#as I answered that question I thought about latch I admit it

[g1rlsp1ckins]

💌 + 🪽 + 🪞 for dr s/o ask game ! ^_^

𝓢HIFTING 𝓐SK ✶ 𝓖AME

the one part is really long as always but enjoy <3

💌 — who confessed first and how did it happen?

REGULUS -

The library was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came late at night when most students had given up on studying and retreated to their dorms. But Regulus and I weren’t most students.

This was our usual spot—a hidden corner near the floor-to-ceiling windows, where the grounds stretched far beyond the university. We’d spent countless nights here, sometimes studying, sometimes talking, sometimes just existing in the same space. Tonight should’ve been no different, but something was off.

Regulus had barely turned a page of his book in the last twenty minutes. He kept shifting in his chair, drumming his fingers against the table, staring out the window like the skyline held the answer to some unspoken question.

I nudged his foot under the table. “You’re brooding.”

He exhaled sharply, snapping his gaze to me. “I’m not brooding.”

I smirked. “You’re literally the definition of brooding.”

He didn’t argue, which was my first real sign that something was wrong. Normally, he’d roll his eyes and fire back some dry remark, but instead, he just pressed his fingers to his temple, like he was debating something in his head.

I closed my book and leaned forward. “Regulus, what’s going on?”

Silence stretched between us. He glanced back at the window, his jaw tense, his fingers tapping restlessly against the table. I knew better than to rush him—Regulus Black wasn’t the type to speak before he was ready.

But then, suddenly, he exhaled sharply and muttered, “This is ridiculous.”

I frowned. “What is?”

He looked at me then—really looked at me—and I felt the shift in the air, the way the moment became heavier, charged with something unspoken but undeniable.

“I’m tired of pretending I don’t—” He cut himself off, shaking his head in frustration. “I care about you, Florence. More than I should. More than I planned to.”

The words hit me all at once, stealing the breath from my lungs. Regulus never spoke about his emotions so openly—he showed them in careful gestures, in the smallest touches, in the way he always seemed to notice when I was cold and silently draped his scarf over my shoulders. But now, here he was, saying it out loud, even if it was a little messy, a little hesitant.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and reached across the table, taking his hand in mine. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

His fingers twitched like he was going to pull away, but then, slowly, he curled them around mine. It was such a small thing, but it felt like everything.

“It could be,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “If I lose you.”

Something about the way he said it made my heart ache. He wasn’t just afraid of saying this—he was afraid of what it might mean. Of what might happen if things went wrong.

I tightened my grip on his hand. “You won’t,” I promised. “Because I care about you too, Regulus. Probably more than I should. Definitely more than I planned to.”

For a second, his lips parted like he was about to say something, but then he let out the smallest of laughs—a breath of relief disguised as a sound. He shook his head, looking down at our intertwined hands.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured.

“And you love it,” I teased, smiling.

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. The way his thumb traced slow, thoughtful circles against my skin said more than words ever could.

JAMES -

James had always been James—loud, reckless, impossible to ignore. From the moment I met him through Remus, he had latched onto me like I was some kind of personal challenge, determined to annoy me into friendship. And it worked, annoyingly enough.

But somewhere along the way, between the playful bickering, the late-night study sessions where he “accidentally” left his notes behind so I had to return them, and the way he always made sure I had a cup of coffee waiting for me before my early morning classes, I realized that James Potter cared. And he didn’t do anything halfway.

So when I started dating Regulus, I expected James to be...well, James about it. Teasing, dramatic, maybe a little possessive of his new best friend’s time. But what I didn’t expect was how quiet he got. How the light behind his eyes dimmed just a little whenever he saw us together.

For months, I thought I had just imagined it. That James had finally moved on to something—or someone—else. Until one night, everything cracked wide open.

It had started like any other night. The three of us had been at Regulus’s flat, a place that had slowly become something of a sanctuary—mostly because it was one of the few places James and I could drag Reg out of his self-inflicted solitude.

James had been stretched out on the couch, tossing a tennis ball in the air, while Regulus and I sat on the floor, backs against the coffee table. The room was warm, filled with the low hum of music playing from the old record player in the corner. It was easy. Comfortable. Until it wasn’t.

“I need another drink,” James announced suddenly, pushing himself up with too much force, like the weight of something unseen had been pressing him down all night. “Anyone else?”

Regulus barely glanced up from his book. “You’ve had two. Do you plan on making this a competition with yourself?”

James scoffed. “Oh, come on, Reggie. Loosen up. We’re celebrating.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Celebrating what, exactly?”

James grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “The fact that I’ve miraculously survived being the third wheel for this long without throwing myself out a window.”

The air shifted. My stomach twisted. “James…”

But he was already laughing, like it was some kind of joke. Like it didn’t matter. Except it did. I knew it. Regulus knew it.

“Alright,” I said, standing up. “Come with me.”

James blinked, thrown off. “Uh—where, exactly?”

I jerked my head toward the kitchen. “Just—come on.”

Regulus didn’t say anything, but I could feel his gaze on us as I dragged James away.

The moment we stepped into the kitchen, James turned, ready with some kind of defense, some easy brush-off. But I wasn’t having it.

I crossed my arms. “You’ve been acting weird for months.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “Weird? That’s rich coming from you and Reggie—”

“James.”

He stopped. His shoulders dropped just slightly. “It’s nothing, Flo.”

“Bullshit.”

He smiled, but it was tired. “You love my bullshit.”

“Not when you’re hurting,” I said quietly.

For a second, he just stared at me, something flickering behind his eyes—something raw, something he’d been holding back for too long.

And then, suddenly, he cursed under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “Merlin, this is so bloody stupid, but—” He exhaled sharply, looking away. “I liked you first, alright? Before Reg. Before anything. And I just—” He gestured vaguely, like the words were physically painful to get out. “I waited too long. And then you and Regulus just worked, and I thought—hell, I don’t know what I thought. That I’d get over it? That I’d be fine just being your friend? But then…”

He hesitated.

And something in my chest tightened.

“Then what?” I asked, softer now.

He swallowed hard. “Then I realized it wasn’t just you.”

The words hung between us. Heavy. Shattering.

I had no idea what to say. But before I could even process it, before I could breathe, a voice cut through the tension like a knife.

“You realized what?”

James’s face paled. I turned—Regulus stood in the doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“Reg—”

“Don’t.” His voice was steady, controlled—but I knew him well enough to recognize the undercurrent of emotion.

James swallowed hard. “Look, I—I didn’t mean to—”

Regulus tilted his head. “Didn’t mean to what?”

James hesitated for half a second too long.

Regulus took a step forward. “Tell Florence how you felt about her,” he said, voice sharper now. “Or realize you might feel something for me?”

James flinched, jaw clenched. “Both.”

Silence.

I held my breath, watching Regulus’s face for any sign of what he was thinking. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, he exhaled.

“I see,” he said simply.

James ran a hand over his face. “Reg, I—”

But Regulus just shook his head. Not in anger. Not in frustration. Just...understanding.

And then, to my absolute shock, the corner of his mouth quirked up in something resembling amusement. “James Potter,” he murmured, almost like he was laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “You are, truly, the most infuriating person I have ever met.”

James blinked. “That’s—not exactly the reaction I was expecting.”

Regulus hummed. “Neither was realizing that I might feel something for you, too.”

James froze. My breath hitched.

Regulus glanced between us, then let out a small, exasperated sigh. “We are so bad at this.”

A short, startled laugh broke from James. “Yeah,” he admitted. “We really, really are.”

I let out a breath, a slow smile spreading across my face. “We’ll figure it out,” I said, reaching for Regulus’s hand.

James hesitated—uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to.

Regulus rolled his eyes and grabbed James’s wrist, dragging him closer. “You’re an idiot,” he muttered.

James grinned. “Yeah. But I’m your idiot now.”

Regulus groaned. “God help me.”

And just like that, something clicked into place—something that had been waiting to happen for far too long.

──────────── · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ────────────

🪽 — what is your s/o from? (made-up, media, book, movie etc…) and why did you feel drawn to them?

Regulus Black and James Potter are characters from the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. They are part of the Marauders-era storyline, which takes place before the events of the main series. James is well-known as Harry Potter’s father, while Regulus is Sirius Black’s younger brother and a former Death Eater who secretly defected.

I was first drawn to Regulus because he carried an air of mystery—misunderstood, dark, and brooding in a way that made him feel untouchable. I've always been drawn to characters who seem to exist in the shadows, the ones who don’t get the love and recognition they deserve within their stories. There’s something compelling about peeling back their layers, finding the depth beneath their cold exteriors, and realizing that beneath all the quiet intensity is a heart that feels deeply, even if the world doesn’t always see it.

James, however, was a love that snuck up on me. It took time—longer than I expected. But as I explored different perspectives and saw how others viewed him, I began to understand him in a way I hadn’t before. His relentless energy, his unwavering loyalty, and that signature blend of confidence and chaos started to feel less like arrogance and more like a genuine, unfiltered love for life and the people in it. The constant banter, the way he plays the role of the annoying best friend who refuses to be ignored—it’s exactly the kind of dynamic I love. But what truly won me over was the realization that, beneath all the teasing and dramatics, James is someone who knows how to be soft when it truly matters.

🪞 — what are some photos that depict your relationship with your s/o?

──────────── · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ────────────

me and regulus -

me and james -

the three of us -

──────────── · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · ────────────

made by @g1rlsp1ckins

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

Me: *holds 2 of clubs to my dome*

Me: you like thick women for breeding warriors

Him: is there any bad Wu-Tang?

Me: I did that on purpose

[imreidswifey]

𝐀 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 2) 💋

Summary: When Spencer Reid’s secret partner, Y/n, visits the BAU for lunch, the team finally gets to meet the person who stole the genius’s heart.

———————————————————————————

–The Great Introduction–

It had been a week since the infamous “lip gloss incident,” and Spencer Reid was still the subject of relentless teasing from his colleagues. Despite his best efforts to deflect the attention, the BAU team had latched onto the mystery of his secret partner with the determination of seasoned profilers on a high-stakes case.

The teasing reached its peak one morning during their usual coffee break.

“So, genius,” Morgan began, leaning casually against Reid’s desk, “when are we going to meet the person responsible for your fabulous makeover last week?”

“I told you,” Reid said, his tone exasperated but tinged with a fond smile, “it wasn’t a makeover. It was a mistake.”

“Pretty sure the real mistake is you not bringing them in to meet us,” Prentiss teased, taking a sip of her coffee. “We’ve got questions, Reid. Important questions.”

“Like how they put up with you quoting statistics during romantic moments,” Garcia quipped, dramatically typing on her laptop. “Or if they’re as cute as I’m imagining. Spoiler alert: I’m imagining very cute.”

“Enough,” Reid groaned, slumping in his chair. “It’s not a big deal. I—”

The ringing of his phone cut him off. He glanced at the screen and immediately straightened, his lips twitching into a smile. “It’s Y/n,” he said, standing up and walking a few steps away for some privacy.

“Oh, it’s Y/n,” Morgan mocked, grinning as the team erupted into laughter.

Reid shot them a look over his shoulder but didn’t respond. Instead, he answered the call. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Y/n’s warm voice came through. “You free for lunch today? I thought I’d stop by and surprise you.”

Reid hesitated, glancing at his teammates, who were clearly straining to hear his side of the conversation. “You… want to come here? To the BAU?”

“Yeah. Unless you’d rather not. I don’t want to intrude or—”

“No, no,” he interrupted quickly. “It’s fine. Great, actually. I’d love that.”

“Okay. See you soon,” Y/n said with a soft laugh.

When Reid hung up, he turned to find the entire team staring at him expectantly.

“Well?” Prentiss prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“That was Y/n,” Reid admitted reluctantly.

“And?” Garcia leaned forward eagerly.

“And they’re coming by for lunch,” he said, bracing himself for the inevitable explosion.

“Oh my god!” Garcia practically squealed. “We get to meet them!”

“About time,” Morgan said, clapping Reid on the shoulder.

Reid sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Please don’t embarrass me.”

“No promises,” Prentiss said, grinning.

The Meeting

An hour later, Y/n stepped into the BAU bullpen, holding a brown paper bag and looking slightly nervous. They were dressed casually but neatly, their eyes scanning the room until they landed on Reid. A warm smile spread across their face, and they waved hesitantly.

Reid practically tripped over his own feet as he hurried to greet them. “Y/n, hey,” he said, his voice softening in a way that didn’t go unnoticed by the team.

“Hey, Spence,” Y/n said, handing him the bag. “I brought sandwiches. I didn’t know what you’d want, so I got a few options.”

“That’s… thoughtful,” Reid said, his cheeks tinged pink.

The team exchanged knowing looks before Morgan finally took the initiative. “Well, well, look who it is,” he said, striding over with a wide grin. “You must be Y/n.”

Y/n blinked, surprised by the sudden attention. “Uh, yes. And you’re… Derek, right?”

Morgan’s grin widened. “Oh, you’ve heard of me.”

“Spencer talks about all of you,” Y/n said, their nervousness easing as they spoke. “He’s told me a lot about the team.”

“Only good things, I hope,” Prentiss said, joining them with a smirk.

“All good,” Y/n assured her. “You must be Emily.”

“That’s me,” Prentiss said. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Reid’s been keeping you a secret.”

Y/n laughed. “Not intentionally, I hope.”

“Definitely intentionally,” Garcia said, appearing beside them with her usual flair. “I’m Penelope Garcia, resident tech goddess and Morgan’s platonic work wife. And you’re adorable, by the way.”

Y/n blushed, smiling. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, Penelope.”

“And I’m Rossi,” David Rossi said as he approached, his tone warm and fatherly. “Welcome to the madhouse.”

“Thanks,” Y/n said with a chuckle. “It’s great to meet all of you.”

As the introductions continued, Y/n’s nerves melted away. The team was welcoming and friendly, their teasing of Reid balanced with genuine affection.

“So, how’d you meet the genius?” Morgan asked, leaning casually against a desk.

Y/n glanced at Reid, who gave them a small nod, signaling that it was okay to answer. “We met at a coffee shop. I was reading a book, and he came over to tell me I was reading the wrong edition.”

The team burst into laughter, and Reid groaned. “I wasn’t trying to be rude,” he protested. “The edition they had was missing two chapters!”

“It’s okay, Spence,” Y/n said, smiling. “I thought it was sweet. And you were right, by the way. The other edition was much better.”

“Classic Reid,” Prentiss said, shaking her head.

Lunch with the Team

The group gathered around the round table in the break room, sharing sandwiches and stories. Y/n fit seamlessly into the dynamic, laughing at the team’s jokes and adding their own anecdotes about Reid’s quirks.

“So,” Garcia said, leaning forward conspiratorially, “how do you deal with him quoting obscure facts during dates?”

Y/n laughed. “Oh, I love it. Did you know that the speed of light is exactly 299,792,458 meters per second? I do, because Spencer told me during our first dinner together.”

The team roared with laughter as Reid turned crimson. “I was explaining why candlelight flickers,” he mumbled.

“And it was adorable,” Y/n said, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

The moment didn’t go unnoticed by the team. Morgan caught Reid’s eye and gave him an approving nod, while Prentiss whispered something to Garcia that made her grin.

By the end of lunch, Y/n had won everyone over. As they stood to leave, Morgan clapped Reid on the back. “You did good, kid. Real good.”

Reid smiled, his chest swelling with pride. “I know,” he said softly, watching as Y/n said their goodbyes to the team.

As Y/n and Reid walked toward the elevators, Y/n glanced up at him. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No,” Reid admitted, his lips curving into a smile. “Not bad at all.”

And for the rest of the day, the bullpen buzzed with the joy of knowing their favorite genius had found someone who truly understood—and adored—him.

sorry for the late part two I just saw your guys comments…💋

[petertingle-yipyip]

Question…? - Miguel O’hara

//the miguel brainrot brought this piece to life tbr. it’s kinda just for shits and giggles but there might be more. depends on how this one does//

Pairing: Miguel O’hara x Reader

Word Count: 3,868

Summary: The latest recruit to the Spider Society hits a bit too close to home for its head honcho. But with great power comes great persistence to get answers.

You landed on the roof of your building and pulled your mask up, wiping a hand down your slightly sweaty face. You looked at the bright display of the neon billboard across the alley and saw the breaking news story of your latest bust of the local Midnight Sons crime syndicate. You smirked slightly as you watched the reporter talk to the police who had to reluctantly admit that you, Arachne, had caught them. He tried to dance around it but the fact that your webs were covering the background made it obvious.

Just as you were about to head inside, you felt a tingle shoot down your spine. An unfamiliar yet not unwelcome sensation crawled across your skin so you quickly replaced your mask and spun around, web shooters ready. Instead of being greeted by a foe, you were greeted with a large and seemingly unstable orange circle that vaguely resembled a doorway.

Before you could say anything, you had to drop to your stomach as a motorbike came barreling through. You rolled to your back and flicked a quick burst from either wrist to latch a web to both tires. You kicked yourself back and pulled the bike with you, forcing its rider to disengage and land on the opposite side of the roof.

“Not bad.” She said, though her back was still to you as you stood slowly. “I knew you were quick, but I didn’t think you’d be that quick.”

“Right… And you are?” You asked carefully. You didn’t feel she was a threat, but something about the way she triggered that sixth sense made you tense. “I mean, you came at me full speed on a motorcycle so you owe me that.”

“Jessica Drew.” She turned to face you and the first thing you noticed was her belly. “And I’m just like you.”

“I’m not pregnant!” You decided quickly, a hand covering your stomach.

She laughed and shook her head. After a second, you hesitantly laughed with her. “I meant the Spider Woman thing.”

“Ah…” You nodded before slowly lifting your mask again. “That’s what I felt?”

“Mhmm..”

“I thought I was the only one.”

“Yes and no.” She moved towards her bike, which you hurried over to beside her. “If you’re interested, there’s someone I think you should meet.”

You followed her through the orange and ended up in a massive complex. There were dozens upon dozens of variations of… you.

A cat version. A monkey version. A dinosaur. A plushie. A cyborg. An avatar. A video game. Other girls, other guys. Any type of Spider variation you could imagine, it was there.

As you were taking it all in, you were hit with the sharpest pain you’d ever had in your life. It took over your entire body, felt as if you were being yanked apart and haphazardly put back together. Your insides felt rearranged and your head spun violently while everything seemed to be ignited. But the pain only lasted for a second.

Jessica told you it was your body glitching from being outside your own universe, which she also explained was granted the official title of Earth-3505. She slipped a blue band around your wrist and you felt every ounce of tension in your body disappear. She explained the device on her wrist, how it kept her from glitching while allowing for travel to any dimension.

You had to admit. All the tech and different universes blew every single theory and experiment you had ever known out of the water.

You were talking with Jessica through the long walk down a rather dark and drafty hall that led to a wide open work area. She called to the man on the platform, which began to lower at an agonizingly slow pace. Awkwardly, you rocked on your heels and fiddled with your web shooters, checking the cartridges and scratching away the dried remnants from your earlier endeavors. You tugged the neck of your suit and dusted imaginary dirt off before running fingers through your hair and giving it a small shake in an effort to look a bit more presentable.

When you heard the gears click into place you looked back and found yourself in utter shock, despite him not even facing you yet.

And as someone who would fight the Bloodstones, a werewolf, and the literal avatar of a god of the moon, it took a lot to render you speechless.

The man on the platform was massive. The width of his chest and shoulders alone was at least the size of a twin mattress. His height towered over yours and you could tell even from the distance he was at. His upper body narrowed ridiculously into his waist, though his legs were proportionately built as well. And covering that Hercules-esque physique was a fitted red and blue suit, just like everyone else you had seen in that building.

So why hadn’t he given you the same tingle Jessica did?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when an elbow came roughly into your ribs.

“What?” You asked quickly, an innocent obliviousness in your voice.

“Introduce yourself.” Jessica hissed.

“Right.” You nodded and took a hesitant step forward. “I’m Y/N, from Earth 35-something.”

“3505.” She whispered.

“Yeah, sorry. Anyways, I’m like you and her and everyone else here… Back home I’m called Arachne, like the.. The myth. I’m sorry, are you not gonna face me?”

“¿Mande?” He said sharply and the sound of his voice drove your pulse to jump.

“If you’re gonna have your back to me the whole time, why am I even here?” You pushed, though your resolve was slowly shattering as you watched him turn around.

The room may have been dimly lit but you could see what looked like a red tint to his eyes.

“Why are you here?” He asked tightly as he hopped off the platform and stalked closer to you. You swallowed hard and flattened your two middle fingers against your palm to feel the trigger for your webs. “Why are-“

His sentence cut off abruptly when he got a few feet away from you.

“Miguel?” Jessica asked from beside you. You had forgotten she was there but you felt a bit more relaxed to know you weren’t alone in that room. “What is it?”

“What did you say your name was?” He asked. His words were intended to be more gentle, more intimate maybe, but they still had enough of an edge to keep your fingers where they were.

“Y/N… And you’re..?”

His face fell at your uncertainty, though you doubted Jessica noticed. He recovered rather quickly, as if your words reminded him of something painful. Something he already knew.

“Miguel O’hara.” He stood a bit taller, if that was even possible.

“It’s nice to meet you… You built all of this?” You asked lamely in hopes to fill the silence that you felt would suffocate you if you ignored.

“Yeah.. It’s a way to preserve the multiverse. Everyone here was hand picked to serve a bigger cause, to protect each other’s universe and canons.”

“I assume that’ll get explained if I get in?” You turned to Jessica who nodded with a small, amused smile.

“¿Perdóname, si entras?” His head cocked as the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk that you felt was sarcastic. “No.”

“What?” You and Jessica asked at the same time.

“No.” He enunciated, hands at his waist and leaning forward.

“Why not?” You asked angrily, stepping forward with no regard to the size difference. “I can take anyone here!”

“Miguel, she’s really good.” Jessica tried earnestly. “I think you should give her a shot.”

“No.”

“C’mon.” She pressed.

“No.”

“What are you afraid of?” You challenged suddenly and the glare he shot your way made you hesitate.

“Afraid?” He laughed. “Afraid.. I’m not afraid.”

“Then what?”

“She looks just like her.” Miguel said, more to Jessica than you.

“Who?” She asked softly.

Miguel shot her a different look than the one he gave you. This one has more longing, more pain. You looked like someone he used to know. Likely someone he lost.

“Lyla.” Jessica said softly, waiting a moment for a hologram woman in a fur coat to appear at her shoulder. “Show Y/N around a little more, please.”

“Who- Oh.” The hologram spoke before disappearing and reappearing in front of you. She leaned in and lifted her heart shaped glasses before blinking away and reappearing up at Miguel’s side. A quick back and forth of hushed comments brought her back to you as she ushered you out of the room.

Lyla spoke quickly to you, bouncing around within your field of vision. She pointed out different Spider People, different villains. She showed you the machine that sent people home and the training center. While you were wandering the vast exercise area, you met two boys playfully roughhousing who seemed to create the golden retriever with black cat meets boys will be boys dynamic.

“Ooh! Who’s the new girl?” One of them ran up to you with a palpable excitement.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You smiled and the other one leaned in close.

“Look at that.” He said with a small smirk, seemingly changing color with each sentence. “Got little fangs and all. That’s mad.”

“Whaaaat? Let me see!” The first one pushed the taller one aside and replaced him, though he leaned in significantly closer.

“I’m guessing these aren’t normal for Spiderman.” You laughed and gently pushed him back. “What’re your names?”

“Hobie, Hobie Brown.” He offered you a short salute.

“Pavitr Prabhakar.” He gave an extravagant bow. “How long have you been a spider person?”

You blew out a sigh and tried to calculate the numbers. “A few years? It happened my senior year of high school, and then the two years there... And then.. All I know is its been a while. You guys?”

“Couple months.” Pavitr answered with a small hop. “It’s been so easy.”

“Three years.” Hobie answered simply. “And yeah, it’s not bad. Your universe a mess, then?”

“I think mine is a weird one based on what you guys have said.” You answered awkwardly. “Werewolves, swamp things, Egyptian gods, monster hunters.”

“Sounds like a fantasy book.” Hobie scoffed.

“That’s the Midnight Sons for you.” You shrugged. “There’s normal stuff too, like other vigilantes. Daredevil and Black Cat and the Widow.”

“Were they bitten by a spider too?” Pavitr added with wide eyes.

“Who, Widow? Not that I know of.”

“How’d you get the little-“ Hobie made a vague fang gesture. “You a vampire, too?”

“Well, no.” You rubbed a hand over your mouth, suddenly embarrassed of your teeth.

“You’ve got everything else. Figured you had the little blood suckers and allat.”

“There’s rumors of one guy but I haven’t met him.. Actually, the spider that bit me was a mix between the same thing that created my world’s Goblin and just the radioactive spider. It was supposed to be able to cure something but…” You shrugged.

“Do they do anything?” Pavitr asked, still looking at your mouth intently. He slowly reached a finger forward so you leaned away and gently pushed his hand to the side.

“Uh..” Your brows furrowed. “Idunno.” You mumbled as you shrugged.

“You’ve never tried to bite anyone?” He laughed and Hobie facepalmed gently. “I totally would’ve.”

“I’ll try it when I get home.” You laughed slightly. You glanced around and noticed the AI woman - Lyla - was nowhere to be seen. “Can I ask you guys something?”

“Go for it.” Hobie nodded and Pavitr’s head bounced up and down like a bobble head.

“The little AI, Lyla… Does she see everything?” You asked quietly.

“You trynna do somtin’ you shouldn’t, aye?” Hobie quirked a brow.

“I wanna try to talk to Miguel but I get the feeling that she’ll keep me away.”

“Why?” Pavitr whispered loudly,

“Cause he sent me away, said I looked too much like someone.”

“Oy, Pav.” Hobie nudged the smaller boy before leaning down and plotting quietly. They went back and forth for a few moments before looking back at you. “Make it quick, yeah?”

“I owe you.” You grinned.

Pavitr and Hobie shared a small fist bump before Pavitr reached his fist towards you. You chuckled slightly and returned the gesture before the two ran off. It was only a few moments before sprinklers went off in the room. Lyla popped in and out of view, speaking rapidly and tapping small screens in front of her. She appeared in front of you, disheveled glasses and jacket hanging from her shoulders.

“Do. Not. Move.” She said firmly and you held hands up in surrender. She pointed two fingers at her eyes before pointing to you, gesturing up and down your body before disappearing again.

You leaned around slightly to ensure her digital frame was nowhere to be seen before you booked it out of the room. Your wet feet slipped on the sleek tiles so you opted to swing across the complex and back to Miguel’s workspace.

You wiped a damp hand across your face as you entered the hall again before you pulled yourself to the ceiling and crawled down the long corridor. Jessica left in a huff, muttering that he was unreasonable and that she wasn’t done. You watched her freeze and turn around, squinting her eyes in suspicion. You stayed still above her in hopes that she wouldn’t find you but with the water subtly dripping from your suit and hair, you thought you were caught. With a small smirk, she turned back and left.

You blew out a small sigh and continued down your path until you reentered Miguel’s wide open room. His back was towards the entrance as he vigorously typed and swiped various projections away. He was muttering to himself, broken Spanglish as he worked in that increasingly frazzled state. His head cocked over his shoulder as you clung to the space above the door.

“¿Qué estás haciendo?” He asked tightly, unable to face you fully. “And why are you wet?”

“I just…” You spoke, realizing you had no idea how to start. “May like some explanations.”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.” He spoke simply, clearly trying to shut down the conversation.

“Okay, but… What if I just ask some general questions that have simple answers? Is that okay? I mean, can I ask you a question? Well a couple, but you know what I mean.”

“Can you please stop, just for a second?“ He sighed and pressed his palms against the table. You pursed your lips slightly and drummed your fingers against the wall while you waited for him to say something. “You don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, do you?”

“I don’t usually have to beg like this.” You confessed. You shifted your feet and leaned your shoulders against the wall behind you, allowing your hands to aim webs at the edge of his platform. You pulled yourself over and stood in front of him. “Miguel, please…”

“Ay, dios mío. You sound just like her, too.” He spoke to himself, though the desperation in his voice was hard to miss.

“Listen, if you don’t want me here because whoever I remind you of, that’s not good enough of a reason.” You insisted. Your words finally got him to turn and face you, which really drove home just how big he was. You gave a nervous chuckle and crossed your arms in an attempt of defiance. “I can prove myself against anyone here. I know I can do this!”

“It’s not about whether you’re-“ He began before he leaned down closer. You pulled back and teetered the edge of the platform. “What was that?”

“You got a little close.” You defended with a shrug.

“Not that, cariño.” He shook his head. “Open your mouth.”

“Okay!” You said loudly, trying to push him by his chest. “That’s not how you- Ugh! Whatthehellare-“

Your words became an incomprehensible jumble of syllables when his hand came to your face, fingers pressing gently on your cheeks to keep your lips apart. His pointer finger was free to manipulate your upper lip, exposing one side of your mouth. With a satisfied smirk, he let you go.

“Thought so..” He offered a lazy smirk. “Lemme see your hands.”

“Is this like.. part of the initiation process or something?” You tried to joke as you held up one hand. He took it by your wrist and gave your palm a gentle prod, just missing the trigger for your web shooter. “What are you looking for?”

“You always talk this much?” He mumbled with a small eye roll as he let go of your hand.

“It’s just a question.” You muttered and poured slightly.

He sat back on the edge of a table behind him, allowing for a more even eye line. But even at the new lowered height, he was definitely taller than you.

“How can anyone focus around you?” He said with a shake of his head.

“I can put the mask on, if it helps.” You offered awkwardly, reaching for the side pouch you usually tucked it away in.

Miguel looked back at you and laughed. A seemingly genuine sound that, up until that moment, you weren’t entirely sure was possible.

You took the opportunity to move away from the edge of the platform and stand more in front of him. Your hands rested lazily behind you and you simply looked at him for a minute.

The obvious physical stature was still as intimidating as ever but there was something in his expression. Something haunted, something guilty. However, when his eyes met yours, there was a softness there. A certain longing.

How does anyone focus around you? You thought as you took in his features for a little longer.

“You always stare like that when you’re not talking?” His brows raised with a slight smile as his arms crossed over his chest.

“Not usually.” You answered with a shrug of one shoulder in an attempt to ignore the blush creeping across your cheeks. “I take it you didn’t find what you were looking for with my hand, but you didn’t send me away again so maybe that was a good thing… Maybe I can…”

“Go ahead and ask your questions.” He nodded, adding a tired sigh at the end as if to say he was giving in. You thought he was curious as to what you wanted to know.

“What’s the big deal about my teeth?”

“Your teeth..” He chuckled slightly. “Most of the spiders around here don’t have fangs, cariño.”

“Right but why do you care?”

“Cause I have them too.”

“What do yours do?”

“Paralysis. Yours?”

“Dunno.” You confessed. “I’ve never bit anyone. Can I see?”

“No.”

“C’mon!”

“No.”

“Fine.”

You flicked a web at his chest and yanked him to lean forward, earning a small Spanish exclamation from him. You kept hold of the web with one hand and put the other on his shoulder as you leaned in slightly. His eyes darted between yours in slight shock before he broke into a small smile, enough for you to see a moderately more pronounced version of the same teeth in your mouth.

“Woah.” You said quietly as your eyes drifted to where your webs met his suit. “Wait..”

“What is it?” He asked lowly and the tone sent a shiver down your spine.

“Your suit. It’s all tech?”

“Mhmm.”

“That’s so cool.” You breathed with a smile, which faded as you squinted and noticed a falter in the colors. “It’s like a projection, which means if I…” You gave another slight tug on your web and watched the distortion of the colors where your palm was pressed against him. You laughed slightly before looking back at Miguel.

The web suddenly snapped and you stumbled backwards. You looked down and saw the excess still wrapped around your wrist. The tensile strength was much stronger than that so it shouldn’t have betrayed you so suddenly. It had never failed before. Turning your head back to Miguel, you saw the projections from the pads of his fingers.

“You were looking for claws?” Your brows raised as your head jerked towards his hand. “You could’ve asked.”

He simply shrugged.

“Let me ask you something…” He said calmly as he leaned back to his originally sitting position. “Why do you wanna be here so bad?”

“Good girl.” You gestured to yourself. “Sad boy.” You gestured to him and he shook his head with a scoff. You offered a small smile before wandering in a small circle, your back now to Miguel. “We all have this one thing going on.. And it’s always one thing after another, situations and circumstances and miscommunications. Losing people and losing fights, it’s all part of the job but… Honestly, I don’t know why. Maybe I just like the idea of not being alone, of not being the only one.”

You turned back to face him and saw he hadn’t looked away.

“It’d be nice to not be the only one with fangs, either.” You smiled, flashing your pointed teeth.

“You never told me why you’re wet.” He commented after a brief moment of silence.

“Oh.” You laughed nervously. “Funny story.”

You heard the muttered complaints come down the hall at the same time the tingle of another spider person hit your skin. Your eyes went wide when Lyla popped up in front of you, glaring at you with tightly crossed arms. You offered an innocent smile with hands up in surrender.

“Y/N!” Pavitr yelled with a wide grin as he entered the room, Hobie sulking behind him. The boy turned and began patting his friend’s shoulder excitedly. “It worked!”

“What worked?” Miguel turned to you.

“Those two-“ Lyla said angrily as she appeared in front of Miguel and pointed at the two spidermen. “-set of a fire alarm in the training center.”

“And that was your idea?” He looked to you again.

“Nah, mate.” Hobie answered casually. “Was all me.”

“You?” He shouted and then wiped a hand down his face. “I don’t- I can’t deal with you right now. Both of you, go help mop up and dry the training center. Just- Get out of my sight.”

Hobie offered you a salute before sauntering out, Pavitr quick on his heels. You smiled to yourself before you hopped off the platform, shooting a quick web to help control your descent.

“Where are you going?” Miguel called after you, causing your stride to pause. You spun to face him with a playful smile.

“To help clean up.. They did it so I could talk to you, after all.” You shrugged.

“Come back here when you’re done.” He tossed a device your way, the same device the other spiders had around their wrists.

“Gonna miss me already?” You teased as you fit it to your wrist, replacing the temporary band you were given.

“Always, cariño.”

You realized you hadn’t found out anything in regards to who you looked like from Miguel’s past, but with the confirmation that you’d come back, you figured you’d find out in time.

[owl-it-here]

I need an AU happening during the founding era where Tobirama and Izuna are doing suspicious things™, but like in Phineas and Ferb, every time someone wants to tell about it to Madara and Hashirama, the problem in question magically disappears or is dismissed by them as nonsense (an extra plus if Hashirama and Madara themselves cannot tell each other about their suspicions concerning the other one's brother)

something along the lines of:

Hashirama: Madara, why did you never tell me that Izuna is friends with the emperor! Madara: …, because they are not in a friendly relationship? Hashirama, frowns slightly: Then how does Izuna know that the Emperor has stomach problems after eating pork? Madara, after hesitation: He once mentioned that he gets along well with the palace medic…. Hashirama, satisfied enough with his explanation: Oh a medic! That's fortunate because I wanted to send him 15kg as a gift. Madara, in disbelief: You wanted to send 15kg of pork as a gift to the emperor! We would have come out as such cheapskates…. - - - Madara: I'm pretty sure your brother is trying to create a zombie. Hashirama, without a second thought: Impossible, the last time he did it was after the death of our last brother and he promised not to try to revive them again. Madara, not allowing himself to be knocked off track: But I saw him in the graveyard mumbling strange things…. Hashirama, smiling: Tobira’ said something earlier about expanding cemetery space and burial rights! You never told me that the Uchiha burn their dead! Madara: How was I supposed to tell you that when we were at war!

both chatter enough that they are unable to return to the original problem

random shinobi: Hashirama-sama, Madara-sama, it's Tobirama-sama and Izuna-sama again! Hashirama and Madara, simultaneously: Did something happened to them! Are they fighting again? Random shinobi, in fear: Not this time! But Tobirama-sama said they were going hunting together! Hashirama, happy: But that's good, they're finally starting to get along better! Madara, scoffing: Stop it, as much as it pains me to admit it they have been getting along for a while now - they're just strangely very expressive…. which is something I didn't expect from Tobiram exactly random shinobi, with a slight disbelief that their leaders still do not understand the relationship between their younger brothers: But the problem here is not that they do it as a pair! Just what they're doing together! The companion of a random shinobi, also a shinobi: They were talking about heading to confront Kyubi! Madara, scowling: I'm sure they just wanted to scare you because they knew you were eavesdropping! Izuna has been doing that since he was two! Hashirama, excited: Izuna too! Tobira as well! Hashirama, directing the words to their shinobi: Tobirama promised not to fight any of the tailed beasts. You have nothing to worry about! *changing the scene to Tobirama and Izuna standing in front of Kyubi* Tobirama and Izuna, at the same time: so we wanted to ask… Izuna, interrupting: because we have a bet! Tobirama, focused: Which came first the tailed beasts or the chakra? Kurama, wondering why these two shinobi latched onto him without a fight and are asking strange questions: ??? *Tobirama and Izuna had simply considered the chicken and egg problem and wanted to know the answer from a trusted source*

[mae-gi-writes]

everything that i'll never be | kim mingyu . seventeen

You'll never be his first and that bothers you, that she had his heart before you ever did.

genre: angst, relationship problems, insecure! reader. Mentions of self-harm.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

She's so much better than you. In so many ways.

There's no way you can compete. You're not even competition to her. Come on, it's almost as if trying to compare a Ferrari to a stupidly tiny honda that would break down whenever it had to breach the motorway.

This is how envious you are of the girl that once had your boyfriend's heart.

And you hate yourself for it, because every argument that arises is because of that sole reason; you can't stand the thought of her having him first. You can't stand the thought that Mingyu had the opportunity, all his firsts, with a girl that was someone other than you.

Which is why the words suddenly fly out of your mouth one day without warning.

"How was she like? Your ex?"

The words sound raw and painful, even coming from your mouth. You hate it. You hate yourself the most at this particular moment. Even more so when Mingyu stops in mid-action and blinks at you like you've just told him you'd committed a first-degree murder.

It's not that it's surprising. It's just that-- more so -- it's been six years. Six years already, and you still haven't gotten over it. So there is, ultimately, a problem. With you.

Mingyu lowers the knife he's been using to chop the carrots into tiny thin slices. He suggested bringing duck to your annual family dinner this Christmas, which you thought was a good idea, until you realized the amount of preparation that came along with it.

So here you are, on a beautiful 24th December night with the snow falling like soft petals along the sky line, making sure that the duck that you've put into the oven a few minutes ago isn't roasting itself to death.

"Why are you asking now?" is Mingyu's question.

You shrug half-heartedly in an attempt to show him that it isn't that much of a big deal whether he answers your question or not. Though it is, as you keep your eyes trailed on the timer on your phone, "I had a nightmare," you admit.

"About?" his eyebrow raises a fraction, body stilling to await your answer.

You struggle to find something coherent, put together, that doesn't sound so lame once you say it out loud because god forbid it is the most childish thing to think of when it's been six years of your relationship.

And yet, she's still the gap, that empty space, that lingers between the two of you like the unsaid corpse filling the room.

"About you," you pause, "and her."

Mingyu lets out a soft breath, "Y/N, we can't be having this conversation six years down the line. I love you, and I'm with you--"

"I know that." he doesn't have to talk to you like you're a child.

"Then why are you still on about her when clearly you're the one I've chosen to be with for the rest of my life?" the hurt in his voice is real and it makes your heart ache with guilt. You shouldn't have asked him anything in the first place. You know, more than anyone, that Mingyu would steal the moon for you had you asked for it. It's undoubtable, the love that he bears for you, the way his eyes find yours across the room like you're the sun that makes his earth rotate.

He continues now, pent-up frustration laced in his alto. Almost like he's about to cry, "it hurts me too, to hear you talk about her over and over again. It gets tiring after a while, Y/N. I'm tired of it, honestly."

"Alright," tears prick at your eyelids but you refuse to blink, gaze permanently latched onto the oven as you fight against the flood of emotion building in the pit of your stomach, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you anything, but--"

"it's not doing you any good either. So why do you do this to yourself? What triggered it?" he's on a roll now, not caring what you have scrambled for an answer, the need to hear your reason a priority in comparison to the millions of excuses you have stacked up against your tongue, "because this isn't about just the nightmare, is it? You've mentioned her at least once during these two weeks and I--I'm tired of it, Y/N. I don't want to keep going through that. She's a part of my past and yes, we were in love once. But I don't love her anymore. You're the one I chose to be with," he holds up the peeler and the carrot in evidence, "isn't that exactly what I'm doing right now? Why do you have to ruin this for us?"

"I--" his speech hits you like a truck. You hadn't expected Mingyu to just spit out his feelings without filter or remorse, which makes it even worse as you try to struggle and comprehend what his words mean exactly. The ache in your chest grows. For a moment, you can't breath, the soft pants stinging the back of your throat as it burns with effort of restraining tears.

You swallow thickly, harsh gulps of air that makes you shudder. Finally, you manage to whisper out a soft, "I'm sorry, Mingyu. I shouldn't-- I shouldn't have bought this up. You're right. I'm just--I'm just a walking time bomb and I'm pathetic--" you shake your head, the tears now spilling down your cheeks as you bite down onto your lower lip. You catch sight of Mingyu's stance faltering ever so slightly, but you move back, as if the physical distance might help you keep your broken heart in check, '--I'm really sorry, Mingyu."

You don't wait for him to answer before you're swiveling on your feet and dashing through the open doorway of your bathroom. It's not much, but it's enough physical space for you to lock the door and slide down onto the floor.

You let the sobs take over, your shoulders hunching over your knees as you start crying. Once you do, you can't stop. You can't.

Because the truth is, you're scared.

You're scared that you'll never be enough for Mingyu and that -- whatever happened in the ktichen -- is the exact proof of that. You're not her. She's --gentle and kind and just agrees to everything that Mingyu ays without putting up a fight. And they made a cute couple, and she's prettier. Prettier than you'll ever be and you wonder what Mingyu even saw in you in the first place.

And she's his first. Will always be his first. Something that you'll never be, no matter how hard you try.

You're so focused on feeling your body shatter with tears and pain and guilt from the past that you don't hear Mingyu's voice until he starts knocking against the door.

"Please," he murmurs, "can we just talk?"

"I'm fine," you blubber out, "please just leave me alone. I really don't want to talk about this right now."

"Y/N, I didn't mean to hurt you, what I meant was--"

"I know already, Mingyu. Just stop." you sniffle and wipe your snot with the back of your hand, "I got it. It's me. I'm the problem. I'll always be the problem."

"That's not what I said, don't put words in my mouth--"

"Just leave me alone." And as if that might help, you whisper, "please." So he does. you hear his footsteps retract after a few beats of agonizing silence, and when he does walk away, you slump back into a small puddle of broken pieces of your heart as you try to hold it all together.

But it's not a memory that you can erase with just a few beers or some good sleep. It's a stain that will last forever, and you're not quite sure how you'll deal with that.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Hey Y/N?"

Your head rises from the slump of your arms. You're not quite sure how long you've been in the bathroom.

Mingyu knocks. You let out a sigh, but don't say anything. Nothing feels right at the moment, no words can seem to fill the empty, now awkward space between you and Mingyu.

"Y/N, I can leave you alone if you want," he pauses, "but...do you mind if I use the bathroom? I kinda...need to pee."

Fuck. Of course. Just when you're about to lose your mind and go on an existential crisis.

You unlock the bathroom after a beat of silence, not even bothering to look up at his face as you sidestep your boyfriend and make your way to the couch. You plop down onto it, hearing the sound of the door shut close as you find your usual navy blanket. It's warm and comforting, wrapping you up in its warmth as the toilet flushes, Mingyu's coughs reaching the living room area. The scent of roasted duck fills the room and you sniff appreciatively. Despite it all, it seems that the food has survived, a proof that no matter how much humans may suffer, they could still go about and do their things right.

"Y/N."

You jump slightly, turning your head in his direction but allowing your eyes to stray along his shirt. The silence answers in your stead.

"How are you feeling?"

You shrug once more. How are you even supposed to feel?

It's a weird contortion of things that make you want to hurl the living room chair at the tv and one that makes you want to curl up in bed and cry and cry and cry.

The couch dips under Mingyu's weight once he joins you on the couch. Still, you don't look at him, rather deciding that picking on your nails is a better option.

"Y/N," he says once more, before his big hand is reaching for yours and stopping your actions with a gentle grip, "don't do that. You're going to hurt yourself."

"That's the whole point," you mutter to yourself, though it's not quiet enough that he doesn't pick on it.

He squeezes your hand in response, "we talked about this before, didn't we? The nervous hand-picking."

"Can you just--" your voice raises, as if in a holler, only to die mid-way up your throat. You slump against the couch. You're tired and overwhelmed, and it shows.

The silence seems to stretch out before you, with only the slow hum of the fridge keeping you company as you keep on staring at the blank tv screen. How have you come to this? How are you fighting about someone that isn't even in the picture anymore?

Ah yes, because you decided to re-open that door and let yourself wonder, picture, your boyfriend with the likes of her when you know it's only going to induce more pain.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, or how to feel,” Mingyu starts, his voice shattering the silence like glass. “But just so that you know, every time you talk about this — about her — it hurts me too, because she’s not my present and I’m not in love with her, not anymore. You talking about it makes me uncomfortable,” he peers over at your face, “do you understand that, Y/N?” He says it gently, all his words without bite.

“Then maybe if you had just talked it through with me without avoiding my questions all the time, maybe we wouldn’t be here,” you shoot back, “maybe you like to take the easy way out a little too much.”

“I did give you the chance to talk about it. Remember that night when I told you to ask me anything about her that you wanted to know about?”

Another onset of tears builds at the back of your throat. Why is he doing this to you? What have you ever done to deserve this?

You turn away from him almost instinctively. This time, Mingyu lets you do your thing, not even bothering to try and call your name and honestly, you don’t mind. You need some space to cry it out and be with yourself for a little while.

There’s so much you want to tell him: why did he even break up with her in the first place? Why did he choose you instead? Would things have been different if you hadn’t told him of your feelings?

Would you have been happier right now, if you’d never been together?

ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s been a few days and you feel like a corpse.

Your life is a walking nightmare, your mind plagued by nothing but the pain of realizing you’re a second option to your boyfriend. You wish that he could walk in your shoes, only to get a glimpse of what’s going on inside your head. In any case, life feels dull and void of colour in contrast to the lights blazing across the streets to celebrate the new year’s coming up.

Mingyu doesn’t offer to talk it through and you take it as his way of telling you he’s not interested in your bullshit. So wrapping yourself up in your thickest blanket, you barely leave the flat on the days to come, if only for groceries. After all, you don’t see the point when your world is crumbling.

It’s on a Wednesday afternoon that Mingyu sends you a text while he’s at work. You receive it in mid-workout, frowning slightly as the message pops up on the screen.

Mingyu: do you have time this afternoon? Can we talk?

You type back your reply with a mere “yes” before resuming your squats with even more conviction. You decide that you have to brace yourself for anything that might happen, considering that you really did fuck up this time.

Will your heart be able to take it if he tells you to break it off?

All thoughts and memories of what would be your wedding, the concepts you’d conjured, the white dress that you’d fantasized over. All those things seem awash with the pain of knowing that maybe this won’t become a reality.

That hurts.

The afternoon crawls by at a snail’s pace and you spend it lumbering back and forth across the hallway as your brain tricks you into concocting all possible scenarios that might unfold; you and Mingyu breaking up is at the forefront of your mind, no matter how much you try to steer yourself away from it.

The door creaks open to signal Mingyu’s arrival. You freeze, fingers finding purchase onto your shirt as you grip its corners, panic suddenly overwhelming your senses.

He’s here, and he hasn’t greeted you yet.

You’re not sure how your heart will take it.

“Y/N?”

The scuff of his boots squeak against the silence of the corridor as he pulls them off. Small a small gesture, which holds so much meaning once you realize you might never hear it again.

You force out a reply, “yes?”

A few moments later, your boyfriend appears looking disheveled and, to your surprise, holding a bouquet of roses.

“Sorry if they’re a bit wimpy,” he says sheepishly while handing the flowers over, and you hope he hasn’t taken note of how your hands are trembling, “I was late to pick them up from the florist’s.”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes. You looked up at him, eyelashes glimmering as your vision slowly blurred, “why?” You murmured.

“Because,” he shrugs then, a small gentle smile making its way to his face, “I know you’ve been going through a rough patch, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be taken care of.”

You couldn’t help it.

You burst into tears.

And Mingyu holds on to you as you sob and soband keep on sobbing. All the pain, the fear of losing him, the thought of never being enough… all of these mesh into you and cras through your body in waves that rocks your entire ecosystem. Mingyu is there through it all, murmuring soft encouraging words as he rocks you back and forth against his chest.

The crying stops at some point, leaving you numb and tired, a slumped figure that leans against your boyfriend while he’s gently pawing away at the caked tears along your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur out, breaths shaking from emotion.

But Mingyu shakes his head, “it’s okay.”

“It’s not—okay, and I shouldn’t have acted this way,” you whisper out, “and I’m sorry if I keep pestering you about her but the truth is, I’m scared I might never be enough for you, Mingyu, because I’m not. You—You deserve everything.”

Mingyu stays silent, still brushing the tears away as you wait for his answer. He finally turns you to him, holds you close in his lap so that there’s no chance of escape even if you wanted to.

In his dark eyes tou see your reflection; a disheveled maniac looking like she’s been haunted for days.

Mingyu probably thinks so too.

“I understand,” he starts off softly, “how hard it is for you to imagine me with other people, it sucks. And it’s not great, especially when you know these people.”

Your chest aches, another pang of hurt ringing through your heart at the mention of her. You suck in a breath, but he continues:

“But I think otherwise. I think she made me realize that maybe, she’s not what I want, nor what I need,” something softens in his eyes then, hands squeezing your waist, “what I need is right here, and nowhere else, Y/N. So you can cry about not being the first, but trust me, I want to make you my last.”

Another sob racks its way up your throat. You blink furiously, hands finding purchase onto your sweater sleeves to bunch it up nervously, “do you—“ you stammer out the words, “do you mean that?”

Mingyu nods, the softest of smiles on his face, as your hands come up to wrap around his neck.

“You’re sure sure?” You peer up at him.

He chuckles, “I’m hundred percent sure.”

And proceeds to kiss your next words away as if to seal the deal, to show you that yes, you are the woman he’s been waiting for, the only one he’ll ever have to wait for.

Maybe that’s just a baby step in your world. You will have more days like this, more days of insecurity and fear and straight up panic. That’s not something that you fix overnight.

But for Mingyu, you’ll try anything to make your happy ending.

[shirefantasies]

the fellowship and how they would comfort you after a nightmare

Sure thing! This is such a cute idea I love it 🥺 no detail is given about the nature of the nightmare, so it’s pretty fluffy & open to interpretation 🥰

How The Fellowship Comforts You After a Nightmare

Aragorn

A pair of hands catch you about the waist. “Careful, beloved, you almost fell,” a deep voice whispers. Aragorn. You start despite the comforting voice, and he notices. Fixing you with a look of concern, he nods encouragingly, letting you speak; you tell him it was a nightmare. “What happened?” He asks, and he listens with great interest as you describe what you saw, what your mind forced you to experience. “The night can be false,” he tells you, moving so close you can feel his breath upon your ear, “bringing forth our greatest fears. But I am here with you in its darkness.” Nodding, you give a small smile as he takes your hands. “Come here,” he beckons, and acquiescing he tucks you into him, your back against his chest and his arm draped over you protectively.

Legolas

“Come." You hear Legolas before you see him, feel the way he reaches for you. Fingers intertwine with yours and shakily you reciprocate the grip. He raises you gently to a seated position, holding you lightly about the waist as you rotate in tandem. You’re facing the window, you realize, looking out into the night. “The stars,” Legolas breathes, “ever have they provided us with hope and comfort. They are looking out for us.” Mystic as his words are, you cannot help but admit that focusing on the distant, twinkling lights is calming, especially in Legolas’s arms. Silently, you nod. Legolas peers down at you thoughtfully before speaking again, pointing out stars and constellations until you are lulled into a much more peaceful sleep.

Boromir

A tear slides down your cheek, but before the lines to reality are fully crossed you feel a hand caress you, wipe the droplet gently. “What ever is the matter?” A voice you would recognize anywhere: Boromir. Before you can speak you’re latching onto him. Stroking the crown of your head, he questions again, this time asking if you are all right. “I will be,” you answer shakily. His lips fall to yours, firmly but with a sense of care, of loving. “Good. You have me until then, and, I’m afraid, long after that, too,” he jokes, pulling you closer. “That means more than you could ever know,” you mutter, nuzzling into his neck and giving in when he shifts to his back, your body draped over his like a warm blanket.

Gimli

Gasping and shooting upward, you are met with a shout that has you exclaiming as well, heart thundering in your chest. Suddenly, looking as though he’s been slapped, Gimli reaches for your hand, taking it in both of his. “Whatever is the matter, my jewel?” You cannot help cracking a feeble smile at his words of endearment even through the involuntary terror you’d awoken to. You apologize, tell him a nightmare had taken you. “Not if I have anything to say about it!” Gimli retorts. “Does it realize who it is up against?” Cue your beloved dwarf highlighting every amazing thing about you, from your beauty to your fighting spirit to simply poetry, all the wonderful things in this world you remind him of. “So if some dream thinks it can take you, it is sorely mistaken,” he concludes, looking satisfied at the upward tug of your lips, the bashful way your head falls against his chest.

Frodo

Stirs with immediate knowledge and understanding of what you are going through, having experienced it many times himself. No words are necessary, only the small, sad nod you share. Frodo's hand immediately trails up and down your arm, spreading grounding warmth across your skin. Your head falls back against his chest in defeat and with a deep breath, he pulls you flush against him, lips pressing against the crown of your head. Frodo never demands words, but listens with deep thoughtfulness if you wish to volunteer them and even shares any similarities in his so you know you are not alone. Especially if any of them embody your worst intrusive thoughts, the hardest things to share aloud. He only feels comfortable sharing the events of his own nightmares because of this dark bond you share, but seeing your face and feeling the caress of your hand upon his cheek is all it takes to cast a light back into his eyes, one that sparks the same for you.

Sam

Sam’s hold upon you is the first awareness you achieve as you are thrust back into reality, your eyelashes fluttering as you make out his form. The moment tension fades from your body, he’s pulling you into him, rocking you gently and running his hand through or over your hair. “Sam, I’m sorry -” “Shhh,” he soothes, smiling gently, almost tearfully, “there’s no need. There’s no need at all. Let’s just stay here.” At your nod, he rests his chin atop your head and tucks your bodies as close into each other as possible, limbs fitting together like puzzle pieces. The last sensation you remember before drifting off to sleep is Sam’s lips lightly pressed against your cheek.

Merry

A gasp alerts Merry to your plight, sending him shooting up into a seated position, looking around the room with concern before his eyes fall sympathetically to you. “Bad dream?” His voice is quiet, hoarse from lack of use. You just nod. “Well that won’t do,” he shoots back, sitting up further and extending a hand. Shakily you take it and are pulled up at his side, an arm slung around your shoulders. “In the Brandybuck household, bad dreams mean storytime,” he tells you with a growing smile, “so your choice. Family legend or embarrassing Pippin story?” You feel your lips curling upward, visions of your nightmare already fading. “Embarrassing Pippin story.” “Great choice! So this one time…well, we’d had one too many tankards, I’ll confess, but I was well until Pippin…”

Pippin

Does not wake up at your first stirring, but as you shift you feel his body move alongside you, turning to face your way. “Are you all right?" He whispers when you fall into his gaze, distress clear upon your face that you both feel and see mirrored in his. “Nightmare,” is all you have to whisper before you’re wrapped up completely in Pippin’s embrace, his legs tangling with yours as his arms wind around you. A smile breaks through on your face when you feel him nuzzle into you with his nose, leading you to snuggle in closer against his soft curls. “I’m always going to be here for you,” you hear him whisper, feel his warm breath as he speaks, “always.”

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[themostlesbianever]

College AU Sevika x reader chapter 5

A/n: I AM SO SORRY FOR MAKING YALL WAIT FOR SO LONG I LOVE YALL FOR WAITING SO PATIENTLY AND FOR ALL THE LOVE IVE RECEIVED SO FAR.

This chapter feels a bit shit to me because i had to force myself to write most of this because i wasnt motivated at all, i hope you still like it and i hope publishing a chapter will make me more motivated to write.

more parts

(proofread but there will still be mistakes)

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The band was split into little groups scattered throughout the room, chatting and getting their instruments ready for rehearsal. The sound of chatter bounces off the walls, immediately stopping once the door opens. You look over at the door and see that the band professor has just entered the room. 

“Okayyyyy” the man calls out. “Let's take our seats so we can begin, please,” he says. There's a small shuffle as everyone takes their seats. You fist bump Ekko and go to take your seat. You had already put the music up on your stand and gotten your trumpet ready before heading over to Ekko to chat. Your trumpet case is neatly tucked underneath your chair, the instrument itself laying on top of said chair. You pick it up and sit down, bringing your attention back to your professor.

“Before we begin I have a few announcements,” he begins. “There is a formal performance next week that we have been invited to, there will be a few other bands there too. We still have to hear from the organisers about when we have to be up on stage, but I will update you as soon as I know. As this is a formal event, all of you will have to be in suits. If you do not have one you can rent one from the school.” He continues. 

“You can invite family members or loved ones to come watch, you are however limited to 3 guests per person. If you cannot make it you will have to let me know either now or in the next 2 to 3 days.” He ends his speech with a quick nod to the students before moving on to the rehearsal.

You’re packing your trumpet away after the rehearsal when Ekko comes up to you, tapping your shoulder with one of his drum sticks. “I already have a suit,” he says. “Of course you have a suit” you roll your eyes at him, “I do not have one, guess that means i’ll have to rent one.” You sigh. “So who are you inviting to this thing?” He asks, you open your mouth to answer him but he cuts you off. “Wait no let me guess, your mum and grandma”

“Well obviously,” you close the lid of your trumpet case and snap the latches shut. “I was actually also thinking of inviting Sevika” you admit. Ekko looks at you with a bit of a surprised look on his face, “I didn’t know you two were that close” he says. “Well yeah, I guess we have gotten a lot closer, she’s also shown interest in my trumpet and the music I make so I thought she might like it.” You shrug.

“Are you inviting Powder?” You ask him, he nods at you. “Yeah, if she can make it.” You start making your way out of the room with the rest of the group but are stopped when the teacher calls out: “Again, this is a formal event so please make sure you have a suit.”

One of the saxophone players puts their hand up, and the teacher points to them. “Do the guests have to come in suits too?” They ask. “They do not have to come in suits, however, they will have to dress appropriately for a formal event. If they do have a suit, they are encouraged to wear it” The saxophonist simply nods. “Any more questions?” The teacher asks, but the room stays silent. “All right then, have a good day people.”

Ekko walks you to your dorm, fist bumping you when you get to the door before walking off to his own room. You knock. Two firm taps with your knuckles, then tapping the door three times with your nails. The two of you had ‘invented’ that specific knocking pattern to alert the other that you were coming in, and that it was you and not some random person. 

You stick your key into the lock and twist it, unlocking the door. You push it open and step inside the room. You walk over to your closet and put your trumpet case in it, groaning when you put it down. Then you hear Sevika get up. “Hello to you too” she says, fake annoyance in her voice. “You act like that case is a million pounds dude”

“Because it is a million pounds, trumpets are heavy, also, you try holding one up for over an hour and then carrying it back a million miles to your dorm room.” You roll your eyes. “You really are the queen of exaggeration huh” she says before placing her hand on your shoulder and basically shoving you aside. You shoot her a confused look but then she reaches out for the case and you understand what she's doing. 

She grabs the handle and lifts it up, lifting her eyebrows at you as if to say ‘you think this is heavy?’ She then puts it down and switches her grip, grabbing it so that the palm of her hand is facing the ceiling instead of the floor, curling her fingers around the handle. Then she bends her elbow, keeping her arm close to her body and lifting the case up as if it was a dumbbell. 

You can't help but focus on how the muscles in her arm flex every time she lifts the case up, which she does multiple times before finally setting it down and telling you you’re ‘super dramatic’. “Yeah yeah Sev, we get it, your muscles are massive.” You shove her playfully. She rolls the sleeve of her shirt up and puts her arm, that is bent at the elbow, up. Flexing her muscles, and hitting a few extra poses before you both burst out in laughter. 

“Hey Sev?” You start. She looks at you and lifts an eyebrow. “I have this formal band thing coming up, would you like to come and see me play?” you ask nervously. You don't really know why you are nervous, as you had told Ekko earlier today, Sevika has shown interest in your trumpet and has told you multiple times how impressive it is that you can read music and then play it. 

“Obviously I want to come” she replies, as if you’ve just asked her if the sky is blue. “I have to wear a suit” you announce, you’re gonna have to find some time to go and fit some suits to rent one. “Do I have to wear a suit?” she asks.

“Well, you don’t have to, but if you have one you’re encouraged to wear it, because it's a fancy event” you explain to her, she nods at you. Then she walks over to her closet and pulls out a flat bag with a zipper in the front. “Oh my god, how do you have a suit? You know what, I’m not even that surprised to be honest” you tell her. She just laughs and unzips the bag, revealing a simple yet beautiful black suit. 

____________________________________________

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[hart269]

Slithering Hearts

Chapter 7

Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem! reader Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother. A/N : You admit your feelings for Regulus. Also some Regulus POV.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Littered acoss the expanse of the celestial sphere, the burning balls of the stars couldn't have shined as brightly as his eyes, merlin, it was because of Amelia, yes, it was her, not like you had noticed them before, you definitely didn't. Not at all. It sounded like a lie even in your head. You groaned, burying your face into your scarf.

"Are you okay?" you glared up at him, it was his fault, yes, how dare he be who he is. You scoffed retreating back into your scarf, not answering his question.

He pressed his fingers on your forehead, and your face naturally warmed up, "Do you have a fever".

"I'm feeling just a bit warm" your muffled sound barely reached him. He didn't retaliate, "You should visit madam pompfrey".

You lifted your head to meet his concerned eyes, "I'm fine Reg, it'll go away in a while". At least you hoped so. He nodded although not looking much convinced.

Despite the cold night, you could feel the warmth like little electrical waves seeping from him. You scooted closer until your arms were almost brushing, when he made no movement to pull away, staring into the book, you scooted closer.

Regulus stared daggers into the book, latching into the word, not being able to complete reading the sentence. He knew for a fact, that if he moved and you took it as his discomfort, you will move away. He also knew that he wouldn't be able to muster up the courage to ask you to move back.

It was easier in times when you two were with more people to focus elsewhere, to impersonate as was expected of him. But with no one else, just in your presence, the walls he had build are vanished. To say much, you hadn't let him build it since you met.

It would be deceptive to say he hadn't tried, to distance you, to keep you at arm's bay, to be the 'perfect' child he was expected to be. But you tore them as if they were made of dandelions and not the stone of his parent's expectations.

So Regulus didn't move, not until you scooted closer, then he leaned a bit on your shoulder. His eyes relaxed, darting between sentences, and between the mayhem of the entirety of the his world, it felt like a stretch of peace.

"Can I ask you a question?" you asked, looking down at his head. He lifted his head, his eyes gazing at yours, "Si seulement nous pouvions obtenir les réponses à toutes les questions que notre cœur désire".

You shuddered, it was startling whenever he spoke French at random times, "What does that mean?". He turned his head, his eyes directly meeting yours, "You can ask whatever you want."

You nodded, not trusting your voice. There were so many things you wanted to ask him, but now that he was looking at you so attentively, as if you're gonna recite the holy words of Merlin himself, you could only whisper, "Do you ever wonder, what is it like" you paused for a moment, taking a breath, "being in love?"

The thing about Regulus he never questioned your weird questions, he had answered them to the best of his knowledge and even embarked with you on a journey to find them. But this he thought was the most pondorous. He leaned back into your shoulder, what was it like being in love. And when he finally answered his voice was not an octave louder than a whisper.

"I would say it's like the feeling when after a storm, the tide finally resides. It's wandering around lost your whole life until you stop cause you have found what you were searching for, until you are no longer lost, until you're home."

Regulus pondered over his own words the next day, he had answered at what he beleived to be his form of it, but the only person he could ever picture coming close to that feeling would be you. You had revolved around in his mind since the first day he had seen you at King cross station waving away at your brother. Maybe he'll tell you one day, one day for sure.

For now, it was enough for him to have you by his side, even just at friends. You were enough, even if you were now chasing after a black cat so you could find his 'twin' as you said.

"And then he was like all screaming and stuff, just because his favourite panda was in the dirt, what a siss" you were loudly interrupted by the scream of the infamous James potter who entered in his dorm.

He pointed at you, "What are you doing here, munching away at my cookies, you monster?".

Sirius snickered behind him, patting his back. You rolled your eyes, going back to the story you were telling Remus and Peter. You may have used some foxy ways to enter here and later when Remus and Peter entered, you decided to distract them with an embarassig story of James.

However James didn't retiliate, he came screeching, snatching the cookie jar from you. You went right back to fighting him for it, grabbing at the jar, "Where's yours"

"It's finished."

"Doesn't mean you can take mine" he snatched it back, holding it close to his chest. "You sneaked into the Gryffindor's common room and then into the boy's dorm, somehow found ours, for cookies"

At your nod, Sirius grinned, "She's perfect to execute pranks". You had already been exempted from being pranked after once you had gotten water thrown on you and James had received an Howler, this time from your Dad.

James shook his head, "No, absolutely not, we don't want anymore trouble than we already have"

"I'm not trouble"

"Yes you are, you always hanging out with snakes"

"Not everyone in Slytherin are snakes" Sure some like Malfoy and Lestrange were but you avoided them like the plauges they were.

"Oh yes, they are" James grumbled finally snatching the jar from him.

"Not to mention you are always hanging out with my brother" Sirius said plopping down on his bed.

"So what?" you glared at him. Sirius stood for a moment, it was truly a lightbulb lighting in his head moment at him.

"You know I remembered something, wanna help me over there" Sirius pointed outside the door.

"Why not" you squinted your eyes following him.

"You like my brother, don't you"

"You have no evidence"

"You're not denying it"

"Don't test me Black, I know your deepest darkest secrets too"

"Oh really, Like what" Sirius snorted. Big mistake.

You smirked, "You're in love with Remus"

Sirius's eyes widened like saucers, "I - uh- Excuse you, I'm dating Marlene"

"Who's dating Dorcas actually, at first I thought she was just cheating on you but now I realise"

"How did you know"

"I have sources" You didn't, while searching for James's bed, you saw one cvered with scrolls of paper. Inbetween the scrolls laid on Sirius's bed you found Remus's name with a red heart drawn upon it.

"Fine" Sirius sighed, "I won't tell if you won't"

"I need something else too"

"What"

"Teach me how you do your eyeliner"

"Oh my God" Sirius whisper yelled.

"What"

"Prongs is gonna be my brother-in-law"

"What the fu-"

You crooned at the new black kitten, it was just impossibly tiny. However Regulus glared daggers at it, "What do you think we should name it?"

"Naming it means you'll get attached to it"

"So what"

"No"

"No what, it's so cute"? you said petting it.

"And i'm not?" Regulus blanched realising he said it out loud.

"You are pretty too, Reg, don't worry"

Regulus dscoffed, "I'm prettier"

You laughed, at Regulus's pout before he too broke into a smile. However, to your obliviousness darkness loomed overhead as a dark lord gained more and more power

French translation : If only we could get the answers to all the questions of our hearts desire.

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[queenshelby]

The Law Student (Rewritten)

Part Four: Mistakes

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (20) & Reader (30)

Note: This plays in 1996, just before Cillian drops out of law school.

"Can I ask you something, Miss Y/LN?" he said, addressing you with a formality that was endearing in its earnestness.

"Of course, Cillian," you replied, mirroring his formality but unable to suppress the slight tremble in your voice.

You could feel your heart beating faster as you waited for his question, unsure of where this conversation was headed.

Cillian took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "Do you think that, sometimes, people can fall for one another despite their best efforts not to?" he asked, his gaze locked onto yours.

His question hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning and implications. You swallowed hard, unprepared for his directness.

The night air had grown colder, and you shivered involuntarily. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, a magnetic pull drawing you closer to this handsome young man who seemed so intent on understanding the mysteries of human connection.

"Uhm, I suppose so," you answered, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions racing through you. "But I should really, uhm , get some rest now," you added hurriedly, avoiding his gaze. You wanted to run away from this intense connection and the confusing emotions it evoked.

As you fumbled with your keys, trying to unlock the building's entrance, Cillian reached out and gently placed a hand on your arm. "Wait," he said, softly. You froze, your heart pounding in your chest.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled you towards him. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he whispered, his eyes searching yours for a sign that you were okay. "But I just can't stop thinking about you, Miss Y/LN," he told you , his voice barely above a whisper.

"Cillian , I-," you started to protest, but he silenced you with a gentle finger on your lips.

"No, don't say anything," he murmured. "I know I am crossing a line here. But, I don't know. I just had to take my chances I suppose," Cillian admitted honestly and his words hung between you in the cool night air.

You could feel his breath against your skin, and your body involuntarily leaned closer to him. Cillian's hand moved from your arm to cup your cheek, and he gently brushed away a stray lock of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes. His touch sent shivers down your spine, and you suddenly felt very aware of how close he was.

"Would you, uhm, like to come inside?" you heard yourself ask, surprising both yourself and him.

You weren't sure where this was going, or what would happen next, but you knew that you couldn't just let him go without clearing the air between you.

Cillian's eyes widened in shock for a brief moment, but then a small smile played on his lips, and he nodded.

Without a word, you turned and unlocked the building's door, leading him up the stairs to your apartment. Your heart raced with every step, unsure of what would happen next.

"Come in ," you murmured, pushing the door open to reveal a cozy and warmly lit living space.

The furniture, dimly illuminated by a standing lamp, consisted of a plush couch and an oversized armchair, sitting opposite a cream-colored coffee table adorned with a large vase of fresh flowers.

Cillian hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, his eyes scanning the space with an intense curiosity.

You closed the door behind him, the sound of the latch clicking into place echoing in the silence that followed.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" you asked, breaking the silence. You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn't dare meet his eyes. Instead, you walked towards the kitchen area, your movements deliberate and measured.

"Sure," Cillian replied, his voice husky and low. You could sense the tension building between you, the anticipation making your heart race.

You busied yourself with pouring two glasses of wine, taking your time to steady your shaking hands.

The clinking of glass against the countertop filled the apartment, punctuating the charged silence.

As you turned around to face him, you saw that Cillian had taken off his coat and had draped it across the back of one of your kitchen chairs.

His eyes were locked on yours, the intensity in his gaze setting your skin on fire.

Slowly, deliberately, you made your way towards him, the glasses of wine barely registering in your hands.

"Listen, uhm,  Cillian," you began, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to find the right words. "I want you to know that I really appreciate your kindness and, I guess, your honesty as well," you trailed off, finally mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "But this, this thing between us, it can't happen," you said, your voice steady despite the swarm of emotions consuming you.

Cillian opened his mouth to protest, but you placed a finger on his lips, effectively silencing him just as he had done with you earlier. 

"Please, just listen," you implored him. "I can feel it too, the pull between us, but it's wrong. You're my student. I'm your professor and if I was to pursue anything with you then I could lose my job, my reputation, everything I've worked for. Despite, you're young and ambitious, with a bright future ahead of you. You should be with someone your own age," you  told him, pushing the glass of wine into his hand. You knew you were making excuses and that the real reason was that you were afraid. Afraid of what would happen if you gave in to this attraction, afraid of the consequences, and afraid of losing yourself in the process.

But Cillian wouldn't back down and placed the wineglass  back on the table. He took a step forward, closing the gap between you, leaving you with no room to retreat. You looked up at him, your breath hitched, and your heart pounding heavily in your chest. The tension was building up; you could feel the heat radiating from his body, and the electricity that sparked as your hands brushed against one another.

"I don't want girls my age. They are boring. Predictable. Sometimes, I even feel like I can't breathe when I'm around them," Cillian said, his deep blue eyes never leaving yours.  "I want someone like you."

His confession hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't help but feel your resolve crumbling. You knew that giving in to this attraction was a dangerous game, but you couldn't deny the pull you felt towards him.

"Cillian," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper but Cillian didn't seem to hear the warning in your voice.

All he heard was the longing, the desire that you tried so hard to suppress. And before you knew it, his hands were cupping your face , drawing you close. His gaze dropped to your lips, and you could see the hunger, the anticipation in his blue eyes. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the moment you knew was coming, but you couldn't deny the thrill, the excitement that coursed through your veins. You felt his breath against your lips, and then time stood still. You felt his lips brush against yours, gently, hesitantly, and then more confidently. It was a kiss, sweet and tender, but with a promise of more to come. 

"Cillian, I don't think we should be doing this," you murmured, your voice a breathy whisper, but your words fell on deaf ears as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his touch, and you realized that resisting him was futile. You let yourself sink into the kiss, your heart pounding with desire.

The kiss quickly became heated, and you could feel the chemistry between you ignite, setting your body on fire and it was at this point that you took over control. 

You reached for Cillian's shirt, pulling it over his head and letting it fall beside you on the floor. His chest was lean and firm, with a small patch of chest hair covering his skin. 

You ran your hands over his bare skin, relishing the feel of his warm skin beneath your fingertips. Cillian let out a low moan as your fingers trailed over his abs, making their way down to the hem of his jeans. 

"Oh my goodness Cillian, you are already so hard," you murmured, running your thumb over the growing bulge in his pants.

Cillian blushed heavily. "Well, you have this kind of effect on me I suppose ," he mumbled, his eyes never leaving yours. His voice was thick with desire, and you could hear the slight tremble in his words.

Your heart skipped a beat at his response. He was right - you did have this kind of effect on him. You had an inexplicable power over him, and he over you. It was a dangerous game, but the pull between you was too strong to resist.

You undid the button of his jeans, and slowly, teasingly, pulled down the zipper.

Cillian's breath hitched as you slipped your hand inside his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his shaft. He was rock hard, his length impressive and intimidating all at once.

"You like that?" you murmured, stroking him slowly, watching as a shudder ran through his body at your touch.

"Miss, uhm...fuck," he gasped, his voice hoarse with desire as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the sensation of your touch.

You watched him, your own desire building as you stroked him, feeling him grow harder and hotter in your hand. You could feel his pulse throbbing in your fingertips, his breath coming in ragged gasps as you brought him closer and closer to the edge.

"Please Miss Y/LN, you need to stop," he begged, his voice strained. "I don't want to cum yet." 

You pulled your hand away reluctantly, a wicked smile playing on your lips before you reached behind your back and unzipped your dress, slowly letting it slide off your shoulders and onto the floor.

"Holy shit," Cillian breathed, his eyes roving over your lingerie-clad body. "You are so hot."

You smiled at his admiration, feeling a thrill run through you at his words. You loved being desired by him, and you reveled in the way he looked at you.

"Come here," you said, crooking your finger at him and beckoning him closer and, like a shy boy, he obliged, moving towards you with hunger in his eyes before kissing you again. 

Reaching for his hand, you eventually guided him to your plush couch, urging him to sit down. Your heart rate was almost pounding out of your chest, but you reveled in the desire that coursed through your veins.

Cillian sat on the edge of the couch, his eyes never leaving yours, and before he could even blink, you removed your bra , revealing your perfect breasts for his gaze to admire. His gaze was locked, nearly fixated on them, and you could see the desire burning behind his eyes.

Slowly, you then walked towards him before, finally, taking off your panties as well. 

"Is this what you want, Cillian?" you asked, your voice thick with longing and anticipation.

Your eyes locked onto Cillian's, and you could see the raging desire in his deep blue eyes. You could tell he was struggling to contain himself, and you reveled in the thought of being the one to unleash his primal urges.

"God, yes," Cillian breathed, his voice raw with yearning and you wasted no time and pushed down his briefs , allowing his erection to spring free. It was impressive, to say the least, and your mouth watered at the thought of wrapping your lips around it.

"You are beautiful," Cillian breathed as you dropped to your knees in front of him, your hands roaming over his thighs. You could feel his muscles tense and quiver beneath your touch, and you smiled and knew you had him right where you wanted him.

You leaned forward, your lips brushing against the tip of his erection, causing Cillian to gasp and groan.

"Do you think you can cum twice for me?" you asked, locking eyes with Cillian as you slowly stroked his cock, your lips mere inches away from his tip.

"Fuck, Miss, I-I don't know," Cillian stammered, his hips bucking involuntarily into your grip, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

"Well, we will just have to find out then, won't we?" you smirked before taking him deep into your mouth, swallowing him to the root and reveling in the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat.

Cillian let out a string of curse words as you began to suck and stroke him in earnest, your other hand reaching up to play with his balls. He tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling gently as you worked his cock, grinding your teeth against his girth as you swallowed him hungrily.

"F-f-fuck," Cillian gasped, his voice shaking with pleasure. "I'm gonna fucking cum if you keep doing this!"

You pulled off of him with a satisfying pop, looking up at him through your thick lashes.

"That's a good boy," you murmured, smirking at the shocked look on his face before taking him back into your mouth.

Cillian's moans and curse words filled the room, his hips thrusting upwards as you sucked him with abandon. It wasn't long before you could feel him tensing up, and you knew he was close.

"I'm gonna cum, Miss!" Cillian exclaimed, groaning loudly as he shot his load into your mouth, filling you with his warm seed. You swallowed eagerly, savoring the taste of his release.

But you weren't finished with him yet . You looked up at Cillian, your mouth still wrapped around his cock.

His eyes were closed, his head thrown back in pleasure as you continued to work your mouth over him.

Slowly, you began to move again, sucking him deeper and harder with each stroke until he hardened again completely  in your mouth.

"Ah, I can't believe how good this feels," Cillian gasped as you worked your magic, coaxing his cock back to a steel-like stiffness between your lips.

He opened his eyes and looked down at you, the heat in his gaze scorching as, finally, you released him from your mouth and stood up.

"Sit back against the couch," you instructed Cillian, your voice soft and sultry but at the same time, unyielding, demanding.

You needed this. Needed to take control. Needed to feel what it was like to possess him.

He obeyed, lying back against the couch, his cock straining towards the ceiling.

Slowly, deliberately, you climbed onto him, placing one knee on either side of his hips. You were straddling him now, your pussy hovering tantalizingly close to his cock.

You could feel the heat emanating from your wetness, and you knew that he could see it too.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Cillian breathed, his hands reaching up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

You arched your back, gasping as his touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"And you're so fucking perfect," you replied, your voice low and sultry as you reached down to guide his cock towards your entrance. "God, I need this. Need to feel you inside me," you moaned, slowly lowering yourself onto him, inch by inch.

Cillian gasped as you took him inside of you, his cock stretching you wide, filling you up in a way that made your toes curl. You began to rock your hips back and forth, grinding yourself against him, your clit rubbing against his pelvis with every movement.

"You are so wet for me. So fucking tight," Cillian groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he began to thrust up into you.

"Are you going to be a good boy for me and cum deep inside me?" you demanded, your voice low and sultry.

"Yes, Miss, I-I'll do anything you want," Cillian stuttered, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to thrust harder and faster into you.

But you weren't satisfied yet. You wanted to feel him even deeper inside of you, so you leaned back, placing your hands on Cillian's thighs for support.

"Ah, fuck yes," Cillian moaned as you began to ride him harder, the angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside of you.

"I am so close ," you panted, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you drew closer and closer to your climax.

Cillian groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust up into you.

The feeling of him inside of you, the sound of our bodies slapping together, the smell of our sweat mixing together - it was all so overwhelming, so intoxicating.

"I'm gonna cum," you exclaimed, your voice rising in pitch as your orgasm washed over you.

Your nails dug into Cillian's thighs, leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin as you rode out the waves of pleasure that coursed through your body.

Cillian let out a loud groan as he felt you clench around him, his cock twitching as he emptied himself deep inside you. His warm seed spilled forth, filling you up completely before leaking out slowly, trailing down your inner thigh.

You collapsed onto him, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath.

Cillian wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as his own panting subsided. You both lay there, spent and exhausted, your bodies intertwined in a tangle of post-orgasmic bliss.

But as the haze of passion cleared, reality came crashing back down.

You had just fucked one of your students. There, you said it. It was wrong, and you knew it - but you couldn't deny the wave of satisfaction and contentment that washed over you. It had been so long since you had felt anything other than isolation and loneliness.

But as the adrenaline wore off, guilt and panic began to set in. You quickly pulled away from Cillian, your movements hurried and frantic as you scrambled to collect your clothes from the floor.

"What's wrong?" Cillian asked, concern etched on his face.

You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze as you pulled your dress back on, the material sticking to your sweat-slicked skin.

"Did I do something wrong?" he then asked quickly , his face falling as he pulled on his boxers and jeans, trying to cover himself as if he were naked and vulnerable.

"No," you stammered, shaking your head as you pulled your panties back on beneath your dress. It was true, he hadn't done anything wrong, but you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that had settled in your stomach like a lead weight.

"Then why are you freaking out?" Cillian asked, searching your face for an answer. "You know I won't tell anyone about this," he added, his voice soft and sincere.

You met his gaze, grateful for his understanding and compassion. "I know," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's just, I fucked up Cillian. I should have acted responsibly,"  you reluctantly confessed.

The mood had shifted dramatically, and the heavy weight of guilt and shame hung in the air between you.

Cillian looked hurt for a moment before masking it with a nonchalant shrug. "Hey, it's fine. I wanted it probably more than you did. I made the first move," he assured you but you knew that it wasn't that simple. You were his professor, and you were meant to protect him and guide him academically - not to take advantage of his youth and vulnerability.

"Cillian, I think it's best if you leave," you said, your voice trembling as you forced yourself to meet his gaze.

Cillian's face fell, and you could see the hurt and confusion in his eyes. He nodded slowly, his movements stiff and jerky as he grabbed his t-shirt.

"I'll see you tomorrow in class," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

But you knew that things would never be the same between you. You had crossed a line, and there was no turning back.

Tags:

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[storiesbyjes2g]

3.201 Miracles

Once again, I took advantage of the dry weather, daring Mother Nature to trick me again. I grabbed the toolbox and got back to work on the treehouse. I wish I could tell you I made good, uninterrupted progress. It was Rosie this time who pulled me away. She hovered nearby the entire time, so I stopped and gave her what she wanted. She's only clingy like that for two reasons, and both of them require my undivided attention. We went for a long jog. When we returned, the house was dark, and my girls were fast asleep. The night was still young, and I wasn't ready to call it quite yet, so I had a personal care night. I'm ashamed to admit when I last did yoga, and my muscles were a lot tighter because of it. I really need to figure out how to balance taking care of myself and my life.

In the morning, I woke up to a big ruckus on the side of my house. It sounded like a loud motor, so I got up to see what was going on. To my surprise, my sister caused the racket, and she was weeding the money tree! I can't lie; I felt myself tearing up. Alessia is one of the most self-centered sims I know. There's been almost nothing she's done or said that didn't benefit her. I mean, the woman skipped my engagement dinner because she didn't feel like going, and she was my sim of honor. But there she was, in my side yard, caring for my tree. Whether it's the kids softening her, or she's finally maturing, I'm so grateful to see her considering others' needs.

"Hey, sis. What are you doing out here?"

"Oh! Did I wake you?"

"Yeah, but it's cool, I guess."

"Sorry. I never saw a tree like this, so I came to get a closer look. When I saw the weeds, I figured I may as well. What is this, anyway?"

"I appreciate you doing that. This is my wedding gift from Dub. It's a money tree."

She gasped.

"They're real?!"

"Right? I didn't think they were either."

"Wow. He's some friend."

"Yeah. He's the best."

I rarely have opportunities to be up close and personal with my sister. Her eyes look tired, and I realized I don't actually know what's going on in her life.

"How are you doing, Less? Like, really."

She shrugged.

"I'm alright, I guess."

"Really, Less?"

She shrugged lackadaisically again. Some things about her will never change.

"There's not much to tell. I have my kids and boring job so they don't eat me."

I laughed so loud. Good thing we don't have neighbors right next to us.

"What about Jace?" I asked. "You heard from him?"

"Nope."

"Damn. I was really hoping he'd step up."

"He'd have to be a man to do that."

"HA! Okay, you got me there."

I had another question I was afraid to ask. The last time I asked it, I got WAY more than I bargained for. But I really wanted an answer. I promised Mama I would look after her, and I can't quite do that if I don't know what I'm dealing with.

"So...are you seeing anyone?"

"When the hell would I have time for that?"

"Touché. You should make time, though. I don't want you to feel like you're trapped in the house with the kids all the time. That's why we moved here, remember?"

"Yeah. I know. The truth is, I kinda like those little gremlins. I thought I'd hate motherhood and being tied down, but..."

"Yeah. Kids have a way of melting your heart."

"They do. I'll get back out there at some point, but for now, I'm cool with just me and my three."

Has Winterfest come early? Because I've just witnessed two miracles, ha!

"I'm really glad to hear that. I always worried about how this would go for you because...you know. Happy to know you're enjoying the journey. Mama would be so proud of you..."

The latch on the gate behind us clicks. My cute little shadow walks through, looking like she's on a mission.

"Auntie Lessia, can Breanna come play?"

"Des, it's not even 8 a.m.," I said. "Give them time to get dressed and eat breakfast."

"She can spend the day with us, you know," Alessia suggested.

As much as I love my sister, she was never on my list of potential babysitters. It's not that I don't trust her or I think she won't take care of my child because I know she will; I've seen it. I've just always been painfully aware of her situation and didn't want to add to her stress. But given what she just told me, maybe we can change that.

"Are you sure? You have your hands full already."

"It's cool, Luca. What's one more child? Besides, having her over will help me. With all four of them together, everyone will have a playmate. That frees to do other things."

I never thought of it that way.

"True. Well...yeah, okay. If you're cool with it, I'm down."

"You want to help me make breakfast?" she asked Desiree.

"Okay," Desiree shouted.

"You're such a little sweetie."

"By the way," she said to me, "I'm still very upset you got the blue-eyed child. Like, what in the world??"

"I guess the Watcher loves me the best."

"Whatever! You look like a dork. What are you even wearing?? Looking like a freezer bunny threw up on you!"

[bogkeep]

ranting about one (1) particular gender clinic moment from the past

this was like, several years ago (Because It Took Me Three Years To Get HRT) but i'm still thinking about it so often. there was the one particular consultation where i spoke to a lady who i think is the head doctor for the adult department of the gender clinic (i recently learnt that the head doctor for the children's department has been attending anti trans organisation meetings. hell world hell world hell world), she gave me a horrible powerpoint presentation and then quizzed me about my gender identity, in particular the question "what does being a man mean to you". i got so frustrated with this question i started crying, so that was very fun and not at all humiliating.

like, it's pretty widely acknowledged that to get any kind of treatment you have to basically give The Correct Answers which are probably not the Actual True Answers, which is a particular kind of hell for me who can't lie even when my life depends on it apparently - but at least i had spent hours upon hours talking with my friends who have gone through the torment nexus already to have an idea of what they were looking for. this question was a complete curveball, because i had NO idea what the fuck this lady wanted me to say. for one, it's not the Absolute Truth to say i'm a man, i'm much closer to having no gender at all, but the norwegian trans clinic does not treat non-binary people (as stated by The Horrible PowerPoint. and one of the other doctors i talked to who suspected i might not be binary enough kept telling me how irresponsible it would be to give me treatment even when i was literally crying and begging and swearing up and down i was 100% absolutely A Man. haha. hahaha! god that was so deeply horrible.)

for two, just. i am the worst possible person to take on this question. i'll have an easier time defining *art* than i'll have defining masculinity or femininity, and if you have ever tried to debate me on That, you KNOW what a horrible philosophical rabbit hole we're going down. like, what DID she want me to say? man is muscles and cars and sports ooga booga caveman??????? a man must Protect his Family and his Nation???? do i look like a fascist to you!!!!!!

maybe it was not intended as a deep philosophical question, maybe it was just a way of asking me what i hoped to achieve with my transition, except, i had already described those things. i had described those things to at least two other doctors by that point because all they ever wanted us to do was parrot our same talking points over and over and over so they could compare notes like a fucking interrogation. i asked her to explain what she meant with her question, and she gave me nothing.

maybe if my brain was not a labyrinth of ocd and autism i could have come up with a coherent and detailed Man Plan, but unfortunately my brain IS a labyrinth of ocd and autism i have to navigate every single day even when my thought feet ache with exhaustion. what being a man means to me means that i get to be myself in a way that's comfy to exist in!!! there's no other way to put it, i just want to live my life!!! i'm just here!!! i already am!!!!!! i'm just a person that exists in the world!!!!

all of this kind of feeds into the Larger discussion of like, finding Healthy Masculinity and Masculine Ideals and like. i get it, i get that twelve year old boys online are latching onto incels and right wingers and that whole cohort, i understand the Need for there to be cool aspirational dudes who don't wish violence upon women and minorities. but i get so tired of just the idea of having to constantly define what makes or breaks a gender. maybe it's rich coming from me, from someone who just admitted to not having one, and i know many find their gender Very important and i respect that so so much. but don't you get tired!!! don't you just wanna Be!!!! and i know we can't because we live in a goddamn fucking society but what if we could just vibe!!!!!! what if we could just follow our hearts and play around with presentation that feels right for who we are as people instead of having to play 4D chess against The Cis Perception Of Gender!! there are so many ways to have a body and it's nobody else's business what you do with yours!!!! ahhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!

idk it's kind of like. when jehova's witnesses or other groups trying to evangelize at me about the importance of Following The Right Correct Path Of Jesus Christ and it makes me wonder, but why though. i'm already doing my best to be a decent person with the abilities and resources that i have. like it feels more productive for me to stick to that than to have to make it specifically about jesus. i think it's cool and all that jesus is a helpful concept to You, but he's not a helpful concept to Me. i think that's how i feel about trying to define a Healthy Masculinity. like sure we can write up some Healthy Masculine Ideals but ultimately i'm just gonna keep doing my thing. and like, i DO understand that people perceive genders differently and if i ever start passing as a man to strangers on the street i will have to take that into account for how i interact with the world around me. i know i can't traipse through society like a unicorn unaffected by material reality. though, i HAVE spent thirty years (and counting) being perceived as a cringe little girl doing womanhood wrong. my gender is but a stitch in the grand tapestry of who i am as a person. my foundational principles won't change with *gender*.

and Why would the burden on redefining masculinity fall on me specifically! like i don't even want to play this game! i never chose to live in a society of binary gender essentialism, and yet i was being given riddles to prove my commitment to it. buddy i don't want to explain what being a man means to me, i want to dismantle the entire concept down to its molecules!

[justanothersanjilover]

One Piece Modern Gym AU wips

(Part 4)

After finishing his shift Sanji stayed at the bar a little longer, trying to spot a girl that matched the earlier description. But he couldn’t, there was no one that would fit. Sighing he made his way over to the staff room. Hearing giggles coming from inside, he smiled at the thought of seeing Nami and Vivi after a particular hard day at work. He open the door and stepped inside.

The room was a break room and changing room at the same time. So he walked in on them changing quiet often - it didn’t seem to bother neither Nami, nor Vivi and Sanji wouldn’t complain. He liked looking at beauty even if it was out of reach for him - looking at them was admiration for their absolutely magnificent beauty for the most part, really!

But this time the picture was completely different and he was truly shocked because of it.

Zoro was in there with the girls, his back turned toward the door. They all were shirtless and while Vivi seemed to be really interested in Zoro‘s chest, Nami looked down at her‘s and shook her head.

„I don’t know if I would want that…“ she, again, looked down. „No I definitely don’t want that.“

„And that’s the good thing - no one can force you to do it. So, if you two have enough of staring and comparing, I‘d like to put my shirt back on,“ Zoro chuckled while sending both of them an amused look.

„Am I interrupting something?“ Sanji made himself known, looking everywhere but Zoro‘s wide back and the girls chests.

„Na, we just compared sizes so to say,“ Vivi laughed, smacking Zoro for making an inappropriate sound.

Sanji raised an eyebrow and looked at Zoro. Why wasn’t he turning around? Usually he didn’t miss a chance to give him one of his challenging and at the same time unreadable looks. Sanji could even see how he tensed up a bit and it was obvious, that Vivi and Nami made the biggest effort to draw attention away from Zoro. Sanji had to admit that it worked. One moment he stared holes in Zoro’s back and the next he looked at Nami stretching - which made her boobs press together slightly and jiggle as she released the tension in her body.

Vivi already got dressed and walked over now.

„I wanted to ask you something about one of your recipes you gave me the other day.“

It was a question clearly made up on the spot, but Sanji gave her a detailed answer on how to prepare and season the avocado for the salad he recommended to her the other day. He did glance over to Zoro while he spoke, seeing him put his shirt on and relaxing as the fabric covered him. Now he turned around and threw one of those looks at Sanji, but this time, Sanji didn't look away; he held his gaze. Zoro seemed at bit irritated but took it as a challenge, and it quickly went from simply looking at each other to a starring contest.

“You guys are unbelievable,” Nami sighed, and Sanji could see, out of the corner of his eye, that she’d put on her shirt as well.

“Just like children,” Vivi giggled, latching herself to Nami and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“We’re going home. Have fun staring at each other and don't forget to lock the door when you're finished!” Nami yelled as she and Vivi were already out of the room.

Zoro smirked as he saw Sanji’s eye twitch. He could do this all-day long, but was the cook able to?

“I can see you wanting to give up already. Why don't you look away? You want to run after Nami and Vivi to take them home, right?”

“I'm not gonna loose against a muscle head like you, Marimo!”

prev | next

First part

[swallowtail-ageha]

for the character ask meme!! fia - 12. What's a headcanon you have for this character? boc - 9. Could you be roommates with this character? roderika - 2. Favorite canon thing about this character? quelaag - 25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now? lady maria - 27. FREEBIE QUESTION!!

Fia- 12

Oooh i think she was p much an orphan. Not even one abandoned in the temple as a baby just one face in the mass of sea urchins on the streets, probably the kid of a prostitute who also died when Fia was vry young, and this is why she is also that devoted to being a deathbed companion. The whole cult is heaven compared to a life in the streets :)

Boc- 9

Easy answer which is absolutely yes! Quiet kind guy who is rather tidy and polite. Heaven on earth honestly

Roderika- 2

Her arc again she is so tragic to me :(. She went from being suicidal to finally finding her place again and then decides to essentially commit suicide by staying in the roundtable hold because hewg gave her a purpose and family and you have taken that from her. The contempt in her voice when she says "are you here for spirit tuning" after you burn the rountable hold always breaks my heart :(

Queelag- 25

First impression: i was actually kinda feverish/delirious and already burnt out from blighttown so when i met her i just lost my shit in the laughing hysterically way and after killing her didnt have many more thoughts

Now: uuuuh i need a whole family drama about the fall of izalith. She loved her sister so much i will always have a soft spot for her ;-;

Lady Maria- 27

I will admit its past 1 am and my brain is kinda fried atm so i might get the meaning of freebie question wrong like is it something a la "op makes up a question not in the game and answers it?" Because if so i am just going w "what made you latch onto this character" and i am gonna reply with "both banger character design and incredible introduction". Obsessed w how she haunts the narrative of the entire game

[radioactive-earthshine]

Truck or treat~ 🧛

Hope you have a lovely spooky night!

🧛‍♀️ A TREAT! 🎃

Here is more of the KonBart unpublished "coming back to life blues" fic.

Enjoy!

👻

Inside the barn loft was a magical place. It was for Clark when he was a teenager almost 30 years ago and it was to Kon too. Fairy lights hung on the unfinished ceiling casting them in a soft yellow glow while outside silver stars glittered. There was an old old old hide-a-bed type couch pushed against the wall that looked like it was from the 80s and it likely was. Kon wasn’t bothered by sitting on it though and he watched amusedly as Bart explored the loft. 

“Dude this place is cool! How come you never showed me this?! Hey, izzat that a telescope?!” Bart was at the window and his eye was pressed to the eyepiece before Kon registered the question. 

“Yep, belonged to Clark back when he was our age.” 

“Woah… I can see the neighbor’s farm!” Bart said with a grin but then it suddenly  fell as he pulled his face away from the telescope. “Maybe I can see a little too much of the neighbors heh. Guess no need for curtains when you’re this rural. You said this was Clark’s?” 

Kon made an awkward grimace and he did not want to think about the more creepy implications of that telescope. “I’m sure he was looking at the stars, Bart.” 

“Do you think you can see Krypton’s star?” Bart suddenly asked as he sat next to Kon, the couch was worn down from decades of use and he fell a little deeper into the couch than he expected but righted himself almost instantly. 

“Krypton’s star?” Kon repeated and he looked out the window towards the dark. “I’m not sure.” 

“Well Krypton was from our galaxy so you might be able to find its star. Do you think that’s why Clark has the telescope? Was he looking for where he came from?” 

“That’s… a good question. I really don’t know,” Kon admitted and he thought about Clark. He thought about him at his age, feeling alone and scared of his forming abilities, knowing he wasn’t human but also feeling so connected to humanity because it was the only thing he knew. He imagined him worrying if he was a threat, if he was always going to be loved, if he was going to be rejected the second he was found out that he was an alien, and finally he imagined him looking through that telescope to see if he could find something to latch onto to make it all make sense. 

Kon wondered if while Clark had all those feelings did he also feel guilty about having them because he was loved. 

“You asked me how I just accepted not feeling like I belonged.” Bart’s voice carved Kon away from his thoughts. 

“Yeah,” Kon sighed. “Out of all my issues being a clone and all the shit-terrific things I’ve been through, I never felt like I didn’t belong here. How did you do it?” 

Bart stared out that window as he answered him and his voice was weighted. “I admit, it never really bothered me. I always knew that no matter what, I’d be the speedster that just didn’t fit with the others. I’m not supposed to be here Kon, I was born one thousand years in the future to two families that should never have met, and I should have died twice before even coming here! I’m like a red sprite in a lightning storm. I’m an anomaly that just showed up that people had to deal with. I’m weird and because of that I am never going to belong, really. No matter what I do, no matter how much I try to conform, even if I read the entire contents of the San Francisco Library will I make myself fit better.” 

“So that’s why you-” 

Bart cut him off with a wave of his hand. “It didn’t bother me until I started seeing people not believe in me. I got tired of people thinking I was stupid and I tried to make myself be someone they all wanted me to be and I’ll be honest, it fucking sucked!” 

Kon suddenly felt guilty for all the times he called him an ‘idiot’ or a ‘nimrod’, but before he could even try to apologize Bart kept talking. “When you died Kon, it really made my whole earth shake, you know? It made me really start thinking about myself, where I wanted to be, who I was and then… BAM, there I am dead as dead can get too. Well, for a speedster anyway.”  “Being dead sucks by the way,” Kon revealed even though he didn’t remember much of anything. Only a vague feeling of contentment and loneliness.

[mythicalmagical-monkeyman]

Heeeeey dreamerzzz fans

um, I wrote a thing because the ao3 tag is, uh, in shambles (cries) to put it buuut anyways I’ll put the story under the cut if you wanna read it here

Summary: Sooooo, ig I kind of have it in my au that Cooper’s been in love with Mateo for forever but I thought it’d be funnier if he accidentally confesses instead doing some serious reveal Thus This

Additional Tags:

First dreamzzz fic woo! I have no idea what I’m doing Wrote this on a whim. - logan is only there for cameo points, Cooper has implied anxiety, Mateo goes non verbal for a little bit, Aged-Up Character(s), But it’s not specifically said how old they are, Crack turned hurt/comfort, trigger warning for a slight mention of drowning, Love Confessions, accidental love confession, t for light swearing, No beta we die like Lunia, Fluff, Physics bashing

— — —

Mateo chewed on the nail of his thumb as he mulled over the physics homework on the table in front of him as Logan, who sat across from him, did the same. Well Logan was less doing homework and more rocking out to an air guitar. 

Cooper was also at the table with the two only he had finished his work about fifteen minutes ago and was now engrossed with a video game on his phone. 

Mateo sighed and took his eyes off his paper. He was starting to understand why Cooper insisted that physics wasn’t a real thing, it honestly kind of sucked. 

Maybe he just needed a quick comic break. 

Mateo turned in his seat so he could more easily zip open his backpack and pull out his tablet. Z-Blob greeted him as the slime was able to see light again. 

“Hey bud,” 

Mateo looked around and seeing that no one else was in that part of the library, reached into his bag and pulled out his tablet. Z latched on to his arm as he reached in and when Mateo pulled his arm back out Z-Blob came with. 

Z-Blob flopped to the table and looked down at the pages of homework he had landed on as Mateo set his tablet down only for the slime to shake himself as if he was disgusted by the papers. 

Mateo snickered, “Yeah homework is pretty gross,” 

Z-Blob looked down at the homework again before looking up and pointing his head in Cooper’s direction. 

“Hm?” Mateo hummed, cocking his head to the side in confusion. 

The slime looked back down at the page for a third time. He then hopped off the paper towards Cooper and pointed his head again. 

Finally it clicked what Z-Blob was trying to communicate. 

“Ooooohhhhh,” Mateo said, picking up his pencil and glancing at his paper to see which questions he still had to answer, “Hey Coop?” 

“Yeah?” Cooper wondered, not taking his attention off his phone. 

“What is Mach Number?” Mateo quizzed, preparing himself to write down the answer. 

“Mach number gives the ratio of the speed of the object to the speed of sound in the fluid. It's formula is m equal u over c and it was figured out by a guy named Ernst Mach,” Cooper muttered. 

Mateo grinned and scribbled down what Cooper had told him, “Thank you,” 

“Yeah, no problem. Love you too,” Cooper responded in the same somewhat out of it voice he’d been using. 

All in the span of a couple seconds many things ended up happening. Logan instantly started laughing as red sprang to Mateo’s face as he dropped his pencil and put his head in his hands to hide the blush. Cooper seemed to mentally blue screen for a second before he realized what he had said and started to stutter out swears and apologizes. 

Logan threw back his head as he laughed, “PFFFFF HA, BRO WHY’D YOU ADMIT TO THAT DURING HOMEWORK TIME!? HAHA!” 

“I don’t- I DONT KNOW! It-it just slipped out!” Cooper shot back trying to deflect only to let his head drop in embarrassment, “Mateo I’m so sorry! I didn’t-!” 

“It’s fine!” Mateo squeaked. 

Cooper groaned and grabbed his hoodie hood to throw it over his head. He pulled on the drawstrings and the opening of his hood shrunk so half of Cooper’s face was no longer visible and then Cooper face planted into the table. 

Logan kept on laughing for a bit before it died out to just the occasional snicker but Mateo had mostly tuned it out at that point as too many thoughts swarmed around in his head. 

Did he really just admit that? Cooper wasn’t actually in love with him right? There was no way they were at that point in their relationship yet! 

A nervous laugh came from Cooper and he abruptly stood where he swung his bag over his shoulder. 

“I’m going to drown myself in the bay now,” He announced before speed walking behind the nearest bookcase and disappearing. 

Logan sniffed as his snickers died completely, “Hey, did he just—“ 

Mateo was already shoving his things into his bag to go after Cooper however. He was only slightly concerned that Cooper might actually try and drown himself so most of his urgency came from the fact that he didn’t want to end things on note that had just happened. 

“Come on Z-Blob,” Mateo told his green little friend as he picked him up, “Let’s go catch up to Cooper.” 

Logan blinked, “Wha-bro! You just gonna leave me here?” 

Mateo gave Logan a look that he hoped came off as more curious than pissed, “You can come if you want, I never said you couldn’t.” 

Logan stared at Mateo with his weird beast like stare for a moment before shrugging, “I was just being dramatic, this doesn’t really seem to need us getting involved,” and just as Logan started to lean back in his chair to relax he stopped and added, “Ai, you probably know this but physical contact will help keep him from going off to anxiety land.” 

Mateo nodded sharply, “Noted,” 

—————————

Mateo had to admit that keeping up with someone as tall as Cooper was an exercise in and of itself. By the time Mateo had even managed to find him Cooper was already all the way down the street heading in the direction of the park. 

After spending a few blocks closing the distance between them Mateo called out, “COOPER! Wait up!” 

Cooper tensed at that, his shoulders rasing, and instead of slowing down he started walking faster. 

Mateo groaned, add physical activity to the list of things he hated. 

“Hey! Cooper! Cooper stop!” Mateo yelled, deciding to take the speaking approach instead of continuing to chase after him, “I just wanna talk!” 

Cooper slowed slightly but he still wasn’t stopped completely.

A sour taste grew in Mateo’s mouth, god this was starting to remind him of something he’d much rather forget. In spite of it though Mateo called out, “Don’t run away from me again! Please!” 

That stopped Cooper in his tracks but it left Mateo with a growing guilty feeling that made his gut churn. 

Mateo hurried over to Cooper and once he was within an arm's length away he grabbed Cooper’s fisted hand in his own and rounded around to face Cooper. 

Cooper’s face was scrunched up like he was in physical pain but Mateo couldn’t blame him, they were no doubt remembering the same thing. 

Of course that’s when Mateo’s words failed him, but he couldn’t just say nothing! 

Mateo growled at himself why was drawing and writing so much easier than talking? Why couldn’t he just make this a comic and explain to Cooper everything he wanted to? Izzie was so much better at words than him. 

“‘Teo?” Cooper asked. 

Mateo grit his teeth together but rather than force himself to meet Cooper’s eyes he let go of Cooper’s hand and pulled him into a hug. 

Cooper stiffened but as the hug continued he seemed to melt into Mateo’s grip and hugged him back just as tight. 

“Words… suck,” Mateo grumbled. 

Cooper only hummed and buried his face into Mateo’s hair where he pressed a kiss. 

“Yeah I know, they love betraying you,” Cooper agreed.  

Mateo nodded and then pulled away slightly, “But did—“ 

Damn words. 

Luckily Cooper picked up on what Mateo was trying to ask, “I do, I do love you.” 

Mateo couldn’t help the small quiver that came to his lips, he felt like if he smiled too wide he’d start crying. So he buried his face back into Cooper’s chest and squeezed as hard as he could. Maybe he’d never have the words to convey what he was feeling but Mateo was pretty sure Cooper knew him well enough to know.