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hotheadedhero · 8 months ago

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Ok question how would the tmnt bros (all 4) react to someone having a crush on them, and they confess, but the turtle rejects at time... but later on he realizes no wait I actually do like them!

But theres already been like a good month or more since the confession and their crush has been sorta avoiding them by hanging out with the other turtle bros and though still being polite, they avoid like being alone with their turtle crush and try to act like they don't have a crush still(but they do)

Sorry if I didn't write the request right! and thanks for your writing I love how you write the turtles!

Frothing at the mouth. No words. Speechless. Thank you so much anon! This request is absolutely amazing and tugged at my heart in all the good ways, you beauty. So glad you like my writing tyty <3 Apologies for the wait btw :] I might have meddled with the idea a bit depending on the turtle but I hope this is the kind of thing you were hoping for! May even make a part 2 continuation because there was just so much to write, this was really a lot of fun so thank you again :P I let fate decide which version to base this on and we got Bayverse!

Rejection, Realisation, and Regret

Warnings: bad language, grovelling turtles for their idiocy, angst with this in mind, oh these boys are some real idiots

Bay Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Turns you down as gently as he can but it still feels like a sucker punch to the gut. It may sound calloused but he's a ninja, a mutant, a protector before anything else and that includes being someone's boyfriend. With a constructive discussion on the matter, he can only hope that you understand his position. You assured him that you did.

So, then, how is it that he barely gets a conversation in with you these days? And why does that fact burn a hole in his stomach? This pit, although metaphorical, weighs down heavily on him. Assumably, he’s missing one-on-one with a friend until it truly occurs to him just what exactly is going on. There's a lesson to be learned here, he's sure - a saying that goes around as if taken from an ancient script: you don't realise how good you have it until it's gone. You're not gone perse but you make a point of avoiding him individually. As well-mannered as you try to be, he's noticed and he's noticed the hurt in his belly that comes alongside it.

He thought things were okay, that despite the rejection, you would still be able to comfortably continue your friendship without any issues. It seems he managed even to fool himself. Being so caught up in what it means to be one of New York's self-acclaimed protectors, he was completely absentminded to the feelings that had been bubbling up inside him all along. No wonder he's been losing focus on his training as of late. He has attempted to try and talk to you about it but to no avail. Has your heart really been that broken?

For once, he doesn’t know what to do, or what decision should be made. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. Who's the one person he can turn to at a time like this? Come on. Who else would it be?

"Sensei, you know better than anyone that our position comes with complications. That we as ninjas are sworn to certain oaths.”

"Yes, the duty of yourself and your brothers is indeed a heavy burden. Responsibility comes with risk and consequence as I am sure you are well aware of by now.” Splinter watches his son bow down as he thoughtfully strokes his beard.�� "However, sensei, rat, master; alongside all of these things, I am foremost a father who wishes to see his sons be happy. You're in love, are you not?"

Leo’s attention quickly turns up from the floor to his master. How had he figured it out? Must be that parental instinct. Either way, he’s thankful for that in some respect. It makes this easier. Less complicated.

The turtle nods and breathes out, "I am, Sensei."

"That's what I thought." His father lays a hand over Leo’s shoulder before it taps him against the side of his head. "Now, what are you waiting for? Talking to me isn't going to change the situation."

Splinter is right. It's high time for him to get out of his funk and strategise the best way to make amends. He can only hope he isn’t too late.

Raphael

Rejects you thinking it was some sick prank curated by his youngest brother or something. There's no way you have a thing for him. He's a mutant and you're a human. How could someone actually be in love with a freak like himself? That's why he blows up in your face when you attempt to pour your heart out to him. Whatever joke you thought would be funny, isn't.

He may have taken things out of proportion. This much is made obvious enough by the poorly thought-out excuses you make just to avoid being alone with him. Yeah, that's right, he thinks. You should feel ashamed for trying to pull a stupid stunt like that, for trying to mess with him. He's standing firm on his self-assurance. Don't think for a second that he's going to lose sleep over what he said that day.

However, life has a very funny way of playing its own game. It all comes to fruition when you're laughing with the leader of the brothers. When your hand landed on his forearm, Raphael was struck with something fierce. The shot of jealousy to his heart almost takes him for a wild spin but he disregards it for typical Leo/Raph rivalry. Until that night, anyway. This man is tossing and turning in bed, ruminating on that sickly feeling in his chest; losing sleep over it. No. Surely not. He isn't in love with you. This isn't something that's been in the making for however long now. So what if you managed to calm him down quicker than anyone else he's ever known? Big whoop if you used to make a point of checking up on him when no one dared to go near him. It’s no big deal that you’d hype him up and cheer him on before each mission.

Fuck. He's been in love with you this whole time, hasn't he? Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was probably the only chance he had at something close to normal in his life and he trampled over it like it was nothing. That's assuming it was even genuinely meant from your end to begin with. He still has his doubts all things considered. Either way, he can’t just sit in bed and wallow in his head all night. He needs some air.

"What crawled up your shell and died?"

Great. He had hoped to get some peace and quiet. Not that this city knows the definition of either word but that isn’t the point.

"Not now, Jones. I ain't in the mood."

Casey's head rolls against his shoulders and he sighs, "Hey, if this is to do with (Y/n) ignoring you, what do you expect? 'Can't just make someone cry and expect things to be okay after without an apology."

Raph's mask slowly descends and hoods over his eyes, those of which are now staring down the detective.

"Oh, shit. You didn't know?"

No. No, he did not. He really made you cry? Why would you-? Ah. Two things smack him up the head at this moment: you meant every word of what you admitted a month ago and he is an absolute asshole. Despite already living in the sewers, he feels like the scum of the Earth.

That's it. No more holding back. No more being chicken. He might have ruined his chance but he can at least try and make things right by you.

Donatello

Aloof. Absolutely aloof and utterly clueless to the fact that you were even trying to admit your feelings for him. Yet, the way that the whole situation plays out makes it seem as though he had denied you. His head is usually stuck in a book or on one of the many screens that litter his quarters. What can you really expect of him? Unfortunately, this isn’t something that comes to mind nor is taken into consideration when you attempt your casual proclamation. With his eyes glued to his computer, his inattentiveness could only be read as uninterest to which you find it’s probably best to withdraw yourself.

In the weeks to come, it still doesn't even occur to him that you were confessing. The only thing that dawns on him from your weirdly abrupt absence is how strange it feels without you around. You still engage in your regular visits to the lair but are always elusive to his corner. Had he missed a memo? He can't quite place a finger on your change in behaviour. Then he realises just how much he enjoys and misses your presence. Even just how you'd pass by his little section of the lair and do something as small as asking him what he's working on. The small details should always get their chance in the spotlight but he managed to miss them when they were right there in front of him. When you were in front of him.

Subsequent to this steady progression of fluttering heart palpitations upon the thought of you and his drying throat when he tries to speak your way, he decides to take some action. At least, that’s the plan he has in his head. You hardly look his way, so he needs to find a way to gain your attention. There must be some way. With somewhat of an idea in mind, he dials a number through his computer and lets it ring.

The other side of the line picks up and there’s a voice. “If this has anything to do with goons, aliens or whatever trouble you guys have gotten yourselves into, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Relax, Vern. This is something that entirely requires your expertise without life endangerment. I need to ask about women,” Donnie confirms, cutting right to the chase.

There’s a pause. "What-?” Another longer pause and then an inhale. “Can't you just ask one of your brothers or something?"

Yeah, right, because his family of sewer dwellers are so well-equipped for this matter. Even asking for Vern's aid is pushing the boat a little but it's better than nothing - a baseline structure of what to expect is all he needs. The internet would probably be more reliable but it doesn’t include that vital real-world experience.

"You engage in frequent courting. By all accounts, you're the only person I know who has enough field experience to give advice."

This might be giving Vern too much credit but this is a surefire way to get what he wants. Feeding a man's ego can accomplish many things. Call it manipulation of the circumstances if you will but no harm done.

"You know what?” There’s a brightness in his tone, an uptilted cadence in Vern’s rhetorical question. Bingo. “You being the smart one has never been more accurate, Don. Alright, I'll help you."

The notes he takes are unfathomable but he wants to make sure that everything is thought out with careful precision. That's not even taking into account that he needs to muster the courage to ask you out in the first place.

Michelangelo

One would think that this guy would be jumping with unparalleled joy to have someone confess their feelings for him but he's got eyes for someone else. April O'Neil is his one true babycake, his angel face, the first love he had ever known. He turns you down in the friendly way one would expect him to if not a little cocky. Who wouldn't want a piece of the MC Mikey? There aren’t any hard feelings though, right?

Well, no but the sting that follows is still too much for you to handle. Too much in fact that you decide it's best to recoil into a shell of your own and spend less time with the loveable terrapin. Such a shame as well considering you're missing out on your regular gaming sessions together. It probably sucks big time to be rejected but he meant no harm by it. He thought you could still hang out as you normally would. Perhaps you just needed some time. That’s what he reckoned until the days turned to weeks and those weeks to almost two months.

He’s subjected to playing bystander when you hang out with his family, barely getting a chance to have a word with you alone. If this treatment is good for anything, it gives him a chance to spectate and watch how you interact with those around you rather than directly with him. He recognises how much he adores that sparkle in your eyes, the playfulness of your tone when you crack out jokes with his brothers, how you light up the entire lair when you make your presence known. There is this unshakable spirit within you that he somehow never noticed until a few days prior when you took the liberty of playing an incredibly bold practical joke at Casey's expense. Man, this turtle's heart sored higher than it ever has before, which is saying something considering he had to jump out of a plane once.

Well, colour him surprised. He was so sure of himself that New York's favourite journalist was the only one for him but it seems he was wrong. Oh, man. He's feeling pretty bad now. He can surely make up for what happened though, right? Hopefully. There's only one way of finding out but he has one thing he needs to do first before talking to you.

"I'm sorry, angel face. My sights have been led astray. My loyalty shouldn’t be doubted but it’s for someone else now.”

The way Mikey is knelt down, head lowered with April’s hands in his own is a perplexing sight if not curiously amusing. His feelings and the pronounced “dibs” on the reporter have been no secret but his recent infatuation with you hasn’t been much of a secret either. Not to her anyway but she likes to think she’s good at picking up on these things.

“Just know that you'll always have a special place in my heart,” he finishes, ending the overly dramatised display by holding a fist to his chest.

"Considerate as always." Her expression is somewhere between humoured and endeared, fighting the shake of her head at how adorably ridiculous this turtle can be. "Thanks, Mikey."

Now that's out of the way, he can go into this with a clear head. Although, the only thing really going into this is going to be all of his heart.

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thollandneedy · 4 months ago

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Don't you know- Peter Parker

A/n: Nah 'cause that fucking happened to me last week and i HAD TO write about it (Ofc with very different context and description). Btw, i listened to "Don't you know" by James Young while writing it, in case someone likes to listen to music while reading

Warnings: Swearing and smut

Summary: Peter and Y/n get stuck on traffic, but that doesn't mean that it have to be boring...

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

"Shut up" Y/n exclaims, smiling at her boyfriend.

"I told you May, would get me one," Peter comments, crossing his arms and looking sideways at the girl next to him, who seems to be enchanted by the small black car the boy had gotten for his eighteenth birthday.

"It's so cute! I love it." The girl laughs, walking a few steps forward and leaning her weight on the open window, so that she can see the details of the car her boyfriend had won.

"Say goodbye to meters and borrowed cars. Now I'm a new man." Peter walked to the front door, opened it and sat down in the driver's seat. His body slouches forward, reaching out and pulling the door open so that his girlfriend can get into the car too. "And I'm going to take my dear lady for a ride in this little beauty here" The brunette put both hands on the steering wheel.

May had always been a hard-working woman, and supporting her nephew when the boy's parents died had become a kind of livelihood so that she could have the energy to work. Due to financial difficulties, Peter didn't have anything above his aunt's budget, but after a promotion, she had finally managed to scrape together enough to give her nephew a car. Stark had also helped with some of the finances and to make the car more powerful than it already was, so it was a gift from both of them to the hero.

Y/n put on her seatbelt, pulling one of its sides until she could feel the pressure against her body. The girl slipped one of her free hands over Peter's hand, which was on the automatic gearshift, allowing him to give it to her after shifting into gear and continuing his journey. Late evening in New York was slowly falling, as the orange light from the buildings reflected off the crowded streets during rush hour. A few bars and restaurants were starting to open, and Peter had his plan to take his girlfriend out for a bite to eat and then park their conversations in an empty parking lot so that they could also get some alone time. The girl took off her two shoes, crossed her legs covered by jeans, and opened Spotify on her transparent cell phone with a Polaroid photo of the two of them.

"Can I put on a song?" The girl asks.

"Sure, love." Peter updates the car's multimedia while his girlfriend searches for something to listen to.

"So, tell me. Who chose the car? Did you know you'd win?" The girl rests her hands on her lap.

"May had commented that one day she would give me everything I asked for, but it was never something I cared much about. She got a promotion at the hospital, and consequently her salary increased. Ever since I turned 16, she was raking it in." Peter comments without taking his eyes off the street.

"So you're going to be my private driver?" Y/n asked jokingly, causing the brunette to check his eyes in response.

"As far as I know, you have a driver's license." The hero laughs.

"Why would I drive if now you can take me wherever I want? I thought that was the definition of a passanger princess." The girl put her hand to her chest in an attempt to express surprise.

"Oh yes! Of course." Peter laughs.

(...)

"I'm literally going to explode," Peter says, opening the restaurant door so that his girlfriend can get out first.

"Tell me about it." The girl says, putting her hand on her stomach and then looking at the time on her cell phone. "Fuck, we've got to get going. My parents will kill me if I'm late on a weekday."

"I thought they'd take it easy on you after eighteen." Peter takes the car key out of his pocket.

"They trust me, but still, we live in New York and they're worried." The girl shrugged, unable to contradict her parents.

"I'll take care of you, kitten. You're safe from the dangers of the night when you walk with me." Peter says proudly, causing a low chuckle from his girlfriend who was walking with her arms crossed.

"Of course! Let's pull you out of the superhero closet and tell my parents that I'm dating a guy who could have an accident at any moment in a fight with evil, technological villains." Y/n opens the car door, then sits down again.

"I think it's a great idea. We can let them know that you'll be moving in with me when I pass MIT, and we'll live in a house in the country with two kids and a dog." Peter comments, closing the car door and continuing his journey.

The white lights of the streets, together with the moon, gave the teenagers an unreal feeling. That feeling that the world isn't real, and their existence is just another speck in the middle of several grains of sand on a beach called the universe. The car drove slowly, on purpose, as Peter didn't want his girlfriend to leave. A slow song was playing on Y/n's Bluetooth, which responded to the music by diverting its eyes from the multimedia system implanted in the center of the car's dashboard.

Peter laughed out loud when he read the name of the playlist the song was part of

"Really? Sexy guilty pleasure? That's the name of your sex playlist?" Peter makes fun of his girlfriend, who stares at him while holding in her laughter.

"In my defense, I started it when I was 16 and I haven't changed it because I find the name comical." The girl smiles as she says it, remembering when she had started exploring the literary universe of hot scenes in books that seemed innocent.

"Your sex life is comical, Y/n." Peter laughs, but then realizes what he's just said, and also jokes about himself without realizing it.

Y/n laughs out loud

"You're terrible at insults." The girl nods, looking at the passing streets like a drawing blurred by the speed of the car.

"Why haven't I ever heard that playlist?" The brunette lowered his eyes again to the name of the playlist playing in his car.

"I use it from time to time to read, or even when I... well... you know." Peter feels the blush rising to his cheeks.

His sex life with Y/n was almost restricted, and could even be considered for those over 14 if they were to classify it. Peter and Y/n hadn't had sex yet, let alone talked about it openly since their time together was considerably short. Even when they were friends, the subject of sex had never come up, unless they were in a circle of older friends and both were drunk. But even in this state, it seemed like a great sin to talk about sex.

"Really?" Peter swallows dryly, stopping at a red light and running both hands down his dark-wash jeans. "And what's that like?"

Y/n sucks in a breath when she hears her boyfriend's question. Their eyes meet, then dart away again in an attempt to make the conversation as awkward as possible. Y/n never had a problem talking about sex, but when it came to Peter, even his presence made her nervous.

"When I..." The girl tries to finish the sentence, really being precise in asking if he was asking about what she does in the long hours alone at night while Peter is asleep.

The boy can hear his girlfriend's heartbeat increasing and her throat swallowing.

"That's it." He cuts her off.

The light turns green, and the blaring horn of a car cuts through the tension created between the two. Peter turns his eyes to the busy streets, while Y/n searches for confidence in herself.

She looks at him out of the corner of her eye.

Gray shirt clinging to her toned muscles

Tight pants drawing her ass in perfectly

Puffed-out chest

Perfectly wavy hair

Her legs cross over each other, shrinking her body.

“Holy fuck” Peter thinks when he saw his girlfriend crossing her legs

"It's nice. I like listening to music and closing my eyes, because I seem to get lost in time and sensation." The girl says, still silently watching hers boyfriend's reaction. "I like being without anything on my body. Just the cold sheets because of the air conditioning I turn on, so I don't sweat so much."

Peter pressed the steering wheel against his hands

"And what do you think about?" The boy asks as if his words were sailing over brittle ice.

Y/n takes a deep breath, turning half her torso towards her boyfriend.

What was she thinking?

Perhaps the times her parents went out on business, and the couple found themselves on the sofa taking off only their blouses. Or when she first felt Peter hard while she was on his lap kissing him

When he came out of the shower with just a towel tied around his waist, and his hair dripping with cold water.

When he used his index finger to touch her chin, and pull her into a kiss

Those same fingers that could touch you so deeply that your legs would collapse without the strength to stand up, and he would pick you up to use you once again as whatever he wanted you to be. Only he could make you feel so wet that you didn't want his touch so close for fear of losing the track.

"You"

Peter feels his cock against the factory of his underpants.

"Tell me about what." His voice comes out sultry, as if for a few seconds, he had put his shame aside. "I want to hear you, love," the brunette asked, taking one of his hands off the gearshift and slowly reaching for Y/n's hand, which was resting on his thigh with the cell phone.

Peter had never acted or spoken like that, but he couldn't deny to himself that he wanted more. He always wanted more, not even if he had to imagine tasting his girlfriend's sweetness. His cock was throbbing against his pants, and he could feel it twitching inside them, while his breathing made a point of being nervous. Feeling Y/n on his fingers, wrinkling them with the groove of his cum, or even thinking about the sensation of his walls meeting his cock, made him lose his shame in seconds.

When he thought about it, it was something extremely out of touch with reality, but everything he wanted to do, fortunately the initiative had to come from him. Hearing from his own girlfriend that she masturbated thinking about what he was doing was like raising the hackles of a king

The car seemed to get smaller and smaller, and not even the wind in the air could stop them both wanting to take off their clothes. The leather seat seemed to cling to their sweaty skins, searching for something to hold them inside the car. For Y/n, she couldn't describe whether the situation was good or bad, as her sexual experiences had not been very positive during her teenage years.

"I think of your touch. That time we kissed, and I could feel you brushing past my thigh and slowly trying to find my clit." The girl adjusted her posture in the chair, letting her legs relax as well as her posture.

Peter, for his part, could feel everything she was feeling. His powers allowed him to see that she was getting more and more comfortable in the seat because her hard-on was increasing with every double entendre word that was directed at her, and it was a very interesting game to play in the car during a post-work commute in New York. The cars moved slowly, and even if the clock asked them to go faster, they didn't want to.

"Did you like it?" One of Peter's fingers slid down, tracing a straight line between the upper part of Y/n's thigh.

"Uh-huh." The girl commented, seeing that her hand had now lost the warmth of his touch, so that her body could feel it.

"Me too." Peter comments, allowing his whole hand to touch Y/n's thigh, squeezing it briefly as a silent sign of confirmation that everything was okay. Then, his middle finger traced a line down the middle of her legs, causing a low moan to escape Y/n's mouth, who, still embarrassed, allowed her legs to spread further apart. The hero's cock was begging to be touched, but this wasn't the first time he'd thought of doing it. His plan had always been to let things happen naturally, but he was also smart enough to know that now with a car, he had more freedom.

"Peter." Y/n's hand finds his fist. "And if anyone sees. There are traffic cameras that can...

"The windows are tinted." Parker comments, looking directly at his girlfriend's breasts which were becoming more and more exposed against her clingy blouse. " Are you okay?"

"Please." Y/n begs in a sly request, drawing a naughty smile from the brunette.

His index finger fingered his girlfriend's wet spot against the factory of her pants, putting pressure on the girl who relaxed her body against the seat. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other between his girlfriend's legs, Peter grunts to himself.

"Fuck, Y/n. You... you have no idea how much I've wanted to touch you for months." Peter confesses, biting his lip as he feels the girl roll against his fingers and lay her head back on the bench.

"You have?" The girl gasps.

"We've never been able to spend much time alone, and I've always refused to do anything because... fuck... I can't want to fuck you," Parker confesses, trying to balance the car, his hard-on and his girlfriend at the same time.

Y/n feels her feet fall from the stereotypical virgin pedestal she has built for herself. Peter had never been a saint, and as hard as it was to believe because of his cute face and lack of girl-talking skills, he was still a male teenager who had desires and wishes repressed by shame.

"Peter." Y/n groans lowly, gripping the hero's wrist tightly as he manages to find her weak spot.

A satisfied smile came from his lips as he began to make circular movements, causing the girl to moan a little louder. Y/n lowered her eyes to the pants that suddenly seemed to be tighter than usual on hers boyfriend. His decency as a person had gone, and all she could think about was tasting him and making him feel so good that he spoke his name out loud without caring if anyone heard.

"Yes. Speak my name, Y/n." The brunette asked, continuing his movements, but increasing the speed.

The friction was intense, and it would have been easy for her to finish right where she started, but her sense of justice and pity tried to speak louder.

"I wanted to touch you." Y/n exposed, staring shamelessly at the bulge in Peter's pants.

"You talk so innocently as if you didn't want me to be fucking you with my fingers on this very bench." Peter lets out a sarcastic laugh, denying it to himself, and casting a longing glance at him.

Y/n's walls contract as he speaks, as if his body had a will of its own and felt empty when he had nothing to satisfy his carnal desires.

"I can hear your heart racing, darling." Peter takes his hand off the wheel for a moment, squeezing his hard cock as a form of relief.

Removing the hand that was between his girlfriend's legs, he adjusts the rearview mirror and looks both ways down the avenue.

"Why did you stop?" The girl straightens her posture in concern.

"I need you now."

"What?" Y/n swallows dryly.

"I want to have sex with you now. Do you?" Parker asks angrily.

Without thinking, Y/n replies:

"I want to"

"Okay." The boy shifts into gear so that he can change lanes and find another road that leads further away. In a moment of anxiety, the car dies. "Fuck!" Peter curses, drawing a nervous smile from his girlfriend.

"Let's get out of here, Parker. I'm dying to get a taste of you."

#tom holland #tom holland x fem #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker oneshot #peter parker #peter parker x fem!reader #mcu!peter x reader #mcu!peter parker #mcu peter parker #peter parker spiderman

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crazyforclones · 6 months ago

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I am so ill over Mario and Peach

Continue reading to listen to me absolutely lose my mind over these goobers

Establishing character:

I just adore Mario and Peach so much. And before I get those funny people always like “oh Mario hates peach,” or “peach never “gives” Mario anything for saving her! He probably only does it to get something from her-“ Ima need yall to shut your trap ok 👹

First of all, Nintendo, especially with Mario characters, had no idea how to characterize their characters in the beginning. Peach changes in almost every single different medium. Take the old Nintendo power (I think) comic called the “super Mario adventures.” in which Peach is a lot more outgoing, strong, sassy, and a literal general.

Not saying this is a bad rendition of peach I actually like it! But I use it as an example of how these characters have changed over the years. And also, often times in games or stories like these where they focus more on the characters than gameplay, we see a more accurate and fleshed out character. Which is why in some other Mario games, characters often say things that might seem rude or out of character but is put there for comedy. (Nintendo obsession with making fun of Luigi in every rpg game is an example 💀). And the same goes for Mario, he’s changed a lot. But I feel in the current renditions of the characters, they have a much more stable idea of their character.

Also another cute picture from the comic-(sorry quality poopy I took it from mine)

This is peach dreaming about marrying Mario btw.

Mario’s character:

From what we see now, Mario is just an average blue collar man in his late twenty’s who is quite short and also plump. Despite this he is still THE most brave, athletic, talented, determined, occasionally hot headed, and an overall idol to the entire mushroom kingdom. He is often labeled as THE Mario. And people also express their surprised when they actually see what he looks like 💀. But the reason I bring this up is Mario is quite literally just some guy. He’s some guy who entered this foreign kingdom, heard there was a Princess in trouble, and as a New York Italien blue collar worker he could’ve easily just went on with his day or ignored these random peoples pleas, but instead, he immediately decides he will travel multiple worlds so he can save this princess and help the kingdom (also cause the game needed a incentive but still-). From the get go mario was ready to help people. He helps them not expecting anything in return, but because he has a good sense of Justice. There’s hundreds of side quests you can do with Mario, sometimes they’re ridiculous. But you know what? Mario will do it. Because he likes helping people. Because he’s a role model. And because he’s just a good guy.

Mario and Peach as a couple:

Most of the time, people who criticize or make fun of their relationship are often doing it as a joke which is fine, but this is for the people who genuinely think Peach is a jerk for not giving Mario “more” for what he does.

People often say “Mario has saved her so many times and all he gets is a kiss on the cheek!”

Now despite the fact Peach doesn’t owe Mario anything just because he saved her, I can see why people might be upset over this. However, like I said before, Mario does things not expecting rewards, but just because it’s the right thing to do and he has a duty.

People forget one dire things when it comes to love like this:

Love can be shown in many different ways

Peach kissing Mario in the cheek wasn’t proof that they were in love or together. I’d argue they weren’t really at all in the beginning. Except maybe a slight crush. A kiss on the cheek is often just a gesture of gratitude. Peach usually kissed anyone who saved her. It’s just her way of saying thank you.

What really shows that Mario and peach love one another is how they interact. The things they say and do. They don’t need to kiss to prove they’re in love, it’s simply implied with how they interact with one another. Whether it’s small gestures like holding one’s hand before a big game, or something such as trusting the other person to give you a boost so you can save your partners rabbid version of themselves from an evil space fish.

Or! It can be something more direct, like peach literally looking Mario in the eyes and saying this:

Or when she is scared but assured herself she will be ok as long as she has Mario!

It’s these little things that speak larger than words. Mario and peach simply have a relationship that is there but doesn’t need to be forced down your throats to convince you that they’re in love. They simply are. And their love is shown in many ways. Love comes in all shapes and sizes, and so does Mario and Peach!

Now have Mario dancing like a middle aged dad snapping his little fingers to make Peach laugh :)

#Mario #super mario #princess peach #Mario and peach #Mario and Princess peach #mareach #super Mario brothers #super Mario adventures #super Mario + rabbids #Mario rant #ramble #super mario rpg #Mario Party #mario kart #mario golf #princess toadstool

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2demondogs · 16 days ago

Note

With Chrismas around the corner (not really but basically), i would love an Arthur x GN!reader where Arthur proposes to reader for Chrismas and they obviously say yes because, well, it's Arthur, who wouldn't?

Anon did you read my mind. I was just thinking about proposal fics when you sent this ask because I have yet to stumble on one somehow... I'm sorry this took forever btw T-T

Shoutout to my platonic boyfriend for helping me with ideas because I got writer's block <3

Words: 3k oh my good lord Tags: canon divergence (it's just people leaving the gang a chapter early), Arthur does not have tuberculosis, INSTANT spoilers for character death, cheesy shit

It's been too long, you're realizing, since holidays like Christmas felt like special things. There is a double-edged feel to this one — it is the first since Hosea's death, since leaving the gang — but it is the first, in a very long time, that you've spent in the so-called right way: in a warm house with four solid walls and someone you love, how those fanciful books Mary-Beth used to talk your ear off about always wrote.

The house is warm enough, anyways.

There's work that needs done on the cabin. Some of the wood is rotting out and chipped at the corners, forming into sharp splinters that you've brushed against one too many times, but it is a house. You haven't had this pleasure since before joining the gang.

Sometimes, with how content Arthur seems at baseline, you wonder if he's had this pleasure since early childhood. On quieter evenings, ones less reserved for happiness than this one, there has been clipped discussion about how Arthur has never had domesticity like this. Silently, it was an admission of how good it is to share this freshness with you.

During a ride into town, he'd admitted that he had never picked up painting because it was the sort of thing only steady folks got to enjoy. You'd gotten him a set of oil paints when no one was looking — he's worth much more than a few measly dollars, but that means little if you haven't got them to begin with. Some habits die hard; he was happy you remembered what he'd said only a few hours before.

Come the new year, Arthur plans to find work that will pay. New things are a luxury neither of you care much to indulge in, but the repairs will take lumber and maybe a few extra hands. Ones with more expertise, at least, because Arthur's houses usually have not had foundations.

You could simply move now that time has passed, yes. You could find somewhere much farther away, maybe even New York, and pack yourselves in alongside the other sardines bustling about a city, undetectable in uniformity. Shave beards, got jobs, change clothes, cut hair and color it, too, if paranoia strikes— but keeping low to the ground has worked itself out so far, and there is no more of that deathlike stagnation in the air of this place.

Sentimentally, you think this Christmas will seal off whatever makes this cabin yours. Shadows linger, there's been a few odd creaks that've spooked the horses, and maybe it's going to shit a lot quicker than either of you want to admit, but it's your shit-house and the shared stubbornness between you has always brought you nothing but closer to one another.

Arthur is tired of running, and so are you. Last week, he talked about writing to Mary-Beth and Simon, maybe checking if Kieran — the utterance of the man's proper name was a confirmation of the last of that stockholmlike regret having worked out of his system — had broken and followed his little girlfriend. It wasn't said with malice, just some amusement.

"Why do you think he would?" You'd asked.

"Dutch only saves people who don't ask for it," he'd said, and that wistful look in his eyes vanished before you could ask what it meant.

Maybe it's the hard work that makes it feel like a real, true holiday. Pearson and Grimshaw stopped working everyone harder in the winter over the years, once the familial glamour faded with each new addition to the gang. It was no longer a tight-knit group, but a posse, more or less, of runaways and strays all against a big, evil thing like the rest of the world, or whatever it was that Dutch grew to fear.

Since November, Arthur has been saving the best catches to be salted and stored for Christmas dinner. Each addition is cleaner skinned and cut than the last, and the newfound worst of them ended up being ate upon his return from hunting. You've both been saving back herbs since summer, dried and ready to be crumbled into the heated up pot come time for a real feast. Cornbread was made by hand for the first time since you settled down here, drizzled with honey from the general store a ways out.

The latter was Arthur's only specific request for a fancy dinner. If you hadn't gotten him a single gift save for making it, he'd still be happy as a clam.

He's been putting that goddamned honey on everything. You're glad he seems to be enjoying things again, not as tightstrung as he was before you'd made off with him. That's how it feels, anyways, after the long and struggling conversations that were had before the decision was made. Family or life? It's a hard question for someone who has such little concept of either.

Now, the grey hair in his beard is catching the light from the fireplace where he's sat himself on a chair before it. They'd sprouted through the sun-bleached blond atop his head has been looking lighter and lighter in recent months, grey finally catching up to the discoloration and giving him some malcolored sort of tabby look. It's a good one on him, as much as he complains about looking old as dirt and that it's all formed by stress.

For all the lacking color, it adds a ruddy warmth to his face. Daydreams of growing old together find you when you focus on it, or on his wheezing laugh that's gotten worse with the cold weather. Despite the woolen vest he's been sporting, his fingers are as chilled as yours whenever they've brushed. Idly, you wonder if he's gotten whatever Hosea grew into, then remember they were never by blood.

Arthur hadn't wanted you to get him any gifts. When you asked if he would get you something, he'd flushed and changed his mind, apparently already having done it.

Whatever it is, it's good-sized, wrapped in one of the dustcloths you'd gotten him alongside the paints. He's been spending more time painting, lately, tucked in the treeline and looking over the cabin or deeper into the woods, studying something plein air the way those professionals do. He'd propped it against the wall this morning, and once you've settled on the floor before the fireplace — too cold outside not to crowd close to it — after dinner, he looks between you and the cloth like he isn't sure what to do.

"D'you wanna do the honors?" He asks, and grins although the twitch of his eye tells you he's covering timidity with faux cockiness.

"You go ahead," you say, half because he's closer. Tormenting him in small ways must be part of any good gift.

The painting is an image you recognize. A photo that one of the girls took for you months before things went down the hole, using the camera Arthur was loaned by some feller in town who wanted photos taken for a book. He never returned it, and it more or less became something he tucked beneath his cot and let the elements beat around. You can't remember, now, who it was or where he went to get it developed.

The little inkling of pride you felt knowing he kept putting off getting the negatives developed — not enough money, not enough time — yet was gone the next morning to have yours developed returns, now.

It's a much nicer rendition of it, your clothes not dirty and his arm around your waist, the other holding his hat to his chest. It's clear he preferred to give your portrait more detail, his own lagging somewhere behind in clarity and looking closer to the photo. You suppose it's easier to look at someone besides himself, but there's a clearer enjoyment in the lines of you, more care taken in the color mixes.

Ignoring the dense joy of the implications of that, of how obvious it is, proves difficult. Your cheeks twinge some from the wide smile before you realize you're even reacting.

"You'll be a big name someday," you say, and he may as well shrink in on himself beneath the praise, although he's heard it plenty of times before.

"Naw," he waves a hand. "Quit that."

"Really, Arthur." Scooting closer, laying your hands over his knee. He's moving his jaw when your eyes meet his, lays a hand over one of yours, heavy and warm. "It's beautiful. I love it."

"Good," he says. His jaw clicks. "I— uh, I love you."

The hunting knife you got for him seems small, though relatively equal. Arthur looks as pleased as ever studying it, half-mumbling appraisals of yeah, nice and sharp, sturdy to himself that likely would've stayed inside his head, if it weren't for wanting to show you he liked it.

A bone handle, which he feels over with his fingers before noticing it's engraved, fits easy in his palm. You were afraid you push your luck with maintaining its quality too far adding the tiny, vague bear shape next to the deeper cut of his name. Already impressive was the fact that you hadn't ruined it with the letters, being one of your first expeditions into anything of the sort.

"I would've gotten you one of those folding knives," you explain. "But they don't hold up as well, and I know you have one."

The army knife was Hosea's.

"Needed me a new huntin' knife," Arthur says. You know, because he's complained about his current one being close to snapping with all the skinning he does anymore. He squints at the handle, turns it over in the light from the fire. "Did you engrave the handle?"

"Yessir."

He smiles. "It's real nice," he says, pats his palm with the blade softly. It makes a dull noise, sturdy metal on skin. "Why a bear?"

"They remind me of you," you admit. Really, you'd spent a long time considering what else to add, because only his name seemed so plain; although he wouldn't be opposed to flowers or vines, they are a little more intricate than a simplified bear head. "Big and strong. Hairy, too. I'd like to hug one."

He snorts a laugh, but it seems thin. His eyes are fond enough on you that it couldn't be any rejection of your words, and so you brush it off. "You wanna hug a bear?" He asks.

"In a perfect world," you amend. "Don't they look warm?"

"You'd better stick to me," he says, smooths a palm over the thigh of his jeans. The nicest pair he owns, he promised you, because he feels ridiculous in slacks and seems to think you care what he wears.

Beyond thinking everything looks well on him, at least. You often find yourself concerned with that thought.

"I got you somethin' else," Arthur starts, running a finger over the bunched inseam at his own knee. "Well, uh— it's f'both of us, really."

Isn't that intriguing, you think, but your silent, undivided attention seems to make him outright nervous, so you say: "Oh?"

Some conflict happens over his face as he pulls his vest collar away and reaches into the inner pocket, takes out a stack of thin papers that he glances over before apparently relenting to something. Confusion finds you, until he takes a deep breath and holds them towards you.

"Read these," is all he says, and he sounds like it's almost painful.

He's written much, much more than that. Your stomach turns, once or twice, realizing they are pages from his journal. Uncertain why, until the first entries which are skittering on affectionate fade into ones much more flowery. They are all about you, days you'd spent together or times you hadn't, the things you've given him over the years and the things he wished he could've given you.

Each page makes your chest feel tight with a panicked joy, as if his hands were not fiddling with the new knife to occupy — distract? — himself but clenching hard at your heart.

One, near the beginning, says he thought of pickin' a pretty lil' flower, God bless it, I feel ridiculous; on the back of the next is pressed a variegated tulip, crumbling with age but holding firm to whatever adhesive glues it to the paper. Again, that creeping smile, like thyme. Another entry is entirely about your hair, because it had brushed his arm. Only a few sentences made up that page, below the cursive a choppy sketch of your horse.

Certainly, Arthur stays busy in his head. You've always known as much, but never figured any of it was about you. Not like this, anyways, though the dates spread from the week before Blackwater and you can only wonder what laid in that journal he lost before.

"Oh, Arthur," you start, looking up from a third-way through, feeling giddy but not wanting him to watch you so intently while you finish them. No wonder he was shy. It's his heart. "You're so sweet."

"Finish readin' 'em," Arthur says, doesn't meet your eyes at first. When he does, they're gentle. "They get sweeter, y'know, better finish 'em. 'Cause of that."

He is nervous. Hardly moving, besides the tongue running over his teeth beneath his lips, and the rambling every time he opens his mouth. You don't mind, never have. He's endearing like this.

Outings you'd went on infrequently, the dates of his favorites underlined, you're noticing, based on the tone of his words in them; his worries and fears about courting you, and some of what you mean to him though, with its succinctness, you have a feeling he wouldn't dare put all of his genuine love to findable paper; things he likes about you, and one page where he admits that he cannot keep himself from documenting you in every other entry, which tells you this small collection is hardly everything. The previous entries turn over in your mind again, and you are struck on a random page for a moment as their meanings take hold, realizing they were especially sliced from his journal to show you.

The entries leading to the last are what set your mind and pulse ablaze. From the first appearance of the word marriage, you swallowed your idea of what may be coming — Arthur's breathing changing beside you doesn't help any, and it certainly does not help that he leans down once you've reached the last page, plucking it from your hands. Before he does, you notice quite a few crossed out lines, scribbles as if he were frustrated with not being able to find the right words.

"Think I've got the balls on me to read this one aloud, at the very least," he says, voice laced with a chuckle. Breath comes uneasy, but you collect yourself enough to gather the pages back into a neat, ordered stack in your lap. "Unless you'd rather spare me," he adds, nudges your knee with the toe of his shoe.

"No." Your voice sounds strange, even to you. "Do me the honors."

Arthur bites his cheek, nods and lets it fall as he smiles. Still, his hand finds the back of his neck, the page held between two fingers that remain surprisingly steady. The knife lingers in his hand beneath it, and isn't it just like him to propose holding a weapon.

Propose. It takes its first toll on you, rolls over your back in shards of tingling.

"December twenty-fifth, eighteen ninety-nine," he starts, eyes flicking to your face every other word until the intensity of your gaze must make him too anxious. "It's a nice little life, livin' with the one I love," — rubbing his mouth, sighing some — "Jesus, I always gotta be sappy." You laugh, though it comes out more forceful than you intended, and relax some until he continues. "The thought of another day where anythin' could happen 'n' we ain't bound is somethin' I hate."

Arthur pauses, stands up and places the journal entry on his chair. You take his hands when he holds them out to where you sit, grunting when he hauls you off the ground with more force than you expected, feet shuffling into place to stick all-too-close to his. His hands are burning, skin feverish when you grab his wrists, as if you'd ever want to stop him as he eases onto a knee before you.

And his eyes throw you off balance, too, catching the light just enough that you can tell they are stinging. So are your own, now that you think about it, but intelligent thoughts go out the window once you sense him about to speak.

"I wanna be 'til death do us part," Arthur confesses, fumbles to catch both of your hands in his in an awkward, squeezing hug of a hold.

The way your bones catch on one another, well— it's not a sensation you'll forget, like the first time he kissed you and you felt it still a week later, warm pressure on your mouth if you got too lost in the memory. He looks as good, looks so nice, and you know your fingers would be shaking if he weren't crowding them together, steady.

When he says your name, the blood is rushing through your ears too loud to hear it clearly; you almost want to ask him to do it again. "Will you marry me?"

Nodding, face slack before it spreads in a grin. "Yes," you say. "Of course I will."

His is hidden by how he lets go of your hands, catching them before they fall in stupid, limp joy back to your sides. He lays kisses along the knuckles, all three rows of them. It's so awfully saccharine and yet you could never tell him to quit being sweet— not now, not as he stumbles to his feet after you pull him up and shake off his hold to grab his face, tugging him into a kiss.

Arms come around your waist, squeeze tight enough to hurt, or to hold in place. Arthur runs a hand over your back, breaks the kiss to slide a hand into your hair and press your face to his chest, caging you in his arms. He smells warm, like good cologne, and you know he's been planning this.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #gender neutral reader #neutralreader #arthur morgan #ask #oneshot #fluff #sfw #rdr2 #reader insert #proposal fic

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chvoswxtch · 2 years ago

Text

it's like that

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: after taking on a new project at work, a figure from your past makes an appearance that doesn't sit well with frank.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of violence

word count: 8k

a/n: buckle up, sluts (I say with all the love in my heart). this part 4 & it is long (about 25 pages) so grab a snack, a drink, & get comfy. thank you to @imalittleanon for being my lovely beta reader, & thank all of you for continuing to enjoy reading this series as much as I love writing it. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

btw there's a few easter eggs from season 1 of the punisher in this. enjoy 🖤

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

F. Castle

Those black letters had been staring up at you for over an hour. When you walked into your office this morning, the manila folder with Frank’s name on it was waiting on your desk. A furrow formed between your brows as you quickly looked around your office, not catching anyone’s eyes when you looked out into the hallway. You cautiously walked over towards your desk, fingertips barely tracing over the label with his name on it, as you tried to figure out who might have left it.

Your fingers paused when a name suddenly popped into your head.

Billy.

»»———　　———««

“Where the hell’s he goin’?”

Billy stared down at you curiously, eyes continuously darting back and forth between Frank’s ghost and your stunned expression. You hadn’t realized that you’d still been standing in the exact spot that Frank left you in, completely oblivious of all the other couples dancing around your statue. Billy gently grabbed onto your shoulder, dark brows pulling together towards the center of his forehead as he bent down slightly to reach your eye level.

“Y/N?”

“I wanna go home.”

Billy’s face immediately morphed into a more serious expression, and he transitioned into full on bodyguard mode. Wrapping his arm around your waist to lead you towards the hall with the elevators, he pulled an ear piece out of his pocket to slip in and brought his wrist up to his mouth to speak into his comms.

“Bring the car around front, now.”

Pressing the call button for one of the elevators, Billy turned his attention fully on your silent form.

“What happened?”

All you could think about was Frank’s words, echoing in your ears over and over and over as his vengeful glare bore into your eyes.

She died.

Billy grasped onto your shoulders a little firmer to capture your attention, bending down again to be level with your eyesight as he kept his voice calm.

“Y/N, I need you to tell me if this is an emotional thing, or a threat thing, so I know how to direct my guys. Because I’ve got no fuckin’ idea why Frank just took off like that, and the look on your face is makin’ me nervous. Talk to me, Y/N/N.”

“I just wanna go home, Billy.”

Billy’s stare was unwavering, even as the metal doors of the elevator parted with a ding. His dark eyes scanned over your face and entire body before he gave a slight nod of his head and ushered you into the elevator, pulling his comms up to his mouth again.

“Everyone report to your vehicles. We’re headed to the lobby. I’m takin’ Y/L/N home.”

The glass of the window was cool against your temple when you rested your head against it, closing your eyes for a moment as you let out a shuddering breath. All you could see flashing behind your eyelids was Frank’s face.

Billy pulled his ear piece out as he eyed you, tucking it back into his jacket pocket.

“What happened with Frank?”

“I shouldn’t have asked him.”

“Asked him what?”

The busy streets of New York passed by in a blur as you watched out the window, but you couldn’t see any of it. All you could see was his face.

“I thought…when I saw the ring around his neck…I thought he was getting divorced. I didn’t know that…that his wife…”

You couldn’t even finish that sentence. Your brain was still trying to process the way Frank had said it. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Billy immediately stiffen, and his facial features became darker as you looked over at him.

“Did you know her?”

Billy clenched his jaw tightly as he stared straight ahead, only giving a slight nod of his head.

“She was like family. She was family.”

“What hap-”

“Not my place to say.”

Billy’s voice was stern, with a slight edge to it, and you immediately let the endless questions bubbling in your throat die on your tongue. The rest of the ride was completely silent as you tried to wrap your brain around all of this new information. You knew that Billy and Frank had known each other for a long time, but you didn’t realize just how close they were. Your heart felt heavy in your chest, overflowing with guilt for ripping open a wound not just for Frank, but for Billy too.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…I wasn’t trying to…I’m-”

“You didn’t know.”

“It’s not my business.”

Billy’s eyes were a little more sympathetic than the rest of his features as he looked at you. As soon as his car pulled up outside your home, you rushed to unbuckle yourself, wanting to put as much distance between yourself and the mess you had made as possible.

“Thank you…for everything, tonight. I’m just gonna-”

“I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m still on the clock.”

Billy didn’t give you another chance to protest as he opened his door to get out, coming around to meet you on your side so that he could walk you up to your door. Whatever nerve you had struck with him had completely evaporated the playful mood he was usually in, and you found yourself missing that version of him in place of this one. Your fingers trembled as you pulled your keys from your purse, and your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you both stood in front of your door.

“Billy…I’m so sorry-”

“You can’t help it. It’s the investigative journalist in you.”

Billy attempted to give you a reassuring smile, but it never made it to the edges of his mouth. He let out a deep exhale through his nose, adjusting his tie as he glanced around silently for a moment.

“Give him time. Frankie’s kinda like a cat. You gotta let him come to you.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you traced your thumb over your key, staring down at it for a moment as you tried to figure out what to say. You didn’t want to see the hurt and disappointment in Billy’s eyes.

“Thank you…for coming with me tonight. And…for everything. I really appreciate it.”

“If you wanted to go on a date with me so bad, all you had to do was ask, doll.”

When your eyes snapped up, Billy’s signature cocky smirk was back on his lips, and his eyes were softer and shining with mischief. A little bit of the weight from earlier felt like it had been lifted off your shoulders, and you rolled your eyes as you tried to fight the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth.

“I’d never give you the satisfaction, Russo.”

»»———　　———««

Billy had to have been the one that left it. But why? What did he want you to know?

You had spent the past hour waging an internal war with yourself over it. Part of you desperately wanted to know what was inside, especially if it had answers about Frank and his wife. A bigger part of you felt guilty at the idea of invading his privacy like that. If he wanted you to know, he would tell you.

Why would Frank want you to know? Why had he even brought it up at the gala? He could’ve lied. He could’ve said anything but that.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you grabbed the folder and shoved it into your bag, deciding it was a problem for later since you had a staff meeting in five minutes. Grabbing your notebook and pen in one hand and your coffee in the other, you made your way to the large meeting room where everyone was gathering around, taking a seat towards the front of the long table. Your editor adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose as he clasped his hands together.

“Alright, I’m sure most of you heard by now, but there was another bomb attack this morning right in front of the Royal Hospitality hotel. We don’t have a lot of details right now, but we do know a car parked out front was rigged to explode. This was most likely directed at senatorial candidate Stan Ori. He was supposed to deliver a speech there for his campaign about gun control this morning. We don’t have confirmation on the number of injuries or deaths yet. Ground team, I want you as close to the scene as possible. Get me everything you can: eye witness statements, pictures, anything. Internal team, I want you contacting all our sources at NYPD and Metro General for anything we can use. We need to run something today, the sooner the better. We clear? Alright, get to work. Y/L/N, stay back a minute.”

Confusion settled over your features as you stared up at your editor, watching as everyone quickly scattered out of the room. Once the two of you were alone, he let out a deep sigh and settled his hands on his hips while giving you a pointed look.

“I don’t want you touching this.”

Fury instantly spread through your bloodstream as you abruptly stood up from your chair.

“You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

“Ellison-”

“You are already too close to this. Do I need to remind you why you’re walking around with a shadow?”

“This is my job-”

“Your job is to write what I tell you, and I am telling you this is off limits.”

“Ellison, I was with Stan when they called into that radio interview. I can get an exclusive with him-”

“So they can threaten you?”

“They’ve already threatened me!”

“Which is exactly why you aren’t going anywhere near this, Y/N. I am not making the same mistake with you that I made with Ben. Do you understand?”

All the fire raging within you suddenly fizzled out at the mention of Ben’s name, and you slowly deflated. Ben Urich had been somewhat of a mentor to you when you started at the Bulletin. He had been an incredible writer that published some of the most groundbreaking stories the paper had ever seen, and he had begrudgingly taken you under his wing once he realized you weren’t going to give him an option not to. The office you worked out of now had once been his, and you hadn’t changed a single thing about it.

Ben had gotten too close to Wilson Fisk in the process of writing an article to expose him for what he really was, and while it was never proven in court, you knew Fisk had been the one that murdered him.

“Yeah…I understand.”

“I know you hate this shit. Okay, I do too. But pride is not worth losing your life over.”

“It’s not pride, Ellison. It’s…anger. I’m tired and angry.”

“Kind of a shame your beloved Punisher was gunned down. If there was ever a time I wished that guy was still alive, it’s now. Never thought I would ever say that, but…he probably would’ve had these assholes taken care of after the first attack. He was efficient, I’ll give him that.”

Shooting a glare in Ellison’s direction, you crossed your arms defiantly over your chest as you shook your head.

“He wasn’t-I never said he was…shut up.”

You knew Ellison was right to forbid you from covering the attacks. You had already put yourself at risk too much already. But it didn’t make it any less infuriating.

As you stormed back into your office, you slammed your door shut so hard, it rattled the hinges. A frustrated groan fell from your lips as you tiredly rubbed your palms down your face.

“That good, huh?”

Jumping at the sound of Frank’s deep voice cutting through the silence of your office, you quickly spun around to see him sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he stared over at you, and you swore you saw the faintest of smiles threatening to spill over his lips.

“What…where did you come from?”

“You want the long answer, or the short one?”

You stared at him in complete disbelief. Frank was sitting calmly in the corner of your office, giving you sass like he hadn’t just told you an Earth-shattering revelation no more than seventy-two hours ago before completely disappearing again. He cocked his head to the side as he stared over at you, arching one of his dark brows quizzically.

“Ya’know, as your keeper, it’s pretty concernin’ how little regard you have for your own safety.”

“What?”

“I coulda shot you, or came up behind you with a knife. You wouldn’t have even known I was in here. You really gotta start checkin’ rooms before you enter ‘em, and lockin’ your goddamn door. You even got anythin’ in here to protect yourself with?”

“Yeah, you.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed at your response, and you crossed your arms over your chest as you arched one of your brows in return. If he wanted to do sassy today, you could do sassy, and you could do it better.

“I meant a weapon, smartass.”

“Again, you. Isn’t that what they’re paying you for?”

“How ‘bout when I’m not here?”

“Then I get your replacement. At least, that’s what I’ve been getting every time you’ve gone MIA lately.”

Frank’s jaw instantly tensed at your snappy reply, and you didn’t miss the way he sat up a little straighter in the chair. Lightly scoffing, you rolled your eyes as you stalked over to your desk to sit down, tossing your notebook and pen carelessly onto it.

“Should I sign up for self defense classes? Or just skip straight to buying a gun, Frank? What’s your professional recommendation?”

Were you being bitchy? Absolutely. Did Frank deserve it? Abso-fucking-lutey. You were not in the mood to deal with his emotional whiplash today.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Just seems to be National Asshole Day, and lucky me. I get to deal with all the biggest contenders.”

Frank grunted in annoyance as a sharp exhale left his nose, and you could feel his eyes staring daggers into the side of your face.

“Whenever you’re done throwin’ your fuckin’ tantrum and can talk to me like an adult, let me know. Yeah?”

You swiftly whipped your head in Frank’s direction, eyes wild with rancor and bewilderment at the audacity for him to say that to you when he was the one that consistently vanished instead of communicating. Frank’s lips were pursed in almost a pout, and there was a clear challenge shining in his eyes as he stared you down. Both of you refused to look away, or blink, like you were having a fucking staring contest. But Frank clearly hadn’t learned by now that you were just as stubborn as he was.

“I’ll start when you start.”

A muscle feathered in Frank’s strong jaw, and he nodded his head slowly as he leaned back in the chair, spreading his legs a little wider as he calmly crossed his arms over his chest.

“So it’s like that, then?”

“Yeah, Frank. It’s like that.”

Frank stared you down silently as you narrowed your eyes in dissent, a look of irritation and complete exasperation etched onto his features. Shaking his head with a scoff, he slapped his hands on his thighs before suddenly standing, his boots thudding heavily against the floor as he marched over towards your door.

“Where are you going?”

“To find somethin’ to fix that fuckin’ attitude of yours.”

A scornful laugh slipped past your lips as Frank spoke to you over his shoulder, shutting your door far less than gently as he disappeared down the hallway. You slipped your fingers into your hair and ran them through to the ends in frustration, angrily unlocking your computer as you swore under your breath.

“Asshole.”

Twenty minutes later, Frank reappeared in your office, slamming a very large iced coffee along with a small brown paper bag down on your desk. A crease formed between your brows when you noticed the name of your favorite cafe on the cup, and you tilted your head back to look up at Frank in complete perplexity.

“What’s this?”

“Knowin’ you, you ain’t ate nothin’ today, and you’re particular ‘bout your coffee. Figured between bein’ hangry and drinkin’ that shit they pass off as coffee in your breakroom, this would take care of at least two reasons you’re such a ray of fuckin’ sunshine today.”

You’d been so wrapped up in watching the news coverage of the attack this morning, you had almost forgotten about your little spat with Frank earlier. You followed his large frame with your eyes as he plopped back down into the chair he had claimed as his, grunting as he stared out your window with a broody look on his face while sipping his own coffee.

Frank didn’t normally sit in your office. He usually sat outside to get a better vantage point of all the exits, and to keep an eye on who was coming through the building. There were usually two other guards with Frank that stayed outside in a car, and you knew they were there because you had seen them on your way in. Even though you were still a little upset with him about his behavior at the gala, it was comforting having him to keep you company. Even if you two were in the middle of an argument.

Reaching for the cup, you closed your eyes and let out a quiet hum of approval as the familiar taste of blonde espresso and sweet cream cold foam hit your taste buds. Frank had a point. The coffee in your break room was terrible, but you’d been in a rush this morning and hadn’t had time to make any of your own or stop by your favorite place. You had been forcing yourself to drink the break room coffee because you desperately needed the caffeine.

You had guzzled nearly a fourth of the cup when you finally opened your eyes, noticing that Frank was staring at you with a mixture of incredulity and entertainment on his face. He shook his head slowly as a deep chuckle sounded in his chest, lifting his own cup to take a sip as a delighted grin threatened to take over the corner of his mouth. A layer of blush instantly coated your cheeks at his reaction.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re so fuckin’ easy to please.”

For some reason that made you blush even harder, and your mouth snapped shut as you looked away to find your computer screen suddenly very interesting.

“Eat that damn muffin so we can call a truce.”

As nice as it was having Frank’s company, it was also pretty unnerving. You had to be hyper aware of everything you did knowing that he was watching you, which made you nervous considering you had a lot of weird fucking habits you mostly did subconsciously. Once you had sucked down half your coffee and eaten a good portion of the muffin, you looked over to find Frank already staring at you, arching one of his dark brows in question.

“You good now?”

Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you glanced down at your computer screen and nodded, too embarrassed to even look at him. Now that all your anger from earlier had vaporized, you felt bad about the way you had spoken to him. You had no idea what it was like to lose someone close to you like that. You had no knowledge of how something like that could change a person.

Ever since Frank had told you about his wife’s death, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You wondered how long it had been since he’d lost her, and how. You wondered if he got to say goodbye. You kept thinking about how you weren’t sure if you would have the strength to go on after losing the person you loved most. To try and find another purpose in life, a reason to get out of bed in the morning, any semblance of meaning again.

Frank stood up and came over to sit in the chair directly in front of your desk, setting his coffee cup down on the edge of it. You lifted your gaze to meet his, noting the softer look in his eyes and watching as he nodded in your direction with his chin.

“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on, now?”

A soft sigh slipped past your lips as you tucked your hair behind your ears, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your desk and hold onto the back of your neck with your hands.

“There was another attack this morning.”

“I heard.”

“Fifteen people were injured. Four of them…they aren’t sure if they’re gonna make it through the night. Three were killed. Ellison doesn’t want me anywhere near it. He told me to stay away, said it was too dangerous.”

“He’s right.”

Frank let out a sigh when you looked at him, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he glanced around your office.

“The more you antagonize ‘em, the harder they’re gonna come for you.”

“So I don’t get to do my job because they don’t like what I have to say.”

“If it keeps you safe, yeah.”

Letting out a heavy exhale, you sank back into your chair as you crossed your arms over your chest. Frank moved his chair closer to your desk so he could place his arms on it, leaning in closer as he looked at you with sympathy.

“I know it ain’t fair-”

“No, it isn’t. It’s frustrating. This whole thing is so…fucked. They’re hurting and…murdering innocent people, and for what? To terrorize people into agreeing with them? I just…I don’t understand how they haven’t been caught yet. How much longer do they get away with this?”

“They’re not gettin’ away with it.”

“I don’t know, Frank. It seems like they are. No one knows who these people are. There’s no leads, no solid evidence, nothing. And now, I’m not allowed to do my job. I don’t want them to take my silence as compliance, or fear. I don’t want them to think they got to me, and they won. And I realize that is a stupid thing to think right now, but this whole thing just…pisses me off. I just want this shit to be over. I mean, who the fuck just goes around blowing shit up like that?”

“There’s nothin’ in this world I hate as much as a goddamn bomb. Goddamn cowards. They think they’re gonna scare people into doin’ what they want. They’re wrong. It just pisses people off, ya’know, brings ‘em together, makes ‘em stronger. New York doesn’t forget. Whoever this is, they’re in for a world of shit.”

Rubbing your palms tiredly down your face, you let out another frustrated sigh.

“Hey, I know this shit sucks right now. But it ain’t gonna last forever. These fuckers are gonna get what’s comin’ to ‘em. Then you can go back to callin’ people pussies on the radio.”

A tiny smirk curled at the edge of your mouth as you looked across your desk at Frank.

“I wasn’t allowed to use that word.”

“I know. But I also know it’s the one you wanted to use.”

A knowing smirk ghosted over Frank’s lips, and it only made your smile stretch further. You tilted your head to the side as you looked over at him curiously.

“You listened to it?”

“Course. Read your articles too.”

“I didn’t know you were a fan, Frank.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, sweetheart. I was debriefed on you and why I was havin’ to follow your trouble makin’ ass around. It was part of my homework.”

“Whatever you say, Castle. Just let me know if you want me to sign something, or you know, a picture.”

Frank rolled his eyes as a chuckle slipped past his lips, leaning back into the chair as he folded his arms behind his head.

“Think I liked you better when you were mad at me.”

»»———　　———««

Frank tugged at the tie around his neck with a grunt, staring up at the looming courthouse in complete disdain.

“Don’t see why I gotta get all dressed up for this shit.”

“Frank, you’re wearing jeans. I’d hardly say you’re dressed up.”

“You said I gotta wear a tie.”

“Because there’s a dress code.”

“I don’t work here. The hell that gotta do with me?”

“Because I’m the press, and you’re with me.”

Frank let out another irritated grunt as he followed close behind you up the numerous sets of steps.

“I tell you lately I really don’t like your fuckin’ job?”

A loud laugh slipped past your lips at the annoyed look on Frank’s face, placing your hand on his shoulder when he opened the door for you.

“Sorry Castle, but since you and Ellison both seem to agree that I can’t do my normal job, I’m being forced to take the ones I’m given, which apparently includes interviewing politicians.”

Frank stared down at you in contempt as he rolled his eyes, motioning for you to go inside.

“Fuckin’ hate politics.”

Giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, you flashed him a grin.

“You and me both. I’ll try to make this as quick as humanly possible.”

As the elevator brought you and Frank up to the fourth floor, you took a moment to gloss over the interview questions Ellison had sent you. It was a last minute favor to him since the journalist originally doing this piece had called out sick, and you hadn’t had a chance to prep like you normally do.

“Who is it?”

“I’m not sure, one of the candidates running for District Attorney. I don’t normally cover this stuff.”

The elevator doors parted with a ding, and Frank followed close behind you as you made your way over towards the receptionist’s desk. There was an older redheaded woman at the desk in the center of the lobby that greeted you with a smile.

“Hi there. How can I help you?”

“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m here for a meeting with a-”

Glancing down at the paper in your hand, your eyes searched for the name of who you were interviewing, when suddenly a familiar voice rang in your ears.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the prettiest girl in all of New York.”

As you turned your head in the direction of the voice, you instantly stilled, and your eyes nearly doubled in size.

“Steven?”

“Hey beautiful.”

“What…what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

“What?”

Flashing you a grin he thought came off as charming, Steven motioned towards the paper in your hand with his finger as he walked over towards you.

“You’re interviewing me.”

Blinking a few times in dumbfoundment, your lips parted in almost shock as you stared down at the paper in your hands.

District Attorney Candidate: Steven Price.

No fucking way. There was no fucking way this was happening right now.

Twisting your face up in confusion, you cocked your head to the side as you stared at him in complete disbelief.

“Wait, you’re running for District Attorney?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Considering you would have a wrap sheet the length of my arm if your father wasn’t who he was, yeah. I am.”

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Steven’s lips parted into a wide grin as he let his eyes shamelessly wander over your body.

“Aww, you remember. That’s cute. C’mon, we can keep reminiscing in my office.”

Steven’s smile fell immediately when his gaze finally landed on Frank, as if he suddenly noticed his presence. How the hell he managed to miss the walking brick wall behind you that was Frank Castle, you weren’t sure, but Steven was nothing if not self-involved.

“You can wait out here.”

“The hell I can.”

Frank’s voice was rougher than usual when it came out, and you didn’t miss the way it made the Adam's apple in Steven’s throat bob. You fought the smirk that threatened to curl at the edge of your mouth as you took a step closer towards Frank and gently rested your hand on his arm.

“This is Frank. He’s with me.”

Steven’s blue eyes darted back and forth between yours and Frank’s, standing up a little straighter as he squared his shoulders in an attempt to make himself look bigger.

“Does he have to be?”

“I go where she goes.”

As he looked at you for confirmation, you lightly shrugged your shoulders in Steven’s direction with a playful smile.

“I wouldn’t bother arguing with him.”

Flashing Frank a look of complete dissatisfaction, Steven quickly tried to recompose himself as he plastered a tight lipped smile on his mouth.

“Alright then. This way.”

Interviewing your ex-boyfriend from college was certainly not on your agenda for today, and you were already rehearsing all of the creative ways you were going to cuss out Ellison when you got back to your office. Frank stood stoically by the door, hand over his wrist, with his intimidating gaze focused solely on Steven.

“So, how you been? You look great by the way. Better than great, actually. Somehow you’ve gotten even prettier.”

Backhanded compliments. Classic Steven Price.

Clearing your throat, you pulled out your notebook and a pen from your bag, keeping your eyes on the interview guide that Ellison had given you. Unlocking your phone, you searched for your voice notes app.

“You mind if I record this?”

“You can do whatever the hell you want with me princess, you know that.”

Glancing up briefly to meet his eyes, you were met with a cocky smirk that you were all too familiar with. You always hated when he called you that, and you were certain you told him that every time he had. Completely ignoring his question, you pressed record and set your phone on his desk.

“Mr. Price-”

“Babe, c’mon. That sounds so formal. You know me. You can call me Steven.”

You wanted to gag at the way he made it sound like a privilege to use his first name.

“Alright, Steven. What made you want to run for District Attorney?”

“Seemed like a great gig.”

“That…that’s it?”

Steven pursed his lips as he gave a light shrug, crossing his fingers together as he laid his hands on his chest and aimlessly swiveled his chair from left to right.

“Um…okay. What do you feel is most important-”

“You been to that place in uptown? New one that just opened?”

“What?”

“It’s a high end sushi place. You know, your favorite. Anyway, I own it-”

Narrowing your eyes slightly, you pursed your lips and gave a light shake of your head.

“That was your favorite, actually.”

A huge grin broke out across Steven’s face as he sank his top teeth into his bottom lip.

“You remember.”

“I was very good at remembering things, Steven. Can we focus?”

“We should go.”

“Go where?”

“To my restaurant.”

“I hate sushi.”

“No you don’t, we used to go all the time.”

“Because you wanted to go all the time. Can we please get back to the interview?”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you willed your eyes to focus on the next question while tucking your hair behind your ears.

“What has been the greatest reward of running your campaign?”

“Getting to see you again.”

Slamming your notebook shut, you pressed the button on your phone to stop recording and stared over at him sharply.

“Are you going to answer any of these questions seriously? This article is about you and you’re giving me nothing to work with.”

Steven rolled his eyes as he sat up straighter, leaning his elbows on his desk as he looked over at you with another ingenuine smirk.

“Why don’t we discuss them over dinner?”

“Why don’t you answer them now so I can do my job? I have a deadline.”

“Tell you what, I’ll have my assistant email those answers over by the end of the day, and I’ll send a car for you Friday. Where do you live now?”

You couldn’t help but gawk at the audacity flowing from his privileged mouth.

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Of course not. I’ll come pick you up Friday, alone, and we can catch up.”

Steven glared over in Frank’s direction as he emphasized the word ‘alone’, and before you could respond, Frank’s hardened voice boomed throughout the office.

“Yeah, that ain’t happenin’.”

Frank had been so quiet, you almost forgot that he was there. You were suddenly nervous to turn around and see what his face looked like. Steven glowered over at him, clearly feeling emboldened behind the “safety” of his fancy desk.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t talking to you…John, was it? You know this really isn’t necessary, you being here. I’d actually prefer it if you waited outside.”

“And I’d prefer if you answered her fuckin’ questions so we could be on our way.”

Steven chuckled humorlessly as he ran a hand through his neatly cropped blonde hair, looking over at you while gesturing towards Frank.

“Who is this guy? A little old for an intern, isn’t he?”

“He’s my bodyguard, and his name is Frank.”

Steven stared at you silently for a moment before his eyes trailed over to Frank, the confidence in them dissipating slowly. It seemed like he was really looking at Frank for the first time, like he was finally paying attention to him since the first encounter in the lobby, and you noticed the way he visibly tensed when his eyes wandered over his large form.

“What do you need a bodyguard for?”

“Pissed some people off I shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah, well…you were always good at that.”

“The fuck is that s’posed to mean?”

Steven rolled his eyes as an irritated expression took over his features, pointing his finger towards the door.

“Could you just wait outside, man? She’s safe with me, alright.”

“That ain’t for you to decide.”

“Oh? And who needs to sign my permission slip?”

You heard the thunder of Frank’s boots crossing the short distance on the floor, and you instantly reached out to grab onto his wrist once he reached you to halt his angry movements. Steven scrambled all the way back in his chair, pushing away from his desk as he stared up at Frank with wide eyes.

“Frank-”

“Me. And as far as I can tell, your candyass would be fuckin’ worthless if it came down to it. Pretty sure if I came behind that fuckin’ desk right now, the only goddamn thing you would know how to do is call daddy for help, yeah?”

Rising up from your chair, you gripped onto Frank’s wrist a little tighter and moved to stand in front of him to put some distance between him and Steven. You placed your palm flat against his broad chest to capture his attention, momentarily stunned by the anger that was burning in his eyes once they snapped down to you. As your lips parted slightly, you pleaded with your eyes for him to calm down as you whispered quietly.

“Easy, big guy. He’s not worth the trouble. He’s just being a dick, alright?”

Frank clenched his jaw as he looked over your head at Steven, his nostrils flaring slightly as he gave him an unimpressed once over.

“Asshole’s gonna be eatin’ out of a fuckin’ straw the next couple months if he don’t cut the shit.”

Sinking your teeth down into your bottom lip to stifle the giggles that threatened to slip, you gave a slight nod of your head.

“If he acts up again, you have my full permission. But for now, please don’t mangle him. We are in a courthouse.”

Frank glanced down at you, his dark eyes slightly softer as he grunted lowly, giving Steven one more angry glare before he let out a heavy exhale and took four steps back to stand directly behind your chair. It took every ounce of self control not to smirk as you turned around to face Steven, gesturing to him with the paper in your hand containing the interview questions.

“Look, I think we should just call it a day. I’m not even supposed to be writing this article. I’ll tell my boss you couldn’t make it, and the guy that was supposed to be writing this can deal with you.”

Steven suddenly shot up as you reached for your bag and held his hand out.

“Wait, no. Don’t…c’mon, don’t go. I don’t want someone else writing it. I want you to. You actually know me, you can make me look good-”

“That’s not what I’m here to do, Steven. I came here to ask questions and get answers, and write an article based on those answers. How the article reflects you is solely up to you.”

Steven let out a displeased sigh as he settled his hands on his hips, lightly nodding his head in your direction.

“Alright. Alright, no more bullshit.”

Steven refused to look at Frank as he sat back down, his cerulean eyes nervously watching you as he flashed you a timid smile. Letting out a heavy sigh, you slowly sat back down and started recording again, clicking the top of your pen as you looked at him.

“Why do you really want to be District Attorney?”

“It’s the next step in my career.”

“And what makes you think you’ll be good at it?”

“I come from a long line of successful politicians that made it their life’s work to give back to the city and make it a better place.”

“That’s not what I asked. What makes you think you will be good at it?”

“Well clearly you haven’t done your homework, or you’d know I’m a pretty damn good attorney. Never lost a case.”

Steven’s wink simultaneously made you nauseous and also lit a fire within you. Cocking your head to the side lightly, you narrowed your eyes and smacked your lips together.

“I got handed this piece this morning, so no, I didn’t have time to prep. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I don’t understand?”

“Of course you don’t. Okay um…what’s the most important issue to you? What’s the priority for your campaign?”

“Vigilantes.”

Your eyes immediately flew up from the paper at that word, and you found yourself sitting up a little straighter as you stared over at him.

“What about them?”

“Well, they’re a problem. I mean…isn’t that why you need him?”

Steven chuckled lightly as he looked up at Frank, abruptly switching his attention back to you as he clamped his mouth shut.

“No. I need Frank because a bunch of cowards think they’re making a difference by blowing up New York, and I told them how I really felt about them.”

Steven rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, chuckling with a shake of his head.

“That’s because you always have to be difficult. Always have to have the last word. You can’t ever let anything go, Y/N. It’s always a fight with you. You know, people would respect you more and like you more if you weren’t always so combative. You know if you were…softer…not so loud-”

“You keep runnin’ your goddamn mouth like that, I’m really gonna enjoy puttin’ my foot up your ass. Watch how you fuckin’ talk to her.”

Dismissing Frank with a wave of your hand behind you, an incredulous scoff left your mouth as you stared at Steven with narrowed eyes.

“So you think it’s okay for a group of terrorists to threaten me because I hurt their feelings?”

“What? No, of course not. I just…I mean you kinda brought it on yourself. Look, these guys, these…’Defenders of Freedom’, they’re a problem, and one I personally plan to take care of as DA. Especially if you’re involved. But vigilantes are a bigger problem.”

A look of complete incredulity covered your features as you scoffed, digging your nails so hard into your palm, you thought you might bleed.

“How are vigilantes a bigger problem than terrorists-”

“Because they think they’re above the law.”

“And these people don’t? At least vigilantes are actually trying to help people. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen put Wilson Fisk away, and brought down a lot of corrupt cops and politicians, some of which worked for your father, I might add. Jessica Jones brought down not one, but two powered killers. Luke Cage saved Harlem-”

“What about the Punisher?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Frank stiffen, but you were so enraged you couldn’t hardly think straight. You dug further crescent shaped indentations into your palm, sitting up even straighter as you tilted your chin up in a sign of defiance.

“What about him?”

“That psycho killed over 60 people, that we know of. He turned New York into a fucking war zone, Y/N.”

“He wiped out three of the most dangerous gangs in the city. As far as some officers were concerned, he did them a favor.”

“He shot up a hospital-”

“No one got hurt-”

“You aren’t seriously defending that lunatic. A killer is a killer, Y/N. He thought he was doing the city a favor, just like these guys are. Anyone can decide that they’re the good guy that knows what’s best. That’s the problem with vigilantes. There is a reason we have a justice system-”

“You of all people know how easily that justice gets manipulated.”

Steven set his lips in a firm line as he stared at you, eyeing you silently before shaking his head adamantly.

“There is a system, I never said it was perfect, but we have laws in place, and people to uphold them. Daredevil goes around beating the shit out of people and committing felonies every night and calls it justice. Jessica Jones has committed murder more than once, and it was excused as justice. Luke Cage is an ex-convict that notoriously assaults police officers, and calls it justice. You see the pattern here?”

Clenching your fists tightly, you tried to contain how they trembled with rage.

“I think we’re done here. Thank you for your time, Mr. Price.”

Turning off the recording, you vexingly shoved everything into your bag, abruptly standing up to pull it over your shoulder. Steven shot up from his chair to rush over towards you.

“Y/N-”

Frank swiftly placed his body between yours and Steven’s, completely blocking your view of him.

“You take one step closer, I’m gonna make good on my promise.”

An exhausted sigh slipped past your lips as you lightly grasped at the back of Frank’s shirt.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Another sigh fell from your mouth when he didn’t budge, and you tugged at his shirt harder.

“Let’s go, Frank.”

The second the elevator doors shut, Frank turned to face you, arching one of his dark brows in question as he gave you a pointed look. You rolled your eyes and leaned your head against the wall with a quiet groan.

“Don’t start.”

“How the hell do you know that asshole?”

“I said don’t start.”

“That’s too damn bad. I need to know.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my goddamn job, that’s why.”

Rubbing at your temples as you closed your eyes, you practically sprinted out of the elevator once the doors opened.

“Your job is to protect me, Frank. Not to be in my business.”

“Sorry to break it to ya, sweetheart, but your business is my business now. I gotta know who you’re gonna be around so I can-”

“I’m not gonna be around him. I had to interview him to cover someone’s article. That’s it. This is a one time thing-”

“He asked you on a date.”

“So?”

Frank grabbed your wrist to stop you from rushing down the steps, and the force nearly pulled you directly back into his chest. You tilted your head back to look up at him in puzzlement.

“You goin’?”

“What?”

“With him, on a date.”

“Are you seriously asking me that-”

“Yes I’m fuckin’ serious. I gotta know who you’re around. We need to know who to keep tabs on. Anyone could try to-”

“He’s my ex-boyfriend from college, Frank. He’s not a threat. And no, I’m not going on a date with him. Happy?”

Frank’s jaw immediately tensed, and his eyes narrowed as he stared down at you in very clear disappointment. Letting out a dry scoff, he shook his head in disbelief before looking down at you again with an emotion in his eyes that almost looked like disgust.

“The hell did you see in him?”

You had always known that Steven was a shitty boyfriend. That was never something you questioned. But sometimes you forgot just how shitty he was towards you. As you stared up into Frank’s deep brown eyes, Steven’s words echoed around in your head, and it made your heart sink with dejection.

You always have to be difficult.

You brought this on yourself.

People would respect you more if you weren’t always so combative.

People would like you more if you were softer, not so loud.

Steven never supported you. He never took the time to read something you wrote, even when you begged. He spoke over you when you were talking, constantly dismissed your feelings, and made it his personal mission to make you feel small. He never wanted you to shine brighter than him. He never wanted you to disagree with him. He tried to fit you into a locket of his liking and wear you around his neck like a prize. He never loved you. He loved the idea of you he had crafted in his head. And when you shattered that illusion, he despised you and tore you down with his words.

Frank would never treat you that way.

Frank never once made a negative comment about why he ended up being your protection. Hell, even Billy hadn’t. Ellison had encouraged you to write the article. He gave the approval.

Frank read your work. Frank listened to your interview. Frank came to your defense every single time.

He treated you better than anyone ever had. Even when you were in the wrong, and you antagonized him, he was still so gentle with you in his own way. He remembered little things about you. He apologized when he raised his voice or lost his temper. He offered comfort when you needed it. He listened to you.

And now as he stood in front of you, you couldn’t answer him.

“I…I don’t know.”

Frank’s face all of a sudden softened at the somber tone of your voice and the downcast look in your eyes. For a moment, the two of you stood there on the steps, silently staring into each other’s eyes.

Clearing his throat, Frank looked away and nodded with his head in an aimless direction.

“We uh…should get goin’.”

Glancing down at your feet, you closed your eyes for a moment as you tried to compose yourself, giving a slight nod of your head as you turned around to descend the steps.

“Yeah, we should.”

tags: @hopeful-evermore @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @neverlandcity @charmedkim

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher series

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graceofagodswrath · 1 year ago

Note

Ok ok ok your "Humans of Transformers franchise are space orcs" rant is out of this world.

I detest with passion when humans are reduced to pets and plot devices when instead the story could be about two alien species finding one another equally amazing/terrifying for their own respective reasons.

Here is my question: do humans and Cybertronians see how eerily similar they are? They have love of music, familial relationships, similar urban infrastructure, societal structure, financial systems, competitive entertainment, organized societies and war, colonialism, recreational intercourse, marriage...

Not to mention, why was it never addressed how similar both species look: bipedal, waists, noses, cheekbones, 5 fingers, chins, facial expressions and sense of aesthetics and beauty? Sure, humans have hair but in rather strategic places.

Veins and wires, blood and energon, metal and flesh, nanobytes and blood cells, Sparks and brain impulses, sexual organs...

Imagine Autobots arrive on Earth for the first time expecting some primitive cave-dwellers, only to encounter a less advanced mini-version of Cybertronian cities (New York, Singapore, London, Rome, Tokyo, Rio, Dubai...) and societies running on scientific, artistic and philosophical development which has no right existing on the ruthless, all-organic planet such as Earth is. Societes run by creatures who 4.000.000 (the duration of their war) years ago were hanging from the trees btw.

Autobots would be terrified.

Lemme make sure this response saves this time, cause it took me a minute to answer cause my first deleted and I had so much written I got unbelievably angry and refused to even look at the tumblr app.

But here we are.

So, this is EXACTLY what I have been thinking about for who k owe how long. It’s also the intro to this wack as fuck universe idea I’ve had in my head a while, and have kinda hinted at in my other works, but I’ve never gone into detail about.

And I still won’t.

Anyways, yes. It’s crazy that we backlit humans so much when any other sentient species is about. Transformers, TMNT, etc (I’m on a one track mind, feel free to jot down any other fandoms I can’t think of). The main theme of these stories? HUMANS SUCK. And that is severely unfair. People want to cry about how much our generation doesn’t give a shit anymore. Have you SEEN the media we feed kids???

That’s why I live Humans are Space Orcs so much. It really puts into perspective how unique and batshit our species is.

So, onto the Transformers vs humans concepts. The ONLY reason (forgoing technoism and general hate towards organics) cybertronians don’t see humanity as an imminent threat, or one in general, is because of size. WE BE SMALL AF. Can’t blame them, I get it. We do the same. Insects? Fuck them mfs.

But have you seen a botfly or tick burrow into your skin? The infection that comes form that? Have you seen ants jump a small animal as a colony and absolutely shred it? Or a spider only biting you, and the horror the venom causes (recluses and huntsman’s specifically). We have a good fucking reason for disliking these mfs.

But transformers? These are organic experiences. Worst they go through are rust infections, spark death, the works. They are not at risk the same way we are. That is why they view organics as small and inconsequential. They have no idea how hard we fight to simply stay alive.

And now the similarities. It’s understandable that they wouldn’t immediately recognize the physical, cultural, and psychological similarities between our species. Transformers are an incredibly diverse race, like any other. But specifically in physical form. Your average cybertronian holds a similar appearance to your average human. We tend to have the same features, just with different names. Eyes, noses, faceplates, ears, two arms, two legs. Sure that’s average for them too. But they are unique because of the fact that they have two forms. Vehicle mode. Their mode decides what they’re second mode looks like, which can create extreme diversity is appearance. Small, large, many limbed or not.

So the immediate similarities probably wouldn’t jump out to them in an odd way. There’s also the idea that because they’re so spread out in the universe, they’ve seen other organic races that are also similar. Pairs of every body part could be the common denominator among species.

That goes culturally too. War, love, music, government, politics, it’s all a natural form of sentient evolution. Another common denominator. It’s how it’s done that makes it unique. And the similarities between human and cybertronian culture is uncomfortably familiar.

I think that’s why cybertronians are seen being closest with humans rather than other species in the shows and comics (obviously because the audience is human and they need relation to characters but shhhh forget that for a sec). This is where the theories start.

Let’s say cybertronians begin to recognize the weird similarities between our species. The really, really weird stuff. The itty bitty details. Like:

- how we also mainstream kissing on the lips as the top tier romantic gesture.

- use verbal tone and cues for our language.

- have intensely complicated interpersonal relationships in the exact same manner.

- suffer from extreme mental health issues like depression, anxiety, PTSD (I totally headcannon that forms of adhd, autism, and ocd exist in cybertronian society, have y’all not seen my boy rodimus prime??)

- will also destroy each other in the name of our gods, until we have a common enemy.

That’s just the basics I could come up with. The only time I actually saw a moment where a transformer genuinely take a moment to realize that humans can be a threat, was in transformers prime. Episode 6 of beast wars (I think, correct me if wrong), where Miko beats the ever loving fuck out of an insecticon (I think) and upon Megatron hearing this, just goes blank Kubrick stare for a hot second. Man had an ugly realization that did not fit in with anything he had experienced his whole life.

AND THEY NEVER FUCKING ADDRESSED IT EVER AGAIN. Sick of this shit. Could’ve had the most badass character development, where the humans actually proved useful and did something (it would have fit Milo’s character so perfectly too) and scared the utter shit out of the transformers. BUT NO. They continue to be annoying as fuck.

One thing I loved about TF Prime was that it canonically turned Unicron into Earth. And humans came from the earth. Which relates humans beings and cybertronians so hard. Cousins Fr. We are the cybertronian equivalent of organics, and transformers the inorganic equivalent of humans. The individuality, the chaos, the culture, it clicks. There is so much material to really go into it.

But they never do. Don’t get me wrong, I love Transformers lord and just discovering more without humans being involved. We’re just annoying af at this point. But there is so much u tapped potential in transformers actually taking the chance to LEARN about us. But we’re just friends (pets) to these mfs.

That’s why I love TF Earthspark so far. Transformers ingrained into human culture because they’re not from Cybertron, and cybertronians having to adapt to human culture because they have no where else to go. Granted, it’s a kids show. There’s only so much they can do. But I’m excited for where it’ll lead. It really shows how much of threat and ally humans are, and how we are just as diverse as cybertronians.

I need to write another fic about cybertronians meeting humans their size from our world tho. Need to continue my old piece. Would give me so much life. Y’all help motivate me, college draining my ass.

#shower thoughts #humans are crazy #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are deathworlders #humans are weird #Transformers #transformers prime #transformers earthspark #rant

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madisonshoneybun · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you still are continuing to take fanfic request if you could possibly do one where newt and the reader are childhood friends and newt really likes the reader and is going to their house to confess his feeling to them but he is sad because they moved to New York to find a Job and after a few years newt sees the reader sitting on a bench at a park in New York but doesn’t know if that’s them because they are sitting with their back away from him so he isn’t sure if that’s really them, and they finally reunited and he confesses his feeling when the reading is working a late night shift at the department store in the first film and is about to go home oh btw if you could possibly add a bit of jealous Tina let’s say newt has kept the same necklace which he wanted to give to the reader when he wanted to confess his feeling to them when he was younger and then Tina goes into Newt’s case and finds the necklace and assumes Newt wants to give it to her so she puts it on anyway and Newt says it is not for her and she has to give the necklace back to him but at the end when she sees how happy Newt and the reader are together she is happy and accepts the fact that newt likes someone else and finds someone else to love. Omg if you do this I will be so so so happy I have just had this idea for a really long time now but honestly probably couldn’t actually write it thank you so much!

Found

Warning - none

Pairing - Newt Scamander x Reader

Summary - Newt left you and you had no idea why. He was someone you could never stop thinking about but as luck would have it, he found you. Will he leave you again? Will he be honest about how he truly feels? Or will he hurt you all over again?

A/N - Jezz it's been a long time. I remember when I was in high school, and my only hobby was writing fanfiction. I never told a soul. But here I am, now 22 and still wanting to come back and write from time to time. Though I didn't start this Tumblr account when I was in high school. I hope you like what I've written and keep sending requests and I just might write some. Might even right a few then hop off the face of the planet again. I don't know, but enjoy :)

Words - 3555

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Your most fond memories were running round the halls of Hogwarts with Newt not far behind. Sometimes you were skipping class to be with his creatures, sometimes one would escape, and you were both trying to catch it and other times, your favorite times, it was just so you could both be alone. There was a spot, under the east stairwell, where you'd hide. Newt was never one for affection but for some reason, here, with you, he'd hold your hand. Tracing his fingers over the lines on your palm almost like he was trying to read your future. You always hoped he'd be reading them to see if your futures aligned. Maybe if the maps on your palm were identical to his, it meant you were meant to be together. Like it was destiny. He'd never let you read his though, only allowing you to wrap your fingers together, intertwining them like perfect puzzle pieces. You'd lean you head on his shoulder, and he'd mumble creature facts to you, describe their beauty with hints of passion. Unicorns and fairies were in muggle stories, always the good guys and the most beautiful creatures to them. But Newt could tell you anything about any creature in the world, and you'd fall for them without caring what they looked like. Newt loved magical beasts and you loved them too.

You sat on a bench, the cold New York air biting at your skin. You didn't mind though. It reminded you of home. You'd picked up knitting a few years after graduating from Hogwarts. Both your muggle and wizard friends teased you, saying it was so boring and it was something only old people did. You liked it though, and it was always a high when you finished a piece, whether it be gloves, a hat or a scarf, it always made you so happy. Right now you were working on a scarf. You'd come up with idea of making your own version of the house scarfs at Hogwarts. You had started with your house, seeing as it was obviously superior, and worked your way through the others. Right now, you were working on the finally one. Hufflepuff. It was bittersweet. It was almost like you were pushing it off as much as you could. Every time you saw that shade of yellow, you'd be brought back to Hogwarts. To that boy with the most beautiful green eyes. To his crocked smile and its cute fluffy hair.

You smiled gently at the half-made scarf. God did you miss him. You wondered what he was doing, if he was okay, and if he still loved beast. You laughed quietly and shook your head. Of course, he does, dead or alive, he would never not love them. Even if one were to kill him, he wouldn't blame them. You heard someone chuckled behind you. It made you jump to your feet, dropping everything you were doing on the ground. Your hand flew to your back pocket, where you keep your wand, as you spun around.

Your hands fell to my sides upon seeing him. Both beautiful eyes and that fluffy hair. "Newt?"

He looked just as surprised to see you as you were of seeing him. Almost like he wasn't expecting it at all. What did he expect laughing at a random woman in the cold? A heavy sigh left your lips. "Were you just laughing at me Mr. Scamander?" You thought, seeing as you were both adults, it might be better to address him properly. You didn't have any idea on how he felt about you, if he had moved on from your friendship from school. It only felt polite to call him by his last name. He stilled and opened his mouth to speak. You could almost visually see the sweat form on his face and the color leave his eyes. "Uh no- I wasn't" He stuttered, waving his hands in the air.

You put your hands on your hips and titled your head to the side. "I jumped so hard cause I heard you laugh. Don't try to fool me." The flustered look on his face was so cute, you almost felt bad for teasing him. You weren't the same girl you were back then, growing more confident as the days went by. You wouldn't be so easily flustered by him like when you were little, but you doubt he'd even remember though moments. Or tell you about them at that. He looked just as flustered, maybe even more as he listened to you speak. It started to make you laugh and you waved a hand at him. "It's alright Scamander, I'm just teasing you. Can't handle a bit of teasing from an old friend?" His shoulders dropped, relaxing finally. For a moment, he still said nothing. Looking you up and down for a moment before finally opening his mouth to speak properly to you. "I heard you laugh and I couldn't help it. Yours is contagious." A blush crept up your neck.

He looked the same but also so different. He was taller than you now, more built, leaner. His jaw sharp, a bit longer hair, and this aura about him. He still felt a bit shy but exuded this confidence that you've never seen in him before. What had changed? How did he still feel like that kid from so long ago but I feel so mature? How stupid could I be? He's a grown man. You looked down at your items on the floor and crouched to get them. He crouched too but soon stood back up. "What are you doing here?" You sat back down, and he took a seat next to you. "I'm passing through. On my way to Arizona to release a Thunderbird I rescued from Egypt... though..." He looked down at his hands like he was ashamed. "It appears some other creatures escaped my case, so I have to find them before anything bad happens to them."

You could feel his sadness wrap around you. It felt cold and seeing him after not seeing him so long didn't erase your memories of him. His love for all magical creatures. You took his hand, like he had done to you all those times under that stairwell, and squeezed tightly. "Let me help you." His eyes moved to yours and for a moment they looked like there were stars in them. Like hearing you say that made him the happiest in the world. Like you weren't afraid or anger at him for leaving all those years ago but it soon faded. Knowing what little he knew about what was going on in this city, he never wanted to put you in danger so, like all those years ago. He pushed you away. He pulled his hand away and rose to his feet. He refused to look at you as he picked up his case. "I've got it. I know these creatures like the back of hand. Don't worry yourself with it." and without giving you even a second to respond, he began to walk away.

Seeing his back to you, slowly getting farther and farther away, you had no idea what to do. When he left you tried to stop him, but he wouldn't open up to you about why. You could never understand it all. But you did understand was how much he hurt you. How much it hurt to have him lie to your face. And how much it hurt begging him to be honest with you, begging you to stay, and having him still leave you behind. You weren't going to do again. Not this time. You were going to let him go.

____________________

Newt had been keeping himself occupied in his case all night. The others had no idea what to do. Something must've happened but none of them were close enough to him to ask. Jacob was the first to try, but all he got was one-word responses. Queenie tried to but Newt didn't even bare her a glance. Tina was the only one absent from this whole ordeal. She was inside the shed, while Newt was taking care of his creatures and Jacob followed him like a lost puppy. She was looking through his things, trying to find anything about him. They had gotten close, and had bonded through this while ordeal, even though it wasn't entirely over yet. She could feel her feelings growing for him the more they interacted with him. When Newt saved her, looked her in the eyes and promised her that'd he'd catch her, she felt something. She had felt so safe and cared for. She had a slight worry that he might leave her. Save himself and then go save his case. But he stayed and the look in his eyes felt like a silent promise that he wasn't going to leave her.

She opened up drawer after drawer. Not really rummaging through, just moving a few things around. She eventually came across and small velvet box. It was a beautiful royal blue. It was so soft and light. When she opened it, a soft glow illuminated her face. She took it out of the box, setting it aside and hold a beautiful silver necklace. It was short, like it would rest perfectly in-between a person's collarbones. These last few days, maybe he felt the same way? It felt too soon for something like this but everyone knew how awkward, yet charming Newt was. He was never very good with words. There was this tiny whisper in the back of her mind that said to ask him who this was for. Confirm with him first before she thought it belonged to her but the love she felt for him drowned out that voice. Slowly, as to not make a sound, she put it around her neck. Clasping it in place. She felt silly for being so quiet. No human on this ear could hear the sound if a necklace clamping in place but her nerves got the better of her. She closed the box, setting it back inside the drawer, and left the shed.

_____________________

You couldn't believe your boss called you in so late. You weren't a security guard; this wasn't in your job description. You were reading about everything going on, and you can't lie and say it didn't make you nervous. There was no denying it wasn't something more than normal muggle things. It had to be something you'd read about in school. Or some witch or wizard who was after something. You knew all this but could do nothing. You weren't with the Macusa, like you'd ever want to do anything like that, you were just a normal witch. The best you were good at was making positions and remembering wizard history. And of course, a butt load of creature facts. You also felt confident that the Macusa were handling it.

Never mind that. You had to be "keeping an eye out" as your boss had told you to do. This store had never been broken into at night, you never understood why. Shoplifters though? That has happened a few times. Since you didn't think anyone would dare try to break in, you brought you scarf to finish. It was almost done. Just a few more rows to go. Glancing down at the fabric in your hands, you remembered the park. How you were literally just looking at this stupid thing and thinking about him. Then he popped into thin air. Almost like you were granted a wish from the gods but now? Just looking at it stung. What did you do to deserve this treatment from him? Did he figure out your feelings and just had no clue on how to turn you down? If he didn't like you back you would've respected that decision, but he didn't even respect you enough to tell you why he was leaving. Before you could get too into your head you heard something fall to the ground. Luck truly wasn't on your side huh? First you wished for him and now you somehow jinxed this whole break in thing.

You stood, making slow, gentle movements around the front desk. Making your way over to what had dropped, you felt like there were eyes on you. And in an instant, you were grabbed from behind, a hand over your mouth. You went to scream but once your back met the person's chest you stared ahead. You saw Newt, holding a finger to his lips. Just looking at him made you anger. How could he treat you the way he did and then randomly show up here and have whoever was holding you touch you like this? What would he even need here? Then it hit you. His creatures.

You nodded and the person behind you let you go. You turned to face them and saw a man, he quickly whispered an apology to you, and two women. Then women were like polar opposites of each other, visually speaking. Nothing to do with their beauty, no, they were both probably the prettiest women you had ever met. They just looked different. Once blonde wearing pinks and a cute face of makeup, the other a brunette wearing darker clothes. After scanning the group your eyes fall back to Newt. "What's here?" he pointed past me, a floating purse making its way through the store. "Dougal, my Demiguise." You nodded slowly. You've heard a lot about those creatures. Newt always thought they were the most difficult to catch, or save even.

"Demiguise are fundamentally peaceful, but-" "they can give a nasty nip though." You shrugged. The room fell silent. You looked up at the other, who you still hadn't gotten the name of. They looked at you like you were crazy but Newt had this slight smirk on his face. "I learned from the master himself." You whispered and gently nudged Newts arm. After the interruption Newt was giving out orders. "You two, head that way. And try very hard not to be predictable. Y/n?" You hummed softly. "Stay with them?" You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was worried for them. These people obviously knew little to nothing. But you knew everything, you knew what to do and what not to do. You keep these people safe. And Newt trusted you so deeply with that task. You smiled and nodded, leading the way.

We were in some kind of attic and Newt was describing the beast to everyone in the room. Once you realized it was babysitting and that Newt "must have miscounted" you knew we were in for it. A huge and beautiful Occamy came forward. Staring straight into Newt's eyes. You felt a smile creep onto your face, you'd never seen one before but like you'd always thought, no matter the creature, it was a wonderful thing to see. Seeing how gently Newt was, you thought for sure he had it, that was until the blonde walked forward, almost like she was in awe, and accidently kicked a Christmas ordainment. It rang and the poor thing got spooked. Its body got moved around the room, almost snake like. Your first immediate thought was to get Dougal, something so big could easily kill him while it was startled like this. But once you made your way towards him, he made his way towards the other man and blondie. Now in the center of the room, Newt was gone, riding on top of it. Before you could even think to start looking around for something small or an insect, one of its wings came flying towards you. Hitting you square in the chest and making you slam into the floor. You head hurt the most, and you blacked out while gasping for air.

_____________________

We had just gotten the Occamy in the tea pot and for a spilt second everything left so calm. It felt like the weight he had been keeping on his shoulders had vanished, but it all faded when he saw you, the literal light of his light, laid limp on the floor. Tina had both hands on the tea pot and the lip so Newt ran to your side. "Y/n? Hey, wake up!" He shook you gently and then realized that was probably the worst thing he could be doing to you right now. His only other thought in mind was to take you into his arms and bring you into his case. He had put a cot in the shed, right by the entrance. Sometimes he just preferred to be asleep near his creatures. The sounds they made throughout the night were like little lullabies. He brought you down, the other following close behind, and laid you gently on it. Taking off his coat and laying that on top of you too. It was particularly cold but he still worried.

"Can you put my Occamy back and Dougal on his tree?" He didn't spare anyone a glance. But Jacob nodded, leading Queenie out of the room. But Tina stayed. She took a seat next to you, looking you over. It seemed she didn't snoop enough, or she was just blind as a bat because once she looked up towards Newt, she was a photo. A moving picture, of you, smiling so bright. Her hand slowly went to the necklace. She felt this ping in her chest. Over these past few days she thought her and Newt were becoming closer. Like they could be something more. Maybe not this soon, but over time, maybe something. It genuinely hurt more than she thought it would. While Newt was still distracted, making something to help you, she took off the necklace and gently placed it around your neck. Seeing it on you, it felt like it just belonged there.

She stood to her feet and gave Newt a gently pat on the back and left the room. Leaving the two of you alone.

______________________________

You slowly opened your eyes, your head heavy and throbbing. Your back also just completely bruised. You sat up slowly, touching your hand to your head. It was wrapped in gauze and a foreign cream over your collarbones, along with a necklace. You knew you weren't wearing it before but besides that, you were in so much pain. You glanced around the room and saw Newt, setting on the floor beside you, holding your free hand. You squeezed it and he opened his eyes, standing so quickly to his feet that he fell back a bit, leaning fully on the work bench behind him. "Are you alright?" you asked him with a chuckled. "Are you alright?" he made his way back to your side. His hand finding its way to the back of your head. He leaned down a bit, giving you a once over. You nodded. "I'm fine, though I will say that hurt more than when we tried to ride that Hippogriff we found in the forest." He moved away and went back to his work bench, grabbing something that must've been sitting there, waiting for you. He handed it to you and drank it without a second thought. Your body felt cool all of a sudden and like the pain was fading away.

He sat beside you, fiddling with his fingers. You grabbed his hands, like you'd done all those years ago but for the first time, he flipped his hand, allowing you to see the maps on his palm. He glanced at him, but his eyes were laser focused on your fingers as you ran them over the lines. Your eyes went back to his hands, much larger than yours. As you traced the lines they felt familiar. It felt like the same pattern he would trace onto you. Your heart was beating so fast. All this time you wondered why he was so fascinated by it, but he knew all along that you futures were aligned. You continued to stare and trace with a smile permanently etched on your face. "I love you."

Your eyes shot up. "I love you, y/n. I've loved you for so long and I've been terrified to tell you but..." He clenched his jaw. "When I saw you there, I was more terrified than ever. The thought of you not loving me back couldn't compare to the thought of you dying. So I knew I had to tell you. I'm sorry I never told you, and I'm sorry I left." Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. His beautiful green meeting your calm (y/e/c). His hand went to your cheek, thumbing rubbing your tears away. You hand went over his, and gently rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. A chuckle left your lips as the tears fell completely. "I love you too. I always have."

He smirked and you could see his shoulders relax. He was looking at you so intently and then down at your lips. Your eyes met again and he leaned forward, ever so slightly, then stopped. It was a silent way to ask permission. Then you leaned forward to, inviting him in. He took the invitation and slowly kissed you. It was soft, gentle and the best thing you've ever felt in your life. The happiness you both felt filled the room. This might be your new, fondest, moment.

Masterlist

#fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft #newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x you #queenie goldstein #tina goldstein #jacob kowalski

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ominousvibez · 29 days ago

Text

Okay I'm still thinking about the Amity Park in Ohio thing so here's my proposal for this idea:

Reasons That Amity Park Should Be in Ohio (By Someone Who's Lived In Ohio For 2+ Years)

#1 It's Definitely A Great Lake State

Amity Park has never been stated to be officially in one specific state, just vaguely central United States, possibly somewhere around the Great Lakes area. That specific area is often referenced by other characters in the show. Urban Jungle shows Undergrowth's roots stretching out from this general area, and the Lake Eerie mentioned in the show might just literally be Lake Erie.

Of course it's kinda cartoony and I honestly have no idea if those mountains in the bottom right corner are meant to be the Appalachia area or not but it vaugely looks like the Great Lakes area

Because of this screenshot, I think most of the fandom headcanons Amity Park to be somewhere in Illinois, possibly close to Chicago, but we can basically point at any Great Lakes state and say "yeah that fits".

For my non-American friends, it's this general area of America (specifically Minnesota, Wisconsin, Illinois, Michigan, Indiana, and Ohio)

But I'd also like to say that cartoons do have a tendency to fudge some details about geography (or completely change the states a la Steven Universe) so the map might not be 100% accurate. But with the map, it could technically be any Great Lakes State, so why not OHIO?

Which btw I'm going to be counting as a Midwest state for this analysis. Some people can argue it isn't, but from my experience living here in Ohio there are a lot of Midwestern tendencies. It's more like Ohio is the border state between the Eastern states and the Midwest, so it gets a mix of both.

B*tch H*rtman (as much as we don't like to talk about him) was also born in Michigan, which is a state in the Midwest, so some of Amity Park could be based (consciously or not) on the towns he grew up in there. But because of him I'm ruling out Michigan the state as a whole and Wisconsin for states Amity Park could be in.

#2 It Takes Four Days To Get To Wisconsin, Apparently?

In Season 1, Episode 7, when they travel to Vlad's mansion in Wisconsin, Jazz says it will take "four days" to get from Amity Park to Vlad's Mansion (Somewhere in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin, basically). The geography is a little off for every midwestern/Great Lakes state except maybe New York if you're gonna count that but Amity Park does not feel like it'd be in New York state.

Ohio is the furthest Midwest Great Lakes state from Wisconsin. Case closed there. Of course, it doesn't take four days to get from Ohio to Wisconsin. It can roughly vary from 10 to 15 hours, depending on route options (such as avoiding highways and stuff), but still.

It's a road trip, so it makes more sense that they'd take longer to get there-- plus realistically people don't tend to drive 10 hours on a road trip, they probably stopped through the trip and spent the night in their RV.

#3 They Got Beaches?

Amity Park does exist near a body of water. It isn't clear if it's a lake, river, or ocean in the show. It could be a lake. There's also the area in Frightmare, where Nocturne literally takes up space in some sort of port building/factory that gives the audience the assumption that it's on a pier/port. So they're really next to a body of water.

There is also the summer camp that Danny and his friends attend in Claw of the Wild which is said to be on Lake "Eerie". Which could easily just be Lake Erie, the lake that Ohio is on.

Also Camp Skull and Crossbones?? What an iconic camp name. You could say the name is pretty,,,,,, camp (ba dum tss).

#4 Ohio's Just Like... Very Haunted

Ohio has kinda become a meme recently. Not just one specific part of Ohio, but the entire state. The memes are mostly good fun-- like how the state is mostly just corn -- but I think some of the ~vibes~ of Ohio just fit right.

Like, there's no definite way to say which U.S. State is the most haunted (I think either the New England area or maybe Louisiana could take the #1 spot) but Ohio is definitely something else. Of course, we have the baby bridges and the haunted penitentiaries like Ohio State Penitentiary, but there are some interesting places that could be played with, too.

For one, there's an entire abandoned town called Helltown, Ohio, where rumors are cultists perform Satantic rituals, mutant creatures roaming the city created by an oil spill, and even a giant snake? There's also a place literally called the Gateway to Hell, too, which is right behind a Tim Horton's (oddly fitting).

Bobby Mackey's is also in Ohio! If you've ever seen Buzzfeed Unsolved, you know what I'm talking about.

There are also less hell-related spooky things in Ohio. Like, Lake Erie has its own Monster! We call her Bessie. Danny could definitely befriend Bessie!!!

#5 It'd Be Funny

It'd be funny for Amity Park to be in Ohio. The Most Haunted Place in America to be in Ohio is just kinda funny. With how "cursed" of a reputation Ohio seems to have in a larger cultural context, doesn't it kinda just fit?

TLDR:

Ohio is a very cursed state, has a lot of supernatural lore to it, and I think Amity Park would fit in both thematically and almost geographically. Of course, other Midwestern States like Illinois do fit the bill, too, in this argument. But I am a firm "Amity Park is in Ohio" supporter.

#danny phantom #dp #ominous writing #kinda?? i guess????#analysis #ominous posts #all my DP fics are now set in ohio #i'd honestly put amity park to be central ohio just based off vibes but for some reason they're like next to a huge lake/body of water??#so i guess somewhere on the lake. maybe between cleveland and toledo #again i've only been here for two years. so keep that in mind #Amity Park could also be by a river but being by a lake makes more sense to me. idk #also let me know if i should add a read more to this it feels kinda long

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justanunrealpotato · 4 months ago

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Time to time I think of an fic I won't write.

It's a Peter Parker in Gotham fic but at the same time Damian gets send to Avenger's New York

The Bat's think that the new Spider-Man is related to Robin's disappearance, Peter try to avoid them as Spider-Man while he start to volunteer in the library because he's sneaking inside at night to get somewhere safe to sleep.

Meanwhile Damian keep a low profile, something about it makes him think that Lex Luthor is the one who made him change universes and thinks that Tony Start is the Luthor of that universe so he create a plan to take him down and force him to get him back.

The Waynes adopt Peter while they search for Dami and Spider-Man. Peter gets hurt one night and the bats saves him discovering he was Spider-Man all along. Bruce is really angry thinking that he used them and he's some kind of roge because he's the only lead they have to where Damian is.

Damian's plan gets mostly through but at the end he discovers that Tony has nothing to do with the transportation but he is searching for Peter and he has a lead on some Multiverse energy. After that Damian is adopted but Stark and the Avengers.

I don't know how to get them to change universes or why it happens in the first place.

Btw in this universe Peter and Damian would be roughly the same age.

Idk if someone wants the idea it's free.

#Fic idea #Fanfic idea #Peter Parker in Gotham #Damian Wayne in Avenger's New York #DC #Marvel #Batman #Spider-man #Damian Wayne #Damian #Robin #Fic ideas #Fanfic ideas #Fic #Fanfic #dc comics

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certainlynotasimp · 1 year ago

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Hii, i think a good idea for a one shot could be that there's a canon event where the spiderperson!reader have to do the iconic Spiderman kiss in their universe, like Spiderman 3 (toby's one) with Gwen stacy or whoever you want, but they are in a relationship with Miguel LMAOOO btw im sorry if there's something wrong with the grammar, english is not my first language <3

Rewrite the Stars

((Miguel O’Hara x Female! Reader))

A/N: A non Sunny x Miggy post? How odd for me lol. I’m so sorry this is super late and to everyone whose requested, I’m working slowly but surely on y’all’s stuff. If you wanna read some stuff in the meantime, here’s the Masterlist and feel free to join my discord.

A/N: I tried doing the you/yours pronoun thing because this isn’t a Sunny fanfic but I really don’t like it lol.

Warnings: Jealous Miguel?, Unrequited/Forbidden? Love, Female Reader/Female Pronouns, Barely use of Y/N, and no Spanish this time ((I’m trying to find a new translator and hopefully an editor))

The universe.

One of life’s greatest mysteries. A mass of stars and galaxies that housed so many lives within its many pockets. The lives of so many people whose lives were already written within its cloudy arms and their ends cemented in its pools of nothingness.

A beautiful cycle of cruelty and destiny.

A cycle that was the reason for your utter misery as you sat at a bar listening to your dimension’s Ben Riley blabber on about some football game you cared nothing about.

His oblivious brown eyes sparkled at the fascination with the game as his dimpled smile accentuates his sharp jawline. The warm lights from above caused a healthy glow to bounce off of his shaggy blonde hair, almost making him look like an angel. You can see why Spiderverse assigned him as your love interest.

In your earth’s canon, you were a typical woman who had gotten bit by a radioactive spider during a high school field trip and you spent your entire high school experience thrashing goons instead of chasing boys. Even helped take down some aliens with the Fantastic Four and the Avengers at times before college finals. Spiderwoman was New York’s beloved hero and the cockiness of being its one and only SpiderWoman quickly got into her head.

That was until six months ago.

Six months ago, you were fighting the Vulture over the Empire State Building when another, more mutated version of the same villain appeared. They both decided in your state of delirium over the doubles that you would be a good plaything.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, I didn’t ask for a combo with my chicken!” A feminine spider’s voice screeches as she avoids the hooked talons of the erratic variant.

The two villains took turns flying menacingly around the scope of buildings to throw the hero off of their location while the other swooped in and tries to rip her throat out.

As she attempts to escape the feathered monster, its companion would come and slice away the web of salvation, continuing the vicious cycle.

Blood blinded her vision as the loud ringing at the base of her skull grew louder. The causes of that annoying alarm grasp their razor claws into her shoulders before sweeping her exhausted body into the air with a victorious snarl.

‘I guess this is the end…’

As the heavens draw closer to her doom, her life hanging up by the slicing of her muscles and bones, a glimmer of fate happens. The warmth of a flash barely registers as the first ache disappears with a startled squeak and a burly force. The sudden change in feeling takes her breath away as she suddenly begins to plummet below.

Her eyes quickly adjusting to the suffocating drop, she can see that one of the Vultures was now fighting an even more prominent blue figure, his howls of pain and unintelligible cursing heard from the stumbling brawl.

As the flash from her familiar foe reaches around the building, she shoots her web at him and used him as a glider.

“Time to ground you, birdie!” She yells as she throws the villain through a window. Catching her grip on the building, she looks at her new foe in the sky and the wind is knocked out of her from the sight.

The man who saved her was in a futuristic spider suit with his mask now off. His dark hair flutters in the wind as the setting sun makes his tanned skin glow. His red eyes glare at the wiggling mutant as his full lips pull back into a snarl. His jaws open revealing a set of large fans before he plunged them into the mutant.

Who the hell is that?

~~~~~~~~~

“(Y/N)?…” Ben frowns as he realizes his date was lost in her thoughts.

You snapped out of your head and fake an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was remembering something….”

That wasn’t a complete lie. You remembered the day you met Miguel O’Hara. The Spiderman of the year 2099 and the leader of the inter-dimensional Spider Society. The anomaly that had come into your world had brought the two together and you were recruited due to your stubbornness, much to Miguel’s annoyance.

~~~~~~~~~

“No.” His annoyance dripped from these words as he glares down at you. You were caught in wonder at the idea of there being other Spidermen and that they worked together to stop the collapse of the entire universe. The thought seemed too good to be true that you just had to ask if you could join until those red eyes shot your dream through the heart.

“What do you mean ‘No’?” You ask in disbelief. Your own eyes glared deep into his soul as your hands balled into fists. “I’m a Spiderman just like you! How could you-!”

“You are not like me.” He coldly snaps at you, your ranting briefly interrupted as the man towers over you. His clawed hand grasps your face as his glare sets a spark of fury down in your chest.

“You will never be like me and you will never-!” “Is that our new recruit?” A smooth British accent appears behind Miguel as a spiked-headed Spiderman peeks around his bulking figure.

“No, she’s-” The tall punk pulls you away from Miguel with a mischievous laugh as he introduces himself. “Ello, love, my name is Hobie. Hobie Brown.” He leans down with a sly smirk as his mischievous attitude infests your being like a plague. “Just play along, mate. Let’s riffle this wanker’s undies.” He whispers as you giggle.

“Nice to meet you, Hobie.” I allow a sly smirk to slide onto my face as I look back at the now very annoyed Miguel. “My name is (Y/N) and I’m happy to join.”

~~~~~~~~

The distant sound of screams filters through the bar as the distinct sound of a car being tossed into another building.

Looking at my gizmo disguised as a watch, you realized that the canon event was starting.

~~~~~~~~

“You did well today,” Miguel admits under his breath. Looking at him in shock, you realize that he wasn’t scowling like he normally was. He had a softer expression, his eyes shining with approval as his lips quirked into a mimic of a smile.

The mission had almost gone rouge with the escape of a prowler and him hiding low in a crowded dimension. Despite the obvious danger, Miguel opted to go alone like usual, but his lack of spider sense caused him to get caught up in a trap. Talons and Fangs don’t really help if you can’t exactly move around to use them, so he ended up taking serious blows.

Luckily, you managed to get there and tumble with the villain long enough for the others to rescue Miguel, and the team managed to recapture the prowler. Of course all of them looked pretty bad injuries wise, but the look Miguel had as you sat there bandaging up his wounds made it worth it for some odd reason.

“Thanks Boss.”

~~~~~~~~

June 27th : SpiderWoman of Earth 648 will rescue love interest, Ben Riley, from an attack against The Rhino….

The roaring of the mechanical beast fills the panicked screams of the patrons as the sinking feeling falls in your chest. Ben is quick to play the hero like any guy would as he grabs your arm and drags you out towards the emergency exit. Just like the timeline said it would.

You use the chaos to your advantage as you pretend to trip and get lost in the crowd of people struggling to escape from the emergency exit.

~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean by that?!” I snapped at an irritated Miguel.

Lyla was surprisingly quiet as she watched the duo argue. Miguel whips around at you as his ruby eyes scorched into yours. His talons point at you accusingly as he reiterates your next canon event.

“On June 27th, you are going to be out on a date with Ben Riley. The Rhino is gonna attack that street and you’re gonna save everyone, and afterwards you’re gonna have to kiss him.” His frustration evident as his permanent frown creases.

You stare into his eyes in defiance as you coldly utter, “No. I’m not gonna kiss Ben Riley.”

“And why not? He’s your love interest!” Miguel exclaims, obviously more furious than before. “You’re the Peter to his MJ. You gotta kiss him because you’re destined to be.”

“I don’t love him! I don’t even like his whiny ass!” You snap as you felt your frustrated tears roll down your face.

It’s true. Before you joined this team, you would have been thrilled that you were destined to be with Campus Hunk Ben Riley. He was everything you could ever want from a guy. He was good looking, sensitive, athletic, and social able. The all around good guy you would be proud to bring home to your folks.

But…

Sharp grasp on your shoulder alerts your attention back to Miguel as he slams you back against the desk. His eyes burning embers as he glares down at you.

~~~~~~~~~~

Changing into your spidersuit, you began to fight The Rhino with a distracted daze in your movements.

The memory from a week prior burning in your mind as you sloppily avoided cars and harsh blows. After a few well timed flips and back kicks, the brute decides to throw a large street cleaning truck towards the alleyway. Just like Lyla predicted when she handed you the file.

The Rhino is gonna throw a street cleaner towards the alleyway where Ben is. SpiderWoman will stop the truck before impact and sling it back towards The Rhino ending the fight.

~~~~~~~

“And why is it that you are being so difficult?!” He snaps as his fangs glimmer from his scowl. A cute trait you used to love about him until it was pointed at you. “You are no better than a spoiled child with how you are acting so you better have a good fucking reason!”

You growl back at him with a tear rolling down your enraged face.

He had no right to argue with you about your life, not when he’s the one making it difficult.

~~~~~~~

Shooting a web out towards the buildings, you catapulted yourself into the air and landed in front of the truck. Quickly reusing the web with some enforcements, the truck was bounced back to the The Rhino. The enormous foe gets trampled by the machinery as the crowd cheers for SpiderWoman’s dreaded victory.

“Way to go SpiderWoman!!” A familiar voice joins the crowd as I see Ben on the ground, obviously he either tripped or fell back to avoid the truck. You offer a hand towards him as you thank him softly.

“Thank you.” I faked the smile in my voice as the crowd disappears, leaving the two of you in the alley way.

~~~~~

Finally snapping at him, you yell out in fury,

“BECAUSE HE’S NOT YOU!”

With a frustrated slap to Miguel’s face, you run past him and escaped back to your dimension, heartbroken over how the events to come and what just happened that despite everything you couldn’t change fate.

No matter how many times you fell asleep during long nights talking on his observation deck. No matter how many playful sparring matches turn into flirty comments. Not even the little gestures of bringing the grumpy spider his coffee and him bringing you some sweets during meetings could change that the star already written your path.

You fell in love with a man who isn’t meant to be yours.

~~~~~

It’s been a week since that fight and you still haven’t seen or heard from him. It hurt to know that your confession was brushed aside while you had to continue the continuity. You half at least expected him to be here to make sure you at least followed through with the canon event.

“Would you like a swing home?” I offer just like I’m supposed to. The moment that was meant to be a nervous beginning to a love story felt like the beginning of heartache as I watched a blush form on his face.

“Sure,” he answered before a flash of realization that his date was suddenly not with him. Another trait you wouldn’t have noticed if you were as in love with him as you were suppose to be.

“Hey my date isn’t here…I think she got hurt or lost during the panic.” His concern caused a pang of guilt to stab her in the chest.

Recovering quickly, you shoot out some webbing and playfully hang upside down infront of him. “Well I guess that swinging date will have to be postponed.”

“Wait it was gonna be a-!”

Quickly, you pulled down the mask enough to deliver a quick peck to his rambling mouth. You force out a giggle as he stood looking at you flabbergasted.

“See ya, Riley.” You swing off as the man bumbled to even ask how you knew his name.

Lyla just said it was a kiss, not a what kind of kiss.

With a heavy heart, you swing back home as you tried to remember that this was all for the sake of the canon. That Miguel didn’t care for you the way you did for him. You tried your hardest to tell your aching heart that those past few months were you just making too much out of nothing.

You mournfully entered your apartment through the bathroom window you normally kept unlocked . You stripped away the skin tight fabric before wrapping yourself in the familiar comfort of your robe as you exited the room into a dim lit living room.

You heart stick in your chest as you see Miguel standing there in your living room in his bright blue spider suit and a beautiful spring lily in his hand.

“Miguel? What are you doing here?…” You ask as yoy warily approach him, scared he’s gonna do something to you.

He shakes his head, refusing to answer as he hands you the flower. It’s soft white petals shining in the pale moonlight as you smile fondly at it. They were your favorite flower. Something you told Miguel a million times before.

Before you could thank him for the kind gesture, a soft thump above you alrets you to look up. A spindle of glowing webbing cascaded down the ceiling with the large spiderman now suspended upside down from it. His free hand caresses the side of your face as his eyes stared softly into yours.

“I can’t change the canon, mi amor…” he whispers sadly before mischief lights up his molten gaze. “But we certainly can try to rewrite the stars for us.”

An excited nod from you causes his chest to rumble as he pulls you into a slow passionate kiss.

You were glad this is a canon event for spider men despite it not going as planned.

#miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara #across the spiderverse #fanfic

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maryp50 · 1 month ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/maryp50/764727605136097280?source=share

im curious to know what your thoughts on this scene were!

Hi anon! Okay, so don't come for me, but my thoughts and feelings about that scene in particular, and Lindsay in general, are not exactly on the positive side. Also, I'm not the best at articulating my thoughts about my blorbos so this might be a jumbled mess.

So anyways, that scene is really irritating to me because Lindsay has the audacity to ask Brian if he's gonna be alright without Justin when she's the one who orchestrated his going to NYC. Like, yes, I know that Brian and Justin are both adults and made this decision together. But frankly they were pushed into it, specifically Brian. Justin had already told her New York wasn't his dream, that he could paint anywhere, and Lindsay didn't like that answer. So she makes sure Brian knows about the article, which btw, one glowing article in one trade magazine does not a career make, but I digress. She knows the way Brian feels about success and money and making something of oneself and she thinks Justin's wrong and she knows Brian will figure out a way to make him go. And on top of that, she's taking Gus away! So yeah, that scene is upsetting to me that Lindsay asks this of Brian when she's a big part of him losing two people he loves most, Justin and Gus.

I realize that Brian is a big boy and makes his own decisions. But a lot of them are made with the idea that he is unlovable and should not be anyone's first choice when opportunity lies ahead. Especially when it comes to Justin. And Justin knows this about Brian, and he is also very aware of how Brian feels about success and money and building a career, which is why I believe he didn't show the article to Brian himself. He knows Brian's gonna push him to go and he doesn't want to, at least he didn't the two times the article is mentioned by Lindsay and then by Brian in that cute scene at the end of 5x12.

This next bit isn't about that scene anymore, I did warn you I ramble lol, but I don't think Brian and Justin should have got married, at least not at the time of the end of the show. Maybe down the line. But how can they get married when neither of them discussed, not even once, what marriage meant to them. Like what are Justin's expectations for marriage, specifically being married to Brian? What are Brian's? It would have been nice to have seen a convo between them about that, and it didn't even need to be something long and drawn out, I'm sure a few minute scene would have sufficed. Because they were both assuming a helluva of a lot of shit that other wanted from, or thought about marriage, without discussing it at all. And that contributed to the "that's not love, that's sacrifice" BS that Brian spouts (I say BS because, yes Brian, sometimes one does need to make sacrifices for love), and Justin going to NYC.

So, yes I know there are other issues at play with the decision for Justin to go to NYC, and that Brian and Justin make this decision for themselves, but imo the seeds were planted by Lindsay. Because she apparently knows what's best for Justin, even tho Justin is also a big boy and had his mind made up before she meddled.

Sorry this took so long, I had to gather my thoughts and then typing this all out took a lot longer than I thought it would lol.

#queer as folk #brian kinney #justin taylor #lindsay peterson #britin #analysis #please be nice if you disagree #I don't usually make analysis posts #I think this is probably the first one I've ever written in any fandom #cuz I'm not great at articulating all my thoughts #and imo there are other far better analysis posts out there by other lovely fans #ask

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whorergal · 2 years ago

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SURPRISED?

summary: you're ghostface instead of ethan…

warnings: descriptions of blood & murder. overall really gory. language (cussing).

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader, platonic sam carpenter x fem!reader, enemies quinn bailey x fem!reader

authors note: ethan and quinn aren't related in this one btw!! i really liked this idea so here's me trying my best to write it to the best of my ability 😭 also anika lives bc she's my pookie <3

——————————————————————————————

You sat in Quinn's room, making sure to stay clear from the windows she had purposely left open. Messages from Ethan and your friends in general went crazy as they wondered where you were and why you weren't answering. You rolled your eyes, understanding their worry but seeing as you were the cause behind their constant paranoia, you found it annoying to be bothered.

Quinn had left her room, saying she needed to not act suspicious. Her hookup would be making his grand reveal in a couple of minutes where you would be hiding in the closet, hoping to not be forced to witness something that would physically make you ill.

Noises outside the room got louder as you heard everyone laughing. It brought a smile to your face until you forced yourself to drop it.

Yes, you loved your friends. You had known Tara, Chad, Mindy and Sam your whole life—how could you not grow to love them? But, then again, you weren't planning their demise half the time you spent with them until last year when you grew vengeful.

Ethan was just an fortunate bonus you collected once moving to New York that happened to please Quinn, her being the mastermind and all. She liked the idea of getting someone like him to trust you just like how her brother Richie did with Sam.

Although, you did end up falling for Ethan and not just for the act. It was never in your head to make him love you just to hurt him in the end until Quinn meddled into your life and found out about you two. Then, the thought of your reveal and how he would react never left your mind. For some reason, it never crossed your thoughts that you would eventually have to face him seeing as you were too in love with him to kill him.

Your phone screen lit up, a picture of Ethan you took when he was studying popped up. You sighed, making sure to keep your voice low as you answered. "Hey, E."

"Y/N/N, where are you? I thought you said you'd be coming over tonight?" Ethan's worried voice caused your heart to swell. God, you hated lying to him.

"Yeah, I know but I'm still stuck in class," you lied very effortlessly. "My teacher offered to give us extra time to prepare for our next exam so I decided to stay. I might be around in an hour or two."

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've stayed with you," he immediately told you. "I hate knowing you're alone."

"E, I'm fine. I'm in a class full of thirty other people plus my professor," you reassured him, staring into the ceiling.

"Doesn't matter, Y/N/N. What if Ghostface attacks you on your way over? Or what if he's there at—"

"Hey, hey," you interrupted his rambling. "Look, I've done this once before, he'll have to try a lot harder then sneak attacking me while I'm in an Econ class."

"Y/N, I'm being serious," Ethan said sternly.

"So am I," you countered with a breathless chuckle. "How about this? I'll call you when I'm on my way over and we can facetime so you can make sure I'm okay."

The line was quiet until you heard a soft, "okay."

"I love you, E," you told him sadly, hoping he couldn't tell as you continued. "Please be safe. If anything happens, don't play the hero, okay? I can't lose you."

You were saying that mostly for yourself. You'd be the one behind the mask and if he did get in the way, you'd be forced to do something you didn't want to do. You had managed to steer Quinn clear from him until tonight and the last thing you wanted to do was cause him any ounce of pain.

"I should be telling you that," he told you with a smile, you could hear it through his voice. "I'll try not to, alright. Just…I love you. If anything does happen tonight and I can't say it again, just know that I really love you, Y/N."

"Don't say that, E," you interrupted. Your heart felt like it was stuck in your throat. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"You can't control it, Y/N/N," he let out weakly. "But I'm sure nothing's gonna happen, okay? So just worry about your exam and call me later. I love you."

"I love you too, E," you mumbled sadly.

"Get a room!" you heard Mindy yell in the background.

"Minds, stop. It's cute," Sam defended you two.

"Bye, E." You laughed; you couldn't help it.

You hung up the phone, staring down at his contact picture for a second longer. For some reason, that one conversation alone had you rethinking your choices. Would it be so bad to back out of the plan now? Quinn and her dad can take care of the rest—you only had to do with those two college nerds deaths and another guy who you'd seen bothering Ethan on campus, but that was it. The rest was Wayne, which was only the bodega and Sam's therapist.

The thought of even having to possibly kill Sam, especially Sam, because of how close you were with her made you sick to your stomach. So, why were you still apart of a plan that ensured her death along with your friends?

Your second thoughts were interrupted by the swift open of Quinn's door. The redhead came barging in, wearing her pink silk nightgown that barely reached her thighs.

"Nice conversation with your boyfriend," she told you with a certain distaste in her tone.

"Had to make sure I didn't sound suspicious," you defended yourself, getting up from the floor but staying in the corner of the room. You were lying.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "How long are you going to string him along? He's going to hate you when he finds out what you've done…that's if he survives that long."

"He stays out of our plan, remember?"

"Where's the fun in that?" she whined, walking over to mess with your black robe. "He takes you away from me all the time."

You shoved her away. "I told you, Quinn; you and your dad don't touch him. That was our only agreement."

"Yeah, it was when you realized you loved him," she had to point out. "He's turning you against us. Before you met him, you were excited to get revenge just like us."

"No, he's not but is it bad for me to not want to see the one person I actually care about harmed? It's not my fault that the only person you cared about was murdered."

"Just because you're apart of this plan doesn't mean I won't kill you," Quinn threatened as your words fell loosely from your mouth. You just couldn't stand when she badmouthed Ethan in front of you.

"Oh, shut up," you replied annoyedly. "Your dad won't even let you get behind the mask."

Quinn got quiet because it was true until she spoke, having to have the final word. "Fine, you got kills but do you really think Ethan would date a murderer? What're going to do when we complete act three? You think he's going to want to be with you after you helped kill his friends?"

"Fuck off," you snapped, letting her words get under your skin which you shouldn't have.

Quinn was going to continue bothering you but her phone went off. Her current boyfriend of the month was on his way up, forcing you to put the mask over your head and hide inside the closet.

Surprisingly, she didn't do much with him. You were sure she wouldn't pass up the opportunity to make you watch her but it seemed she was excited to get on with the plan. It only made up of occasional frisky touching, some things that were still counted as sexual activities that did make you look away but nothing too extravagant.

He ended up leaving to her connected bathroom to take a shower, saying how he felt dirty. Quinn then started to call her dad, basically filling him in and then she turned to you, gesturing for you to make your grand appearance as she saw Danny standing by his window just like planned.

Your boots helped make you seem taller as you stalked toward her very slowly. Her back was facing you as she rambled on the call about something. Your hand gripped your knife as the thought of actually killing her surfaced in your head. No, you couldn't do that.

Noises coming from across the window caught your attention as you looked up, seeing Danny pointing at you while yelling words you couldn't hear. You tilted your head at him, walking away inside the bathroom.

Killing her boyfriend wasn't too hard as you caught him off guard but the scene had become gory. You'd taken your pent up anger on the poor guy, his blood covering the entire room that you didn't notice until you backed away from where he laid lifelessly in the tub, naked.

You grimaced at yourself and what you had done.

Walking back into the room, you decided to start the act earlier than Quinn wanted, knowing it would piss her off. You rose your knife and planted it straight into the mattress, startling her as she let out an authentic gasp.

She began to scream, making sure to keep it leveled so it didn't sound too suspicious to everyone outside her room. She needed them to believe she was having sex so they wouldn't interrupt before she could get in her costume, which was just covering her entire body with fake blood and a few slashes from your knife to make it even more realistic.

You pulled her up, wrapping your arm around her neck just as you saw Danny take a picture. Then you tossed her to the floor where she crawled to the fake blood and splattered it all over herself and her room.

A couple more seconds, she continued to scream until she stopped and you heard the group outside running toward the door until the silence made them halt.

"Showtime," Quinn whispered proudly.

It made you sick to your stomach.

You held her up, taking a second to let her collect herself before you threw the door open and charged her body at them. Quinn fell on Anika, taking her and Mindy down as the girl screamed at Quinn's "dead" body.

Then, everyone scattered. You saw Chad pull Ethan and Tara toward the direction of the door and you decided to let them go on the account it would mean Ethan was safe. You headed straight toward Mindy, slashing her in the arm, knowing it would be enough to make her weak as blood always made her squeamish to the point she would pass out at times.

Your goal was to get Mindy. That was the plan Quinn had created for you to do but you couldn't. The rush of it all hit you once you saw her hunch over to hold her wound, trying not to vomit at the sight of the blood.

Anika was about to attack you for what you had done to her girlfriend but you got smacked in the face but a large object, sending you flying against the TV. When you peered through your mask, you saw Ethan's familiar light blue shirt and his curly hair, reaching down to help Mindy and Anika. Fuck, you thought. You should've known.

"Come on," he urged them both up.

You collected yourself quickly, slicing him in the arm and throwing him and Mindy against the table. The sound of his wince caused your heart to break but at least he wasn't in your way anymore.

Turning, you gripped Anika and pulled her up by the throat, which wasn't that hard at how light she was to carry. You slammed her against the wall and drove the knife in her gut. She let out a scream that actually made you sad. You could feel yourself losing grip on your knife. Thankfully, you were hit in the head again, causing you to fall to the floor and drop Anika.

Sam dropped the knife dispenser and went reaching for Anika as she carried her inside Quinn's bedroom. Ethan and Mindy were following closely behind. You got up and slammed against the door, causing Sam and Ethan to push against you even harder.

You stopped, remembering the second entrance to Quinn's room. You ran around and almost got through until you saw Ethan immediately run to slam the door in your face. Without thinking, you slipped through the crack and swung your knife around which sliced his skin again, making him even more annoyed, putting full force in his last push. You fell back just as you heard Sam and Mindy put a dresser against it so you couldn't enter.

Would it be so bad to let them go? You were about to give up until you looked behind at where Quinn was playing dead and she gave you a head gesture, as if telling you to get through that door and do something.

You started to kick it, slam your body against it, and slowly but surely the door started to crack. You could finally see in and you saw that they were trying to leave through the window on a ladder, thanks to Danny. You rolled your eyes, growing psychically exhausted but you continued to push against the door, the dresser beginning to shake.

Purposely, you didn't use your strength. You wanted them to survive. Poor Anika made you see that once you saw the gutted look on her face. You weren't close with her but she was a nice girl and she deserved to live. So did Sam and Mindy. Especially so did Ethan.

Sam went first, you caught sight of her hair just as she made it through. Then, Ethan of course had to make sure one of the girls went before him. Mindy gave Anika a kiss, thinking it'd be their last as she shakily made it on the ladder and got through. You continued to slam against the door as you watched Ethan pick Anika up from the bed, walking her toward the window where he helped her get on the ladder and kept it stable for her.

She took awhile to get through that you unfortunately made it inside just as Ethan was barely exiting the window. You stalked toward it slowly because you knew you weren't going to let him die.

"Ethan, you have to hurry!" Sam and Mindy screamed.

He turned around and the scared look on his face could've been enough to kill you. You slammed your knife on the window sill and grabbed the ladder.

They all were expecting some foul play on your end, encouraging him to be quicker but you didn't. Instead, you held the ladder down and stabilized it for him. Sam watched in shock. She was the only one who noticed your action that had been completely out of character.

Ethan made it inside Danny's apartment a second after and they all looked at you. You tilted your head at them, pulling your knife out. Then, you were gone. You didn't even wait for Quinn because you needed to get out of that costume and in Ethan's arms as quick as possible.

#ethan landry #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #jack champion #scream imagine #scream vi imagine

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