?

You lay there in bed, your mind racing. The alcohol was slowly fading away from your system, but the memories were still clear in your mind. You were still feeling the heat of his body against yours and the smell of his cologne. You were so conflicted, you should be upset and mad. You shouldn't be enjoying the thought of him coming to your door and saying more. That was Oscar, you hated Oscar, you weren't supposed to want him.

You sit up. You need to go to sleep and just clear your head of this. You wash your face and change, all the while thoughts of Oscar run through your mind. You look at yourself in the mirror, is that what Oscar saw when he looked at you?

You crawl into bed, you are still on a high after the party and the adrenaline from Oscar. You close your eyes, trying to distract yourself. But as soon as you closed your eyes, you could only picture him. You could picture his lips when he spoke, his jawline. You could picture the look in his eyes when he looked at you. Your mind was so focused on his body, what it would feel like, what it would taste like to kiss him. Fuck.

-

Your heart stops when you hear a knock at your door. You don't know what time it is or how long you've been lying in bed fighting sleep. 

The knock came again; louder this time. You get out of bed, your heart beating quicker with every step you take. Was it even Oscar out there? You reached the hotel door. Your breath was shaky, it felt like your entire body was trembling. This was it. Now you were truly in this. You put your hand on the handle, the knocking continued again, more persistent this time.

As you threw the door open, you came face to face with Oscar. He was standing there, in the same outfit as he had been at the party. He was staring directly at you, his breath was warm as he exhaled. You could swear he didn't even blink at this moment, his eyes were just glued to yours.

“Yes?” I ask. "Can I come in?" Oscar says, sounding a little bit nervous, and more sober than earlier. You’re at a loss for words. A few hours (?) ago the only words you exchanged were about hating each other [or rather, not hating each other], and now he was asking to come into your room.

Oscar was still holding his gaze, eyes locked straight on yours. You could see it on his face, there was something he wanted from you, something that he hadn't been able to communicate until now. "Please?" Oscar said, his voice was low. You had never in the 8 years you had known Oscar seen him like this. 

“Okay.” You move to the side, motioning him inside your hotel room. Oscar walks in and for a moment, neither of you spoke. There was a certain level of nervousness in the way he was moving. He didn't make any attempt to get close to you initially, it was like he was waiting for your permission. “What do you want Oscar?” I ask folding my arms across my chest. “Please tell me what you’re thinking, I can’t do this guessing game thing anymore.”

Oscar didn't respond right away, he was trying to decide what he should say. You could see as he processed through every thought, looking at you as if he was holding something back. After a few seconds, the words came spewing out, he didn't want to waste any more time.

"I want you to kiss me. I want to kiss you. I want you. That’s what I want." Oscar finally admitted.

Your arms fall to your sides and your heart skips a beat. Oh my god. Oscar stands in front of you and your body is heating up, your brain is getting fuzzy, this time it isn’t the alcohol. “Oscar I-“ you don’t know what to say. 

It was like time had stopped for the both of you. Your breaths were shaky, the silence was deafening. You wanted to wrap yourself around him. It was all just adrenaline now, just one kiss, that's what you wanted. 

You stand looking at each other. You don’t know how long passes. You want him too. You really want him. You need him. But the rational part of your brain is screaming for you to stop. You can’t be with him, as a female F1 driver what would the world say if you got with another driver? What would your reputation be? They would call you a slut. But as Oscar stands in front of you, those thoughts, those warnings are fading away…

He takes a step closer. You don’t move away. He’s close now, too close, but you don’t care. You could feel the heat radiating from his body to yours. There were just inches between you two now. You didn't care about anything else, everything in your body was telling you yes. It was either now or never, your reputation would be the last thing on your mind in this moment.

He brings one of his hands to the side of your face and leans to kiss you. But your lips don’t meet and he hovers just above. Waiting. He wanted something from you, some signal that it was okay to go for it. You could taste his breath as he hovered above you, how many times had you wanted to taste him? You hadn't realized until now how strong this pull between the both of you was. Even if it was just alcohol, it didn't matter, your heart felt as if it would explode with this excitement.

“Oscar” you whisper. You’re looking at his lips, then his eyelashes, his eyes. 

“Just this once.”

The words left your mouth in a hoarse whisper like it felt too surreal to speak out loud. One kiss wouldn't hurt, you could tell him that was the only kiss you were going to let him have. He let out a small breath, and then the gap between your lips disappeared. He brought his face down, his lips touching yours. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close as your lips met his. As Oscar's hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, it was just you and him. Nothing else mattered. Just the heat, the desire and the love that had been building deep inside of both of you.

He breaks the kiss and kisses your collarbone, then up your neck, and then he’s right next to your ear. “Yeah, just this once” he whispers. You let out a shaky breath, his voice sent shivers down your spine. What was happening? Every minute seemed to take so long in the moment. The way Oscar's voice whispered in your ear, it felt like a sweet melody. If this was wrong, you would never know. The only thing you knew for sure right now was how much Oscar wanted you, how much you wanted him.

His mouth was warm, you could feel the moisture of his lips press against yours. You grab the hem of his shirt and he puts his arms up as you pull it off of him. When you drop the shirt aside you can’t help but stare at his body. His chest, his abs, his arms. You had seen him shirtless before, it was inevitable with the years of training you two had done together. But seeing him tonight like this, just the two of you, it was different. 

As you stared at him, he was just staring back, his hair was messy from the way you had pulled his shirt off. It felt like this was the only moment in the world.

His kisses were gentle like he was still trying to get a feel for the moment. You were in each other's grip as if you were locked together. The heat was building up, and you could feel your body burning up. Oscar's hand moved to your top now, pulling it over your head slowly, letting you feel every sensation as it fell to the floor. The way he looked at you as it fell to the ground...it was as if his eyes were going to burn a hole into you.

You’re usually quick with comebacks. Confident. But as you stand in front of him, you’re not insecure, but you have nothing to say. No words to taunt him with, it felt like your usual self was far removed from what was happening right now. 

You had never stood in front of Oscar so vulnerable before, his hands running up your body, his mouth kissing your neck. He was treating you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, the way he looked at you it was like he was seeing you for the first time. Oscar lies you down on the hotel bed. Hovering over you, one of his hands on your hip, the other pressed beside your head, holding him up. One of your hands is resting on your stomach, and you reach the other up and run it through his hair. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m sorry for being so horrible to you. I’ve acted…” you trail off. Why are you saying this? Why right now? It was the alcohol, it had to be. 

As he leaned over you, his breath was warm on your skin as he listened to everything you were saying. Your heart was beating so rapidly, you couldn't stop the words coming out of your mouth, but for once, you felt vulnerable in the right way.

"Don't-" Oscar said, pulling away from you slightly. "You don't need to apologize. We’ve both been… I don’t know…Everything has just been building for years, it got out of control, us. Whatever us was- is. I think I’ve always wanted ‘us’ to be this though."

His words make your head spin. "Us". "Out of control". "Always".

Always makes you laugh though, as you think back to when you first met Oscar.

“You wanted this during our Arden days? At 14?” You know shouldn’t joke right now, but everything is happening so fast, and you grasp for some sort of control over what you're feeling. 

He smiled back at you, he couldn't help smiling. One thing about the way you and Oscar's relationship worked, was it was always full of constant bantering and jabs at each other. It felt right to joke now. 

"I didn't say that," Oscar said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "But sure, you were attractive back then, even if you were a brat. Yeah, I did look at you during those days." 

A grin spreads across your face. What would 14-year-old you say if she knew you had Oscar Piastri on top of you in a hotel room after you podium in Monaco? She would be horrified. The realization was almost enough to pull you out of the moment. It truly was insane. The way Oscar was looking down at you, touching your body, it definitely did feel surreal, as if this was a dream.

"You remember those days?" Oscar asked, his voice soft and low as he shifted down to rest on his elbow, bringing his face down closer to yours. “Of course.” You say, looking at his face. He’s so beautiful. “You wouldn’t let me win a goddamn race.”

He let out a laugh, he couldn't help it, the humor of the situation had gotten to him.

"Damn right I didn't... are you still bitter about it?" He said mockingly, he was back to his usual self. “Nope,” you say with a smile, “because who just got second in Monaco? My first time driving that track in Formula One by the way.” Even in this uniquely intimate moment between the two of you, you are bickering. But it’s perfect. 

"Yeah yeah..." Oscar rolled his eyes. "You got lucky that's for sure, this race was a mess." He was back to being himself, the cocky, arrogant version that you were always arguing with. But you felt a different type of chemistry with him right now compared to the racetrack, this time it felt deeper than your usual bickering. You laugh and your hands are on his face again. Now that you have him like this, above you, relaxed, yours; you never want it to end. 

You smile and start tracing the freckles and moles on his face with your finger. Just this once. That was the deal. You want to savor every minute of this moment. A moment that after tonight, can never happen again. 

Oscar's eyes drifted down and he watched as you traced his face. It felt a little too perfect, the way you traced around everything...the way his breath felt on your skin...the way he was looking down at you with intent, his attention was just on you.

"I like this," Oscar finally said and his voice was hushed.

So do I. Is what you want to say. But if those words come out of your mouth everything becomes too real, and you’re not sure if you could ever stop what was already snowballing between the two of you. You simply hum in acknowledgment and continue to trace his freckles down to his arms, down to his wrists. You even traced your fingers along the top of his fingers. 

It was like nothing else existed at this moment, it was just the two of you, your bodies, and the heat. The heat was all that mattered. You wanted to see all of him. Commit. Go all the way. But even now you were mesmerized: his bare chest, back, stomach. You want to run your fingers through him. 

Oscar could feel your breath trailing on his neck, the feeling of your fingers trailing down his body, along his chest, and down his stomach. He felt as if any more of him was exposed to your touch, he would fall apart. He was like a hot glass ready to shatter, a moment away from cracking. He was at a loss, he couldn't even think of the next thing to say. All he knew was that he needed more.

Oscar looked at you, his eyes seemed to be filled with pure desire. He was leaning closer to you now, he was only inches away, his breath was touching your lips. His hand brushed past the clip of your bra, teasing every little part of you. Your back, your arms...he was taking his time with this. “It’s okay, you can…” you trail off. Yet again, you’re too embarrassed to say it. You can take the bra off. You hope he gets the hint. 

The smile on his face was almost cruel as he looked down at you. Was he really going to take this all so slowly and deliberately? He paused for a moment and then he slowly undid one of the clips. He did it so slowly and so precise, he was taking this at such a methodical pace, he wanted you to feel every. single. moment. A part of you wants to complain. How slow he was being. Both of your lives were filled with speed, in the cars, outside the cars. But most of you doesn't really care that he's taking his time. Tonight was the only night you’re allowing yourself to be with Oscar like this, might as well drag it out. 

He did the same thing with the next clip, and then slowly pulled down one of the straps. You did wonder how long he was going to take, it felt like your bra was not supposed to be an obstacle, but Oscar was making it one, on purpose. He had turned even such a simple task into something that felt so intimate.

The moment your bra finally came off a whole new feeling of powerlessness washed over you. You felt even more exposed than before. Your skin felt more sensitive, and everything felt more real. Each movement from him felt like it had double its usual meaning. Your breath caught as he pulled your body closer to him. The pressure of his body against yours was making your head spin. You felt so close to him, the warmth between the two of you was palpable. With each of his kisses, you could feel yourself growing even more desperate for him.

You could feel his finger tracing the outline of your shorts, slowly moving towards the waistband, finger hooking around the elastic. It was happening gradually, so it hit harder when he finally pulled down your shorts. Your underwear was the last barrier, and if it came off, this would officially be something that could never happen again. You were lying under just a layer of clothing. He was staring down at you with his intent gaze. You could feel every move of his, every muscle shifting, his breath hot on your body.

“You too, yeah?” You say with a nervous, breathy laugh. Your hands travel to his pants. And he sits up and leans back a bit, you sit up as well, and start unbuttoning them. It was almost comical, how slow you were both going in this moment. But it was also incredibly intimate. The two of you were both teasing each other in a game of cat and mouse. He was taking it in steps, he wanted to tease, to play, to show you how much he wanted you.

Your hands began unbuttoning his pants, inch by inch, you were both working in unison in the slow teasing. When you finish and start to pull the zipper down, Oscar quickly stands up to take the pants completely off. He wastes no time in getting back on top of you. You smile and hold back a laugh. 

His hands are on either side of your head and he’s looking down at you again, you two start laughing. If it was like this one night, how would it have been with you two together all the time? Would you have always been like this? A playful, teasing relationship, where you both were always just messing around, playing jokes on each other.

The two of you are so close, his boxers and your underwear are the only barrier between you now. You are one step away from the edge, one step away from doing something you can never take back. But you also wanted to take that step. It felt so close to happening. It was like your bodies were talking to one another, they craved to touch, to be pressed against each other. Each breath, each movement it felt as though you wanted to become one with each other.

The way the two of you were looking into each other's eyes, you could tell it was just a moment away. Oscar leaned in close to you, close enough to breathe on your neck, “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod and don’t say anything.

He chuckles as you nod. "You're so sure?" You smile and roll your eyes. He’s such an asshole. “Yes, I’m so sure.” Even with your response dripping in sarcasm, it’s set your feelings in stone. You want Oscar Piastri. 

Was it the alcohol in your system, was it the buildup of years of tension between the two of you, a mixture of both? It didn't matter, the only thing that mattered now was this very moment, this very moment with you and Oscar on this hotel bed. It was like the rest of the world would cease to exist, all that was important at this moment was the heat between the two of you, it filled you with such a warm, almost calming feeling. You both knew that this was it, there was no going back. But just this once you could let it happen. 

-

part II- okay part III- 11:45

[the-power-of-a-pen]

A Way Home

Fandom: Spiderverse

Summary: Following the loss of his alternate universe daughter, Miguel is reluctant to risk letting anyone close to him and breaking canon again. However, as most anomalies are returned to their universes, there's the issue of you. You don't have a universe to return to. So, after having you on his team for half a year, he adopts you as his child.

Word Count: 4654

Pairing?: Father-child relationship btwn Miguel and gn! reader.

Trigger Warnings: Some cursing, reader is hinted to having a traumatic past (very briefly and vaguely described), 1 reference to reader as "Spiderman" (meant as a gender-neutral phrase)

A/n: This turned out to be longer than I had planned b/c I realized how much I had to add to make the change of heart even slightly natural, so let me know if y'all want a part two of the reader and Miguel interacting further along the adoption. Not sure how I feel about the structure + characterization in this one. Feedback much appreciated! Please!! I'm on my hands and knees, begging for feedback!!!

------

"Lyla, status on current anomalies," Miguel ordered. He leaned over the yellow panels in front of him, watching the same scene of him and his child playing over and over again. His grip on the console tightened.

She blipped into view. "Currently, there are 918,503,201 anomalies to be returned to their home universes. That's 40% less than yesterday! Spider-Byte does have an update for you regarding-"

"I'll convene with her later. I'm busy."

"Busy brooding over your twelfth cup of coffee. Not enough sugar this time around?" Lyla teased, only to be met with a glare. "Alright, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. But seriously, it can't wait. A canon event was disrupted and now there's a spider-person without a universe to return to."

Miguel turned around dangerously fast. "What did you just say?"

"Talk to Margo -- she'll fill you in." Lyla blipped away.

------

"There you are," Margo mumbled to herself as Miguel approached. "This one's in rough shape, got dropped in Earth 616 and put up a fierce fight before Jessica took them to HQ. I tried to send them through the Go Home Machine, but it just dropped them back here."

"And you're sure it's not a hardware issue?"

"It's 2099," Margo drolled and rolled her eyes. "There's no hardware issues anymore, grandpa."

"Then try sending them home again. I don't see why this requires my supervision."

"This machine tears people's atoms apart and throws them back together in other dimensions," she explained. "If I run the same person through the machine too many times, they could die."

Miguel sighed heavily and began pacing around. "Well, what am I supposed to do? Keep them here forever?"

Margo looked at him like he was crazy and slowly nodded. "You can't leave them here to die."

"They're an anomaly anywhere they go, Spider-Byte. Maybe death would be a mercy."

"To you," Peter B. called from behind him.

"Maldito sea, carajo" Miguel cursed under his breath, turning around. "I thought you were taking the week off."

"Well, I was going to, but Mayday was begging me for another one of these cafeteria burgers," he said with his mouth full of food. "They're really good, you should seriously try them sometime."

Miguel's eyes darted to Mayday and quickly darted away. "I have work to return to in my office, so if you'll excuse me-"

Peter stepped in his way. "I'm sorry, Miguel, but I can't let you walk away from this problem. It's gone too far."

"I'm sorry, what?" Miguel questioned, laughing bitterly.

"Ok, I'm not great with words, especially not in front of big, strong, angry men, so MJ had me prewrite this, let me just get it- oh, Mayday has it. Mayday, hold the paper up for daddy, thanks, sweetheart."

Peter cleared his throat and began to over-annunciate his speech. "Everyone in this building joined your society because they believed in your ability to lead, shape, and change the world. We trusted you to use humane practices behind your actions and to keep the safety and rights of humanity at mind before all else. However, given the fact- Ok, this is bullshit - sorry, Mayday, don't tell mommy. Point is, Miguel, that you claim that you're all about saving the multiverse and saving humanity, but then you throw half of your sanity away to hunt down a 15 year old kid who just wants to save his dad. You're so obsessed with the concept of saving humanity that you forgot what it's like to care about individual humans. You forgot how to be a human."

"I never forgot what it felt like to care. To love."

"It's okay to admit that the new kid reminds you of your daughter, you know."

For a moment, Miguel and Peter B. just stood across from each other in silence, unable to break eye contact. Miguel's expression was intense, but otherwise unreadable. Then: "Go home, Parker. More and more of you prove that you're untrustworthy when it comes to prioritizing the greater good. I'm not afraid to get rid of you, too."

Peter's arms gripped on tighter to Mayday. He seemed to want to say something, but found it in him to walk away. Once he went through his portal back home, Miguel called for Lyla.

"Hold the chatter, Lyla," he said before she could open her mouth, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Silence any notifications except for the urgent ones. And I mean urgent."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," she remarked sarcastically, but complied.

------

Everything in Miguel's office repeated like a broken record. The video of his daughter. Peter's comment that he "forgot what it's like to care about humans, forgot how to be human." Gwen's "we're supposed to be the good guys." The feeling of his own child glitching out of existence in his palms, the very reason he got into this work. The ticking of the clock. The ticking of that motherfucking clock.

He zipped a web to the clock and smashed it into the ground, falling to a knee amidst the broken glass.

"I understand that you're having a very emo moment right now, Mr. O'Hara," Pavitr began, "But Jessica told me to drop this off." He placed the file on the floor and nudged it over with his foot as far as he could without getting too close. "I'm heading home now, have a great day!"

"Wait."

"Oh, I was afraid you would say that."

"Tell Jessica to report to my office."

"She said to tell you that she's not available until noon tomorrow."

"Of course," he chuckled angrily. "One person's off for the week, another needs 3 weeks of recovery. Now one of my only trustworthy members can't report for duty until tomorrow. But who's checking in on me, huh? That's right - no one. I took on this leadership role because I know firsthand what it feels like to have the only joy in your life, your only reason for living, taken away from you because of your own reckless mistakes. And despite all of that, I made it my life's mission to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else. But now I'm the villain?! "'We're supposed to be the good guys!'" "'You can't leave them to die!'" "'They remind you of your daughter.'" But does anyone else here know the pain of losing a child you weren't even destined to have?"

Pavitr blinked heavily. "With all due respect, sir, I'm 17."

Miguel barely seemed to hear him. He sank to the floor, running his hands through his hair and not bothering to clear the glass shards around him. "Maybe they're all right. Maybe I'm the one hurting everyone else. Maybe I'll make the same mistake I did before, and take another innocent life because I want to feel fulfilled, just for a moment."

"Should I get someone?"

Miguel sighed. "Just go."

------

“Morning, sunshine,” Jessica called, taking a seat in Miguel’s office. “You had a chance to go through the file?”

Miguel hummed in agreement. “Need a second opinion.”

Jessica flipped through her copy of your file. “Teenager, been Spiderman for 2 years, originally from Earth 45, but got dropped in Ben’s world. A slippery one for sure; took nearly two hours to get them on the ground. Tried talking to them, but they wouldn't speak. I know my stance on this, but what’s yours?”

Miguel paced around the room. “We can’t keep them here. They’re an anomaly regardless of where they go. Margo said that it would be too inhumane to send them through the Go Home Machine again, so… I think we should let them go quietly.”

“Are you serious?”

“When am I not serious?” He took a seat across from Jessica. “I’ve been hearing it from everyone else. I need to hear it from someone who was there from the beginning. Someone who I trust. Am I falling off the edge? Have I gone too far?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re just now questioning that? Look, as your friend, I’ll say this: you’re taking too much weight onto your shoulders. You need to stop being Spiderman for a moment and start being Miguel.” She shifted in her seat. “But, as your teammate, I want you to know that I’ll be by your side no matter what you choose.”

Miguel nodded, but he was totally spaced out. All he could think about was his daughter. How he wanted to take this one in so bad, just to feel like a father again, feel like a man again. How he feared the consequences of love. 

Jessica snapped in front of his face. “Earth to Miguel.”

He shook his head. “What?”

“Look, I can’t say that I don’t agree with your initial idea. But I look at them, and at Gwen, and at my future kid, and-” She put her hand on her stomach “-I just can’t imagine leaving them in the dust like that. I was wrong about Gwen, yes, but these kids are suffering. And I don’t know if we can keep making these hard decisions that put these people right back where they were trying to escape from and still call ourselves heroes.”

Miguel held his face in his hands. “I don’t know what’s up and down anymore, right or wrong. I was all of these kids once: Miles, Gwen, Hobie. I know what it’s like to love your family so much that you throw everything else to the wayside. But that cost me my child, and thousands of other lives. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do anything to stop it. I just want to stop the suffering. I just want it to stop.”

Jessica gave him a moment. “Let’s meet the kid. Give them a trial before we make any decisions we can’t take back.”

“Alright,” he agreed, “But if you’re wrong about this-”

“Then lunch is on me. Come on, mafioso.”

------

“Here they are,” Margo announced. “Just so you know, they’re fully aware of their situation, but not very talkative.”

“Let me talk to them,” Miguel insisted. “I want to hear what they have to say.”

As Miguel and Jessica approached, you refused to meet their eyes. Instead, you drew your hood closer to your face.

Miguel took a knee by you, talking through the red barrier. “Hey, kid. My name is Miguel. Miguel O’Hara. I’m Spiderman.”

You gasped dramatically. “No way! Really? I never would have guessed!”

He took in a breath. “So you do speak. Look, we’re trying to relocate you, but we need to have your account of what happened. Why doesn’t your home exist anymore?”

You shrugged and counted off the events on your fingers. “Dalmatian-looking dude crashed through a window at my internship. He went straight for the collider room, and most of my mentors were at lunch, so I went after him. I tried to shut off the collider at the same time he stepped through it, he pushed me into a hole, that lady behind you caught me after an uncomfortably long chase, and here we are.”

“You worked at Alchemax,” Miguel mumbled, though mostly to himself.

“Yeah,” you replied, leaning back. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Did you get bitten by the radioactive spider before or after working there?”

“Did I fucking what?”

“That’s how you got your powers, right?” He asked.

“My powers? Oh, I see what’s happening here,” you laughed. “You’re all off your rockers! Let me guess, this is some alternate dimension Alchemax where everyone’s trying to biologically get the abilities that I developed through technology. Ooh ooh, or, this is an elite spider society trying to save the multiverse from itself!”

“That was really just a guess?” questioned Jessica.

“I read a lot of sci-fi,” you explained.

“Nevermind all of that,” Miguel groaned. “What’s your story, kid? What’s your motive? Because if we don’t have that information, we can’t help get you out of there.”

Your expression became grave for a moment as you considered your options and chuckled bitterly. “My story? My story is that I’m a poor kid from the slums who worked their ass off to get into a good school so that I could do better for my family. My story is that my family never loved me, my friends never cared, and I was forced to choose between what I love to do and what the world needed from me. I didn’t have the power to stop my parents from hurting me or stop people from hurting each other. So, I manufactured that power and took it into my own hands. My story is that the moment I was released from that hellhole of a world, I was locked up in a three foot wide cage and forced to talk about my feelings. I heard what you guys were talking about in that back room. All I ask is that you do it quickly. I don’t like waiting.”

“Miguel, we can take a quick debrief if you need one,” Jessica offered, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Miguel didn’t budge. He looked into your eyes and felt your pain like it was his own. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally: “Let them go, Margo.”

“What?” 

“You heard me,” he asserted. “Let them go.”

Margo released you and offered her hand to help you step down from the pedestal, which you reluctantly accepted. “Didn’t know you were one for sob stories, Mr. O’Hara,” you mocked, though your comment fell through as soon as your legs trembled from lack of use.

“I’m not,” he responded, walking up to you. “But I know an innovator when I see one. You’re hurt, yes, but you have the capacity to do so much good. I’m offering you a place on my team.”

You approached cautiously, your arms crossed. “And if I say no?”

“I’d ask you to reconsider.” He held out his hand for a shake. You accepted, and he smiled. “Welcome to HQ.”

Margo whooped in the background and gave your shoulder a squeeze.

------

“Ok, first mission briefing,” Miguel started, walking backwards.

“On the move?” you asked.

“That’s the only way to do it.” He shot a web to a nearby building and dropped from an HQ terrace. 

You followed suit. “Where exactly are we going?” you shouted over the wind.

“Earth 616. There’s a rogue Vulture stealing tech from Osborn. We’d let it happen, but the man's the only thing between a country of people and an all-out war.”

“Got it.”

“We go in, capture Vulture, and bring him back to HQ. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

 You stepped through your portal and immediately got whiplash from the pure speed of a nearby aircraft. 

Vulture swooped down from above and tore the tail off of the police helicopter. It crashed into a skyscraper and gained speed as it headed for the street below. 

Miguel spoke to you through the comms. “Trial number one, newbie. I’ll pursue Vulture; you stop that helicopter from hurting civilians.”

“On it.” You dived off of your skyscraper to gain speed and pulled yourself forward with your webs. In one smooth movement, you grabbed the two co-pilots and placed them on the closest rooftop. 

The helicopter was quickly approaching the ground, where children were playing in an enclosed playground. 

“Shit,” you murmured, propelling yourself under the machine to create a landing pad for it at a safe distance from the kids. At the rate you could fire, you wouldn’t be able to stop it on time. 

In the distance, you saw Miguel struggling to keep Vulture away from a construction site, and reached out to him over the comms. “Have him ram into that crane.”

“What?”

“Just trust me.”

Miguel redirected the Vulture, dodging last second when he attacked so that the crane would fall down. 

The crane caught the chopper where it was, and you used it as a crutch to help you redirect the chaos to the empty street. You swung around the crane five times, wrapping an immense amount of webbage around it and attaching along the side of a business building. When the helicopter threatened to fall due to the weight of it, you shot three web bombs at it to keep it in place.

When you reached the ground, you were out of breath and half-heartedly waving to the clapping children and their parents. Miguel placed his hand on your shoulder as you observed the incapacitated Vulture.

“Not bad, kid,” Miguel chuckled. “Not bad.”

------

A good six months had passed, and you had risen in the ranks of the Spider Society. You were still without a place to stay, and had been bouncing from place to place in between missions. The first month, it was Pavitr and his aunt’s place. Then, Hobie’s, then HQ, and finally, Gwen’s. Most of your free time was spent discussing tech with Margo or trailing behind Miguel. 

A building-wide alert had gone off, sending every spider-being into high alert as they searched for the threat.

“What’s the sitch?” you asked Miguel as the two of you bounded down the hall. “A futuristic Rhino that’s suspected to work for The Spot just invaded HQ. He’s trying to destroy our tech and pick us off.”

Just as Miguel had finished his explanation, Rhino crashed through a door four floors below. You both zipped towards him, barely avoiding running into Peter B. as he took a picture of himself, Mayday, and Rhino. Miguel attacked Rhino head-on, performing a spin-kick to the face before webbing his arms together and latching onto his back. Rhino broke his constraints effortlessly, and threw Miguel out of a nearby window. You helped Noir get to his feet and went after Rhino.

By the time you got there, Rhino had Miguel pinned to the cracked concrete. His web shooters were broken, and he was using all of his remaining strength to stop Rhino from snapping his neck. When he saw you approaching, he tried to silently signal for you to go, but you didn’t listen.

“Hey, Alexei!” you shouted. “I never really took you for the dominant type! It doesn’t suit you.”

You swung a piece of concrete at his back and zipped to deliver a punch to the face. Rhino was quick to return the favor, and charged you through a nearby wall. 

Miguel attempted to stand up as backup arrived. He climbed onto Rhino’s back and sunk his teeth into his neck, effectively, though temporarily, paralyzing him. A team of 15 spiderbeings worked to get Rhino back to HQ while you and Jessica helped Miguel to his feet.

“What the hell were you thinking, kid? You could have died,” Miguel snapped.

“You were the one near death,” you argued. “If I didn’t come when I did, you could’ve died. Was I just supposed to let that happen?!”

“Yes!”

“No!” You dropped his arm from around your shoulder and Peter B. went to pick up the slack. “Why is it so hard for you to understand that people care about you? You gave me a chance when no one else would. I lost my world, my home, and my friends. I couldn’t lose you, too.”

“That’s not for you to decide. I can’t trust you like an adult if you refuse to act like one,” he grunted, before wavering in his stance. Jessica helped right him. 

You took a step back and pressed your lips together. “You know, I joined this team because I wanted to save people. I have the ability to save them. And… if you can’t acknowledge that ability, then… maybe you need to reevaluate your interests.” With that, you took off.

Jessica and Peter sat Miguel down to rest. 

“How bad did I fuck up?” Miguel inquired.

“Give them a few minutes to sit on it,” Peter suggested. “Kids are like that. They need time to cool off. Just make sure you talk to them later.”

------

You sat on the slanted glass roof of HQ to listen to music and blow off some steam. Heavy footprints sounded from behind you. You sighed. “If you’re here to argue, can you at least wait until the end of this song?”

“I’m not going to argue with you. I wanted to talk. And… apologize.”

That piqued your interest, but you tried to sound nonchalant as you gestured to the space next to you. “Go ahead, then. Sit.” You turned the music off.

He obliged. “I’m sorry for saying that I couldn’t trust you and that you needed to act like an adult. It wasn’t fair. I do trust you, and there’s no reason for you to act like an adult when you’re still a kid. I’ll be more conscious of my words in the future.”

You nodded. “Thanks.”

You sat in silence for a while, and you began to get up.

“Wait,” he asked. “Please.”

“What did you really come here to say?”

“Just sit, and I’ll tell you.” He waited for you to return to your spot and took a deep breath. “When I was first messing with the multiverse after working at Alchemax, I wasn’t as careful as I am now. I found a world where I was dead, but had a daughter, so I replaced myself and began raising her. I loved her more than anything. But, I was an anomaly, and had disrupted canon events. I felt her glitch right out of my hands. Thousands of innocent people died that day because of me. So, I made a vow to myself: never again. I wouldn’t let this happen to anyone else, and I wouldn’t let anyone get close to me.”

He paused, gulped, and forced himself to make eye contact with you. “Then I met you. And I tried to hate you, I really did. But you’re funny, and you’re smart and passionate, and you have a damn good heart. And everything in me just wants to protect you. I’m so mad at myself for hurting you and-”

You cut him off with a bear hug, to which he slowly responded once he understood what was happening. You shed a few tears into the crook of his neck and mumbled, “I’m sorry, too.”

He laughed, partially in disbelief. “For what?”

“I called you a dick behind your back for the first three months because I thought you had a stick up your ass.” You backed away snickering and wiped your eyes. “But you’re more my family than my parents ever were.”

Now or never, Miguel.

“About that,” he began. “I know you’ve been staying at Gwen’s place - and you’re completely free to stay there if you want - I just thought it might be nice for you to have a permanent place to stay, a school to go to, a familiar face, you know?”

“Not really,” you expressed. “What do you mean?”

“I- it’s better if I just show you.” Miguel took a folder out of his bag and handed it to you. He looked the other way as you processed what he gave you.

“Are these adoption papers?”

“Um… yeah,” he relented, still refusing to look your way. 

“And this isn’t a joke?”

“Of course not. But, it’s also up to you. I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do-”

“Yes,” you cut him off and wrapped him in an even tighter hug. “Absolutely yes.”

------

Miguel helped you carry your few boxes of belongings that you had left at Gwen’s into his modern duplex. 

“Jesus, dude,” you commented. “You didn’t tell me you were rich.”

He laughed. “This is what being a scientist earns you.”

“Damn.” You took the space in. The windows in the living room were from floor to ceiling, the couch a cool grey with ornate yellow and green pillows. Everything was open concept, and both the Mexican and Irish flag hung on either side of the TV. Aside from the occasional painting, the apartment was largely monochromatic. 

“The kitchen is under that loft area, which I usually use as office space, but you’re free to use it, too. Bathrooms on first and second floors,” he explained while walking up the stairs. He stopped in front of the third door to the right. “This is your room.”

You gently pushed open the door. Miguel had prepared for your arrival intensely. A twin bed sat in the back left corner of the room, a desk in the back right. There was a wide panel of windows with shades and a nightstand with knick knacks. A mirror, bookshelf, decorative rug, and bean bag filled the empty space. A poster with a Spiderman symbol hung over your desk, and a smile fought its way onto your face. 

“There’s a closet, too,” Miguel said proudly.

You opened the closet to find it fully stocked with casual, formal, and tactical clothing. “You did all of this for me?”

He smiled warmly. “Welcome home.”

------

It was the following year on Father’s Day, and you were waiting for Miguel to come home when you heard keys turning at the door. 

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen island. “I made dinner for us. And we can watch that crappy comedy show that you like.”

He hung up his jacket and gave you a hug. “Thanks, sweetheart. How was it with your friends?”

“Pretty good. But it took an hour to get Miles out of that Famous Footwear. I swear that boy has enough sneakers to cover the Mediterranean. How was work?”

Miguel grabbed a plate and took a seat next to you. “Well, we finally figured out the malfunction in the control room. Hobie had been messing around with it for his own projects. Shocker, right? But other than that it was just a bunch of boring meetings.”

“Oh, I just remembered something.” You rushed upstairs to get a gift bag from your room and returned, out of breath. “I made this for you. It’s not much, but my job doesn’t start until July and I wanted to give you something, so…”

He removed the tissue paper to find a carefully knitted shawl with his suit designs on it. He remained speechless for a moment. 

“What do you think?”

“I love it.”

“Really? Cuz I could get you something else if you’d prefer-”

“I love it,” he repeated, giving you a bear hug. “I’ll wear it all the time when the weather takes a turn.”

“I thought it might be useful for winter patrols,” you admitted. 

“It will be. I know you don’t like getting too sappy, so let’s watch some TV, yeah?”

Halfway through an episode of the comedy show, you got up to use the bathroom. Miguel paused the show and admired your work on his shawl. When you came back, he was still staring at it as if he were examining each individual stitch. 

“I’m back,” you said when he didn’t acknowledge you. 

He hummed in response. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

You furrowed your brows, worried now. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not all, it’s just…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to let you know that I would understand if you want to look into seeing if there’s any way to find your real parents. I love you and I want you here, don’t get me wrong, but if this is something you feel strongly about, I wanted to make sure you knew that my feelings wouldn’t be hurt.”

You stared at him for a while before bursting into laughter. 

“What’s so funny?”

You grabbed his hands and looked him in his eyes. “I found my real dad the moment you brought me here. I’m home.”

He squeezed your hands and repeated your words as if convincing himself of the truth. “You’re home.”

------

[ewingstan]

Figuring out what dnd class each undersider is can be fun enough. But we can get sillier with it. I propose that we instead start arguing about which playbook each undersider would be as characters in a game of Most Trusted Advisors by @thehorizonmachine.

The game is about rollplaying a group of rich assholes on a monarch's privy council: enacting overly complicated schemes, trying to appease your liege's insane whims, and attempting to avoid getting killed by the inquisition. Characters get a list of privileges they can do for free as well as actions that give them points (ducats) determined by what tropes their playbook is riffing off of—for instance, the treacherous Blackguard can always "emerge from the shadows" or "sharpen their knife meaningfully", and gets a ducat whenever they make an overcomplicated plan or wear a terrible disguise. Its terrific fun, and my go-to game for oneshots. Y'all should play it. Lets imagine if we forced these fuckers into it.

Brian

While the "no fun allowed" aspect of his later characterization tends towards the Hierophant, I'd say given how he's both the most practical and most mercenary undersider, The Treasurer is the best choice.

The Treasurer's whole thing is combining a get-rich-quick schemer with the long-suffering voice-of-reason archetype, and that fits Brian "trying to be a responsible older brother in a financially stable position by punching twelve year olds" Laborn perfectly. The Treasurer "can always freely roll his eyes at tomfoolery" (Brian trying-to-hard-to-be-a-parent Laborn), gets a ducat when he "runs into someone who drives [him] insane and tells the table why" (Brian introduces-shadowstalker-as-a-problem Laborn) and gets a ducat when he "personally suffers as the result of another players scheming" (Brian suffered-more-than-Christ Laborn). Give him points in Skulk and Shadow and some titles that help with combat to complement his powers and background, and you have Duke Brien the Gruesome of House Laborn, Royal Treasurer, Knight Marischal, Seneschal to the Royal Household, and Adeptus Major of the Hermetic Order.

Aisha

While the Blackguard's whole assassin-in-the-shadows thing is a pretty good match for Imp's powers, I feel like I'd be doing her a disservice giving her anyone but The Alchemist. Its the playbook that's all about being a weirdo court wizard who may or may not have actual magic, but who will definitely try to convince you that speaking to them before 10 AM risks unleashing one of the daemon's they've binded to help serve the kingdom.

The Alchemist is archetypically most similar to a Tinker (Leet is definetly in the Hermetic Order), but the playbook's abilities to cause small unexplained mischiefs and make people question themselves certainly lends itself well to a Stranger. Their privilege to "spout obscure technical jargon" fits with her determination to get good at literary reference-based one-liners, and their ability to declare people cursed fits well with her crusade to scare off/torture to the point of suicide any enemies or would-be despots. The playbook's tendency towards unexplained occult behavior seems in line with Aisha making dolls of Alec to keep around all the time. Also being incentivized to "egregiously violate a moral, religious, or cultural taboo" is just part of being a youngest child. I'm open to other choices, but Madame A'Ishah the Improbable of House Vasil, Royal Alchemist, Queen's Chemist, Archsorcerer, and Master of the Castle Ravens feels like a winner to me.

Alec

The Blackguard looks like it would fit with its focus on snide comments and bad lies, and The Alchemist would potentially justify his powers while satifying Alec's whole "rude bitch who only half knows/cares how to fit into polite society" thing. But I'm gonna take the wildcard option and fit him in as The Lover.

The romantic "let them eat cake" figure might not seem a great match for Mr. Vasil (ooh weird feel no not calling him that again), yet nevertheless there's a lot of fun tragic irony to be wrung out of it. Have the former Heartbroken who dies before his odd little situationship with Aisha can become anything be the loverboy, it'll be barrels of fun.

The playbook starts with a high Appease score, which you'd have to have coming out of the Vasil household. They're incentivized to "share a moment of physical or emotional intimacy with someone," and while Alec probably wouldn't seek out such a moment, God does he need to have some intimacy he isn't forcing someone to give him. They have an option to take a title that lets them release angry swans whenever they want to, I know that's not really related to anything Alec can do in canon but c'mon he'd love that. They get a ducat whenever they "say something insensitive without meaning it to be" which is pretty much his and Taylor's whole relationship. The playbook's theming fits the "I'm disconnected from all this and not taking it as seriously as you think I should" thing that he's trying to project with his costume, and as a result the aesthetics are a natural match. Honestly you probably wouldn't need to change him from how he dresses in canon. Maybe put him in one of those fancy Victorian nightgowns iota draws him in. Convergent evolution.

Also I think the "You can always coquettishly bat your eyelashes at someone" privilege just fits. Dollboys can have coquettishly long eyelashes to bat at people. Prince-Consort Alexander the Hijink-Prone of House Vasil, Royal Lover, Court Jester, Keeper of the Swans, and Junior Karian Dynast is ready to take a depression nap lounge luxuriously while his fellow councilors make their plans.

Rachel

A natural fit for The Marshal, the overly aggressive general. While the playbook is meant more for a proud and hawkish thumb of a person (think TF2's Soldier) than a traumatized and paranoid homeless girl, there's more than enough overlap to make the match. I could just list off the actions that give the Marshall a ducat:

"Run into someone you wounded in a duel, and tell the table why": has taken a chunk of nearly every hero in the bay

"Walk directly into danger, knowingly and fearlessly": walking into Khepri's field of influence because she trusts her too much

"Kill or maim one of your enemies in a fair fight" see point one

"Overcomplicate a simple plan by going in all guns blazing": does not like plans more complicated than "point your dogs at the problem"

"Overreact massively to a perceived slight on your honour": literally the first thing she does on-page

Overall, I feel pretty confident in my pick for Marchioness Raquel the Bitchin' of House Lindt, Royal Marshal, Knight of the Order, Commander of the Hussars, and Member of the Equestrian Order.

Lisa

A bit trickier to narrow down. I could see an argument for how she's fits in as an Alchemist; the ability to spend a ducat to have a vision fits with her powers, and she certainly lives her life as if she gets a ducat whenever she "egregiously violates a moral religious, or cultural taboo." And by Ward she might have been long-suffering long enough to be a Treasurer, which would fit in with her tendency to manage everything.

But ultimately it comes down to the tropes she's playing off of, and she seems much more like a reconstruction of the duplicitous-second-to-the-big-bad archetype that The Blackguard is based on than anything else. She's certainly making frequent use of that playbook's "disparage someone's intelligence" and "announce 'I have a cunning plan!' " privileges. The Blackguard's ability to spend a ducat to learn a secret is probably the closest we could get to her powers (coupled with some more titles that let the players learn shit they shouldn't know), and its abilities related to thin disguises works well with Lisa's whole "subsumed by the mask, nothing behind it she's just a collection of masks" thing. Give her more points in Survey and Disdain and Baroness Elisabethe the Tale-Teller of House Wilbourn, Royal Blackguard, Postmaster General, Lord Spymaster, and certainly not Silent Watcher of the Skychamber is ready for a day at court.

Taylor

On the one hand, her tendency to be much more judgy than the other undersiders suggests The Hierophant. And maybe that would work if I was specifically making Weaver. But for the Warlord of the Boardwalks I actually think I'm going to assign her The Liege: the GM-equivalent who plays the monarch the rest of the players are advising/serving the whims of. They're the one whose "the lynchpin of the story, the instigator and motivating factor for everything that happens," and if there's one thing about Taylor its that she's very good at making herself a lynchpin. Also the book advises the GM/Liege to "cause new problems and to complicate simple situations," and that seems like a pretty good way to describe Taylor's tenure as an Undersider. Admittedly, she might not fit the suggestion that "your Liege should be the least qualified person for the job in the realm, perhaps the world," but nonetheless. Have her play either as a Have-at-Them or a Powder-Keg and you're ready to give the Royal Council the headache of their lives. "Queen Taylor what do you mean you want us to accompany you in dueling Lord Slash and his brigands, we have armies for this." "Queen Taylor why do we have to break you out of the Holy Protectorate, what do you mean you killed the Pope." "Queen Taylor the second coming has arri—what do you mean you want to declare war on the resurrected Christ."

[hungry-tum-stuff]

"Every time I'm about to start drifting off, your belly rumbles and wakes me right back up."

absolutely adore your writing btw! you're an excellent writer and your characterization and dialogue are fantastic. thank you for sharing your work with us!

Thank you so much!!! It means the world when folks compliment my writing, it’s people like you who give me the motivation to post in the first place <3

CW: Hunger, that’s all

“Buck…”

“Mhm?” Buck stirred, yawning as he lifted his head to look at Dante, who was resting his head against his chest and staring back up at Buck with his brows furrowed.

“Are you hungry?” Dante asked, folding his arms under his chin as Buck blinked tiredly.

“Why-“ He began, but was cut off by his stomach growling. Buck’s face flushed, the embarrassment waking him up fully as Dante chuckled and poked his shirtless belly.

“Because every time I start to drift off, your belly rumbles and wakes me right back up.” Dante says as he begins to rub Buck’s empty tummy, which was still gurgling unhappily. “I don’t know how the hell you can sleep with it making all that noise, it’s been keeping me up all night…”

“Shoot, I’m sorry honey…” Buck frowned, leaning down to plant a kiss on Dante’s head. “I ate a heck of a lot at dinner tonight, I didn’t think I’d still be this hungry.”

“Well you ate dinner at 4, babe.” Dante reminded, smoothing his hand over Buck’s potbelly. Even while empty it still had a pleasant softness to it, and a roundness that began just under his pecs and sloped off by his hips, resulting in some very nice love handles. When Buck was full his belly was much rounder and firmer, but right now Dante could tell how hungry he was just by all the empty space he could feel beneath his fingers. And by how much noise it was making. “And now it’s the middle of the night. You gotta be starving.”

Buck’s stomach groaned, confirming Dante’s conclusion. He gave it some firmer rubs as Buck chuckled abashedly. “You ain’t wrong… I could go for a midnight snack.” He said expectantly, already thinking about everything they had in their fridge. Leftovers, lunch meat… His stomach churned and cramped, more than ready for Buck to get up and give into his appetite.

“But I am awful comfy… I’m likin’ this belly rub.”

Dante rolled his eyes. “You can’t be serious… Don’t you think some food in your belly would feel better?”

“Not as good as you sittin’ right here with me~” Buck flirted, which caused his partner to get up with a huff. Buck frowned and sat up, putting a hand on his aching belly now that the soothing rubs had ceased.

“Where you goin?” Buck called after Dante, who had left the room.

“To make you some damn food!” Dante called back. Buck rubbed his eyes and hoisted himself out of bed as the kitchen light flicked on to reveal his partner scrambling around the kitchen, gathering pots, pans and ingredients. “I know you’re feeling all well-rested and lovey-dovey but I still ain’t gotten any sleep.”

Buck shuffled behind Dante and wrapped his arms around him, leaning over to rest his chin atop his head. His stomach rumbled against Dante’s back.

“Sorry for makin’ you grouchy…”

“Yeah yeah-“ Dante glanced up at Buck, smiling slightly. “Just try not to let your tummy do all the talking for you, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I mean it. I don’t get why you always wait until you’re starving to eat.” Dante scolded, tossing some chicken in his pan, the sizzle and smell of it cooking nearly causing Buck’s tummy to riot. “You know I don’t mind cooking a second dinner, or picking up some dessert.”

Buck smiled slightly. “You don’t gotta be doin’ all that for me.”

“If it means I can get some sleep, I’ll do anything you want.” Dante insisted, glancing back at Buck playfully. Buck just laughed and leaned over to kiss Dante’s cheek.

“Now who’s flirting?”

“I’m making you food, I’m doing more than flirting Buck.” Dante kissed him back. “Now, do you want garlic or pesto sauce?”

[seasonalflowerr]

SLAMS DOOR OPEN

Can i get uhh....can I get a numberrr.... 29

29. Would That I by Hozier

“So in awe, there I stood as you licked off the grain. Though I've handled the wood, I still worship the flame. Long as amber of ember glows, All the "would that I'd loved" is long ago.” hello. so. this is the song you got- i need you to know i LAUGHED when i realized. anyway. hi buddy!! i wrote!! rentho for you!! i don't know if i nailed the characterization but i still hope you like it <3 two special guys i know we haven't talked about in a bit. it's very plot-less and fluffy and like- idk when i hear this song i just think about two people goofing off and dancing in a forest. :) enjoy my beloved friend<33

“Etho, my man, you really don’t know how to dance, do you?”

“I can! It’s just been- been a while, y’know?” 

Right in his field of vision, eyes cast down, he can see Ren’s shoulders shake with a hefty laugh. He gives Etho’s hand a light squeeze, leaning down to try and meet his gaze. 

“Right, of course,” Ren says, “And you being stiff as a board wouldn’t mean that you’re nervous, would it?”

“Nope.”

Etho’s shoulders slump down. He tries to relax, but it’s futile, so he just makes it look like he relaxed his frame instead. Maybe he was nervous. But Ren didn’t need to know that. 

Ren chuckles again. “You’re a terrible liar and a terrible dancer,” he teases. 

Etho can’t help it. He smirks, sure that Ren can see how his flushed cheeks peek over his mask. 

“Uh, so are you. You keep stepping on my feet.”

“Because you aren’t moving.”

“If you say soooo…” 

“Well, we’ll just have to learn together then,” Ren coos, voice dropping lower, “Won’t we?”

His free hand scoops Etho’s waist and pulls him further in. Etho feels his heart trot off, wide eyes now locking with Ren’s. Taking a breath to regain his almost cracked composure, Etho sighs dramatically. 

“I guess you’d be the best one to show me how.”

“Aye.”

There is little resistance when Ren tries to move them this time. He keeps Etho close, warm breath ghosting across his face and toothy grin just inches from his own mouth. Most times, it is good that Etho has his mask. Keeps him from making impulsive decisions while the two of them are trying to focus.

A soft, late afternoon sun peeks through the trees above them. The ground crunches lightly as the two step—Etho falling behind at first, but soon, the two falling into a sort of clumsy sync. It’s a weird mix between a two-step and a waltz, indistinguishable if not for how Ren occasionally steps backwards and Etho has to follow. 

Frankly, he is useless in this dance. He is helpless and close to the man that he loves and that makes it hard to keep his brain from puddling. Ren is a strong tether, guiding him around and around in a patch of bright green grass. The light is dappling on his skin, in his hair. Stunning, as usual.

“See, I knew you could do it,” Ren says, “And I’m not stepping on your feet anymore.”

“Mm, maybe. It could still happen.” 

“I could do it on purpose if you really want me to-”

“Noo!” Etho cries, pulling back slightly. 

He only manages to get about an inch away before Ren pulls him back in, laughing and whirling them around again.

“You’re so easy, baby.” 

He scrunches his nose, using one of the hands on Ren’s shoulder to pinch the side of his neck. “You’re on thin ice, ya know.” 

“Am I really?” 

“Yeah,” Etho says, trying to be serious.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Ren teases further, “I don’t think you can go anywhere.” 

Etho rolls his eyes and yanks his mask down. He pulls Ren in, pressing his lips to his rather hard for what was supposed to be a sweet kiss—but there’s little hesitance from Ren, seemingly unsurprised by this response. Ren grins, all teeth and giggles, into the kiss for a moment before squeezing at his waist. 

When Etho pulls away, he immediately puts his mask back on. Ren whines, eyes still closed. 

“That’s all?” Ren mutters. 

“It’s what you get.”

When Ren goes in to kiss him again, Etho pulls back, whirling them into a clumsy spin. 

“Whoops,” he says once they re-establish, “I thought we were dancing.” 

A mischievous tone makes itself known in Ren’s voice, lilting with joy. “Oh, you-”

Etho steps back, suddenly taking the lead and dragging Ren with him. Their proximity doesn’t make it too difficult, not when he already had him a little distracted. Ren stumbles a bit, glancing down at his feet as if they were not going to catch up. Etho takes them into a gentle sway back and forth, eyebrows wiggling a little. 

“What?” he asks, feigning innocence. 

“You’re a cheeky little thing.”

“Who, me?”

With a little chuckle, Etho finds himself hauled to the side, the lead stolen once more and tossed into a clumsy duet. He can barely think for more than a few seconds before he feels Ren close in, backing him into a tree that he hadn’t seen. It doesn’t hurt—instead, he gasps almost tenderly as Ren’s body presses into him. His hands grip his jacket, one foot tucked between Etho’s feet as a final measure to leave him right where he wants him. Ren’s canines peek out as he half-grins, victorious in their silly little game. 

“Yes, you,” he says. 

He can feel how warm his face gets under his mask, hot breath blowing back against him as he laughs a little nervously. He can’t help it when he tugs his mask down, letting the heat escape as his cheeks barely cool. 

What he notices, then, is how Ren breaks into an indulgent stare. Big blue eyes cast over his features and drink him in slowly, so full of feeling that Etho can tell it is not only tasting but savoring. 

“What’re you doin’ there, Ren?”

“Enjoying the view.”

With a snort, Etho grabs the back of Ren’s neck and pulls him in, bonking their foreheads together lightly. 

“Sap."

“Geez, you’re too good to me, baby,” Ren fires back, sarcasm lacing his tone. 

So, Etho kisses the attitude right out of him. Again, and again.

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Surprise! I had quite a bit of extra free time at work these past few days (thank you delays) so here is the finished Halloween Sam oneshot I decided to write on a whim 😅 I do really like how it turned out so hopefully you all enjoy!

Thank you to the anon who inspired the first part of this story, friends to lovers Sam is way too good to pass up

Pairing: Sam Kiszka X fem!reader

Warnings and tags: 18+ only!! Not for minors! Halloween party, friends to lovers, drinking, blood, animal attack, hospitalization, crying, wee bit of angst, smut including: oral (fem rec), unprotected sex, tiny bit of breeding kink if you squint real hard, multiple orgasms, I think this is the most Sam characterization I’ve ever written, I probably missed something so let me know if I need to add

Word count: 14k

“Don’t you think you’re going to get cold in that?” Sam asked as he picked you up from your parents house before the party. “It’s a bonfire, which means outside, and there’s a low of like 33 degrees tonight”.

“Yeah, bonfire” you easily countered with the same sassy undertone as you stepped outside and locked the front door behind you. “That means warmth. Besides, you act like we weren’t both raised in Michigan”.

“Well I’m not lending you my jacket if you get cold” he forewarned, though you knew Sam would give you the shirt off his back if you’d only asked.

“I know, I’d only expect a gentleman to offer something like that”.

“Hey!” He shot back with a flustered rush to the passenger's side door of his car so he could open it for you and prove that he indeed was a gentleman, of sorts at least.

The sun was setting fast behind the tree line as you drove further from town and deeper into the wooded area surrounding the place you had always called home. It was silent between you and Sam, just some soft jazz music you could hardly make out over the sound of the tires rolling against the asphalt in the background.

The quiet didn’t bother you though. You and Sam had been friends for so long that something as simple as the presence of the other was calming, and little filler talk wasn’t necessary to maintain comfort. Anxiety did bubble in the pit of your stomach though, and you fiddled with the lace trim of your skirt to keep your hands occupied as you stared out the window at the quickly passing landscape.

Halloween was always one of your favorite holidays. Not for the candy, or the gimmicky decorations, or horror fest movie nights, but because for years now you and your friends had attended parties dressed up in group costumes. Coordinating your outfits usually always started the day after for the following year, residual excitement from the night before still fueling ideas for what to do next. This year was different. Jake, Josh, and Danny all had significant others who wanted to do couples costumes for the party tonight, which left only you and Sam to come up with something to wear.

The planning wasn’t as elaborate as the previous years, the both of you internally feeling a little less excited about dressing up without the rest of the group. Ultimately you had agreed on something simple and unlike what you had ever done before, Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf.

Of course you thought it would be funny if Sam dressed up as Little Red and you the wolf, him showing up in a skirt and a wig would definitely turn some heads. He quickly shot that down, so instead here you both were, you in your red and white checkered dress paired with the red cape and hand basket, and Sam with his painfully plain jeans, flannel, and fuzzy gray wolf ears situated in his long brown hair.

You broke the silence, turning your head to watch as he tapped his thumbs to the steering wheel like he was the one plucking the bass strings along with the song playing. “What are the others dressing up as?”

“Don’t know” he shrugged, “haven’t really talked to anyone since we made it back home. I kind of get enough of them on the road, want to see other people while I can”. His eyes flickered off the road for a brief moment to look your way, giving you a big warm hearted smile.

It was true, you and Sam had spent nearly his entire time home together, watching movies, talking about life, tour, college, even just going grocery shopping together because it was something mundane and easy, and you enjoyed the company.

Soon your question would be answered, because he flicked on his left turn signal, and waited for the only other car on the road to pass by before turning down a dirt road that led up a hill and to one of your mutual friends' cabin property.

“Ready?” Sam asked as he pulled the key from the ignition and shoved it into his front pocket.

“Yeah…” you trailed off when answering, looking out at the cabin already lit up with orange and purple string lights, the distant glow of the bonfire far in the background.

“Hey, we’re going to have fun tonight right?” Sam, without thinking about the implications of the action, rest his hand on top of your bare thigh just above the knee. “And if you want to leave early just let me know”. You nodded, pulling on a convincing smile before you both made your way along the gravel driveway to the porch.

Sam was the only one who knew about your newfound apprehension towards social situations. Before he and his brothers, and Danny, left to go on tour for their band you hadn’t much thought about how partys or big gatherings made you feel uncomfortable, because every party you went to they were there. Just like these past few days, you and Sam were inseparable growing up. He was your best friend, your partner in crime, and even your confidant the times when you needed it. You leaned on him and his outstanding personality heavily for support, not even realizing that when he was gone that meant you were going to fall flat on your face.

You tried socializing alone when you joined college. There was a party practically every weekend anyways, perfect opportunities to work on making new friends, but you learned quickly that no one caught your interest like Sam did. Eventually you gave up all together because the more you tried to replace Sam, the more you missed him.

“Looks like it’s a full moon tonight” Sam commented, lingering behind as you stepped up onto the porch to stare up at the glowing yellow orb in the sky.

“Perfect night for a party in the woods then” you giggled, reaching out for his hand to drag him inside.

After greeting the few people who were still mingling in the cabin and making some mixed drinks, you and Sam stepped back into the cool air. The sun had gone completely down by now and the wind was starting to pick up, making your skirt and cape blow as you walked towards the rest of the party hanging around the fire.

“Hey!” Danny spotted you first, easily waving you over as he stood a good head taller than everyone else around him.

You gave Danny a tight hug first, not even realizing how much you had missed him too until he had his arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders. “How have you been? I feel like we haven’t talked in forever!”

“I know, someone likes to keep you all to himself” Danny shot Sam a look to which he received an eye roll in return. “By the way, this is Caroline”.

You knew Danny had met someone recently, because Sam had told you, so you were excited to see who the lucky girl was. “Hi, how are you liking Frankenmuth?” You turned to the girl next to him, finding it so much easier to make conversation with someone new when you were surrounded by your long-time friends.

The two of you talked for a while, and Sam left with Danny to go back to the cabin and get Caroline a new drink. When they returned Jake and Josh were also in tow with their significant others. Everyone was dressed in their own pair of costumes, you and Sam included, which made you feel a bit awkward considering you were the only ones not dating.

“You look so good!” Jake’s girlfriend commented, giving you a tight hug next.

“Sam, you could have tried a little harder” Jake mentioned, reaching up to flick one of his stuffed ears, but Sam dodged him just in time, spilling his drink on his hand a little in the motion.

“I think they’re cute” his girlfriend nudged him in the side to knock it off. “Their costumes make more sense than ours do”.

“Wait let me guess!” You turned back to Danny and Caroline first, their matching black cloaks and the obvious wands sticking out of his pocket. “Ok you guys are students from Hogwarts”.

Next you took in Josh and his partner for the first time since they joined you, giving them a wave in the meantime. Their costumes were also very easy to recognize, Josh wearing an all white ensemble with a feather boa and gemstone rimmed glasses, and his partner in a white undershirt tucked into jeans with a studded black belt. “Alright, Elton John and Freddie Mercury”.

Finally you looked over Jake and his girlfriend again. He was wearing brown pants, a white button up he had characteristically nearly completely unbuttoned with a black bandanna tied around his neck, and a brown pistol holster strapped around his shoulders. His girlfriend was wearing a matching brown skirt, white button up as well with a black scarf knotted in front of her chest, and in place of her usual glasses were a more old fashioned pair with round lenses. “Umm, tomb raider?” You guessed, chuckling because you knew it had to be wrong but for some reason that was the only thing popping into your head.

“See!” She grumbled, pushing his chest a little to say I told you so.

“Tomb raider?!” Jake exasperated, “more like the rousing, suspenseful, and horrifying 1999 epic The Mummy”.

“Don’t think I’ve seen it” you deadpanned, making Jake’s jaw drop even further as he looked over at Sam in disbelief.

“Alright Mr. O’Connell give her a break; she was more sheltered as a kid than we were”. Sam asked Jake to back off, even though he did think their costumes were pretty cool.

“What have you guys been up to? We missed you at the barbecue the other day” Jake’s girlfriend questioned you and Sam next.

You placed the plastic cup containing the alcoholic beverage that was sure to make your head feel light and fuzzy in no time against your lip to hide the blush creeping up on your face. There was no reason for you to feel embarrassed about missing the little afternoon get together at the Kiszka house the other day. It wasn’t like you and Sam had done anything to be ashamed of, just randomly decided to ditch it in favor of a mini road trip to the next town over to go to that diner neither of you had been to in years.

That drive was completely different than the one this evening. The music had been cranked loud and your sides were hurting from laughing so hard as you watched Sam singalong from the driver's seat, nearly running the car off the road more than once because he ‘wasn’t used to driving himself around’. You remembered thinking about what it would be like to constantly be on the road with Sam. To see all the amazingly beautiful places he saw, picturing him pretending to be your educated tour guide as you explored new cities neither of you had ever visited before, making up stories as you went just to see you smile. That was one thing you could always count on when being around Sam, that he could make you smile.

“I wasn’t feeling well so she let me take a nap at her place” Sam lied for you, making you glance over at him in confusion. It wasn’t often you heard Sam lie, in fact you were convinced he was terrible at it because every time he did try to lie to you, you immediately called him out on it. No one seemed to question it though, so you decided to save yours for later.

A while passed as you all caught up, and you made a mental note to yourself to convince Sam to hang out some more before everyone left again. Even if you had been a little weary while getting ready to come out tonight, you were quickly realizing now that you’d had nothing to worry about, and that all though you missed Sam quite a lot you had missed everyone else too. Sam offered to get more drinks, and he had been in the cabin for a minute now so he was sure to be coming back any time soon.

“So, who’s idea was it to dress as Little Red Riding Hood?” Caroline asked you. “That’s a cute couples costume”.

Everyone else in the group shared the same look as you shifted your weight before thinking of how to answer that without making her feel out of place for not knowing the dynamic. “Oh, umm, it’s not really a couples costume”. You stared down at your now empty cup, swirling around the tiny droplets that still clung to the bottom rim.

She didn’t get the hint though. “Really? I mean I know the wolf was a bad guy but Sam seems really nice-”

“No like I mean it’s not a couples costume because we’re not a couple”. You cut her off, trying to not be too irritated about having to spell it out.

When you looked back up, Danny was staring at something behind you, so you turned to see that Sam had been there the whole time listening to everything you said. He had a downturned look to his face as he handed you the new cup and took the old one in return. Then silently he turned on his heels and marched back inside.

“Hey! Sam, wait up!” You called after him, rushing to follow him back into the cabin to see what was the matter.

He didn’t stop until he was back in the kitchen, and he not so subtly threw your empty cup into the trashcan before turning to try and push past you. Something was wrong.

“Are you alright?” You placed a hand against the front of his shoulder to stop him. “Did I say something?”

Sam huffed, leaning back against some cabinets since you wouldn’t let him go, and crossed his arms over his chest in a pout.

“Talk to me Sam” you pleaded with him. He was always like this when he was irritated, he would close himself off and avoid you like you were supposed to just magically know what was wrong, but you weren’t a mind reader, and you weren’t his girlfriend, so you didn’t have to put up with this.

“Fine, if you’re going to act like that I’m going back outside”. You went to follow through with your threat, but just as you turned around he caught your wrist and pulled you back.

“What if it was a couple costume? What if…” he chewed on a bit of skin flaking on his bottom lip as he debated really putting this out there. “What if we could be?”

“What are you talking about?” You tried to pretend like you didn’t know what he was suggesting, but he raised his brows in a way that meant he knew you were just playing clueless. “But we’re friends Sam, best friends”.

“And? Daniel and I are best friends too, but I don’t feel the same way about him as I do you”. He squeezed the hand he held onto a little tighter, trying to get you to believe him and understand. You wanted to pull away, your heartbeat was racing and you were sure he could feel it with his thumb wrapped around your pulse point.

“Everyone practically thinks you’re dating too” you huffed, shaking your head in disbelief at what was coming out of your mouth, but it was spilling out nonetheless. “I’ve half a mind to think he brought that girl along just to try and convince everyone that he’s not in love with you”.

Sam did drop your hand at that and stared down at you in disappointment for even insinuating such a thing. “You know he wouldn’t do something like that. He really likes her, and after coming home, seeing everyone again, spending so much time with you, it’s becoming clear to me how much I really like you”.

With your hand freed you took a hesitant step back, trying to give yourself some room to think. It would be a lie for you to say you had never considered the possibility of something more with Sam. How could you not? He was the most amazing person you had ever met and you were set on the fact that no one would ever come close to understanding you like he did.

The problem was you knew if you took that leap of faith there would be no coming back from that. Agreeing to date Sam would be like taking a dive off a high bridge, not knowing if the line that held you safe would be able to handle the jump, and if it snapped everything would be gone in the blink of an eye.

“I like you too Sam, a lot, but I can’t” your eyes avoided his, like you were physically incapable of watching his reaction as you tried to let him down. “Maybe at some point we could have tried, but now I don’t think it will work. Our lives have grown too different, I’m just barely starting my second year of college and all the while you’re off traveling the world playing shows to fans who adore all of you. I can’t even begin to compete with them”.

“There’s no competition” Sam argued, his tone growing louder and more desperate to the point people who had come into the kitchen not knowing what was going on were starting to clear out and give the two of you some privacy. “I don’t look at it that way. I don’t think I can. Not when the only thing I’ve been able to think about since I left was you”.

There was something you could sympathize with, because for all you knew you had him beat there. Sam was on your mind more often than you wanted, and you had tried and failed to distract yourself with other things to keep your heart from longing.

Although his confession should have made your heart feel whole, it started to crack in half at the idea of having to long for him even more. “I can’t” you repeated, no other excuse, just heartbroken denial.

“I- I understand” Sam replied defeatedly with a slump of his shoulders. He wanted to argue more, wanted to fight harder because he knew now after all the time apart that no one would ever make him feel even a fraction of the way he felt about you. The turmoil he could see behind your eyes scared him though, made him second guess every small little moment between you two that he had read into hoping that it meant you felt the same way.

The way you immediately lit up the moment he laid eyes on you upon returning home. He had been so nervous that you wouldn’t be as excited to see him again as he was you, that the many months away had made you more strangers than best friends, but it didn’t.

The way you agreed with anything he suggested, having grown accustomed to the picky little fights he and his brothers couldn’t help but get into while cooped up on a bus together for days on end. The way you let him rest his head in your lap. Your fingers automatically moving into his hair to scratch lightly against his scalp until he was falling asleep.

Maybe, it had all meant nothing.

“Everything alright?” Danny asked when you returned solo, having parted ways to rejoin the others when Sam said he needed a minute alone.

“I’ll be fine” you could feel your tongue thick in your mouth with the lie, and you took a long drink out of your cup hoping the alcohol would help numb the pain.

“Where’s Sam?” Jake asked, his intuition getting the best of him when he didn’t see the youngest had returned with you.

“He went somewhere that way” you answered with a point of your finger. Jake squinted in the dark, hoping that you were pointing to the random shed in the yard, but knowing better that you were actually referring to the thick of trees surrounding the property.

“He wandered off into the woods alone?” Jake sighed, already moving to hand his beer off so he could go hunt him down.

“I’ll go” Danny stepped forward. He and Jake exchanged some silent looks before Jake ultimately nodded in agreement.

“You know, Sam missed home the most” Jake mentioned in a lower voice so that it would just be the two of you talking. “I thought, with his spirit, he would just go and never look back. That wasn’t the case”.

“Wonder why?” You replied like you didn’t already know now that you probably played a big role in that, and took another drink.

“I know it's going to be hard for you when we have to leave again, but just know, it’s hard for all of us. Sam, he hides it from you how guarded he is because he wants you to think that he’s having the best time ever so that you won’t worry about us”. As Jake explained this to you your heart started pumping loudly in your ears again. You thought back on all the calls and FaceTimes you’d had, he was always smiling when he saw you even if you could tell that they were actually pretty busy or having a rough day. Had he really put on a face just so that you couldn’t see what was really going on behind the scenes? You wondered if that made you a true friend then, if he couldn’t even let you in on when he was feeling run down or unhappy.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before the words were formed a loud yell came from behind.

“Help!”

You'd recognize the voice anywhere, it was Danny calling for someone, and by the sound of it he was panicked. Without even turning around yet you watched as Jake’s face fell into pure terror and your heart sank.

Sam. Danny went into the woods after Sam.

Quickly you dropped your cup and took off towards the direction you had pointed them in, seeing Sam slumped over in Danny’s arms as he helped him over. He was practically dragging him when he reached the cabin, one of his arms around Sam’s waist with one of Sam’s arms around his shoulders.

“He’s breathing” Danny informed you when you got to them, placing your body up against the other side of your friend to help carry some of his weight. In doing so you felt something warm trickle onto your dress, and when you looked over you saw that the entire left side of Sam was covered in blood coming from three large gashes in his neck.

“Oh my god! What happened!” You shrieked and Sam’s brothers came running over to see what was happening as well.

“I don’t know” Danny gasped, “a bear maybe?”

“Bear?!” You repeated in shock, “fuck we need to get him to a hospital, now!”

“I’m calling for an ambulance” Jake jumped in, his phone already pressed to his ear.

In all the commotion you tried to get a response from Sam to see what had happened, see if he could even speak with the tears on his skin in such a delicate place and the blood still seeping out. “Sam! Sam stay with me please!” He was drifting in and out of consciousness, looking pale from the blood loss. You yanked at the tie on your cape and pulled it off, placing the bunched up fabric against his wound to try and stop some of the bleeding.

“You’re going to be okay Sammy, we got you. We’re all right here. Help is on the way”.

Sam’s eyes came into focus for a brief moment, searching around in the distance for the sound of the voice that has brought him back to until they zeroed in on you standing right in front of him. Despite his current situation his lip curled into a slight smile, and you felt under the quickly dampening cloak against his neck that he was trying to say something. You pulled closer, trying to make it easier for him to whisper to you, but his brows furrowed tightly and his eyes rolled shut again.

When you finally got the chance to see Sam again he was laying in a hospital bed, the IV in his hand hooked up to a drip of antibiotics to prevent any infection. There were more wires coming from his chest underneath the hospital gown and connected to a heart monitor that beeped at a slow steady pace in the otherwise hauntingly quiet room. A large bandage was affixed to nearly the entirety of his neck, you’d heard he needed stitches and that it was a miracle his jugular veins were still intact.

“Oh Sam”. Your eyes welled up with tears at the sight of him laying there unconscious. Collapsing on the chair next to him you reached under the thin hospital blanket to find his hand and wrapped it in yours. “I’m so sorry, so sorry I said what I did”.

The tears were streaming down your face now, and you turned to wipe them away on your shoulder, trying to gather yourself so you could keep talking to him, hoping he could somehow hear you.

“I do like you Sam. I think I kind of love you actually. I want to be with you”.

You waited for a response, some silly part of your brain wishing for a miracle, that your reciprocation of his feeling would be enough to wake him up and everything would be alright. But he didn’t move a muscle, and you knew he needed the rest, so you leaned over and placed your head against the edge of the bed, staring up at him until your eyes too fell heavy and you drifted into a light restless sleep.

“Hey” you heard a voice gently call you back awake and your shoulder shake. Opening your eyes you saw that you hadn’t shifted an inch in your sleep, still holding Sam’s hand in your own. Sam was still asleep too, but the color had returned to his face and the heart monitor was still sounding off in the background.

“Your parents are here to take you home” Jake informed you, watching as panic started to surface at the thought of leaving Sam here alone. “I’m going to sit with him for a while. Go take a shower and eat something. I’ll call you if anything happens”.

Even if you wanted to stay with him, you knew that you should be thankful they even let you be in here with him for this long. Jake was his brother, and the rest of his family was no doubt waiting in another room, and you were just his friend. A level of relationship you regret at this moment.

“Ok” you spoke hoarsely, pulling yourself up from the chair and feeling your body ache from the awkward position you had fallen asleep in. “You’ll call me?”

Jake nodded, waiting patiently for you to give Sam one last wistful look before leaning over, careful not to disturb his bandaging, and pressed your lips to his.

When you got home your parents had made breakfast, but you pushed most of it around on your plate, eating just enough to soak up the leftover alcohol from last night and excused yourself to shower. Blood had dried onto your costume, staining the already red fabric a darker, rusty color. It wouldn’t even be worth it to try and get it out, so you threw the piece away before climbing into the hot stream.

It felt good to clean your face, scrubbing your tear ruined makeup free, then your hair, and the rest of your body monotonously without any thought. You couldn’t think right now, because if you did you would just cry some more. When your head hit the pillow you were out again, not even having realized how exhausted you were until it was time to give up.

It wasn’t clear to you how many hours had passed when your phone started to ring. You shot out of bed, grabbing the little rectangle you somehow managed to plug in on your night stand just before passing out, and answering it without even checking to see who was calling.

“He’s awake” Jake spoke as soon as you answered. “And he’s been asking for you”.

“I’m on my way”.

Flying out of bed you pulled some jeans on, not even bothering to change from the random t-shirt plucked from our closet you had slept in. Your heart was pounding. He was physically alright, you knew that when you left the hospital early this morning, but last you truly spoke to Sam emotionally he was going through it. Did he really want to see you? Or was Jake just saying that to make you feel better?

Jake, Josh, and Danny were all crowding Sam’s room when you arrived, but they cleared out one by one and shut the door behind them to give the two of you some time alone. Sam was sitting up in his bed now, a small rolling table with half eaten food sitting next to him, and he was drinking water from a straw in a salmon colored cup.

“There you are” he smiled brightly as soon as you tentatively sat down. His voice was quieter than normal, more weak and strained, but other than that he seemed his usual self.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, unable to keep your eyes from constantly flicking down at the fresh set of bandages on his neck.

“Fine actually” he smiled again, “when I woke up the doctor had to take the stitches out because they were bothering me, but he said it was fine because I was already starting to heal. Actually he said I had the best recovery time from someone with this injury he had ever seen”.

Sam seemed proud of himself, but you worried if he was doing the thing Jake had mentioned and saying that just so you wouldn’t concern yourself too much with it.

“What about you?” Sam asked in return, “Jake said you were here all night. Did you go home and get some rest?”

“Me?” You peeped, clenching your hands into fists in your lap. “Why are you worried about me? You should be furious with me”.

“What?” Sam’s brows turned up in confusion and he set his cup down onto the table. “Why would I be mad at you?” You shared a weary look, both recounting the conversation last night that had led Sam to go into those woods alone.

“I’m sorry, it’s all my fault” your eyes prickled again, but you fought back the tears, staring up at the bright hospital lights on the ceiling to dry them back out.

“Woah, wait” Sam reached for your hands, and you stood up quickly to get closer to the side of his bed so he wouldn’t have to move too much. He reached over and tucked a piece of your bed dried hair behind your ear, smiling again. “It’s not your fault. I was being an idiot… I am an idiot”.

“No Sam, if anyone here is an idiot it’s me” you shook your head, “for trying to make you believe that I didn’t want to be with you”.

“So?” Hope started to fill his voice again, making him sound more like himself than before, “are you saying you changed your mind then?”

You chuckled softly, his unexpectedly cheerful attitude catching you off guard, but it was still a huge relief. “Don’t think my mind ever needed changing, I just needed to accept it”.

“Well, this is great news!” Sam beamed, “glad all it took was me being sent to the hospital for us to work it out”.

“Shut up” a single tear did make its way down your cheek, and he wiped it away with his thumb before you placed your hand on his and held it against your face.

“Make me” he muttered, his eyes flicking down to your lips, and you did. You leaned over and connected your mouths in a real kiss.

Kissing Sam was different than you thought it would be. You thought it would be at least a little bit awkward considering you had known him since he was just a messy little kid that occasionally ate leaves to make you laugh. This kiss felt more like your first kiss, the one you wait for your entire life, only ten times better, because it was your first kiss with Sam.

When you parted your lips, and he slipped his tongue inside, you reached forward and cupped his face in your palms. You turned his head to the side and kissed him harder, some spark having ignited in you the moment you finally accepted that you did. You did love him.

“Oww, ow careful there tiger” Sam pulled back, checking the tape on his bandages with a breathless laugh.

“Oh god, I’m sorry” you quickly apologized and took a step backward, but Sam quickly wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to sit down on the bed next to him.

“Never apologize for kissing me again, just maybe a little gentler for now”.

“Okay” you giggled, placing the softest kiss to his cheek to which he rolled his eyes and leaned in again.

It had been nearly a week since you and Sam made it official, and you had taken every minute of every day to try and make yourself believe that this was all real, that he was your bonafide boyfriend now.

In regards to the heated first kiss, you had decided to take things slow…

Slow worked, because the moment Sam was discharged from the hospital you had dedicated yourself to taking care of him. That was the least you could do considering part of you still felt guilty about Sam getting hurt that night in the first place.

That didn’t mean that the two of you didn’t get carried away from time to time though. Like now, you were in Sam’s bedroom, tops on the floor, and you were sitting in his lap as you attacked his lips with your own.

“You’re so fucking hot” Sam groaned as his hands fondled your chest over your simple little bra, leaning over to kiss the tops of your breasts that spilled over the cups.

“You are too” you smiled, running your fingertips over his chest. “Like really hot actually. Are you okay?” You moved your hand to his forehead, testing if he had a fever.

“I’m fine” he laughed, grabbing your hand and putting it back on his chest. “Better than ever actually”.

“Yeah?” You smiled again, pushing your concern aside in place for something more intimate. Sam’s hand remained over yours on his chest but you looked down at them, then lower, to the obvious bulge in his pants. Sam followed your line of sight before the both of you made eye contact again. He wrapped his fingers around yours and slid your hand down his stomach, holding your eyes in his as they came to rest over his groin.

“Baby” he rasped as you eagerly palmed him over the material “I-”.

“I know” you whispered, moving to unbutton his pants so you could get your hand closer to him. He was so hot and hard, it was turning you on to the point you felt like you were going to throw all inhibitions out the window. Fuck going slow, fuck being easy, you wanted him.

Your lips crashed back together, and you could feel the heat from his body seeping into your own, supercharging your nerves until your extremities buzzed with excitement.

“Sammy!” Josh’s voice came with a light knock on the other side of the door.

“Mmm, what!” Sam exasperated, annoyed that he was getting interrupted with your hand literally in his pants right now.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just here to tell you dinner is ready”.

“Fuck din-”

You cut him off with your hand clamped around his mouth and a giggle. “Shhhh, come on they’re waiting on us”. With a disagreeable sigh Sam let you crawl out of his lap and you both redressed to head downstairs.

“Sammy” you whispered when you were finally back up in his bedroom, tucked against his side as he started to drift off to sleep.

“Hmm?” You felt the sound of his voice vibrating through his chest against your cheek.

“Tomorrow night is Halloween, and I know the last party we went to kind of ended badly, but I was wondering…” your voice trailed off. Somehow even after getting so close earlier, you were still nervous to be asking this.

“What? Do you want to get away from everybody? Spend some alone time together?” Sam finished your sentence for you with heavy insinuation in his tone, and it was exactly what you were going to say.

“Yes, I do” you buried your face into his chest, already feeling the way your core throbbed at the thought of finally having him.

“What if I said I already thought of that?” He asked, making you peek back upwards at him. He was staring affectionately back at you as his palm ran up and down your back. His irises were a shot of deep espresso surrounded by milky white, a sight you wanted to drink in forever.

“I’d say I might be in love with you then” you confessed, though it didn’t feel like a big deal. You'd loved Sam for a long time, you could just say it out loud now.

Now that it was bright outside with the late afternoon sun beaming through the windows of Sam’s car as you drove down the highway, you didn’t even realize that the landscape of trees outside looked familiar until he was turning down that same dirt road he had the night of the costume party a week ago.

“Why are we here?” You questioned, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, flashes of that night invading your mind and making your blood pressure sky rocket.

“I thought it would be nice to come back here now that it’s just us. I don’t want your memory of this place to be bad forever” he explained, feeling sorry for not mentioning it to you first, but he didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

“Whose cabin is this anyways?”

“It belongs to Jake’s girlfriend’s grandparents, but they don’t get around much anymore so they’ve kind of let us take it over. We came here to write some music at one point. I really love it here”.

“Well,” you looked out the window, watching the rather large wooden building with the wide porch and large windows that warmed the living areas with lots of natural light come into view at the top of the hill. It was a rather beautiful place, and you did always like being submerged in the outdoors, so you put your hesitation aside and let the excitement for the day's awaited activities seep in again. “I guess it’ll do then” you blushed, thinking about all the filthy things you were about to do in someone else’s space.

Sam grabbed your small duffel bag packed with a few changes of clothes and your toiletries, slinging it over the same shoulder as his backpack, and took your hand in his as he led you up to the front door. “You should’ve seen this place when we first got here. It was covered in dust, and spider webs, I had the worst allergies for like three days after we all cleaned it up”.

“You have the worst allergies anyways” you giggled as he fumbled with getting the brass key out of his pocket so he could unlock the deadbolt. “Here let me help”. You grabbed the key from him and it slid into the lock like butter, the door popping open with the wood having settled years ago.

“So they just let you have the key when you asked to stay here?” You raised your brows in interest when the two of you made it inside and he guided you down the hallway away from the kitchen, which was the only room you really got to see last time, and into a bedroom to put your things away.

“Yeah,” he replied modestly with a pitch in his voice, remembering exactly what had been said when he asked.

“Just don’t break any furniture little brother” Jake teased him with a knowing look in his eye after Sam explained it would just be you and him staying the night.

“I said I wasn’t really feeling giving out candy to kids all night and wanted somewhere quiet to relax”.

“Right,” you stood in the threshold of the doorway, your eyes flicking back and forth from Sam to the small bed with the wooden bedframe just behind him, “relax…”

Sam got your drift, moving to capture you by the waist and pull you further into the bedroom with him. You let out a loud laugh as he tickled your neck with kisses, his hands falling to the swell of your ass and giving it a squeeze. “If it’s relaxing you want I can stay in one of the other bedrooms? There’s like three down that hallway” you teased.

“I don’t fucking think so”. Sam’s demeanor quickly started to shift from his usual playful self to something entirely more starved, more lustful. “You’re staying right here with me, and the second I get you out of these clothes it’s over for you”.

Your thighs pressed together involuntarily and your hands came up to cradle the back of Sam’s head, letting your fingers tangle into his long luscious hair. “What are you waiting for then? Strip”.

There was no asking twice, Sam was already lifting your shirt over your shoulders and throwing it onto the floor before capturing your lips into a frenzied kiss. His hands returned to your back, but instead of traveling downward this time he reached upwards between your shoulder blades to unclasp your bra, the straps falling loose in between where your chests were pressed together.

When you broke the kiss you leaned backwards in his grasp and slipped free of the now useless piece of undergarment, shyly letting him see your bare chest for the first time. His eyes grew wide as he took in your perky breasts, nipples already hardening with the slightly chilly late October air in the cabin, and in one head spinning move he bent down and lifted you up.

Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist for support before you even realized what was happening, and his mouth latched on, sucking and licking needily while he turned and walked the few steps over to the bed. The mattress was softer than you expected when he threw you down, quickly shedding his own layers of button up shirt and heathered T underneath before climbing on with you.

When he approached on all fours you took in the sight of him, hair a tousled mess from your hands, and smooth golden honey skin marked only by the red welts still scratched into the side of his neck.

He had healed remarkably fast over the past week. It was astonishing really how he was already well enough to do this much physical activity, but he said it didn’t bother him at all anymore and that the scar that was forming was actually kind of cool.

“Sam, do you feel alright? You’re warm again” You asked when he came to lay on top of you, his hips grinding against your center in a way that made you ache all over.

“I feel amazing,” he groaned, the obvious proof of his arousal pressing tight against the front of his pants. “I just want you so bad, it’s driving me crazy”.

Your hands roamed all along the slender lines of his back. His skin felt hot to the touch despite the goosebumps that pickled against your exposed stomach, but you brushed it off as the rushing of his blood just underneath the surface. You could feel your blood rushing too, your heart working in overdrive to keep up with the reactions your body had to his touch.

Sam kissed at your breast again, pulling a soft whimpering moan from you as his mouth traveled lower and his nimble fingers worked at unbuttoning your pants. “Need to taste you first, is that okay?”

How someone could possibly say no to that was besides you, but that would be a thought for another time because now all you could think about was how Sam was perched between your legs waiting rather impatiently for your answer.

You fervently agreed, and with that your pants were being pulled down your hips and off your legs in one fast movement. Then again, only slower, your panties were removed as well as Sam watched for any wavering conviction.

When he saw that there was nothing but pure desire behind your eyes, he descended again, positioning himself comfortably with one of your legs wrapped around his shoulder and the other spread against the bed for a full view at just how turned on you were as well.

With the first touch of his tongue against your core you were already arching your back off the mattress, “Sam” falling from your lips in a wonton moan.

Sam groaned at the sound of his name coming from you in that way, and dove in, unable to hold himself back any longer. He ate you out like a lost man stranded on a deserted island finding a puddle of water to quench his undeniable thirst, lapping at your entrance and sucking on your swollen clit until you were writing beneath him.

“Oh my god Sam” you moaned again, reaching down to grab a fist full of his hair to ground yourself as you felt your first climax rushing towards you. He pressed his fingers deeper into the skin of your hip, pulling you down closer so that there was nowhere else for you to go, your involuntarily squirming only grinding yourself harder against his mouth.

One more heavy flick of his tongue and you were seizing, your legs closing around him as your body shook with pleasure. Sam never stopped, it was like he didn’t even need air the way he just swallowed down your release with a satisfied hum, resurfacing with a glistening chin and a smug grin.

“Taste so good baby” he placed one last kiss to your thigh before sitting up and unbuttoning his pants, “got to feel you do that again on my cock”.

All the morality you had left in you was out the door now as you watched him shed his last pieces of clothing, your mouth watering at the way his length sprung free when he pulled his boxers off. You wanted him in your mouth too, wanted to taste him just like he’d done for you, but Sam couldn’t wait any longer to have you.

Reaching behind you, he grabbed one of the many fluffy pillows that adorned the bed and lifted your hips to stuff it underneath them.

“Tell me if it’s too much and I’ll go slower” he leaned forward over your body, coming to rest on one of his elbows as he brushed away a few strands of hair from your face.

“No Sammy this is perfect” you smiled up at him, reaching for his cheek so you could pull him down into a deep kiss.

He kissed you back, returning it with more intensity as his hips began to rock into yours, his tip gliding through your wetness and brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves until he finally slipped inside. You gasped at the stretch, clawing at his back as he inched all the way in until you were taking every bit he had to offer, and it was a lot.

“Fuck I-” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut in concentration as he tried to reel himself back and not start pounding into you like a wild animal.

You placed a kiss between his brows, encouraging him to relax and let go, and he did. With an exhale, Sam settled against you and started to rock his hips forward, not even pulling out, just nudging as deep as he could go.

“Feels amazing Sammy, please…” you whined, already having adjusted to his size and ready for more.

Grabbing a hold of your hips once more Sam sat up and pulled back, watching as his entire length disappeared into you as he snapped forward again, causing you to cry out in ecstasy. He lost himself in that motion, tirelessly working you both towards your peak with each blow delivered right to your sweet spot with the help of your elevated hips.

“How does this feel so good?” He emphasized each word with another hard thrust, the heavy headboard thumping against the wall in a way that made you grateful you had decided to get away for this, though never expecting your first time together would be this hot.

Passionate? Yes. But this was more than that.

You and Sam physically aligned in a way unsurpassed by any of your previous partners, and by the fucked out look on Sam’s face he certainly felt the same way.

The way you clenched around him made Sam know you were getting close again, he was getting close too, but he wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. Actually he felt like he was only just getting started. So he grabbed one of your legs and tossed it over your lap, twisting you at the waist until you were rolling over onto your stomach. He helped you up by lifting your hips until you were situated on your knees, then he started to pound into you from behind with an unrelentless force that was making you see stars.

“Come here sexy” he reached around between your legs, finding your clit again with the pads of his fingers as he started to rub tight circles across it. All the while you met each thrust with your own rocking back and forth, pressing your ass against him with loud claps of skin against skin, your lovemaking the only sounds resonating through the secluded cabin.

“Don’t stop, I’m almost there” you panted, so out of breath but still enough air in your lungs to beg him to make you cum again. And you did, hard, to the point your vision was blurring and your mouth fell open but nothing could escape the confines of the grip your orgasm had on your mind and body.

“Fuck, that’s it right there”. The feeling of you releasing again toppled him over the edge too, and Sam pulled out just in time to send hot ropes of cum shooting across your backside.

You both stayed still for a few moments, trying to come down from your highs and the residual effects that held your bodies in aftershock, until Sam left the bed and grabbed his t-shirt from the floor to help wipe you down.

He collapsed onto the bed after, gathering you up in his arms and pulling you to his chest. It was sticky with sweat, but you didn’t mind. A shower could always come later, all you wanted right now was to be held by your boyfriend and listen to his heartbeat fluttering wildly.

“You’ve been holding out on me” Sam broke the silence once more with an amazed laugh, his mind still replaying the scene before like footage stuck in a loop.

“Was not” you teased him, running your finger in circles around one of his nipples to see his reaction. He only laughed some more, grabbing your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips for a kiss to your palm.

“Were too” in true Sam fashion he argued back. “To think, we could’ve have been doing that for a whole week now”.

“Not a whole week. You just got out of the hospital and needed rest”.

He squeezed his arm around your shoulders tighter, “No, I think all I needed was you, cause I feel better than ever”. You couldn’t help but glance down, noticing he was still pretty hard despite already cumming once.

“You know Sammy, I did already tell you that I’m on birth control, didn't I?”

Sam thought about it for a moment, and he could recall you mentioning it one time as a kind of off handed comment once you started getting a little more physical in your relationship. “Yeah? Why do you ask?” He cocked a brow, hoping this conversation was going exactly where he wanted it to.

“We’ll because you didn’t…” you trailed off, a bright pink blush surfacing in the apples of your cheeks preventing you from saying it aloud, but Sam knew just what you were trying to say.

“What is it sexy?” He cooed into your ear, sending shivers down your spin as his other hand came down to grip your side. “You wanted me to cum in you? Is that it?”

His voice sounded like raw electric current, shocking its way through your body, waking up every nerve in its path and settling right in your core. “Well, what’s the harm? Should be safe as long as I keep track of everything”.

More than willing to correct his wrong, Sam’s hand hooked underneath your knee and he pulled you on top of him. “What if I want to get you pregnant though?” He pressed, connecting his lips to your neck and making you arch your back.

“Sam-” your voice was caught in your throat when he sucked harder and the head of his cock pressed against your entrance, just begging for you to drop your hips and let him enter you again. “I want that too, but not right now”.

“No. Not now,” he agreed, licking over the mark he left, “but someday. I want that. Want you to have my babies. What do you think? Six? Seven?”

“Sam!” You gasped in disbelief, “that many?”

“As many as you’ll let me give you” he shamelessly admit, moving his nibbling teeth to your shoulder next. “Think we should start practicing now?”

“Think I want you to kiss me again” you answered, bringing your lips to his just as you sank down onto him in one go. He groaned into your mouth, and you bit at his lips, getting him back for all the filthy things he had so easily said that got you all flustered again.

If you thought getting fucked by Sam was great, being in control was even better. With your hands planted firmly on his chest you sat up, getting yourself in just the right position before preparing for the ride of your life.

The slick between your legs made it easy to grind down on him, bringing out low guttural moans from Sam beneath you. “God, are you always this wet?”

“No” you smiled coyly down at him, “this is just for you”.

It didn’t take long for either of you to reach the metaphorical edge again. Though you were breathing heavily and sweat was beginning to glisten your skin, it felt like no work at all to get there. Because it had never been this easy with anyone else before.

Sam’s grip on your thighs tightened, and you felt him throbbing inside just before the flooding of warmth that invaded all your senses and sent you toppling over as well. You kept gliding your hips, begging for every last drop until Sam was a whimpering mess and you were both boarding overstimulation.

When you lifted off, Sam watched with hooded eyes as his release slowly dripped from you. A sight he’d secretly dreamed of in more than one of those late lonely nights alone on the bus as the swaying of the frame against the wheels lulled him to sleep.

“Better?” He teased, taking too much enjoyment from picking on you. You welcomed it though. You and Sam were always head to head when it came to teasing each other and it was comforting to know that in your quickly developing relationship at least that hadn’t changed.

You weren’t willing to back down either, even if Sam had just given you everything you ever could have wanted. “No not yet, I’m starving now”.

With legs that felt like jello, you climbed off him, picking up his thin flannel from the floor and slipping it over your frame. The buttons were crooked, but you didn’t care since you were only bothering with three of them anyways. Just enough to cover your chest and the rest was left hanging open as you found your underwear next.

You left Sam to decide how dressed he wanted to get and you wandered your way through the cabin, taking in the old photos framed on the wall of a family you were unfamiliar with yet felt oddly connected to.

Once you found the kitchen again you noticed that it was still a mess from the party. Apparently after all the commotion of that night no one had the time to come back up here and clean up. You tucked your hair behind your ears and found a large black trash bag from underneath the sink to start collecting things to throw away, emptying out leftover cups in the sink as you went.

Before long, a pair of arms circled around you from behind making you jump in surprise. Sam had never been that quiet before, you could usually hear his bare feet slapping against the floor from a distance, but he’d managed to catch you off guard this time.

“You don’t have to do that. Jake and I were going to clean up tomorrow”.

“I don’t mind” you replied, leaning over your shoulder to peck him on the cheek. “It’s the least I can do for them letting us borrow the place for the night”.

“Well, while you do that I’ll see what I can find for us to snack on”. Sam moved over to the fridge, pulling it open to see it was practically bare besides some beers that hadn’t been claimed at the party, a pitcher of purified water that was nearly empty, and an opened container of Halloween themed cupcakes.

“Hmm, Jake could have mentioned we should stop by the grocery store” he huffed as he pulled the cupcake box out and set it on the island you had cleared off.

“Think we can get pizza delivered?” You chuckled, though you were still eyeing a particular cupcake that looked really good right about now. Setting the half full bag aside, you joined Sam at the other end of the island, knowingly reaching over in a way that he could see down the shirt.

“Maybe…” he trailed off, not even hiding the way he was revenging your body with his eyes, then he leaned back to get a look at your ass peeking out from under the flannel, clad in nothing but your panties. “You’re going to have to hide when I answer the door though. Can’t let anyone else get to see you like this now can I?”

“Hmm,” you pretended to think about it for a moment as you used your pointer finger to gather some of the cold frosting from your cupcake, and popped it into your mouth. “What about you?”

Sam had only pulled his boxers back on, the rest of his body still bare for you to ogle at as much as you wanted now that he was yours. You came around to where he stood, wrapping your arms around him and kissing at his back.

“Sammy?” You pulled away, the flirtatious tone in your voice fading into something more concerned. “Baby think you’re running a fever”.

“Really?” He started to realize you had mentioned more than just a few times how warm he felt to your touch, but he hadn’t noticed himself. There was something different though, and his brows furrowed as he tried to figure out exactly what it was.

“Do you think your wound got infected? Do you ache anywhere” you let your hands brush across his back, a small part of you a little worried about having spiked his fever by having sex.

“No, physically I feel fine, but something else is off. I don’t know, it's like my mind is fogged or something. Maybe I could just use some air”.

Trying not to worry too much you stepped aside and let him make his way out to the back porch, keeping an eye on him through the windows. After deciding he wasn’t about to suddenly drop dead or anything, you turned to look for anything in the kitchen you thought might help.

In the fridge you filled the water purifier back up to the top then moved on to rummaging through the cabinets. Most of them were filled with mix matched plates, mugs, and cooking equipment for camping, but finally in the last cabinet you checked there happened to be a box of camomile tea that had expired a couple of months ago, but you figured it couldn’t do more harm than good.

You microwaved some water in a random mug and set the tea bag inside to let it steep for a few minutes, closing up the cupcake box and putting it back away in the meantime.

Next to the door there was a set of light switches. The sun had nearly disappeared behind the tree line by now so you flicked the first switch on, it was for the living room. Leaving that one on for now you moved to the next. Sam glanced over his shoulder when an overhead light came on outside, and you joined him with his tea.

“Thanks” he smiled and took a sip before turning back around to stare up at the sky some more.

“It’s freezing out here” you shivered, wrapping your arms around your barely clothed body, but you didn’t want to leave him out here alone any longer.

“Come here” he reached his hand out, and you took it, allowing him to pull you in front of him so he could drape his chest against your back. You were immediately enveloped in his warmth, and you leaned back against him with a sigh.

The scenery was quaint but beautiful nonetheless. Behind you the sun cast its last reach of light as it set to the west, and before you the darkness of night crept closer. Birds still flew in the sky above the treetops, and remnants of the bonfire from the party rest in the distance.

Your eyes braved a glance in the direction Sam had disappeared to that night right after your fight. Feeling weary you grabbed his arm and wrapped it tighter around you, hoping the squeeze would keep reminding you that he was right here, safe. “I still can’t believe there was a bear out there. What if it had come out into the yard?”

Sam tensed behind you and you immediately regret bringing it up. Neither of you had talked about the incident since it happened, both a little too preoccupied with starting to date and since he had healed so well it kind of faded away into the background.

“It wasn’t a bear” Sam muttered, just barely loud enough that you could only hear it since you were so close. You turned your head up towards him, confused as this was the first time you were hearing him say anything at all about it. “Wolf,” he continued, his eyes still fixed on the moon hanging above your heads. “It was a wolf”.

“A wolf?!” You exclaimed, unable to sort out in your mind which was worse. How had he been able to survive a wolf attack? And what kind of wolves went around scratching people in the neck?

“I don’t really remember what happened. One second I was walking through the trees, I actually thought you had followed me because I heard something behind me, but when I turned around it must’ve attacked me. I think I blacked out from the trauma, and when I came to I was leaning against Danny and you were crying”.

A pang of guilt shot through you again, and tears threatened to spill at the thought of Sam thinking you had come after him only to get attacked by an animal… You turned around in his hold, cupping his face in your cold hands, gingerly holding his attention. “I’m so sorry I let that happen. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I want to keep you safe, always”.

“Nothing that happened is your fault” Sam quickly eased you even though you were the one supposed to be consoling him. “If anything, I’m glad it happened so that we could come together like this. I feel like something is changing in me, and I’m really glad I have you to lean on”.

Something changing? You hadn’t realized the event had made such an impact on him mentally, but you had to agree you were glad he knew you were here if he needed anything at all. Taking his mug from him, you squat down to place it on the ground out of harm's way, and slowly as you raised back up you planted soft little kisses along his body.

Firstly one on each thigh, then on the lowest bit of his stomach just above the waistband of his boxers. One to his sternum, then a pair for both sides of his clavicle, and lastly as gentle as you possibly could you placed a tender kiss to his scarred neck.

When you were done Sam pulled you into a swift kiss. The feeling of his lips slotting against yours, his warm body pressing you up against the beams of the banister, it was enough to melt away your worries.

Sam lifted you onto the banister next, and you wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders so you wouldn’t fall backwards even though you knew he would never allow that to happen. His lips moved to your neck, leaving a new love bite next to the one from earlier, and with what sounded like a low growl he ripped the buttons off his shirt to expose your chest to him.

“Sam!” You gasped, hearing the tiny plastic pieces bounce around somewhere on the porch before ultimately disappearing. “Again?”

“Again” he growled once more, reaching between your bodies to slip his hand into your underwear.

You sighed into the touch. Normally you wouldn’t be ready for another round so soon, but as his fingers found your clit you were already starting to pool with need.

When you whimpered his name again, Sam pulled his boxers down and moved your underwear to the side, just fast enough for him to enter you in one fluid movement. You bit your lip trying to muffle your cries of pleasure, considering you were on the back porch, but Sam wasn’t about to have that.

“There’s no one out here for miles, you can be as loud as you want”.

One of your hands left Sam’s shoulder and you reached up to gather some of his hair at the back of his head into your fist, giving it a hard tug. “Only if you are loud too”.

Sam’s reaction to the hair pull was just as you hoped. He picked up the pace, his actions becoming rushed and sloppy but that didn’t stop the fire from being igniting between you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuck” he did moan loudly, waiting for you to pull again. When you did his hips stuttered and he let out another low growl. “I’m cumming”.

“Me to” you pulled his hair once more but this time to get him closer so you could crash your lips together, your shared climaxes washing over you as the last traces of light disappeared behind the cabin.

“Have you always had that much stamina?” You questioned between bites of the pizza Sam successfully ordered while you were getting cleaned up in the shower. You had met every one of Sam’s girlfriends in the past. Some you liked, some you thought he was absolutely insane for putting up with, and he had met all of your exs as well. Though the two of you never really talked about sex stuff before. Probably for good reason, because if you had known you two were going to be such a good match physically as well, then this likely would have happened a lot sooner.

“I’ve never been a one-pump-chump if that’s what you’re asking” Sam replied as he chewed a large bite.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth you animal” you poked his still bare chest, though after showering himself he had opted to at least put on some sweats for comfort.

“You asked me a question” he shrugged, tearing off another bite, unbothered.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, finishing your plate and offering to grab him another random beer from the fridge while you were up.

After dinner Sam put a movie on and you sat next to him on the tiny couch in the living room, your legs stretched out over his lap and your head resting on his shoulder. “I’m going to be sad when you have to leave again” you muttered, not having been able to pay attention to the old flick he found on one of the few channels the TV got reception to way out here.

Sam squeezed your waist for comfort, “I know, maybe you can come with us for a while? Take a semester off?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “that will only delay my graduation. I don’t want to be in school for any longer than I need to”.

“That’s alright, we will make it work. Everyone else does”.

“Right” you agreed, trying not to pick at your cuticles out of habit. You knew Sam would do anything for you, and you him, but you couldn’t help but feel like the worst of your struggles were not yet behind you.

Sam reached for the remote and clicked off the TV, offering to carry you to bed which you adamantly declined but that only resulted in him chasing you down the hallway in a fit of laughter.

“I know this has all sort of changed rather quickly” Sam mumbled quietly in the dark of the bedroom, both of you holding each other close underneath the quilt.

“Yeah? I don’t think so” you smiled. Really you got where he was coming from, but when it came down to it you knew these feelings had always been there and you and Sam had already been so close before. “I mean, this is kind of new” you let your hand trail down his chest, tickling the light dusting of hair above his groin.

“Mmm, you sure you’re ready to go there again?” Sam cocked a brow as if challenging you to test your luck further.

You retreated your hand, tucking it back against his chest as you turned onto your side. “Maybe in the morning”.

“Morning, right” Sam nodded his head, yeah he could work with that. “What I meant to get at was, I don’t want you to think I’m being ingenuine when I say things. It’s just I think I’ve felt this way for a long time, and now that I can be honest with myself about it I can’t help but need you to know”.

“Know what Sam?” your voice fell into a hush again, feeling the atmosphere shift from friendly banter, to something more intense and sincere.

He turned onto his side as well, wanting to look you directly in the eyes. “I love you”.

You felt your heart thump fiercely in your chest, your love for him having manifested itself there for longer than you could even remember, and you knew there was nothing left for you to do but to simply say it back. “I love you too Sam”.

In the morning you shared leftover pizza, just passing the time by enjoying each other's company. Really enjoying each other's company. It was going to be a miracle if you were able to walk straight by the time you left this cabin.

Shortly after the noon hour, a knock finally came at the door, bringing you and Sam out of yet another heated make out session on the couch as a random record from a forgotten stack you’d found in the closet of one of the other bedrooms spun on the player in the background.

“Jake” Sam nodded when he answered the door after you ducked into the room to find some more appropriate clothing options to put on.

“Sammy” Jake nodded back, a knowing smirk planted across his face as he stepped inside.

“Hey!” You greeted them a little too enthusiastically, trying not to sound like they had interrupted anything at all. They greeted you back and you watched as Jake and his girlfriend filled in, but in tow behind them was someone neither you or Sam recognized.

“Oh, so this is my older brother Theo” Jake’s girlfriend introduced the unknown man.

Sam stepped up first, offering his hand to shake and introduce himself back, then wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “And this is my girlfriend”.

“Stop, please” you groaned dramatically, pushing him away and introducing yourself.

Theo seemed distant during the entire interaction, and you didn’t quite understand why he was here if he hadn’t even met Sam yet. Jake seemed comfortable with him though, and you trusted his opinion of people so you didn’t bother to read into it too much.

“Right, so should we get to cleaning up then?” Jake’s girlfriend suggested, grabbing her boyfriend by the arm and pulling him into the kitchen where she was pleased to see that you had already started to pick up all the trash.

“I’m going to go put a shirt on” Sam informed you, leaving you with a kiss to the top of your head as he left for the bedroom.

Grabbing another trash bag from the kitchen you let Jake and his girlfriend know you’re going to start in the backyard, remembering from yesterday having seen quite a bit of trash still out there.

“Hey, I think you might want to come back in here” Jake held the back door open as he called out to you. He wore a look of uneasiness as you approached the porch, and you abandoned the bag of garbage to see what was the matter.

Once back inside you saw Sam, flustered out of his mind as he tore through drawers and cabinets all while mumbling frantically to himself “where are they?”

“What is it?” You asked, approaching him slowly since he was running around madly.

“Fuck!” He shouted loudly, almost completely ignoring you as he stopped in the middle of the kitchen to think for a second. As if he suddenly remembered something, he ran back down the hallway and into another bedroom, finally returning with a crumpled pack of cigarettes and pushed his way past all the staring eyes to go out onto the back porch.

“What happened?” You turned back to Jake. You had never seen Sam act that way before, so whatever it was that got him so riled up definitely terrified you.

“Don’t know, he was in the bedroom for a while then just came bursting out like a lunatic” Jake replied, wishing himself that you could answer the question for him.

“I’m going to go check on him”. You pulled on a convincing smile, trying to give Jake a bit of peace of mind when in reality you were worried about what you might uncover when you stepped back outside.

Sam was hunched over the banister, a lit cigarette dangling between his fingers, the smoke blowing towards you with the wind. “Baby?” You called out to him in your sweetest most tender voice. He ignored you but he wasn’t acting crazed anymore, you noticed though as he brought the cigarette slowly to his mouth for another drag that his hands were trembling uncontrollably. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know” Sam finally replied as he blew out the smoke, taking another long pull from the butt before slumping back over.

“Talk to me Sam” you stepped up next to him, attempting to place a comforting hand on his shoulder that he flinched away from. “You’re scaring me”.

“I don’t know if I can say” he looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot like he was about to burst into tears. What could be bothering him so badly that he felt like he couldn’t talk to you about it? “I don’t think you’ll believe me”.

“Don’t you remember what you told me last night? That the things you say are genuine? Well I believed you then, why wouldn’t I believe you now?”

Sam huffed, shaking his head like you just didn’t understand. “That was different. This is…” he trailed off, taking the last drag before pressing the cigarette out against the rotting wood. Suddenly he turned to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, dropping his head onto your shoulder. “You promise you won’t think I’m crazy?”

You smoothed the back of Sam’s hair with your hand, your other arm coming around to hold him steady. “I mean everyone already thinks that but we still love you” you teased lightly, trying to bring some normality back in the conversation.

He lifted his head and took your hand, guiding you over to a pair of wooden rocking chairs on the other end of the porch. When you both sat down you kept his hand in your own, cradling it there for support as he gathered how to tell you what was wrong.

“It’s umm, Theo” he began and your back straightened out a little. You knew you had gotten a vibe from him when he entered with everyone else, like a dark cloud had followed them, but you never would have expected him and Sam to get into it like this. “He came into the bedroom and told me we needed to talk. It was weird. I knew Jake’s girlfriend had a brother but he was never around so I don’t really know him, but I agreed anyways”.

“Ok?” Your mind was racing with all the possibilities of what they could have talked about, everyone staying at his family’s cabin, maybe money, but nothing would have prepared for what Sam was about to unveil.

“He told me that he was here last week, and when he heard that I was the one who had been attacked that night in the woods, he had to come and warn me”

“What?” If he was at the party then why hadn’t any of you met him then?

Sam’s free hand came up and he timidly touched the scar now adorning his neck, and if you weren’t sure that it was absolutely impossible you could have started to put two and two together yourself. It was impossible though. Just a scary story to keep people out of the woods at night. An urban legend made up to blame the way people acted on the cycles of a big rock in the sky. So you sat quietly and let him continue.

“I didn’t believe him at first, but then he lifted his shirt and on his side I saw he had the same scar as I did. The scar he got three years ago when he was out here fishing alone, something followed him back from the lake, and when he tried to fight it off he got scratched, by a large wolf”.

A wolf… You tried again to imagine how it must’ve happened, but you couldn’t wrap your mind around it entirely. “So what does this all mean Sam? What was he trying to warn you about?”

There was a moment of silence as he gathered the courage to answer, his mouth opened and he pulled in a deep breath of air, but the words couldn’t come out whole. “On the next full moon, I’m- I’m going to… change”.

“Change?” You repeated, trying to finish the sentence for him “into a wolf?”

Sam cringed, pulling his hand away from you and leaning back into the chair. “You think it’s crazy don’t you”.

“I think you’ve both been through something traumatic, and you haven’t really talked with anyone about it…”

“I haven’t talked to anyone because I’ve had this weird nagging feeling like something is wrong since it happened. I thought maybe it was those antibiotics the doctors sent me home with so I stopped taking them”.

“Sam” you gave him a disappointed look, but didn’t have the heart to truly scold him right now. “You could have talked to me, could have told me”.

“I know,” he sighed, “and I should have, but everything was going so well between us. I was so happy, I didn’t want to spoil anything”.

It was hard for you to hear that he had been keeping this from you, especially because you thought you had been doing such a good job at taking care of him. The guilt you felt still had yet to subside though, so you didn’t fault him for not wanting to make it worse. If anything you did blame yourself some more for not noticing something was wrong. Then it hit you, “so every time I touched you, and you were so warm…”. It certainly was crazy to believe him, but for some reason you did, it made sense even if just a little bit and that was enough for you to stand by him.

Sam looked relieved that you somehow seemed to be seriously considering this outlandish tale to be true, but it unnerved him the same. “What am I going to do? What’s going to happen to me? I don’t even know who I can tell… even if my brothers and Danny do believe me too, what about the band? We play shows at night, I can’t very well come out on the stage on all fours”.

These were all valid questions for Sam to have, but honestly you didn’t even know where to begin to find the answers. The only thing you knew was Sam meant the world to you and you needed to make sure he knew you were always going to be there for him. So you gathered your resolve and stood, pulling on a supporting smile. “Let’s start with Jake first, he’s really worried about you. After, we still have three weeks to figure everything out right? Until the next full moon?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, and he raised to take your hand again allowing you to guide him back into the cabin where surly, he would be received with all the love and acceptance he needed.

[pilferingapples]

@bobafish, re:

#please elaborate on courf's temper 👀👀#tbh I hadn't heard that before

OK! :D these are just Thoughts about him character wise and not like...deep XD

to be clear I don't think Courfeyrac has a BAD temper, I don't think he's a screamy scary guy who blows his top all the time! I want to make that clear; Courfeyrac is clearly A Delight and a charmer.

I do think he has a quick temper, though--quick like a firecracker, where it flares up and dies back in a blink, and , usually ,doesn't do any harm. Two main points make me think this: 1- the Charter Torching Scene. He's just talking with Combeferre, who he knows fundamentally agrees with him, but he gets so worked up about the existence of the Charter itself that he has to throw it in the fire. This is fine! It's a stupid pamphlet none of them need, he's being Dramatic and it's very funny-- but it's definitely not a Relaxed Easygoing Move XD It's pretty much a summary of how I think his temper works-- he gets riled up, he makes a quick comment or gesture (in this case: Setting A Thing on Fire) and he's done. A quick temper, not a bad temper. 2- "Hold your tongue, you cask!" said Courfeyrac. (Night Falls on Grantaire) Couldn't think of any better leadup to it than that XD Courfeyrac is the first of the barricade fighters to lose his patience with Grantaire; it's not a big scene , it's just a quick "shut up" with a little extra insult, and --as I've said of Enjolras' rebuke to Grantaire in this scene-- it is fully deserved, Grantaire is being an ass in this scene. I don't think Grantaire even processes it, he just launches off in another direction. >< But he is the first person to tell Grantaire to shut up, getting exasperated with him even faster than Enjolras, who is pretty much Done with Grantaire's nonsense from the get-go.

There's also the way he's so quick with teasing, sometimes with results you know he doesn't want (like Marius avoiding him for days XD) . All of the Amis are pretty jokey, but Courfeyrac's noted by the narrative to be particularly fast on the draw with a nickname or a bit of a jab.

Again I hasten to say I don't think this makes him a Terrible Person-- I actually kinda roll my eyes at the level of Offense some people take off him -- but I think it's a little piece of characterization that separates him from Legle's more monologuing style of puns, or Grantaire's ...whatever the heck Grantaire is doing XD Courfeyrac gets associations with fire, for his warmth, and sometimes even a nice well contained fire can send out a spark that makes someone yelp; and he gets compared with cats and kittens, and sometimes even a very sweet cat will catch someone with its claws in passing- or on purpose, now and then .

(I bet he can be absolutely brutal when he wants, but that's reserved for people who have it coming. Like Rousseau. Kick his ghostly ass, Courfeyrac.)

[zriasstuff]

Tutoring lessons pt.1– Blaise Zabini x reader

In which you and Blaise get to know each other on a deeper level, which you never expected.

To be honest, I don’t know how to characterize Blaise at all, and all the “Slytherin Boys react” that I read always barely have any Blaise in it, so just run with it :’) part 2 is out too!

“Can we please just take a break”, Blaise annoyingly asks you for the thousandth time. It’s as if he was a little child who couldn’t focus for more than 10 minutes.

“No, we just need to go through one more question, then we can take a break”, you tell him, but that answer doesn’t seem to satisfy him.

One reason why this was so difficult for him is that he never did his own work in class. Hence, concentrating didn’t exactly come easy to him. The only reason for which Blaise was even passing, was him paying other people to do his work for him. It was something you could never imagine yourself doing.

So, you would think that when he asked you to tutor him, he actually started to care about school, but quite the opposite apparently. His behavior made you believe it was all just some elaborate joke by him.

It wasn’t merely today, you’d been doing this for weeks already and there seemed to be no progress at all. You started wondering whether the problem was you or him.

As you tried your best to explain the last question to him, he rolled his eyes resentfully, and signaled clearly to you that he wasn’t paying attention anymore. His head was tiresomely hanging from his shoulders, and he sighed as you went on and on about stuff he doesn’t care about.

“You got that?”, you check up on him occasionally, fearing that this was all just for nothing again.

“Uh-huh”, he responds in annoyance. It was the most unconvincing thing you ever heard. He could at least try to sound interested.

With the amount of time that had passed, in which he cared so little, you finally couldn’t take it anymore. Here you were, making sure a fellow classmate would pass his finals, and he was being nothing but ungrateful.

You shut the textbook promptly, which creates a loud banging noise, and look at the utterly unmotivated person sitting next to you.

“Could you please just try for a second because I’m starting to doubt you’d understand what we’re learning about, even if you tried”, you spurt out. The words coming from your mouth spilled out uncontrollably, it was like all your repressed inner thoughts were finally being said out loud.

“I’m really trying my hardest here, to make you understand and I’ve been getting nothing from you for weeks”, you continued your confrontation, although you started sounding a little desperate at this point. You keep looking at him intensely, while also coming off as extremely frustrated.

Blaise, after being shocked at first by your sudden frustration that you let out on him in a rather unfriendly way, counters with the same attitude right away.

“Listen, I know you think grades are the most important shit, but they’re not. I’m good at other things, and maybe I don’t want to work with you because you suck at explaining.”, he spits at you, gradually raising his voice.

Having said that, he actually got up, ready to leave the library altogether. Not that you minded, but something about this interaction felt unfinished. He still had to explain certain things to you, so you stop him in his tracks by following him and demanding him to stay.

“Just leave me alone, will you”, he sighs loudly, back still turned to you. “And you’re definitely fired”, he adds, quickly turning around and glancing at you as he’s saying that.

“S- Seriously?", you are stunned by his behavior. “How mature of you by the way, you’re firing me?”, you continue, mocking him along the way. “It’s not my fault you’re so stupid and slow, I mean it’s not like anyone else will have patience with you. So yeah, have fun failing”

Blaise finally fully turns to you again and opens his mouth for a second, but no words come out. Not sure what he was feeling, you suddenly start to feel a pit in your stomach building. Maybe you’d gone too far. You could’ve definitely expressed that in a nicer, more constructive way.

You were the only people left in the library, it was late. Perhaps that’s why this interaction felt like it was ages long.

Finally, after what seems like hours of just standing face to face without saying anything, you decide it was time to be the bigger person. Blaise certainly didn’t seem like he was ready to break the ice.

Innerly you know what you said before was uncalled for, but nonetheless every fight is a two person job.

“I- I’m sorry”, you begin, “what I said was uncalled for, and just out of frustration. I just, I just want to know that my tutoring is actually helping, you know.” You notice your voice getting more quiet as you go on, but as you were standing so close he must’ve still heard.

“You know I asked you to tutor me because McGonagall was on my ass, not because I actually cared”, he states.

“I kinda figured after the first few sessions”

Another moment of quietness passes before he goes on.

“At the start I actually wanted to do good, to prove I’m not as incompetent as everyone thinks I am”, he confesses honestly. This was the first time Blaise actually sounded genuine about something, it made you want to get to know him more.

“But after a while, I realized I was in fact hopeless and stupid-”

“Don’t say that”, you try to comfort him swiftly. It was dreadful when people said those hurtful things about themselves, but you know you and your earlier outburst were at fault here too.

“No it’s true, you just said it, don’t try to deny it”

Now you feel even worse. You never wanted to make him feel this bad about himself, and no one should ever think so low of themselves either. In the past, you also had plenty of self deprecating thoughts about yourself, but you tried your best to wash those away. Along the way you realized that you were so much better of a person than you’d ever given yourself credit for.

Quickly, you try to come up with something to make him feel better, but you're afraid you have ruined it. So, honestly, you tell him that you’re sorry and don’t know what to say. Whoever said “honesty is the best policy” better be damn right now you think.

Blaise pondered for a moment, but appeared to enjoy the honesty after all. Same as you, he decided to own up to his faults too.

“It’s not your job to make me feel better, besides I haven’t been the best student either. It just sucks having everyone think you’re the worst”

Slowly, you feel the tension completely dissolving between you two. Communicating was the key after all. Now you knew exactly what to say to Blaise.

“I know it sucks, and you can ignore what I said. But what I can give you as advice is that it’s your mindset that’s holding you back”

“What do you mean?”, he questions, raising an eyebrow at you, not fully understanding yet.

“You keep getting dragged down by all the negativity, so much that you started to give up on yourself too. It’s like you know you’re going to fail, so you don’t even try.”

“So you’re saying I should just believe in myself”, he asks to make sure he got what you said, also seeming rather unimpressed.

“Look, I know it sounds basic, but it’s true, no?”

As he’s thinking about what you said, Blaise sees your point. He did in fact never actually try. Copying off of others. Failing tests, saying he never studied to begin with. Never studying, so he’d have an excuse for why he failed. Not doing work because he’s afraid that if he did, he’d have a confirmation that he was in fact stupid. Perhaps it was really time to change something about his whole mindset.

“Will you keep trying to help me, if I promise I’ll actually try?”, he asks nervously. He realizes he just became more vulnerable than ever. Especially to someone he hadn’t even considered to be his friend before. He was looking forward to being friends with you though, and hopefully in the future he’d get to know things about you too. Before that, you had to decide though whether you wanted to help him.

“Well I don’t know”

“Oh-”

“Don’t you have to un-fire me first”, you joke. You practically saw the relief wash over his face. Looks like he really means what he was saying. Blaise expressed his gratitude for your help, and offered to do something for you too in the meantime. Since you couldn't think of anything, you just told him that tutoring him would look good on your resume too, and you left it at that.

Turns out, on your walk back to the Slytherin common room, that you two had a lot in common too, even if you had differences when it came to your studies. Surprisingly, your guys’ favorite quidditch team was the same, and you had the same favorite players. Both of you also shared the same dream vacation locations, and most importantly you both agreed that Malfoy kinda looked like a ferret.