#and its always the things that make me SO anxious like probably stupid to you but to me i literally contemplated suicide three times today

[ashmp3]

i had this sense of dread overcome my senses today felt like walls were closing on me etc and as always i was right its literally been hit after hit after hit today i will never find peace

[nagitoedit]

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[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You can’t stand each other, so it’s a mystery to you and Logan why you’re sent out together on an assignment. To make it worse, you’d have to act much closer than you really were.

Warnings:  mutant!reader (no specific power mentioned, though), fem!reader, enemies to lovers, swearing,  fake dating (technically fake marriage), mentions of violence, a little bit of suggestive stuff, a little bit of fluff i guess, and mild alcohol consumption. I think that's all but if i missed any, please let me know! also this is def loosely inspired by the movies 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and '10 Things I Hate About You'

Word Count: 5K

part 2

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ .

You hate the way he dresses.

You hate his stupid hair.

You hate the pet names he calls you.

You hate his voice.

You hate his hazel eyes.

You hate his smile.

You hate Logan Howlett.

It was no secret and neither was the fact that he couldn’t stand you either. You bickered like a married couple, constantly fought till you bled when you were training and couldn’t go a day without one of you insulting the other. Truthfully, it was probably because you were too alike - fire versus fire - and knew exactly how to press each other's buttons.

That’s why you were both confused when you stood in Charles’ office - dumbfounded expression on your faces - as he told you that he assigned you to a mission together.

“Oh, no way,” you nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke.

“Yeah, not happening,” Logan agreed. It may have been the only thing you’ve ever agreed on.

“That’s unfortunate for both of you, as I am sending you anyway. You are the only capable people that aren’t already out on an assignment or teaching a class full time.”

“How do you expect us to do it without killing each other?” you raised your eyebrows.

“You are adults. I trust you will navigate that on your own.”

Logan scoffed beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and biting the bullet, “what do we have to do?”

“There is a safe hidden in the home of a very wealthy socialite who’s been involved in orchestrating attacks on mutants - injecting them with a serum that replaces their mutation gene with that of a normal human,” Charles began to explain.

Your chest felt heavy. It always made you anxious and a little ill when you’d hear the stories of people who hated you so much that they’d go as far as to harm or violate you in some way, all in the name of trying to rid the earth of you completely or turn you into one of them.

“The only known sample of the serum is locked in that safe,” he continued, “and I will need you to retrieve it. You are to infiltrate a gathering being held in her home, obtain the contents of the safe and return promptly.”

“So, we’re…going to a party?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.

“A dinner party,” Charles replied, “and another thing - you must not attend as yourselves. You’ve been invited on the good word of another guest - someone we trust - but you’ve been invited as a married couple to avoid arousing suspicion.”

He must’ve been getting some sick enjoyment from this.

“Married couple,” you repeated, your eyes narrowed, “Us. You want us to pretend to be a couple.”

“What, do I have to like - touch her? I’m not doing that,” Logan piped up.

“Oh, i’m so disappointed,” you rolled your eyes, sarcasm clear in your voice, “Fuck off.”

“You fuck off.”

“No, you fuck off.”

“No, you.”

“I said it first!”

“Enough,” Charles interrupted, “you will be attending as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

“Huh,” Logan hummed, “that’s creative.”

“Its inconspicuous,” he replied.

“What are our first names, then?”

“You have creative liberty. I trust you will come up with something just as unremarkable.”

“How about Sid and Nancy?” you scoffed, chuckling a little in disbelief. 

“Does that mean I get to stab you?”

“You’d miss.”

Charles had his head in his hands.

“How about Jack and Jill?”

You both turned your heads to him when he spoke, pausing the back and forth between you that you were sure to continue later. You glanced at Logan and shrugged, indifferent to the names.

“That’ll work,” Logan mirrored your actions.

“Lovely. Tomorrow evening at five. I will have the address ready. In the meantime, here,” he opened his palm and placed two rings on the table, “these are your wedding bands.”

You huffed and took the smaller of the two, Logan picking up the plain silver band. Yours was simple - a false diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on each side.

“What, you couldn’t get me anything bigger?” you joked to Logan, holding up the ring. 

“Oh, you want somethin’ big?”

Your eyes went wide and you elbowed him in the arm, groaning in disgust, “Gross.”

—----------------

Five o’clock came fast, your nerves seemingly increasing the speed of time. You’d made a mess of your wardrobe looking for something to wear that was comfortable, but not too ‘you’. What would a rich person wear to a dinner party? How the hell were you supposed to know?

Some nice pants, a blouse and complimenting shoes would have to do - it was the only thing you had that looked relatively formal. Adding some jewelry made it just a little more convincing. 

You went down the stairs to meet Logan at the front door, dreading the coming hours. You turned the corner and finally saw him, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans, his boots, and he’d traded his usual leather jacket for a suit jacket. He actually cleaned up pretty nice, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.

He heard your footsteps and turned towards the sound. He could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck. 

He’d never seen you in anything nice like that - you never really had any occasions to dress up for - and he hated how much he liked it. Your pants hugged you perfectly, your blouse was buttoned low and you even had on a little bit of makeup. 

“You don’t look too bad,” he managed to comment, opening the door for you.

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you realized aloud, the both of you heading towards Logan’s truck, “You look alright.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.”

He opened the car door for you, uncharacteristically gentlemen-like.

You shot him an odd look and got in anyway.

“I’m practicing,” He explained, shutting your door and walking around to slide into his seat, “can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m a shit husband.”

“Good luck.”

“Uh-oh,” Logan had an amused expression, his eyes glued to the road as you began moving, “that’s not wife behavior, sunshine.”

“Bite Me.”

He clicked his tongue, “Feisty. Oh - I can use that when people ask about us! I’ll say it's one of your absolute worst qualities that any man would be repulsed by, but that our love is blind.”

You scoffed, “Great, and I’ll get to tell them you spend sixteen hours brushing your hair into cat ears and shed all over the bathroom like an animal.”

“See - now, that one seems a little personal.”

“It is.”

“Just pretend for a night that I’m the man of your dreams, okay?” he asked, “pretend I’m, uh - I don’t know, some celebrity guy you have a crush on.”

You were silent for a second, engrossed in thought, “you look nothing like Hugh Jackman.”

“Who? You know what - sure, pretend I'm him, alright? Just squint.”

Truthfully - and you’d rather be stabbed than admit it - Logan wasn’t far off from who you could picture yourself with. Strong, kind of handsome, good with kids. He was humble, most of the time. He was just terribly annoying and way too cocky.

It wasn’t long before he was shifting the truck into park and yanking the keys from the ignition. You let him open your door and walked beside him up the front steps.

“You ready, Jack?” you teased.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Jill.”

He rang the doorbell and you stood awkwardly, eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was huge - probably only a bit smaller than the mansion - and modern, something probably built in the last ten years. The front lawn was impeccable, as were the marble statues strategically placed between foliage and flora. 

The door opened and you inhaled sharply, trying to prepare yourself to lie your ass off.

“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith! So lovely to meet you, please - come in,” a woman ushered you in, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. You recognized her immediately, Charles having shown you both a picture of the hostess beforehand. You politely greeted her and introduced yourselves, already scanning the room for an emergency exit in case things went sour.

“So,” she continued talking, leading you to sit in the living room with the other mingling guests,”tell me a little about yourselves! John wasn’t very descriptive when he mentioned you. What do you do for work?”

Whoever John was, you silently thanked him.

“Uh, well,” you began, nervously glancing at Logan, “I’m a bank teller.”

Plain, boring, inconspicuous, 

She then looked to Logan expectantly, awaiting his answer. 

“Cage fighter.”

Jesus Christ. You were glaring daggers into the side of his smiling face and he pretended not to notice.

“Really?” the woman in front of you inquired, a hand on her chest. You watched her eyes scan him up and down, landing on the pecs prominent through his shirt. You scoffed out of instinct, faking a cough to cover it up.

‘Oh, yeah. Undefeated MMA champ.”

You looked away to hide the scowl on your face when your eyes locked on the vodka bottle sitting on the table a few feet away with a collection of other booze. Bingo.

“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” you smiled politely and walked away before Logan could protest, leaving him to his own devices.

You twisted the top off the bottle and picked up a glass, filling it with Vodka and some soda that was left on the table.You almost walked away with it, planning to keep it in your hands until you felt your nerves subside, until you remembered you were supposed to be a wife. Wives brought their husbands drinks, right? Not doing so would look rude and rude might blow your cover. So, you reluctantly picked up another glass and filled it partially with whiskey, knowing it was something he’d drink. You happened to glance across to the kitchen and notice a neat little rack of spices and condiments on the counter. A bottle of soy sauce was front and center, like a message from the universe, and you giggled to yourself as you snatched the bottle and hid it up your sleeve - this could be a good night if you made it entertaining.

You returned to Logan with both glasses, handing him the one filled with significantly darker liquid. He looked a little surprised but accepted it anyway.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with narrowed eyes, a look that asked ‘what are you up to now?’

You simply nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at the hostess still standing in front of you.

“She’s a keeper,” he continued, holding the glass up to his mouth, “ always knows exactly what I like.”

You bit back a snicker as you watched him tilt the glass and finally take a sip.

His eyes went to yours immediately.  He pulled the glass from his lips, mouth still obviously full of whiskey and soy sauce. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead.

“Good, honey?” you smiled wide then, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly fighting a grimace. He swallowed and nearly gagged, coughing into his fist, “mhm, just a little strong.”

“Oh,” the hostess began, “Jack was just about to tell us how you met!”

A couple of guests had gathered in the same spot, all lingering in a semicircle. Logan was quite the charmer and it wasn’t a surprise that he already had a couple of women gawking at him, hanging on his every word as if any of it was true. 

“Was he?” your tone was shrill but you attempted to appear playful, lightly smacking him on the arm, “Oh, honey, you should really let me tell it.”

Whatever he was about to come up with, you hoped it was not in the same outlandish category as cage fighting. Before you could begin, though, he dismissively waved his hand in your direction.

“No, no - you’re a little forgetful, sweetheart,” his grin was mischievous as he turned to speak to the surrounding guests, “so, it all started with a tshirt competition at a bar where the girls had to - “

“Nope! Nope,” you interjected, doing your best to keep your tone light and shaking your head, “haha - that must have been another girl, honey!”

That earned a few chuckles from the guests around you and you took the opportunity while everyone's attention was on you to try and spin a tale of your own.

“So, we actually met a couple years ago,” you started, mulling over what true details to sprinkle in or if you should make it up entirely, “uh - in a library.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. You’d been at the mansion for a couple days before you bumped into him in the library while gathering books to try and put together your first lesson plan. You had a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other - admittedly stupid - but you’d always been careful. Except for that once. 

You had a book open in your arms, resting atop the stack you already gathered. You were walking and reading - again, admittedly not very smart - when you bumped into someone, spilling coffee on both of you and sending the stack of books to the floor with an audible thump. 

“Fuck, sorry -” you began to apologize, finally looking up to the strangers face. It was Logan, of course, though you didn’t know that at the time. You remember thinking he was handsome with his scruffy mutton chops and well groomed hair - until he opened his mouth.

“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”

You knew it was partially your fault but were irked by his attitude.

“Dude, you weren’t paying attention either, obviously!” you snapped back, looking down at the beige stain now adorning your white button up.

“I’m not the one who carries coffee and a shit ton of books at the same time.”

“Whatever.”

That was your grand introduction, neither of you even exchanging names.

Logan remembered it about the same way you did, though the version he tells is a little different. He loved to tell people that when you bumped into him, it was because you were so lovestruck that you just walked right into him. The part he always left out, though, was the first thing he thought when he saw you. He’d scolded you before even looking up to see who you were and when he had, he wished he’d reacted a little differently. 

You were beautiful, even with coffee spilt all over yourself. You looked like a girl he’d only ever dreamed of, all the way down to the color of your hair and eyes. Unfortunately, he’d already been an asshole. So, from then on, that was basically your shtick - bickering over little things, calling each other names - all to the amusement of everyone around you. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was obvious to everyone else that the kind of teasing you did was only because you had feelings for one another - like two elementary school kids - and neither one of you seemed to know how to approach it. The mask would slip sometimes for either one of you - when he’d place a hand on your lower back, the times he’d managed to pin you to the mat during training - and you’d always find yourself staring at the ceiling that night, overthinking every interaction you’d had until the sun came up. He was never any better off, pacing in his room to try and decipher what the hell it was he actually felt for you.

Anyway, you decided to stick to the real story, minus the part where you insulted each other.

“We bumped into each other, literally, and I had coffee and a bunch of books in my arms. So, I drop the books, coffee spills everywhere - of course. Then I looked up at him, and..” you paused, the truth caught in a lump in your throat.

“And it was love at first sight,” Logan added, grinning down at you, “for both of us.”

His eyes were trained on yours and he continued to contribute to the story.

“The second I saw her, I fell in love.”

He was still looking at you. Why was he still looking at you like that? You were supposed to be husband and wife, right, but he was leaning into it far heavier than you expected. It felt like you were the only ones in the room.

A couple ‘aw’s were shared between guests and you smiled politely at the reminder that you were in fact not the only people in the room. As the conversation switched to another topic and someone else began to speak, you felt Logan’s hand at the back of your head, gently playing with your hair. Your face was pink - he was being too nice.

A short while later, you were sitting on the couch beside him, listening to someone’s drawn out story that you stopped paying attention to after six minutes.

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Logan uttered unceremoniously and stood from the couch. He disappeared into the house and not even a minute later, another guy came to sit in his spot.

“Hey,” he put his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think we’ve met.”

You looked at the fingers grazing your shoulder and sat forward to shrug them off, “nope.”

He told you his name and you couldn’t have cared any less, deciding to actually tune back into the story being told rather than converse with him. He was alright looking, but his approach was far too off putting. 

“So, did you come alone?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, opening your mouth to answer before he cut you off.

“Cause It looks like it, and I can’t stand to see a pretty girl alone.”

You groaned in disgust, hoping if you were dry enough in your answers, he’d leave you be.

“mhm.”

It wasn’t really an answer to anything, just a noise of affirmation. You hoped he’d get the hint then, but of course, he didn’t. In what would probably be the stupidest thing he’d done that night, the guy moved his arm from the back of the couch so he could squeeze your thigh. Right as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you saw a hand grip his shoulder from behind. Logan was leaning over the sofa, bringing his face a little lower so he wouldn’t cause a scene, his dog tags hanging when he leaned forward. He had a death grip on the guy's shoulder while he used his other hand to steady himself against the sofa. 

“Hey, bub.”

The guy looked a little terrified, to say the least, but Logan didn’t let up there.

“Do you always go around hittin’ on people’s wives? Or is it just mine?”

His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to run but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in his grip. 

“I-I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know she - “ the guy sputtered, trying to nervously laugh it off.

“Mhm. Hey, tell you what - why don’t you leave my girl alone and maybe I’ll give you a five minute head start to get the fuck out of here.”

He let go of his shoulder and that was enough to drive him away, the guy scurrying to his feet and finding somewhere else to mingle.

You didn’t know why you found yourself smiling the moment he’d said ‘my girl’. You rid yourself of it with a shake of your head, reminding yourself you were there to do a job.

“Hey,” Logan leaned himself down even further so he could whisper, “I gotta show you something, c’mere.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him but got up to follow. He stopped in the hallway in front of the bathroom, looked around to see if anyone would notice you, and promptly dragged you in with him before closing and locking the door. He hit the light switch and you looked around.

“Do you always take girls to the bathroom on first dates?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“You’d have to go out with me to find out,” he remarked, “besides, it’s not like that. Look.”

You watched him get low to the ground to open the cupboard under the sink and you crouched with him, following his pointing finger to the wood paneling in the back. It looked like a fake back - a board that appeared to be the back of the cabinet but definitely had something behind it. There was a sliver of metal visible behind it when you shined your phone’s flashlight.

“I figured we should look everywhere, so while I was in here I was checking it out - saw that. You think that’s it?”

“Could be,” you answered honestly, “that, or it’s some sort of electrical box we’re about to rip out of the wall. It’s an odd hiding spot for a safe.”

“Not really. Think about it - where's the first place you’d look for a safe?”

“Bedroom or office, maybe.”

“Right, and where's one of the last places you’d check?” he gestured to the open cabinet.

“Under…the sink,” you realized aloud, looking between him and the wooden board. 

“Exactly,” he nodded, swiping the contents of the cabinet onto the floor to gain access, “here’s the thing, though - I’m too big to get in there.”

He could maybe stick his head in, but in order to duck under the pipes from the sink, he’d need to have shoulders that were much less broad.

You sighed, knowing what that meant.

“Alright, alright - move. This better be it.”

You reluctantly crawled under the sink and into the cabinet on your hands and knees. You yanked the wooden board with all your strength and it came free, revealing a metal safe.

“Got it! You were right, it’s the safe.”

Logan simply hummed in response, clearing his throat. You figured he’d be a little more enthusiastic. 

Truthfully, he was too busy staring at your ass in the nice pants you were wearing to pay attention. When he heard your voice, he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having about you so he could think of a response. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you all dressed up drove him a little crazy.

“Yeah? Is it locked?”

You inspected the metal box, holding the absurdly large padlock hooked around the latch that opened the door.

“Uh-huh. Padlock - we’re gonna need the numbers.”

“No, we don’t. Bring it out.”

You did as you were told, crawling back out with the safe under your arm and placing it on the bathroom rug. It was a pretty small one - probably a little bigger than a basketball.

Logan picked it up and set it on the counter beside the sink. He unsheathed a claw and sliced through the metal latch that held the door closed in one swift motion.

“Well, yeah - that's one way to do it,” you shrugged.

“Easiest way to do it.”

He reached in and took out the small glass vial. He put it inside the pocket of his suit jacket.

“What if it falls out?” you asked.

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Alright, kid,” he sighed, “what do you want me to do with it? ‘Cause i’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry it.”

You rolled your eyes and looked him over.

“How about you wrap it in your jacket, like cushioning?”

“Fine.”

He reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, keeping the vial in the pocket but folding the jacket into a ball. You hastily replaced everything in the cabinet, safe included, and you followed Logan as he opened the door to step out - only to be met with another guest, her fist raised to knock.

“Oh! Dear,” she chuckled, clearly a little startled. She looked to the both of you, a grin appearing on her face, “Young love, what a gift. Don’t worry, I didn't see a thing!”

You shot her a confused look, chuckling nervously before you happened to catch a glance of your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Your hair was mussed and your blouse was untucked on one side from having to bend up and down. Logan had taken off his suit jacket and you realized what it was she was implying.

“Oh, oh - we weren’t -”

“It’s alright, honey,” she responded as you stepped out, “like I said - my lips are sealed.”

She shot you both a wink, went into the bathroom and shut the door.

“She thought we were fucking in there,” you mumbled, eyes wide in embarrassment.

“Is that so bad?”

You snapped your head towards him, a confused look on your face, “what?”

Logan shrugged, “we're supposed to be husband and wife, aren't we?”

You shook your head in disbelief and decided to ignore him, both of you joining the other guests back in the living room. Dinner was finally ready and everyone took their seats in the dining room. There were a couple of things on the table you couldn’t even pronounce.

“Is that…meat? A vegetable?” you leaned over to logan, whispering behind your hand and nodding towards one of the dishes.

“Hell if I know,” he muttered, “I don’t think I wanna find out.”

You both piled on the few things onto your plates, poking at it with your forks.

“Do you wanna get a pizza after this?” you whispered.

“Definitely,” he replied, pushing around an unrecognizable sludge with his utensil.

“So, how long did you two say you’ve been together?” You both looked up, only to be met with the hostess’ stare. You had never mentioned how long you’d been ‘together’. Her smile was polite but her stare was piercing, as if she knew something she was not supposed to.

“About three years,” you replied, looking to him for back up.

“We got married a couple months in,” he added, grinning at you. Again, he had that look - like he wasn’t just pretending to be in love with you. 

“We were in this restaurant - this little place we go to all the time,” he kept talking, “and I just told her I thought she was beautiful, that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.”

“Really? I have to say,” she began, sipping from her glass,” for a young couple who got together so quickly, you two don’t seem very affectionate towards each other.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You shot Logan a panicked look, but he appeared unbothered.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue,” it’s this rule she’s got about PDA. I’d be all over her if I could.”

You hated the way your face became hot. You couldn’t tell if he was leaning into it to be convincing or flirting just to make you flustered. You heard a muffled snicker from somewhere across the table and your eyes shifted to the source - it was the woman from earlier, the one who’d thought you and Logan were getting busy in the bathroom. 

“Can I at least get a kiss, babe?” Logan cooed, a smug look on his face.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“Being a husband,” he replied in a hush voice. 

It all happened within seconds. His hands cupped your face, warm and soft, and he leaned in to plant a kiss right on your lips. It was gentle and you melted into his touch, kissing him back. When he pulled away, you were still stunned, your lips parted in surprise. 

Logan kissed you.

His lips tasted like the remnants of cigar smoke. His touch was nearly intoxicating, like you were drunk off just the way he held you. You inhaled sharply and finally turned your face out of his grip, eyes glued to the table cloth. You had almost forgotten where you were - feeling like the room was spinning - and you let out a nervous laugh.

The topic of discussion moved on quickly and it seemed like any suspicion the hostess had about either of you had dissipated. You and Logan decided to say your goodbyes immediately after dinner, making some excuse about having to wake up early the next morning. When you stepped out and he shut the door behind him, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.

“What the hell was that?” you spat, eyebrows knitted. 

“What was what?”

He was completely nonchalant as he continued to walk next to you towards his truck. 

“You kissed me.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He stopped with you at the passenger side of the truck, standing in front of the door so you couldn’t get in.

“What if I wanted to?”

You swallowed hard. It was dead silent outside, save for the chirping of crickets.

“What?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted, chewing his bottom lip, “I wanted to kiss you.”

You didn't know what to say. He hated you, didn’t he?

“Logan, I - “

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in there, pretending to be together.”

His voice almost sounded strained, like he was pleading.

“You don’t even like me, you hate me,” you deflected, but he shook his head.

“That’s not true. I never hated you. I figured you’d hate me after I acted like an asshole when we met, so I went with it. I don’t hate you. I think you’re funny, I think you’re pretty - I just never really knew how to tell you that.”

When you only stared in response, he moved aside and opened your door with a defeated sigh. You were still speechless but you hesitantly slid into the seat anyway, letting him close the door. When he got into the driver's side and started the ignition, you couldn’t stop looking over at him.

“So, you like me,” you finally said aloud.

He kept his eyes glued to the road when he responded in a low voice, “why do you think I bother you so much?”

“You pick on me because you like me? Like a little kid?” you couldn’t help the amusement in your voice as your confused expression turned to a smile.

You saw him bite back a smile that mirrored yours, shaking his head.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Well, you’re not too bad, you know, and I guess you’re kind of handsome.”

“Oh, really?” 

“Mhm, but don’t make me take it back.”

The rest of the short ride home was spent in comfortable silence, both of you seemingly trying to figure out where you’d go from there. When Logan parked his truck and got out, he came around your side to open your door. You hopped out and he shut the door for you, but grabbed your hand before you started to walk away.

“Hey, c’mere for a second.”

You let him pull you a little closer, intertwining both your hands. The evening air was chilly and you could see his breath in the air when he spoke.

“Can I kiss you, for real this time?”

You could feel your heart beating fast and you nodded eagerly. The second you did, his lips were already on yours. His hands let go of yours to settle in your hair, threading the strands between his fingers. His touch felt warm in comparison to the cold air and you leaned further into him with your hands gripping his jacket to pull him close. When he pulled away, he rested his hands on your waist and planted another kiss on your forehead. 

“Maybe we could, uh, try again,” he cleared his throat, running his hands up and down your sides, “be nice to each other this time.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t hate Logan, even though you tried. 

You couldn’t hate his perfect hair.

You couldn’t hate his sweet voice.

You couldn’t hate his kind smile.

You couldn’t hate the way he dressed.

You just couldn’t hate Logan Howlett. 

So, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips and letting him hold you as close as possible, almost lifting you off the ground with his arms around you.

“We should probably go inside, huh?” you mumbled when you leaned back, lightly scratching the mutton chops on the side of his face in an affectionate manner. Those were another thing you’d pretended to hate - probably because you were embarrassed to admit you thought he pulled them off well.

“As you wish, Mrs. Smith.”

He held his hand out for you to take and you did, eyeing the ring on your finger.

“You know,” you held up your hand to show him the jewelry, “I think i’ll keep this.”

He grinned, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss, “I think i'll keep mine, too.”

You were both still holding hands when you went inside, blushing like two little kids. You were so engrossed in one another that you didn’t notice Jean and Ororo in the hallway ahead of you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Now that he knew he could actually do it, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll take it your night went well,” Ororo giggled, Jean doing the same. You jumped a little in surprise, covering your pink face in mild embarrassment. 

“What changed? I thought you hated each other,” the latter of the two asked.

“Eh, he’s not so bad,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders.

‘’Turns out, we make a pretty good fake husband and wife,” he explained, “I guess we got a little too carried away with it.”

As the two of you walked hand in hand further down the hall, Ororo elbowed Jean lightly, leaning over to whisper behind her hand.

“You owe me twenty bucks.”

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you sm for reading!! I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this as is or add smut so I'll leave it how it is and if enough people ask for it, I can make a part two <3 pls reblog and like if you enjoyed/want more and my inbox is always open :)

Edit: here is the link to part 2!

[grahstumhurts]

The stars aligned for us

Synopsis- Y/n had always had a crush on Sophia. this being Y/n's senior year, she had to make it count. Sophia, a untouchable goddess, in Y/ns eyes. Will it happen?

A/N - YES I KNOW ITS A CHEESY TITLE AND FIC, ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR TUMBLR OKAY. SUE ME IF I WANTED SOME CHEESY ROMANTIC SOPHIA CONTENT. This was not proof read so yeah

 Lara always complains about how I stare at her in the halls when she passes by with her flock. “Dude, its honestly sad how much time you spend a day staring at her and or thinking about her, when in all brutal truth, she probably doesn't give you a single thought.” Lara sighs, rubbing her forehead in frustration as she watches me get out my books for my AP biology class. “Its not that bad, okay. Trust me i've been worse.” I try defending myself, “Listen, Y/N At this point you might as well confess since it's almost the end of the year. Whats the worst that could happen? You get embarrassed, yes, But you won't ever see her again until the highschool reunion.” Lara tries to convince me for the Nth time this year. Senior year was supposed to be the year where I let loose. By the time senior spring had come and college applications were through, there had been one thing I had yet to do. I’ve known her for years. I mean everyone knows her at our school. She's everyone's dream girl, Untouchable you could say. Sophia Laforteza. I sigh, almost giving in this time, “No, I won't do it. Like i've said multiple times, she's an untouchable painting that, Good lord, I want to touch so bad” I close my locker, leaning against it, facing towards Lara. She gives me an unimpressed look. “You have AP Bio with her next right? So why not ask her to study sometime? I mean you are basically failing that class,girl.” I pause, I consider it, My brain algorithm approves. The bell rings for the next period. “why are you actually kinda smart, Lara.” I walk past her “Hey, woah what do you mean kinda, I legit just gave you the best idea ever” she yells at my passing figure as i jog off to mr bennetts classroom. “For the sake of my mental health I pray to Beyonce that this works.” Lara mumbles under her breath as she walks off to her class. 

Now you would think that the universe would be on my side. And you would be right. The stars have aligned as Lara would say, God forbid that girl ever not talk about stars and astrology the moment the conversation dies down. “Alright class, today i'm announcing your semester-long project for this class. This project will be starting today and will be ending by the end of the semester, so right around April we will present. Now this is a partner project” The class groans in disbelief, “Settle down. Now, I will be picking the partners-” The class erupts in boisterous anger at Mr bennett. “Calm down, Jesus, I'm retiring after this year. This project is going to be about whatever you want it to be. as long as it relates to biology.” He opens his laptop. “Now the partners will be…” he pauses reading the screen “Chloe and Marquise, Nickolas and Wendy, Y/N and Sophia” I note down these partnerships in my head just for reference, Wait. Are you fucking kidding me, its me and sophia? Now in hindsight you would think that maybe this is a class prank on me. I swear to fucking god i was about ready to explode, yean no not that kind of explode, the one where im the most anxious person on the god damn planet that we call fucking earth. Out of the 24 students in this class, other than me, there is a one in fucking 24 chance that i would be placed with her. Which i find is fucking ridiculous. “And thats it for partners, now if you could start planning your projects that would be great” Everyone shuffles around the room, trying to find their partner. I scramble to pick up my things when I drop my pencil case. I notice a manicured hand pick it up, i connect the hand to the arm, the arm to the body. Like the gorgeous goddess she is, she hands me my pencil case, Stupid fucking fish pencil case. “I like your pencil case, its pretty creative and unique” She comments, placing the fish on the table “thanks, my grandma got it for me so i've just been using it ever since.” I laugh uncomfortably. “What do you wanna do the project on?” I meekly ask her, I avoid all eye contact possible. She ponders for a moment, “I've always been kinda interested in how the weather contributes to moods, would that be something your okay with doing?”  “imokaywithdoingwhateveryouwant” I spit out, at possibly the pace of a marathon runner. She laughs to herself at my reaction “you're cute.” She mumbles. “Are you free this week to start the project or…” She drags off the end of the word to insinuate for me to answer, “i'm good for this week, maybe tomorrow? After school” “We can go over to your house? My siblings can be quite loud so i dont think that’ll be the best “study spot”” She physically puts those two words in quotations. Which wakes me up to the reality that i will be spending the rest of the semester with her, creating a project. “Sure, Im down.” I say a little too excited, I clear my throat. “Cool, cant wait” she says casually as she walks off to her desk to pack up. 

The first week went surprisingly well. I actually kept my cool and had a normal conversation with her. As the weeks grow, my feelings never really cut off for her. Instead, like a tumour, it grows. And so does my guilt. The project builds up a good amount of research, by the time its almost the end of the semester, March to be exact. The guilt, it flourishes inside me like a mouldy banana in the bottom of your bag. For all I know she could be straight. 

I hear the doorbell ring, I know its her. My mom answers the door, as per usual. lets her in, then she comes up the stairs and up to my room where the door is already open for her to come in. “Hey” she greets me “almost the end huh? I bought some snacks on the way here, I remember last week you mentioned sour skittles to me so I figured I could try them with you.” “you remembered?” “Yeah, why wouldn't i? We are friends right? I mean with all the time we have spent on this project, i assumed we are friends” she looks confused, almost hurt? “Are we not friends” “we are, yeah” I flusteredly responded, panicking at the seemingly wounded look. She cracks a smile “i'm just messing with you,” she knocks my shoulder against hers as she sits down on my bed. “I think there's a storm coming soon actually” she says opening the shopping bag with the seemingly endless amount of snacks in it. “Kinda ironic don't you think?” I say to her, We get to work for the next couple of hours, sprinkling in some goofy moments between the two of us. She ends up having to stay over, The storm inhibiting her ability to go home. I look out the window, the rain looks as if it will never end. “You ever danced in the rain?” She sits next to me, resting her head on my shoulder, observing the perspiration. “I did it once with an ex boyfriend of mine,” she adds to her previous comment. For some reason that last bit stung a little, like a scratch from a cat. “You had a boyfriend?” I ask genuinely curious. “I ended things with him since I figured out that i liked girls” “oh, i didnt know you liked girls.” I looked at her, Her hazel eyes looking back. “Do you like girls?” she questioned me. “Yeah, always have” I answered meekly. An idea came to me when she looked back out the window, I stood up. “Lets go out into the rain” I drag her closely behind me as we walk out the front door to my house, running out into the wet sky. I laugh at her standing confused in the doorway. “Dude come on” I actively try to convince her “you were the one that started talking about dancing in the rain” I open my mouth and let the almost salty droplets hit my tongue. “Eugh, dude, dont you know how disgusting rain water is” She runs out into the rain, fully embracing the uncomfortable wetness covering her body. I curtsy to her “Mi’ Lady would you care for a dance?” I say in a faux british accent. She giggles “Of course Mi’ Lady, a dance would be appreciated.” I bring her in, her waist in one hand and her own hand in the other. “Is this okay?” I yell over the sound of the water droplets hitting the ground. She nods, resting her head on my shoulder as we sway in the middle of the driveway. She looks up at me, searching my face for something. Looking down at my lips, then my eyes, then back at my lips again. “What?” I asked her “do i have something on my face?” She cups my cheeks, her warm thumb stroking my cheekbones. Before I can say another thing, she leans in, and kisses me. The Ivy that is guilt covering my heart slowly withers away, her hands leave my cheeks and caress the hair on the back of my neck. I pull her in closer, wrapping my arms around her body. A lightning crack makes us pull apart. “You seriously dont know how long ive been dreaming of this happening” I tuck my face into her soaking collar, she kisses my forehead. “How long?” she giggles, “1st grade, When i first moved here. And it trailed all the way here.” “damn i wasn't expecting that.” I blush. “Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” I call out over the rain. “Of course dumbass” She leans back in, coating my whole body in a warm honey feeling, The stars aligned for us to be.

[holdinbacksecrets]

uninhibited (and drunk) voicemails from seventeen

forever sending gratitude and love to j @un-love for helping assign these

seungcheol: “i watched you tonight with another man. he held your hand and kissed your forehead. he drank your tea first to check the temperature. he made you laugh. for real. i know because you covered your mouth, still feeling insecure about how far it opens when the reaction can’t be avoided—when the something said was so funny it surprised you. you’re wearing red. your arms were exposed for a while, and i felt my eyes prick with tears at the sight of more tattoos on your skin. ones i didn’t know about. maybe ones you mentioned when they were still just possibilities in your head. not once did i think i wouldn’t see them actualized. not once did i imagine another man’s fingers brushing the ink through the motion of draping his jacket around your shoulders.”

jeonghan: “i’m at home and alone, and it’s wrong to call you. it’s so unfair to call you. i didn’t know how to tell you that the wanting is scary. that the way we love each other is impossible—not for a second do i believe it’s possible to have again, and i’m fucking afraid, probably because i know how much you’ve grown. the thought of letting you down leaves a sour taste, and i’m trying not to be so fucking afraid.”

joshua: “i’m sobering up now, sitting on my mom’s back porch. earlier, i was trying to describe the color of your hair. the best i could come up with was blue frosting like the cupcakes she made for my 10th birthday party. isn’t that outrageous? embarrassing? in my head was a poem, but the alcohol released the silliest set of words i could’ve possibly used to describe a part of you.”

jun: “everything is weird. everyone is strange to me today except for you. i’m drunk. i lost my shoes at some point in the night i think. i can’t recognize anyone around me. their voices don’t sound familiar. i wish you were here. i wish you’d tell me this is miserable for you too; it’s not worth it anymore. would you tell me the truth if i asked? sorry. what a stupid question. i don’t know anyone more honest.”

soonyoung: “i should’ve watched you all day more often. i dream about that. i wanted to, but something always had my attention or interrupted its focus on you. i’m laying here with my eyes closed, imagining all the moments i did watch and wondering if every single one pieced together could consume an entire day.”

wonwoo: “is it ok that i still have your spare key? i’d like to believe it’s something you’d ask to get back, but i wonder if that call isn’t worth making. if the idea of seeing me makes you anxious. but you trust me. out of everyone to still have access to your home, it’s ok that it’s me. i feel sad thinking about it.”

jihoon: “you baked cookies. i froze half of them. there’s one left, and i’m debating whether or not to eat it today. it’s freezing outside, and any view through my window is ruined by the snow. it feels like the perfect night for a cookie with what’s left of my second americano like i can risk losing sleep, but what will be left from you if i give in? everything else feels lifeless—it’s been so long since you’ve touch the clothes and read the books.”

seokmin: “i’m going to a wedding tomorrow. your old neighbor is getting married, and i thought about so many things when he sent me the invitation. i thought he was in love with you for the longest time. remember that? it took me months to admit. then he told me he’s just protective, and i realized there are so many people who see us and care without us ever knowing. so i wondered about a what if between us… what if our paths crossing was shallow and they never intertwined? what if you were just a woman in the grocery store who i’d see once in a while if the timing was right? how long would i think about you before forgetting your face, before forgetting i ever saw you? unless i never would and end up talking about you in my old age to adult children who only know i loved their mother.”

mingyu: “is it ok to call you in the middle of the night? you told me i could. years have passed since that conversation. *laughs* is it strange to think about us back then? how we started on a park bench, basically dated for two years on a park bench. i still think about how your approach to reach me gave away your feelings. you started poised, avoiding eye contact. then it became goofy looks and confident strides before calling my name and skipping to singing the song stuck in your head while you ran to me. i can’t help but wonder what would it look like now?”

minghao: “if you listen to this voicemail, can you tell me what you want? whatever comes to mind after hearing the question. from something small to something weird and the the thing you believe is better left unsaid as if i’d judge the answer, but i won’t. i have no reason to judge you. all i have is curiosity and love and hope for your every day, every want, every touch, every song you sing, every picture you hang, and every night spent barefoot on the balcony- i want to marry you.”

seungkwan: “there’s something on my mind. i’ve wanted to tell you all day. i thought about it at breakfast and started texting you before my manager called and interrupted. so here it is: i used to not understand how tired you’d be with me around. i thought i was boring you for the longest time until i visited my sisters. they exchanged a knowing smile before telling me you’re completely comfortable, that you feel safe enough to slip into the kind of vulnerability that only sleepiness and sleep allow, with your guard lowered, and your heart open. i appreciate how much of you i’ve seen, how deeply i know you—knew you… know you? hmm…”

hansol: “are you traveling? i hope you’re traveling. i know it’s something you promised to do at the start of your 26th year. where did you go? … are you taking lots of pictures? … how does the moon look? that’s your souvenir: the moon in the sky a thousand miles away from home. when you told me the moon thing, i realized i knew nothing about you, and i wanted to know everything.”

chan: “you were in the audience tonight? i didn’t… i wasn’t… thank you for coming. i mailed a ticket, but it was returned to sender. *clears throat* you’re the only person i couldn’t shake wanting to be there. do you know what i mean? people from our pasts we wish could still be present, especially for things they witnessed in early stages. i could shake off all the other absences… old friends, a mentor, but you… *sigh* no way.”

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

WHOOO I MADE IT

UM could i perchance ask for toby + jeff (separately) with a pyromaniac S/O ?? /nf

-bones anon

Summary: Ticci Toby and Jeff The Killer with a pyromaniac partner

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Fire, arson, setting fire to stuff, danger in regards to fire, pyromaniac things

Credits: Ticci Toby- Creepypasta, Jeff The Killer- Creepypasta, Divider- antialenia

A/n: YAHHH BONES ANON!!! Yall bones anon was one of my first ever named anons, I think they were literally 2nd or 3rd!! kudos to them for sticking with me for so long 🥹

Ticci Toby

Toby has a weird relationship with fire

Due to accidentally getting caught up in the fire he lit all those years ago, he does hold a certain animosity to it

He gets anxious around open flames, especially if no one seems to be watching over them

Even stuff like candles, he will make sure that his eyes are always on the flame

But then he also has a draw to fire???

He's like a moth to a flame (haha) with fire

He loves to look at it, watch it flicker and dance

He loves the warmth of it too, just the idea of curling up at a campfire with a cozy blanket and just watching the fire is enough to almost lull him to sleep

So depending on the day, your love for setting fires can get a drastically different reaction out of him

But most of the time, as long as its in a safe and contained area and he can keep his eyes on it, he will love it and actually encourage your urges

But if it's just like, a random area

Say its a garbage can you wanna set on fire

He will probably panic a little bit when seeing that there was a fire he didn't account for

Obviously he knows you aren't stupid, and that you will keep your fires contained

But yk, he worries

9 times out of 10 though, if there is a fire to be had, the other manor residents know you and Toby are glued to the hip watching it

Jeff The Killer

Boy oh boy

Where to start with Jeff

He's not too crazy about fire, he personally likes to get the job done with his hands

That's why he always carries a knife with very little else

But you know he's gotta spoil his partner

Will probably get you a flame thrower for your birthday just to see you happy

And for every other birthday after that he will get you an accessory of some sort for your flamethrower

Jeff likes to smoke, but he knows good and well all of his lighters are with you

You'll sweetly put your hand into his back pocket and give him a kiss, before pulling away with his newest lighter in hand

He knows when you steal them, but god does he love to see that sweet smile you give him

So he keeps buying them so you can keep stealing them

As for his trauma related to fire, it honestly depends on his mental state at the time

He doesn't mind it most of the time, but if he is in a more iffy state, he will inch away from it

He doesn't like fire getting to close to him, which is why he usually vapes more than he does use actual cigs

But generally if the fire is just happening somewhere he won't mind

So yk, don't light him on fire and he's chill LMAO

[urautismdiagnosis]

Peso

Peso my lil Habibi <3 <3 <3

hes just a top tier character

my Hispanic coded son, mylil guy who's learning how to believe in himself

i just I lovepeso guys he's so pure and supportive and caring and lighthearted and silly and he's really doing his best??

he could probably cure my mentally illness with a bandage I'm sure

imgonna be so real I think he has game tho, like I'm 300% he could pull any maiden

he can become friends with like any sea creature too probably

hes my hero and my son and I think he low-key judges everyone internally

cuz like idk if y'all have met people who refuse to swear out loud verbally and hate confrontation, but the internal dialogue omg

i just know one of these days if he gets pushed too far hes gonna threaten someone with his slappity flippers

like y'all know the look birds do where they just sideye you??

that glance???

i think he does that whenever people do things that are stupid

like he loves them all dearly but shellington why would you touch The THing That Will Hurt you, no shellington you cant eat that for science-

Also I think he and dashi would listen to music together i think they might spend evenings relaxing together. I mean their rooms are right next to eachother so like I'm sure they've had some lovely little evening conversations and stuff 🥰 i can just imagine dashi tryna teach peso yoga and like 😩🙏his penguin body wasn't built for it but he still slays

Hes like the little sibling but in the actually I am the most mature way???

I think its cuz he looks up to alot of the other members (altho he's definitely gotten alot more confident as the show has progressed) but he also like..

He gives me the vibes of the oldest sibling of not just the siblings but of all the cousins??? This might just be me projecting but like why did u even become a medic for such a wide range of medical creatures and sign up to join the newly formed highly experimental water nasa???

I think he probably had alot of high expectations on himself because everyone just always believed he could do anything. And that sounds super supportive in theory but when ur like tryna be the oldest and first one to support ur family and everyone is always looking at u because like.. most other people in ur family are younger or ehatever.. that pressure and extra attention can cause alot of perfectionism and high self standards

That mixed with being The Caretaker in your family especially as a child is a pretty good recipe for getting anxious about any big goal in your life and how others perceive you. I think he tried to like humble himself by saying oh no I'm not really capable of all those amazing things so pls don't have those huge expectations hahaha but then it just turned into not believing in himself as much???

Also we slay genuinely caring and kind people having alot of pent up frustration they never show because they love everyone too much. It still hurts inside tho.

Anyways uhhhhhhhhhhh this totally ain't me projectin or anythin.

also hes like a mixed kid, but he's mostly gentoo penguin id say based on my own design

speaking of penguins I think that their homes would be actually made of stone lol. Their homes would have like different smaller homes for privacy around like communal areas.. they still gotta deal with predstors like albatross or ehstever tho. But their albatross for example might work in groups or even be larger.

Friendly reminder my lore for the octonauts is a bit different than the Canon. Sure People People being like hunted is wayyyy less common than irl but They're basically still playing their evolutionary roles kinda like how we see with sea otters in the show.

I'm gonna make the post for their social norms and etc on this within the next few days actually lol but back to peso

Do u guys ever think peso wouldve jumpscared the crew by being like "oh no the shelf is too tall!" And then busting out the "hey did you know that penguin legs are just folded and much horrifically longer than ud think they are?" On them 😩🙏

"Wh- why would ye show me this??"

" because no one will ever believe you"

Hes very sweet but I think he deserves to be a little bit of a sneaky sht

If uve made it this far thanks for reading the brainrot I hope it was comprehensible pls lmk ur headcanons about him cuz I need more ngl

[tbmkit]

A Deep Dive on "The End" of Las Nevadas

to start things off, this is my own interpretation of his dialogue. i explained how i feel about the stream here in this post. going off of that, i am going to break down the way quackity (who, for clarification sake i'll just refer to as alex) interpreted him. this is gonna get into random theories and probably get like, a little personal and im going to sound crazy but im also autistic and super invested with a bunch of free time... but i think the whole way this stream was carried out had a double meaning to it, and i will examine it here. not proofread, we 're going in raw. so, let's begin with...

Section 1: The Different Personalities of the Quackities

for starters, i want to examine the personalities of each character. obviously, im not taking much (aside from a few bits) into account from the other streams. this was all carefully crafted in one stream to get each persona down, rather than on-the-fly acting. each one has a sort of "archetype" to dissect.

q!quackity, who is quiet, reserved, skittish - yet smart and observant. he uses longer words, and spends more time observing the conversations, then jumping in for the "kill"

k!quackity, who is battered from the betrayal hes gone through, he feels hurt yet he doesnt feel anger. its internalized, he doesnt trust the others, however he mentions that they need to build trust to get out of the "cube"

ln!quackity, who is extroverted, boisterous, the physical incarnate of a bruised ego. he holds his head high not realizing his neck is always exposed, ready for someone to rip him to shreds if they hit the right vein. he's an asshole, making fun of the others, holds himself proudly on his achievements. but he's the only one that cries. q!quackity is anxious, but he doesn't cry. ln!quackity does.

and... alex. a self-proclaimed introvert, who is kind and observant, who forces himself to get out of his comfort zone, something he called a "finish line." a writer, a director, someone who loves telling stories. and this one, happens to be a story of different personas of his, with one being killed off.

and with that, we get into the topic of what i believe the stream represents. if you'll join me for a long read, i think this stream represents his growth as a person and a content creator, in a very extreme and especially vulnerable way.

Section 2: Pre-Quackities Dialogue

an interesting point about ln!quackity is that his dialogue is very turbulent. he goes from being confident to anxious and scared in a moment's notice.

from...

Slime! Was this you? Did you do this? I didn't mean to do this- the the.. I wasn't… malfunction! An explosive went off! I don't know where I am! I might've done some [stupid] stuff, but it's not- it's not fair to pin it on me. You saw it- you saw it- you saw what everyone did to me…

at first, he's very confused. a topic he brings up later is how he always wins, or rather how the house always wins. he succeeded in killing himself, thus the surprise. he didn't really mean to succeed, he thought he'd fail just like all the other times. that's what he's used to.

then...

I don't know who you are, and you certainly don't know who I am either. […] If you have any answers for me, just let me know, please. Alright fine- whoever put me here, get me out! Or just kill me! That was the point of what I was trying to do!

his ego pops in - "you certainly don't know who i am either" weighing his importance. he can't die, he's just so vital for his country. his carefully crafted country. but he can't stand not knowing what actually happened - did he finally succeed? for once in his entire life? no, surely not. he wants to get out - he didn't really mean to kill himself. just one more chance, he wants. but if he can't have one more chance, he just wants it to be over. either keep fighting and fighting or finally give up, even if you just succeeded for the first time in your life.

finally to...

We can make a deal, alright? Let's do a little bit of gambling, let's make a deal! […] You let me out of here, I… do you want me to do good deeds? I'll do good deeds! […] I'll do it, just let me go… just give me a sign…

"ha! gambling, casinos, money! that's my personality! you guys know me, mr. casino man! ring any bells yet?? you guys know that's what i'm all about!" he cries. that's where his power is held - material possessions, easy wins, his comfort zone. something he can easily control. he tries to paint himself as a "better" version of himself by offering his material possessions, anything to save his ass. something he can live without, something he's comfortable losing because he'll just gain it back double in the end.

Section 3: Pre-Monologue

the first thing ln!quackity says to k!quackity - apart from being taken aback by being called a gringo - is

A foreigner?! Where are you from?

now this might come off as one of the farther reaches in this post, but i feel like this was mean to represent ("this" as in, the way ln!quackity treats k!quackity as a whole) the switch to spanish content that alex did. i feel like ln!quackity is very offput by k!quackity because it was a hard switch for alex to make, given how people in the public - and in private - treated this switch. throughout the stream, ln!quackity treats k!quackity with ambivalence - not with hatred or disgust, but also with an underlying fearful tone - as he does not understand him when he speaks spanish. however, ln!quackity does speak spanish. he spoke spanish all the time. hell, the casino is called el palacio (which you can see on the signs inside), we got el rapids, mexican l'manburg, flirting with schlatt... this is just a front. he just doesn't want to communicate, even acknowledge him speaking to him. his ego gets in the way, not wanting to acknowledge this. q!quackity does not speak spanish, this was clear given the lore of qsmp with elquackity. however, ln!quackity is known as bilingual. so why would he try to hide that part of him? you tell me.

You see? I was also betrayed! And actually I was the one doing the torturing, but I have the better story here.

"hah look at me im so badass! who gives a fuck if you went through so much shit! i also did that shit but to someone else! that also kinda happened to me but who cares!" says the deeply traumatized individual who perpetuates a cycle of abuse.

Tone it fucking down. You don't know who you're speaking to.

he says this directly after being called out by the other two. he, again, deems himself as more important. he's the badass one, he's the one that is more "successful," he gets all the fame and credit. thus, when someone tries to tell him that he's full of shit, he immediately puts up his defenses - the ones he's been crafting for all his life, through the endless amount of trauma he's gone through. did he ever back down? show emotions? no, he hasn't. he's always just been a powerhouse. even when his friends and partners betrayed him, he used that to fuel his drive, not knock him down.

I win. That's my job. My job is to make people think they win. I'm a multimillionaire because I run an extremely successful casino business. I also am the president of the richest country in my world. But you know, the more success, the more people want to kill you. And if I'm here right now it's because they succeeded - although I do think the people responsible might be dead soon as well, because if I truly am dead, then they fucked up. So yeah I'm not worried about it at all. Just a bunch of cowards that stormed my casino, probably shot me, they'll get caught.

here he goes again, flaunting his achievements. whenever someone tries to wiggle through the cracks of his ego, he spits out the same recycled speech about his achievements. everyone wants him, everyone wants what he has. but does he truly want it all? is it to make up for what he had lost, or maybe it's to hide his emotions or his insecurities? will they all be drowned out by material possessions? "the more success, the more people want to kill you," so, himself, since that's who killed him in the end? with how much he's been gaining, does that mean that his will to live dwindled too as he got everything he ever wanted? but of course, this is all one big lie to cover up the fact that he was the one with a bounty on his own head.

Q!Quackity: If you are as successful as you say you are, I would imagine that you would already be on edge for someone trying to kill you. […] so how exactly did you inflict your own death?

bonus! with the context above, i feel like q!quackity picked up on his suicidal tendencies, and is thus asking, "hey, since you have it all and i kiiinda feel like we all killed ourselves here, and you said the more successful you are the more people wanna kill you, doesn't that mean you wanna kill yourself?"

Section 4: The Monologue

Fine. You wanna know how I got here? I fucking destroyed it all, I fucking did it. I fucking did it. I sat on my fucking throne and I lit it all on fire and it was fucking beautiful. You know why? Because you can't trust nobody. You can't fucking trust nobody. Alright… alright… I come from a world where you can't trust nobody. Your neighbour will backstab you for a piece of bread if he has to. There are no friends where I came from, okay? And people will sell you out in a fucking second. I tried it all, I tried politics, I tried businesses, and I never won. You know what made all those fail? You know what made every fucking attempt of mine fail? Trust! You can't trust people! They will kill you! So if I can't win, I did what I had to do.

the first half of the monologue is all about being betrayed. "how did i get here? / i destroyed it all / it was beautiful" for someone who prides himself in his material possessions, this doesn't feel like he'd be happy about getting rid of it all. his entire country, what he loved. las nevadas is his comfort zone. that's why he was confined to it, he never left, nobody entered, truly. sure he had some of his friends, but they betrayed him in the end. he ended up hurting them and they left, or they hurt him regardless.

this is where alex comes into play. this monologue was intentional, this was raw and vulnerable. it represents ln!quackity, yes. but, underlying is alex throughout it all. it's not a hidden fact that he's had a lot of people that ended up betraying him, and others in his life as well. so many people took advantage of his trust and kindness. they wanted to commodify him, use his fame, get a bit of clout, get his money, all for themselves. ln!quackity didn't want to be on top of the world, he rose so high up that from below everything looks so small and lost sight of where he was. this represents the ego. it's so easy for your ego to get ahold of you, but when you're so high up, you get knocked down, all the way to your death...

I fabricated my wins, I created my own country, I built my circumstances. Me! Nobody else! Because nobody else thinks like I do! Nobody can! So there comes a point where it's over, at some point you fucking lose.

the aforementioned fall. las nevadas was his comfort - the only place where nothing could go wrong. everything went his way, and only his. the house always wins, it's his comfort zone. he crafted it himself. "nobody else thinks like i do / nobody can" represents his internal struggle. his insecurities that he had to build four walls and a roof over, hidden away from sight in a city of different buildings. he thinks hes the only one that feels this way, he doesnt think anyone can feel the amount of pain he does. life is a chore for ln!quackity, he chugs through it and never once could he rest. but, he finally got to. and now that he has it all... what else is there left? his insecurities and shame that he trapped himself in with all this time. he's forced to sit with them, ponder, grow attached to them yet still hide them from everyone. nobody can know how he feels, nobody can know what he thinks. he never opened up, he never got in touch with his emotions and thus

My partner, my great business partner… I built him, piece by piece, I gave him the personality that I wanted! He learned from me, he is who he is because of me! Yet he has the audacity to abandon me? To abandon what I built? To defy me? He called me a bad person and guess what? I am a bad person. And I'll fucking own it til the day I die. Everything gets destroyed, I'm not gonna wait for a fucking traitor to put me in my grave, that's my JOB. So yeah, I inflicted it, I'm here because of me. I'm here because of me, nobody else. *starts crying*

this is where it gets tricky. my personal interpretation that fits with the theme is that slime represents alex. ln!quackity - or rather, his ego - molded slime into what he is - a copy of ln!quackity. a hollow imitation of the ego. ln!quackity made slime into precisely that. he was a blank slate, he had so much power over him, and thus he finally had someone who could think like him, without the pain that ln!quackity felt because slime felt none. not until ln!quackity hurt him - his own ego hurt alex, in this sense. the fame, his career had hurt him.

"to abandon what i built / to defy me" taking a step back to keep your ego in check, to finally realize what matters in life, is an act of defiance. to humble yourself, to realize you're nothing more than a person that feels hurt by his environment (calling back to: "I might've done some [stupid] stuff, but it's not- it's not fair to pin it on me. You saw it- you saw it- you saw what everyone did to me…" which he said when he was alone, begging for his life, for a second chance to go back to where he felt safest) it was such a strong revelation that it made ln!quackity cry. finally, he could cry.

ln!quackity, in his own eyes, is perfect. he's what everyone wants to be. money, fame, achievements... but the moment he realizes hes hurt he comes back down from his pedestal. he's not the badass everyone wants him to be, he's not the king of the land, he's scared and sensitive. he just wants to be loved, but every time he is, he gets hurt. so why love when you can hurt? that's why he's so rude and abrasive. because why love when hurting is easier? hurting is the norm, hurting is comfort. las nevadas is a nation that encapsulates nothing but pain.

Where do you guys think you are? What is this to you, just a little game? Just a little more entertainment? Look around us, look at this, look at this sick joke, we're puppets! They think it's real! None of this is! And maybe that's the game, we just need to play it! Who's it gonna be, huh? What am I meant to do? How do I win today's game? I'm not gonna give these bastards a show, I want out!

obligatory "who do you think we're actually talking about here?" fourth wall-breaking segment. you should be able to piece it together here. ln!quackity doesn't want to be part of the show anymore - q!quackity and k!quackity run it now.

Section 5: Post-Monologue and Closing Thoughts

Oh my god, oh my god… Okay… I'm alive- I'm alive… I'm alive, I'm alive… What am I doing? What am I doing? Okay… I need to… I need to leave, I need to get out of here, I need to walk out, I need to walk out…

wait, ln!quackity is alive? he's not hurt? he's... alive? hm. that must've all been in his head. a near death experience, some divine intervention... maybe he does get a second shot! "i need to get out of here..." he wants to get out of the comfort zone, but... letting the ego out, where he's going to suffer? let ln!quackity, the character built on legacy, suffer in a place where he has nothing? the outside? where he wouldn't even dare to-

Slime: Looks like everything is running well. Yeah. Everything's going pretty… pretty great. Slime: You look so tired. I uh… yeah, yeah I uh, I am. Slime: I came back to see you one last time. I didn't like how we had to end. Yeah, no uh… I thought about it, no hard feelings and you know what… you were right actually, this time you taught me some valuable lessons. Slime: After I left, I learned a lot. More than I ever thought there was to know. From more people that I ever thought there were. That sounds great. Slime: I came here to say goodbye, Quackity. It felt… important. Where are you going? Are you going somewhere? Slime: I want to go see it, Quackity. Everything belong this land. I don't think I belong here anymore. Wow, yeah. You deserve it, wow… look at you. Traveling the world, I'm excited for you. Slime: I've learned all I can from this place, Quackity. I'm very excited to go. And maybe even now, someone or something can learn from me. Wow, well yeah. Stay uhm, stay safe man. And remember, don't trust too many people. Slime: Quackity, thank you for teaching me what it's like to be human. Yeah… thanks. Slime: Goodbye, Quackity from Las Nevadas.

he realizes the pain is what makes people alive. you can reconcile with it, you can embrace it, you can live with it. slime was confined to las nevadas for so long that he learned how to live. why can't ln!quackity? what makes slime different? ln!quackity has been immersed in nothing but pain and suffering... and k!quackity too! q!quackity! they are all fine, they can do amazing things, but... they have nothing. they lost it all, but why was ln!quackity the one that's stuck? why did he finally crack?

it's because they love. and slime, well, he loves the world. he loves learning, teaching about life. he has a passion, he wants to experience life. he wants to be free. ln!quackity never wanted to be free. he wanted a place to call his own. with slime leaving... he has las nevadas all to himself. everything he ever wanted, all the money in the world, yet he's alone. he was never loved, only used. it's just a hollow tomb. it was built as an homage to people he loved, but they never loved him. nor did he love himself. all it stands to be is just a reminder that ln!quackity will never be loved.

"you look... so tired." "yeah... i uh- i am."

he doesn't have to keep fighting. he doesn't have to keep relishing in pain. he's happy that slime is traveling the world, thanks to him. he took bits and pieces of ln!quackity - not everything - but just enough to keep his chin high. he is his own person, using the lessons that ln!quackity taught him. slime is ln!quackity's legacy. after the conversation with his other two selves, and with slime in the real world, he realized that in order for him to be at peace, he doesn't have to keep on hurting. the pain that he shared with slime, as the lessons he taught him, inspired slime to be his own person. the pain that ln!quackity went through is what made slime realize that he, too, is human. relishing in pain and not using that to keep going makes you a victim to your own surroundings. the pain becomes comfort, and you can never leave. it's nothing more than a tomb.

and thus, the final lines said are:

"quackity, thank you for teaching me what it's like to be human." "yeah... thanks"

slime taught him how to be human as well. and to be human is to not let pain consume you and to keep forward. make amends with it, keep it in your back pocket. those are memories, it's part of your legacy. but what the other quackities could do that ln!quackity couldn't, is remind themselves that they can be better.

q!quackity, though skittish in nature, is observant and uses his knowledge to get under ln!quackity's skin and finally make him snap and realize his emotions. q!quackity represents intellect, even if he is naïve at the same time.

k!quackity, just as smart as q!quackity, is a fighter. he is observant, but he doesn't use that as much to his advantage as he has strength to back him up. he is strong and he knows it, he can lead a revolution, he is strategical. less naïve than q!quackity, he's more cautious of the posing threat that ln!quackity is. q!quackity helps him as his first instinct, showing that the two work together in tandem naturally.

with both sides working together in harmony, where does ln!quackity come in? he represents arrogance, denial of his emotions, his bolstering ego... there is no room for that to grow as a person. he had to die. the room falls silent as he kills himself, no protests. and, q!quackity and k!quackity will make it out alive. they will be coming back. which shows that they do work together to get out. not by killing themselves, but allowing themselves the best parts of each other.

so, as a finale... what does this mean as a whole? i think, although alex really loves ln!quackity, i think this stream was meant to show his journey as a person. he has said he is very grateful for what he has and where he's gotten, and i think keeping yourself humble and counting your blessings is something that you have to grow into. when you're young, you do stupid mistakes. you're naïve, you trust too easily and people take advantage of that. at the end of the stream, ln!quackity says

"don't trust too many people"

as opposed to what he said earlier, talking about himself:

"you know what made all those fail? [...] trust! you can't trust people! they kill you!"

without letting people in, ln!quackity was his own demise. he never learned how to trust, how to love, and thus he could only die alone in the end. but, slime can. he will learn how to love, how to care for, and how to trust others. don't be naïve, but don't be alone, otherwise you will be your own demise in the end.

and thus, this stream was a way to show alex's journey as a person. he said that he was really counting his blessings and being thankful for everything in his life. he can't redo the past few years, but he can move forward with the lessons he learned. that's something he has been talking a lot about lately, and i think this was his own way of interpreting it through characters he loves so dearly. he had to kill off his pride to grow. moving on is the hardest part, and what's even harder is learning how to begin again after everything. but, at the end of the year and going into the next, he will face troubles. he will face challenges.

but he will grow and learn, as he is human, as we are human. we all feel pain, as well as love. we need to learn, we need to grow. and we cannot shy these away from each other - they need to balance each other out and work in unison, as they should.

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER day 1

pairing: siren! natasha x reader

summary: working on a boat sounds like a fun, but what if there is a cold weather?

word count: 3.6k

warnings: heavy manipulation!!!, mind control, toxic dynamic, humping a tail, dirty talk, just smut!, badly written description of what sailors do

an: so the time is here!!!! I’m exited and also anxious, aghh. I’d appreciate any of your feedback and don’t be scared to send me some thoughts! If there are any typos, i sincerely apologize, just let me know and I’ll fix it!

an2: there is a part that was inspired by hp and goblet of fire, i’ve changed most of it, but left some parts, since natasha is siren. felt like it was fitting. and it’s exactly how I imagine natasha’s style of singing.

(italics = your thoughts)

!MDNI!

Enjoy this spooky time and be safe!

Working on a coast was an incredible experience and for such a long time you were happy to have the oppurtunity to see new things, but most imporantily feel new things.

This spontanious work trip helped you with your mental health more than your therapist in years. You didn´t even mind working alone somedays, since your coworkers had some days shift off. You enjoyed those quiet days, where you didn´t even overthink, you just let your thoughts peacefully be and surprisingly they did the same thing to you.

Seeing things, the old things but with a different font was something you never get tired of. Everything was bigger and prettier. Colorfull sunrises and sunsets, bigger and shiny stars. But when the warm and fuzzy wind was changed by heavy rains and scary thunderstorms, you were really changing your opinion and wishing you were back in your comfy king sized bed, watching another stupid show on Netflix. Not everything was so colorful all the time.

Especially when the weather got cold and nothing was so warm and fuzzy as in the summer. When the first storm came you thought that you can hadle it, alone. You did, but barerly.

But from todays morning, you knew something big is coming and nothing could prepare you for that. You woke up and checked your phone, like you did every signle day and noticed you have one unread message, saying that your coworker, Tobias, can´t make it, because he got sea sick, from all the sailing he did this week. Which is little weird since you´re positive he´s been sailing the day he was born. But even the best of us can get sick sometimes. So youre all alone. You let out a big sigh. You werent mad, no. You were just little scared of the storm that might and most probably will come today.

When you finally got up and looked from the window you could feel that the wind was freezingly cold. Goosebumps begin to form on your arms and neck. The cold feeling seeps through your skin deeper, like a stealthy intruder, sending shivers down your spine. It's an icy touch that grips your body, making your muscles tense.

It´s gonna be a long day.

As always you packed your stuff, fuzzy socks, warm coat, another shirt just in case youll get wet. Lastly you took some snacks and a big amout of soup, hoping your heater wont let you down. And last but not least a lots of tea. As your boss always says "Tea and rum is better than a warm coat." Well you dont have the rum, but the tea will do, at least that´s what youre saying to yourself.

When you got to work, you checked all the papers from yesterday, made sure to know what your tasks will be today. And of course you had to check if the boat is in a good shape to sail the next day. It´s a lot of work, but at least you have a job to do. Not like a week ago, where you just sat and watch as the waves hit the rocks for 12 hours. You noticed that even waves have a simple patterns, its was so hypnotic to watch it hit the big rocks again and again and again.

You slowly checked all the papers to not miss anything important and undeerscore everything that you need to do today. You checked your watch and made a mental note to put the kettle on soon.

Youre working here for about a 5 months now and you still havent figured out your routine. Even though most of the times youre still doing the same job all over again, checking something, writing what needs to be fixed, checking the load, or just watching over the boat, you still do everything at the same time. So sometimes (read it as most of the times) you just forget to do the simple things as taking care of your basic needs. When you and Tobias have shift together, you two kinda take care of eachtoher, but when he´s not there it´s just so easy to forget about it.

But today you did quite good job, after checking the lower deck you came back up to unlock the kitchen and put the kettle on. When youre water was getting ready for your favorite and only tea you had here, you wrote some documentary about the first ship load you had to check. Everything was correct and you were happy that you didn´t have to unpack it and count it manually. Your first break of the day fly past very quickly as you finished your tea, that didnt make you feel warm at all. You put the cup in the sink and went on another round of checking the boat lower deck.

As you stood up something red caught your eye in the distance, you took a few steps closer to the window, hoping you would see better at what it is. It was weird seeing something so bright in the distance, where only the gray waves were moving. But to your disappointment, you didnt got the answer, it was probably some coral from the shore. You shake your head slightly and moved to another task.

When you came up you noticed that it was already dark outside, shockingly it was the same tempetrure as throghtout the day. Which was a positive thing.

How long have I been downstairs? What time is it? I didn´t have lunch... again.

As many thoughts at the same time speed through your mind, you heard something under the boat. You just closed your eyes, taking few deep breaths to calm your nerves. You put down the paperwork and the pen you were holding. Making your way to the kitchen, youve notice that you didn´t even drank much water. Cursing yourself, you drink a half of the bottle right away. The fresh water finally hitting your needs. Refreshing shockwave going through your body. Every cell awaken and all of your sences light up. Already feeling better, taking a moment to make soup and overall just refresh yourself. As you´re finishing your food, you hear it again.

Bang.

This time is was way louder, so you took all of your courage to go out and look what it was. Sometimes you were tought, or maybe you just act before you think things through. You were terrified of the dark and most importantly what´s in it, but this time something made you go out. You were surprised by yourself, but you didnt question it, much.

When you got out you checked the boat, slowly analyzing if something is wrong.

Was it an animal? A fallen brench into the water?

"Hello?" You immidietly cursed yourself. "Im an idiot." You mumble as you walk around. "There is no more pathetic and stupid way to die then just say hello to the dark." You mumble under your breath.

After a while walking around the boat a big strike apeared on the sky. And after few second of a complete silence there was a big thunder coming, that made you run back inside. There it was the big storm you were so terrified of. It was way worse than the last time and you were hoping to survive it.

That´s a little bit dramatic, but your heart was pounding fast, your hands started to shake and even in this cold you very still incredibly sweaty, like if you just ran a marathon in the desert. After few hours of tinkinkng you´ll die, the storm suddently stopped, leaving you all tired and scared at the same time. Until youve heard another sound, it wasnt another bang, it was more like a humming.

Maybe someone from the sailors is here? But they are all men. Maybe someones wife? Again, your thoughts are running milions miles per hour.

The humming sounds so warm, like the old days, back in summer, where everything was colorfull, fuzzy and it felt generally so good in your ears. You stood up and without second guessing you step outside. There was complete silence, not a single person outside, The sun slowly coming out, trying to fight those stromy clouds that were showing the only evidence of heavy storm.

As soon as your hand laid back on the door handle a beautfiul voice start to sing a melodic song. You didnt understand it, it was some language you never heard, but you liked it, your brain might not understand the words, but your body understood the melody. And suddenly you didn´t felt cold, it was the other way around actually. Your cheeks were on fire, like you were running a fever, but you didn´t feel bad, no, you actually felt the best you ever did.

When you turn around you saw her. Unbeiebly beaitiful, goddess looking woman. Her hair was red, not like an apple red, more like a bright fire that is keeping you warm at the coldest nights. Each strand seemed to catch the sunlight that was finally going up, setting her aglow with a vibrant, fiery aura. Her green eyes were pierced at you, she was looking at you, waiting for your move. But you just stood there and watched her, your breathing started to speed up. You tried to remeber evertything about her, but as soon as your eyes fell lower, you noticed how light her skin looked. It reminded you of a fresh marble that was just ready to be cast in. But what caught your off guard the most, was her tail. You´ve never seen aynthing like that and it was very obvious, because youre face made it very well known. It was mixed feeling between shocked and amazed. The siren's tail was a fluid masterpiece, a shimmering blend of oceanic blues and greens. With each sinuous movement, it created a mesmerizing scene.

"Hey sailor." she smirked, her voice sound way raspier than it did when she sang.

"I- I- I´m not a sailor. This is uh not my uh- boat... I just work here." You stutter out, cursing yourself for seeing the prettiest woman your eyes have ever laid on and you ramble out this sentence.

"You just work here? Oh what a pity, I wanted to ask for some help." The red haired frown, which made you feel sad right away.

"I can help! I just... not my boat." You awkwardly chuckled out.

Her eyes immidietly fell back on you. "Oh really? I don´t want to bother since you´re not the sailor of this boat." Her voice sounded so soft, yet harsh at the same time. It was luring you, by every word she said, you felt different emotion each time. A good emotions.

"I mean I´m on a shift now, so teoretically I am sailor of this boat." You smiled, youre pupils were so big and you felt like you were in euhporia.

She smiled softly. Her smile could make a whole army fall to their knees. You knew it, but most imporatnly she did too. But there was only one person she want to fall on their knees. And that person was you.

"Okay then, sailor..." her raspy voice now coming lower to your body, slowly eletrucing you. "I just need a little favor, my tail..." She let out a little whine, completly changing her body language. She didn´t seem so confident, she looked so fragile and sad. And you have to help her.

"Are you hurt?!" You imidditetly walk closer to her. Crouching so youre on the same eye level. She place her hand on yours, looking at you and finally, she bonded. Her touch made you feel cold and warm at the same time. Butterflies flying everywhere not just in your stomach and her eyes. Her captivating eyes has already read you like a whole book. Her eyes were an entrancing shade of emerald, deep and captivating like the hidden depths of the sea. They held an enigmatic allure, with a hint of mischief and ancient wisdom that drew you in, ensnaring your heart and mind.

"A little-" she sigh and looks away. "-maybe you can help me get back, to safety, where no one can find us." The soft spoken woman look at you, making eye contact again, while her hand is still on yours.

"Us?" Your words caught her off guard.

"Yes, us, darling. You know, not all people are kind as you are. Youre the only one who ever made me feel safe. Youre the only one i can trust now. Youre-" she blinks a few times, leaning closer to you. "-youre my saviour. Will you help me, darling? Help us to get to safety? The world is too cruel and we need to decide right now."

This was the task you were waiting your whole life on here. Make sure she is safe, there is nothing else that is more important than this. You nod, still making eye contact.

"I will. Of course!" You nod again, taking this job very seriously, as you felt like you were born for this.

"Say it. Say what you were made to do, darling." Raspiness was now the only thing that you´ve heard. You were less and less interested in your work and your tasks before her.

Before her there was... was there anything before her?

"I will help you. I will help us get to safety." Your eyes scanned her face, hoping these words will help her.

"Thank you my darling, will you follow me? Please?" her eyes were watery, she´s holing back tears and that tears your heart.

"Yes." You say without hasitation.

"Yes, what, darling?" She asks.

"Yes, uh-" suddnely you feel this sensation, your head feels fuzzy and your view is more and more bright. Your words are caugh up in your throat, when you looked at her lips you can see them moving, but your ears cant catch the word she´s saying. But your mind does.

"Yes, mistress." you whisper back as it´s the only thing you can say.

As you closed your eyes for a second, the world around you seemed to blur and fade. The warm feeling never leaving your side.

Time itself shifted, as if you were wrapped in a comforting cocoon. The soft, rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore became a lullaby and there is it was again. Her singing. Her soft and heart warming singing.

When you finally stirred, it was as if you had awakened in a dream. The dimly lit cave, adorned with iridescent seashells and many other decorations, that suited the cave. And there, before you, was a siren of unparalleled beauty, her emerald eyes reflecting the cave's soft luminescence.

"Hello, darling..." she slowly moved towards you "...slept well?" her smirk grew wider as she saw your hand immidietly going between your legs as there was some unbeliveble aching you were feeling.

"I- uh huh" You only nod, not realizing that your hand is going lower on your body.

The siren´s hand falls on your cheeks as she tuck some of your falen hair behind your ear. Not even for a second breaking eye contact. Without second thinking you grab her hands and put them on your body, that was covered in your wet clothes.

"P-please!" Was all you could have said. She just chuckled and squeezed your breasts.

"You don´t even know my name and you want me to fuck you? Aww darling, youre way easier than I thought you would be. So so so easy" She tsked and suddenly, you didn´t felt her hands on you anymore.

"I don´t care!" You yelp as the aching was even worse now. Is this what drugs do to you? You just want more and more and still it isn´t enough.

The siren looked at you shocked, her hand was placed on her chest as a sign of being offended. "Darling, you don´t care what my name is? That´s rude." She pout. Tears immidietly filling her eyes. "And I thought you don´t want to hurt me, yet you´re just like the others." She looked away.

"Wait- No, no, no! Im not like the others, Im sorry! Im so sorry! I want to know your name. Oh gosh I didn´t want to be so selfish!" You grabbed her arm. "Please, tell me your name, I bet it´s beautiful just like you!"

"You think Im beautiful?" Her green eyes falling back on you.

"Very." You nod.

"It´s Natasha." She wiped her tears.

"Okay, Natasha. Im sorry for being selfish, It was really mean, let me make it up to you, please." You felt so sad, like every joy just left your body forever. Like you didn´t even experience a single happy thing in your life. Like everything was just dark.

"You´re right, you did act very selfish and mean. And you should definetly make it up to me, (Y/N)." Natasha seems so small right now, like a small fish in a big dark ocean.

"Anything you want, just please- forgive me." You basically whined at this point.

"(Y/N), you truly hurted my feelings, I don´t know. How can i trust you not hurting me again?" The horrible feeling of guilt is forming not just in your stomach, but also in your head now.

Natasha looked really hurt by your words. And you felt like if you´ll lose her, you´ll lose yourself, forever.

You squeezed her hand. "I will never. How can i prove it to you? Please..." You knew this will work. "... mistress, let me prove to you, I won´t ever hurt you and Im truly so sorry!"

Her eyes shifted, her pretty green color in her eyes just dissapeared and turned into black.

"Take of your clothes. They´re wet, you will get sick. Aren´t you cold, darling?" At her words you did feel the cold breeze. Actually you were freezing.

"Y-y-yeah, Im freezing." You said while your teeth chattered.

"Oh, darling! Clothes off, righ now!" She ordered and you did as she told. "I don´t want you catch a cold!" Her voice was caring, so caring you didn´t think you deserve it, after how mean you´ve been acting towards her.

As you stand there, completly naked the shivering didn´t end, it got even worse and your nipples could cut dimonds now.

"You´re still cold? Oh, darling, come here." She pointed at her tail. "My tail is warm, it´s gonna keep you from freezing to death." Her smile could cure everything negative thing in this world.

Without second guessing you almost jumped at her, your hand wanting to touch her tail, but you stopped yourself. "May I? Mistress?" Natasha just nodded. You hand immidietly touching her tail.

It´s so soft, oh my god and warm! So so warm.

"Sit on it, darling." She take your hands and guided you on her tail. "It will make you warm, so warm, it will end the shivers, I promise."

So you did. You sat on her tail and if you felt tingles everywhere before, then now there are tignles even in places you don´t have. Running your fingers along its sleek, supple surface was like caressing a piece of heaven. Its velvety texture and gentle, soothing warmth enveloped you in a sense of euphoria, as if you were touching a living embodiment of comfort and enchantment, a sensation that melted away all of your less important other thoughts.

Natasha noticed you´re still shivering and put her hand on your hips. "Darling, if you start to move you will stop shivering. Fast friction makes heat and you really need to be in heat now, darling." Natasha was right, her words were exactly what you needed, but you just didn´t know how.

How can I do this? I don´t want to hurt her tail.

"You won´t hurt my tail, darling. I will guide you, okay?" Her strong hands squeezed your hips and slowly made you move back and forth. "Just like that, you´re doing so good."

After a little while you start to get the hang of it and you felt that amazing friction again. Everything started to feel so good, all the lost joy, all the good feeling are back. All the happy thoughts.

"Oh my god- it´s really working!" You screamed.

"I know, darling. I can feel you on my tail. Keep going." She wispered in your ear.

You did. Oh boy, you did. You moved your hips back and forth faster and faster. And at the same time it got easier, maybe it´s the tail, or maybe it´s the fact that your juices were all over Natasha.

You definetly felt the heat.

Few moments before you came and let all of your juices on the siren´s tail, she started to sing again. In the same language you couldn´t understand before, but you can now. It´s like you know the song all your life.

"Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing alone in the dark,

And while you're searching, ponder this:

We're gonna take what you'll sorely miss,

But not for long you gonna think,

Let us help, and you won´t sink.

Your life might have been so perfect,

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."

After the red head stopped singing, she looked at you and finally closed the gap between you two. Your first kiss was a moment of exquisite tenderness, a meeting of souls that overlap the boundaries of land and sea. As their lips brushed together, it was a gentle, captivating exchange of warmth and desire. In that soft, lingering kiss, they found a connection that was as deep and boundless as the ocean itself, a love that defied all expectations and left you utterly in her arms.

"I forgive you, darling." Natasha said and you knew, you found your life task. As she holds you close on her tail your eyes fell back into the warm fuzzy feeling, you didn´t mind be in forever.

Hope you enjoyed first day of KINKTOBER!

Thank you for reading!!!

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Going Easy

Your spidey fics are amazing. I almost always read/reread one before bed lol. They’re just so cozy and comforting. I love how you write Peter and Natasha’s relationship, but I also really love the dynamic between Peter and Steve. One of my favorite moments being in “Look After You” when Peter was pretty terrified of what Steve may think of him (cause he’s CAPTIN AMERICA) but Steve comforts him. Steve is just so soft with Peter. I was wondering if you would be interested in writing something between Peter and Steve with that sort of vibe again? – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: panic attacks

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 4039

"He's going easy on you." Something cold trickles down Peter's spine. "He…is?" *** Captain Steve Rogers is intimidating, sure, but Peter's handling it just fine. Then Natasha says something that makes it...slightly less fine.

Peter's about 90% sure he's not alone when he says that he's a little afraid of Captain Steve Rogers. Come on, the man's a savant on the field, super strength, insane tactical mind, crazy good fighting skills, and enough sheer stubbornness to be an effective replacement for renewable energy. 

Seriously. He's pretty sure Mr. Stark's working on that or something. 

Sure, it makes sense that mainly it's bad guys or people who don't seem to grasp the concept of being kind to other people that have the most reason to be scared of someone like Captain Rogers, but that doesn't stop the little twinges of fear in his gut when he sees him walk into the room. The whole 'motivational/vaguely disappointed speech' thing doesn't really work on him anymore—thank you, stupid detention video—but everything else? Yeah, that works. Straightens his spine and everything. He does have a pretty good excuse in that he's, y'know, the youngest Avenger, he's still a high school kid which means this is an adult he has to listen to, and it's Captain Goddamn America. It's probably a good thing to have a healthy amount of respect for the guy! Even if it sometimes verges on making him really anxious when they're left in a room alone together!

Case in point: the one-on-one training session they're in the middle of because it makes tactical sense that Captain Rogers would want to know how everyone fights so they can coordinate better in the field, but Peter's anxiety has been having the time of its life making it much, much harder than it needs to be. 

Granted, it hasn't been all that bad. Captain Rogers is the de facto team leader in the field for a reason, and for the most part it's like he's having a PE class that actually challenges him. And yeah, it's kind of fun to practice the stupider moves that are more than likely to happen at some point anyway, like the Tarzan (shooting a web that Captain Rogers can grab onto and swing), the Yoink (catching and bringing a falling team member to safety), and Peter's personal favorite, the Yeet (using a web to hurl someone across a gap or a higher obstacle). 

He'd had to explain why he'd named it that and got graced with only a bemused look and a quiet chuckle before they were actually practicing it, so he'll take it as a win. 

But then they move onto Peter doing things by himself while Captain Rogers stands and watches, and that's…oh, boy, that's not as fun. Because now he's standing there just staring at him with that wrinkle between his brows like something's just off that he's going to make Peter fix before he's allowed to leave and it's making him second-guess himself in a way that leads to…

Peter winces as he misses the next ledge, fingers just landing shy of the steel as he tumbles to the floor. He lands on the mat, thank God, but falling from twenty feet up is still falling from twenty feet up. That's gonna be a nasty bruise for a little bit until his healing factor takes care of it. 

"Peter? Spider-Man, status."

Oh, oops. "'M good, 'm all good, just got the wind knocked out of me."

He rolls onto his back and—tries really hard not to flinch when Captain Goddamn America is standing over him with his arms crossed and his gaze stern. Luckily he's pretty sure he can pass it off as general discomfort from, you know, falling twenty feet, but this man has an uncanny ability to see everything and he's not taking his chances. 

"Sorry, sorry, I'm—I'm okay, just give me a second?"

He gets stared at for a moment longer before Captain Rogers sighs, crouching down and resting a hand on his uninjured side. "I think that's enough for today."

"What? No, it's fine, just give me a second—I should know how to do stuff hurt too, right?"

Something flickers across his expression too quick to name before it settles on concern. "I'm not gonna have you push yourself too much right now, okay? I think Nat'd kill me."

As if on cue, the door slides open with a telltale whoosh. 

"What're you doing to my Baby Spider?"

"I just fell!" Peter calls before Captain Rogers can say anything—is that rude? Maybe. "I'm okay!"

Natasha comes up behind them, sitting on the mat and pulling up his shirt sleeve. Both her and Captain Rogers stare at the bruise and he shuffles unconsciously. 

"It's fine, I'm almost done healing it."

"Yeah, that's enough for today," Captain Rogers says, quickly standing up, "get some rest, alright? You did great."

"I did?"

He pauses, that thing flickering over his face again, before he chuckles. "Yeah, kid, you did." 

He leaves with another glance and Natasha and Peter can't help the way he presses slightly into her side. She stares after him until the door closes, shaking her head with a laugh. 

"What?"

"He's going easy on you."

Something cold trickles down Peter's spine. "He…is?"

She laughs again. "Oh, yeah."

This is fine. This is fine. Everything's so fine and good right now in the way that it's happening. 

He can handle this. 

***

He can't handle this. 

All of his anxiety around Captain Rogers? Doubled. Tripled. Through the roof. He's trying not to be obvious about it, but he's pretty sure he's failing miserably. Especially since he's now being gently-not-gently cornered in his lab by said source of anxiety. 

Well, maybe not cornered, but when the man knocks—knocks on the lab door and says hey, can I talk to you for a second? Which is basically the same thing. And of course, he reverts to scared-little-kid mode and—

"Did I do something wrong?"

Not the best way to start off this conversation! Not in the slightest! 

"What?" Captain Rogers blinks. "No, Peter, you didn't do anything wrong. I, uh, I should be asking you that."

It's Peter's turn to blink at him, confused. He's never seen the man anything other than composed but right now he looks almost sheepish as he asks if there's a good place for him to sit. Peter silently points to a nearby and he sits, hands folded in between his knees, leaning forward like he's trying to make himself smaller, less threatening. 

Wait, that's exactly what he's doing. 

He's also talking. Which means Peter should probably be listening and not drifting off into nowhere-land, so he quickly tunes back in just in time to hear: "…training session? You don't have to start back up again if you don't want to, or we could ask Nat or someone else to be there if that would make you more comfortable?"

"N-no, that's fine, I'm—I'm good to train again! Are you—did you want to go now, or—actually, I have a thing I wanna finish first, if that's okay, so if we could—"

"Peter."

He shuts up. Captain Rogers looks at him for a moment before he sighs, letting his head hang for a second before looking back up. 

"Are you scared of me?"

"What? No, that's—that'd be crazy, right? Why would I be scared of you?" Frantic babbling is definitely selling this, uh huh, 100%. "That's—that's not true! I'm—I'm not—it's—okay, so, um…"

"You can be honest," he says, voice quiet, and that's not fair because now Peter wants to just tell him everything. 

"…I mean, I'm not, like, scared, but it's…I'm…y'know," he mumbles, fiddling with something he probably shouldn't be fiddling with, "you're…intimidating. Which isn't a bad thing! It's a good thing—I mean, sometimes it's a bit much—but that's not, like, your fault or anything. I just—"

He can't meet Captain Rogers' gaze. He just can't. He sees him shift a bit out of the corner of his eye. 

"…yeah."

"Okay," he hears, still in that quiet voice, "is there something that happened recently that made it worse?"

"I—uh—well—it's kind of embarrassing." He swallows. "Natasha—Ms. Romanoff said you were, uh, going easy on me and it just sort of…"

He trails off when Captain Rogers makes a noise. It's not a scoff, it's not really even a laugh, but it's a noise and his head jerks up to see him pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's not what she meant."

"What do you mean, not what she meant?"

"She didn't mean I was taking it easy on you when it came to your training."

"…then what did she mean?"

He's gotta be imagining things. He really has to be imagining things because Captain Rogers looks embarrassed. And that's not—he does not have a reason to be embarrassed right now and he needs someone else who has a more competent handle on the situation to explain why he is. 

"Peter—"

He's gonna pay Natasha back for all the saving she does. He's going to. He swears. Because she waltzes in like she owns the place and comes over to give him a hug before mock-glaring at Captain Rogers. 

"What've you done now?"

"You need to explain why you told him I was going easy on him."

"Because you are, Steve, and it's getting kind of pathetic."

Peter flinches. And that was the wrong thing to do because now both of them are looking at him with concern. Then he hears Captain Rogers mutter something under his breath and then his hair's getting ruffled by a cool hand and he's being cuddled against a firm side. 

"It's okay, Baby Spider. It really is. Hey, look at me." Natasha smiles at him then gestures to Captain Rogers. "Do you wanna know what the worst-kept secret is about our friend here?"

"Uh, sure."

"He's a big teddy bear."

Peter blinks. And blinks. And blinks a third time for good measure. Captain Rogers doesn't try to deny it, which is the other weird thing, he just sits there and stares at Peter with an expression he'd describe as a pout if it wasn't on, you know, Captain Steve Rogers. 

"He's…what?"

Natasha nods sagely. "A big, soft, fluffy teddy bear. It's a danger to even sit on your bed looking somewhat sad because he'll turn up in something soft asking if you need to talk about anything."

Peter snorts out a laugh. That can't be right. But he's still…not denying it? What? "Is that—really?"

"Ask Wanda. Or Yelena. Or—actually, FRIDAY, can you patch Stark in?"

"Right away." There's a brief chime in the ceiling. "Mr. Stark on line 4."

"What's up, Romanoff, I have a nuclear reactor that needs babysitting—"

"Explain the Cashmere Protocol for Peter."

A pause. "Kid still skittish around Rogers?"

"Mhm."

"Cashmere Protocol is when there's an overly-compassionate puppy dog in soft clothing roaming around 'cause he needs someone to be protective over and if you don't wanna be smothered in affection, you better make yourself scarce or be prepared to cry a whole lot." 

"That's why you replaced all my sweaters?"

"Tell me you like your dollar store hoodie better and I'll buy you a whole damn gas station company."

"Stark, I swear to God—"

"Babysitting a nuclear reactor! Bye!"

The chime sounds again and Captain Rogers just shakes his head as Natasha laughs. She ruffles Peter's hair again. "Him going easy on you? Not training related at all. He's trying not to smother you to death with all his affection."

"Wh—me? Why?"

That must be the wrong thing to say because Captain Rogers' face falls—the man is pouting. The man is honest to God pouting—and Natasha's grin just gets bigger. "Like I said. Teddy bear."

"O-oh."

"You're not doing anything wrong, Peter," comes the quiet voice again, and now it's gone all gentle too, "I didn't mean to make you anxious around me, and you definitely don't have to change what you're doing. Yes, it's true that I'd like to be there for you when you need me, even if it's not team-related, but if you're not comfortable with that, that's perfectly fine."

"I'm—okay," he mumbles, "I just—that's fine. I'm…fine with it."

"It's okay if you're not."

"No! It's—uh—" Natasha holds him a little closer and he takes a deep breath— "I just…didn't know it was an…option, y'know?"

"And that's not on you." Captain Rogers smiles at him. Smiles at him all soft and caring. "But if you want help, or support, or comfort, you can come to me. Okay?"

"O-okay."

***

He didn't really think he'd ever actually take him up on it. And technically, he didn't. Not voluntarily. 

But he's having a stupid panic attack in the living room of all places—amateur hour, all experienced panic-attack havers know you're supposed to do that in your room—and then there's a dark blur in front of him and warm hands cupping his face and a low voice crooning something in his ear. 

"…you're doing really well, sweetheart, just look at me, that's it, that's it, Peter, just look at me…"

He blinks. Tears rolls down his cheeks as a face swims into view. 

"Hey, there you are," Captain Rogers says gently with a soft smile on his face, his thumbs brushing the tears from his damp skin, "hey, sweetheart, it's only me, it's just Steve."

"S-Steve?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, it's Steve. Hey, you're doing really well, okay? Everything's okay, you're in Avengers Tower, you're safe, it's just me. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

He sniffles. His hands are shaking. He's cold. It's so cold. 

"You're cold? Okay, let's get you warm. Are you okay with being touched a little more? Yeah? Okay, come here, sweetheart, come cuddle with me." And then there are firm arms around him and oh, where has this been every time he's having a panic attack? "There you go…I've got you, sweetheart, it's okay. I'll keep you safe."

His chest feels like it's collapsing in on itself. His lungs are on fire. His hands are going to shake off of his wrists. He's staring down at the cold water on the floor with concrete collapsing on top of him and he can hear Aunt May screaming and—and—and—

"Shh, shh, sweetheart, I've got you. Hold onto me, yeah, just like that. You got me, okay? I'm right here. You're safe."

—and Captain Rogers—Steve just holds him. Rubs his back and murmurs sweet things in his ear and lets him cry all over him and cuddles him close until he can breathe normally again. 

"Steve?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" He pulls back a little, brushing a stray tear from under his chin. "You feel a little better?"

He nods. 

"Can I get you some water?"

"Mhm."

And he expects Steve to get up, because there isn't water around here, but then he reaches down and picks up a water bottle and presses it carefully into Peter's hands. "Slow, okay?"

"Wha—did you just have this?"

"You were crying," he says, like that's an answer to the question, "crying makes you dehydrated. Let me know if you need more."

"Do you have, like, another bottle down there?"

Steve chuckles. "No, but I do have the magic ability to go refill it."

"Yeah." 

The water is cold. He manages about half of it before he's done. Steve takes it, sets it out of sight and cards a hand through his hair. "When was the last time you ate something?"

"What time is it?"

He checks his watch. "Just gone three."

"Like…an hour ago." He sniffles and goes to wipe his nose when Steve holds out a tissue box. He takes one and blows it with a desolate honk. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"Crying on you."

"That's the point, sweetheart, I don't mind." He rubs his arm soothingly. "Can I ask what you normally do to recover from panic attacks?"

"Well, I, uh, normally I just sort of…sit for a while and then get back to whatever I was doing." He swipes another tissue. "This one wasn't even that bad, so…I'm—I'm good now. Thanks."

Steve's quiet for a second. "Do you want me to go?"

"What?"

"Do you want me to go?"

That…feels like a trick question. Does he want the very protective and caring person giving him cuddles during a panic attack to leave? No, obviously, but that's not the point. The point is Peter's fine now, so Steve's job is done. But then he's making a face like that's not the right thing to have said, so Peter starts backpedaling, and then Steve shushes him gently. 

"What do you want to do to recover from panic attacks?"

"What do I want to do? I want to not have panic attacks."

"Don't we all, kid," he laughs, "but humor me. Say you want Stark to rent out a pizza joint so you can stuff yourself full of garlic bread, say you want to paint your room blue, make it as unreasonable as you can. If you could do anything in the world, what would you want to do?"

Peter thinks. What's the biggest joke he could make right now? Something about canceling homework? Something about blowing up the dumb power plant in the middle of the lake? Something about making a show come true or something else really outlandish?

No, what comes out of his mouth is: "…have someone help me take a shower so I don't feel all gross and…and watch a movie with take-out, or something."

You know. What he actually wants. 

Steve blows out a breath in front of him and cups his chin in his big warm hand. "I thought I said to be unreasonable, Parker. C'mon, let's go get you washed up."

"W-wait, wait, what?" as Steve starts to stand up, one hand still on his shoulder. "What're you doing?"

Steve tilts his head, that soft smile back on his face and he rubs Peter's shoulder. "You said you wanted a shower and a movie, right?"

"Yeah, but—"

Steve crouches back down so Peter doesn't have to crane his neck to look up at him, still smiling. "Let me help you, sweetheart. You've just had a panic attack and you're still shaking a little. I'll help you take a shower and then we can order some food on Stark's card and watch a movie, okay?"

"That's not fair." He refuses to believe he's whining, but lets Steve pull him up anyway. "Thought you were going easy on me."

"Not anymore, Parker. Just be glad I'm not carrying you."

"You'd do that?" And then Steve just gives him a look and gently scoops him up like he's five years old again and carries him up to his room. "…whoa."

He just chuckles, warm against Peter's chest, and sets him down on the bathroom counter. "You wanna tell me where your soft clothes are?"

"Uh, third drawer," he mumbles as Steve turns the shower on, "on the left side."

"Okay. I'm gonna leave them right outside the door, okay?"

"Thanks."

"What do you want to eat?"

"…can we get burgers from that place near the park?"

"Sure thing, kiddo." 

And Peter can't help himself. Steve turns to go and he reaches out and yanks him close, arms wrapped all the way around him—legs too—and his nose buried in the crook of his neck. Steve just wraps him up just as tightly, kissing his temple and everything. 

"It's gonna be okay, sweetheart," he whispers, "you're safe, you hear me? I've got you. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

"You promise?"

"Yeah, sweetheart, I promise." He holds him until the bathroom starts to fill with steam, gently pulling away with another kiss to his forehead. "Go on, shower. I'll be right outside."

Peter gets in the shower. It's warm and he's sniffling still, because apparently he doesn't know what else to do, but having the water just run over him is…nice. Really nice. It sort of pounds over his neck and shoulders in a really soothing way and it's like all the gross panic attack stuff is just…washing away. 

Really nice. 

He gets out when his fingers start to go a little pruney and scrubs himself dry with a towel that's also warm because Mr. Stark gave all of them heated towel racks and Steve must've turned his on before he got in, and then he opens the door a crack and finds the soft clothes he was promised and gets into them, going outside to see—

Steve looks up from his seat at his desk, smiling and holding his arms out like there isn't a veritable mound of his favorite candy sitting in the middle of his bed. Peter just sort of stumbles across the room, letting himself collapse into the hug. 

"How did you…?"

"Texted Nat. Scolded me for interrupting her date with May until I told her it was for you having a bad time." He rubs his back. "C'mon, burgers should be here in a little bit and you've got a movie to pick."

"That's so much candy."

"You've just had a panic attack." He nudges him gently. "It's allowed. Now, movie, sweetheart."

"Can we watch the really stupid movie with the—the boxing robots?"

Steve chuckles, sitting against his headboard as Peter crawls into his arms. "The one that made you and Tony go on a building spree in the R&D warehouse until Pepper dragged you two out?"

"Yeah, that one."

"Sure. Only if you promise you're gonna explain why all the robots have really obvious design flaws." 

"Wait, really?"

Steve gives him a look and gently hits his hand with a bag of sour watermelon gummies. "You think I don't love listening to you be a massive science geek? You know Buck's idea of a good double date was going to a science fair, right?"

Peter laughs. Steve ruffles his hair. A moment later, FRIDAY lets them know their food is downstairs and Steve gets up. 

"If it's alright, I'll let you set up the movie, okay? All this new-fangled tech tends to fly over my head." He gives him a wink when Peter scoffs—Steve reprogrammed one of the higher-level combat simulations by himself not two weeks ago—but leans forward to do just that. "I'll be right back."

He really is right back, that's the thing. To the point where Peter's tempted to ask if he really does have super speed in a way that's not just his serum-enhanced athletic prowess, and then he starts thinking about Steve sprinting up to his room with their burgers and now he's laughing, and Steve's narrowing his eyes but he's trying not to laugh too. 

"What? What'd I do?"

"I just imagined you were sprinting up here and it made me laugh."

"I climbed the staircase," he says, completely straight-faced, and Peter gawks at him for a moment before he winks again. "Here, eat while it's still warm."

They settle back against the headboard again to start the movie. Steve's arm drapes over his shoulder—the one he bruised, he realizes when fingers stroke almost apologetically over his sleeve. 

"Hey, Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for letting me help you," he says softly, so softly, "it means a lot to me, sweetheart."

"You're gonna make me cry again."

He feels the smile against his hair as Steve kisses the crown of his head. "Good thing I know what to do now, right?"

Captain Steve Rogers, Peter learns, is an absolute menace of a teddy bear, but he's not that upset about it. Especially when it ends with him and Mr. Stark shadowboxing the two robots they make while Peter referees. 

(Mr. Stark says something about calling someone named Logan afterwards, whatever that means. Said he'd get a real kick out of it.)

[gaylienz]

sharing some of my ocd intrusive thoughts for the first time jic it might help someone else feel less alone;

the fear that i dont have enough friends and that all the ones i have are going to realize i’m not worth being around were some of the first thoughts that would NOT leave my mind and would keep me up and make me sick and ironically caused me to lose friends (a self fulfilling prophecy). tbh these are still some feelings i struggle with despite carrying on years long friendships now.

it hasn’t happened in a while but sometimes i would hyper focus on my breathing or swallowing or blinking etc and would drive myself to the point of tears with how it took up all my attention

the worst ones are the thoughts about incest. there’s been a lot of sexual trauma in my family and my brain likes to find the worst moments (like when i’m trying to jerk off or sleep) to remind me and torture me with all the what ifs. its gotten slightly better but i would have dreams/nightmares and memories from childhood haunt me

i used to do this really cool (/sarcasm) thing where i would be so self conscious about my race, being white-passing, and racist (aka a potential threat to any poc around) that it circled right back around to being super racist (another self fulfilling stupid prophecy) bc i would get nervous anytime someone not-white was around that they would be anxious about my presence….

classic suicidal thoughts even when im not feeling suicidal (something goes wrong even a little bit—my brain: well this wouldnt have happened if you were dead. me: wow thanks) even now today im struggling with the awful 'im gonna kill myself' jokes. trying to replace with 'i need rat bites to live' lol

the way i dealt with the obsessions was a combo of things which never really felt compulsive but now i see they might be? i used to read a lot. like to the point where i would skip meals and be inside for the entire day, unmoving. i liked reading but mostly it was how i kept my mind busy and away from other more dangerous thoughts.

i guess body-focused repetitive behaviors (BFRBs) are a thing with ocd which i didnt always know—basically its really gross and im ashamed of it but i autocannibalise….i’ve been doing so for as long as i can remember but im so ashamed i’ve never really talked about it bc i just thought i was disgusting (and maybe i am) but i catch myself doing it without thought which i believe is impulse (or habit?) idk but it hurts my body so probably would be considered mildly concerning? i've pulled out my hair and given myself many scars through this kind of stuff.

anyway just letting you know that you're not alone, don't be afraid to ask for help, and if that doesnt work then never give up and keep asking for help, be excellent to each other you never know what someone is experiencing <3

[ficoandleo]

A text goes out to Romeo's underlings:

I'm going to be unavailable for the rest of the day.

If you need something and it isn't urgent, tell me tomorrow.

If there's something urgent, inform Ritsu Shinjo.

If there's an emergency, inform Ritsu Shinjo and/or Taiga Hoshibami.

If there's a non-medical Taiga related emergency, inform Ritsu Shinjo and Hyde.

If there's a medical Taiga related emergency, CALL MORTKRANKEN FIRST, THEN inform Ritsu Shinjo and Hyde.

-Fico

As for where Romeo is. . .right now he's headed towards the deck of the ship, sniper on his back and several vials of prototype explosives in a box under his arm. His phone won't go off unless he gets a message from a limited amount of people, including but not limited to the above mentioned.

Their captive is Jin's business, so he can't make more of a mess of him than Taiga already has. And it'd be a bad idea to use his stigma willy nilly, blowing up the broken pieces of furniture in the VIP room in the desert just to vent, but maybe sniping at the anomalies further in the desert will keep his mind off of things for a little bit. It's not like he's going to kill them. Just harass them a little bit. Once it's late enough he can go drink at Rui's bar and however he gets home is how he gets home.

. . .it's stupid to feel so wound up just because of furniture he probably won't even pay to have replaced himself. Even if they're expensive. But he hates losing things. Having things broken. Even when he can replace them, it hurts until then. It makes him anxious and nauseous.

He's just lost too much by now. Thinking about it makes his leg ache and burn in phantom pain, memories shooting painful electricity up his thigh. His anomalous prosthetic shuddered independently of himself, affected by his mind's rejection of it in favor of reliving the feeling of loss. He only noticed when he almost slid down, as if it were trying to escape him when he didn't want to cooperate with it.

". . .it's fine." To himself? To the limb? It tensed up, reunited with his consciousness. Part of him, even when he felt the memory of pain. Not as good of a team as Haru and his arm, but he accepted its necessity even if he didn't want to. "It will be fine. It always has."

[nczaversnick]

Range of Emotions Tag

Lot of people sent me this one so thanks to @the-golden-comet, @illarian-rambling and @willtheweaver

Joy

From my outline of Ch 20

Iris nods and leaves them as Adrian turns towards Caspian, but sees that he’s already rounding around him to continue walking towards the little girl. Adrian: [he arches an eyebrow and sees the daughter] Daughter: [looks up when she hears approaching footsteps and her eyes brighten up when she sees Adrian, but not Caspian] Uncle Andy! [she rushes past Caspian and jumps into Adrian’s arms] Caspian, a little hurt by this, watches Adrian catch the little girl and swing her around, almost as if he had done it a million times. It was different seeing this side of Adrian, a nice different though. Daughter: Come play with me, uncle Andy! Adrian: Of course, Lady [Daughter]. What shall we play? Caspian couldn’t help the small laughter snort which causes Adrian to momentarily break out of character to glare at him, which prompts Caspian to whistle and look somewhere else as if he was laughing at something else, and Adrian looks back down at the daughter. Daughter: Well, first, we’re going to play Princess and the Dragon- Adrian: A fine choice. [he sets the little girl down and she takes his hand and pulls him in the direction of her playing area, listing off all the games she had in store for the both of them].

Anger

ch 4 of a previous draft

“I usually don’t have to force people down here,” the man yawned and stretched his arms as he climbed to his feet, “but you were giving me more trouble than you’re worth.” Caspian scoffed at this. “As for who the Hell I think I am. I’m Adrian, you know, the man who just saved your life. You’re welcome.” “Thanks, but no thanks. I didn’t ask for your help.” “The way you were sobbing in the alleyway, it sure did look like you needed my help.”

Sad Scrapped draft of book 2

Adrian leaned against the young cherry tree. Frost covered his arms and legs. It covered the ground at his feet and the tree against his back. “How do I fix this Aurelia? You’ve always been here when I got hurt...no matter how stupid or reckless I was..you were always there to make it better. To help ease the pain.” he took a shaky breath, “But this is different. This is different from the broken ribs and sprained ankles. Different from the bruises, bleeding and burns..but you’d know what to do. I know you would know what to do...I feel like Caspian stuck his hand into my chest and just...pulled my heart right out…” he said softly, before sniffing and trying to wipe the tears from his eyes before they could spill over onto his face. But in the end there were too many tears to be had and he gave up, just letting them run down his cheeks. “I miss you so much..”

Anxiety I do have a scene for this one but I haven’t actually written it down But Adrian’s constantly anxious. Anxious for his friends. For the other deviants. Anxious that he’s putting a lot of people at risk for his cause.

Fear Scrapped draft of book 2

Adrian had gone outside I know that much probably checking on the garden. “You like Caspian right?” Quinn responded mockingly. Adrian shut up and looked away. Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Oh my god you actually do like him.” “I dont know. I dont know. I do feel…..something. Something is there. But...what if its not real? What if I’m...what if “ Adrian just couldn't figure out how to phrase what he was feeling. “I uh dated Athena for a bit back when we first met but it didn’t last because I was...into her because she was nice to me not because I actually...not because i actually..yknow..liked her.” Iris nodded slowly. “And you dont want the same thing to be true of Caspian.” Adrian nodded. “But like this feels different. Like it hurts sometimes. Like like it hurts when I’m not with him..”

Disgust A bit of the ch 20 draft

Cas started at getting a bit of a big head at all the praise as Athena continues to boast about how well he’s doing with his trainings with everyone. “You seem to be forgetting our mission here. I heard the intel from Zeke about how the mission went. What you did may have been considered ‘kind’, but it was thoughtless. The last thing we need is for someone to get too big of a head and think they’re indestructible. That’s how you end up getting killed.” Adrian said gruffly. Cas turned to look at him, “I thought we were here to help people?” “We are here to help people, but we are also here to protect ourselves. There’s always a better option, even if the two options are the worst. You have to think about every single possibility when you’re out there. “I feel like I can protect myself just fine.” “Oh? Should we test that theory?” Adrian sneered

Tags [comment to be +/-]

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[theygotbitchesinmedia]

ask dump

i have a couple dozen unanswered asks on this blog, most of which i believe are media recommendations, so i'm going to go through those now in a batch!

if you haven't seen it already We Are Lady Parts would be a fantastic recommendation for this blog. I started it last week and really love it. It's about a struggling punk Muslim girls band who recruit the extremely anxious, goody-two-shoes Amina to be their lead guitarist. It balance its moments of drama really well with the comedy and all of the women in the band get to be deeply weird in different and endlessly charming ways. My favorite is Amina because of her very relatable habit to have elaborate silly daydreams about anything and everything. Good show with some really good women!

I've heard good things about this one! Adding it to the list

I can't remember if you take recs for things in progress or not but the webtoon Katlaya Rising is currently the high point of my week, the art style POPS and it is jam-packed with girls and girls who love girls

I will always read things in progress 👍 I honestly in some ways prefer getting into stuff before it's finished. Like an animal with one of those food bowls that stops you from eating too fast. Added to the list.

Please read Villain Initialization!!!! The female characters are really good!!!!!!!!!

Looking at the cover and description for this one it seems like most of the female cast is gonna be side characters. i'll add it to the list but itll probably be reallllly back burner unless someone wants to go to bat hard for it and sway me

if youre taking recommendations bittersweet con panna is a cute yuri manhwa and hacks is an insane tvshow about millenial comedy writer who got cancelled on twitter and a beautiful old standup comic about to lose her vegas residency.

added both! never heard of bittersweet con panna but my sister has been going really hard for hacks and i feel like i owe it to her to watch that sooner rather than later because of all the media im always trying to force onto her

"Kevin Can F*** Himself" on AMC is fantastic and has some really interesting female protags, I recommend. Might be a similar vibe to On Becoming a God in Central Florida actually!

Already on the list!

i'd like to second the rec for no home, probably one of the greatest webtoons of all time

one moth ago anon i can safely say you were correct about this it is certainly one of the greatest webtoons of all time. i do think its not really About women but i get why you all wanted me to read it enough to push it

@whatasmoothgardener Reccing a short manga I've been reading recently called Is Kichijoji the Only Place to Live. Its a manga about twin girls who run a small real estate company in Tokyo from the POV of their clients. It has a unique art style, its female character focused, and it teaches you about the different places in Tokyo. However its kinda episodic.

I don't mind episodic at all. Cool to see female manga protags who arent stick thin! added to the list

@phoenixfangs i got into a webtoon the other day called nevermore and considered recommending it to u, but i second guessed myself like oh what if its not worth recommending and its stupid actually, BUT i had a dream last night that u were talking about it so i think i have to at least put it on ur radar, if it isnt already xD what happens if u take edgar allen poe stories and make it about lesbians? u get the webtoon nevermore ❤️ theres an actual Plot to it too im not trying to sell it based on tropes, i just cant describe it better than the actual synopsis/description on webtoon, so id say its worth a glance!

At first glance i'm not sure how to my personal tastes this owuld be but i feel like i have maybe been unfairly biased against popular webtoons in that front. added to the list !

@counttwinkula listen i know your "media to get around to" list is forever long but i reread the haunting of hill house (the book) for my podcast and eleanor and theodora just. won't stop touching each other. some of the most classic toxic yuri imo. also the 1963 film adaptation (the haunting) is so good

ill always appreciate a horror recommendation from one of my learned Horror Mutuals. added both!

if it changes anything, you can find the main stories of arknights and limbus company here and here respectively without downloading the game: [retcons dot github dot io slash limbus-storylogs] [akgcc dot github dot io slashcc slash story dot html hashtag main] (sorry it wont let me send links) i totally understand if u think its too much trouble, but i do think both games have very good female characters

I'm sorry... i just cant go down this road.... it's a path i'm not willing ot walk. if i was going to read the stories for a gacha game i wasn't playing i would just go read shoujo kageki revue starlight re:LIVE. which i havent been able to make myself do. so its just not gonna end up happening

have you heard of tangle tower… it’s a relatively short murder mystery click and point game about two families & their secrets. the art is gorgeous + the game is fully voiced, and the protagonist + his assistant have a dynamic that reminds me of the classic ace attorney ‘lawyer + weird girl’ duos. the majority of the cast are women, and the game features some of the Girls Of All Time. highly recommend, esp since you’re an ace attorney fan

Added to the list!

if you’re trying to flesh out the book section, i’d like to recommend three parts dead by max gladstone! admittedly it’s been a hot second since I’ve read it so i can’t speak on the quality of the writing itself, but the plot and the worldbuilding had some interesting stuff. the novel follows tara, a necromancer in a world where doing magic is more akin to being a lawyer, who’s hired to resurrect a god. the book is the first in a series, and the books that follow have some other interesting female protagonists + canonical queer women if you enjoy it o7

Sounds neat! Added to the list

ok i still have some more from back in fucking April that i didnt manage to get to. but im getting distracted now

[ganondoodle]

something thats been driving me crazy is the constant worry that i am somehow using harmful stereotypes for the characters i write

like i am unfortunately white tm and me also being autistic and queer does not erase that obviously, im always trying to educate myself as best as i can, yet i feel like im always doing something wrong

its less of a problem when im working with the normal forms of hylia and demise since they are not really human, and though their humanoid disguises technically are still not human they do represent what they might have looked like if they grew up as one; i didnt want to make demises form too dark since i felt like it would perpetuate that stereotype of dark skin = evil which is already not great about ganondorfs character design, but didnt want to make him too light since i felt it would erase that part of his connection to ganondorf altogether and make it all the worse, but then again my demise isnt actually that evil, hes good at heart, so making him too light then would be even worse bc it would imply that light = good thing again

for hylia im even more anxious about it bc i intentionally gave her very dark skin to kinda subvert that light = good thing with zelda (tho in my AU the gods are not good and hylia isnt actually as loyal to them as it may seem bc she knows that.. which i feel complicates things just further; and also light an dark is just a very good contrast aesthetically?) but then i also like to intentionally make characters rather ?gender? but then i worry her being somewhat masculine would also be sth harmful bc i know black women are often treated as inherently less feminine .. which isnt my intention at all (tho my hylia .. doesnt rly have a gender? idk many characters i like to write/design dont have anything specific, like what more do you need than knwoing the right pronouns to call them?? qnq) her being rather cold and ruthless also feels like im doing something bad somehow

then theres the whole sexualization worry, i dont know if im doing that in a bad way bc honestly i just like .. drawing ...bodies? aesthetically? like yes they are very sexy but also wheres the line, am i somehow overstepping it without knowing?? how can i recognize what is normal 'finding certain things pretty or sexy' and what isnt??

so far i dont remeber anyone pointing anythign out as bad which im taking as a sign that i cant be doing that badly .. hopefully, maybe all this is a very stupid thing to worry about and its obvious to everyone else but i am so god damn afraid of doing something even slightly questionable and being hunted down for it (probably bc similar happened to me when i was a teen and it was about an absolut non issue, literally, so even the thought of doing something actually bad is mind boggling to me bc that other thing nearly cost me my life and i literally dont know how i survived and i would 100% not if it happened again..)

this is probably a very chronically online thing too but hoenstly i needed to get it out of my head for once