#i feel a little bad tagging them since i was sorta shit-talking them the whole time

[thefandomenchantress]

I’ve seen a lot of people condemning Hu for her actions towards Nico.

Which is understandable. At this point in the story, we’ve just recently started to see that her treatment of them tends to lean less towards friendly guidance and more towards babying them (Her cutting them off, and telling them that they’re just confused). In the trial, she admits that her main goal in life is to be useful. To be needed. And this undoubtedly carries over into her friendship with Nico.

It wouldn’t be completely honest to say that none of what Hu does, like her wanting to take care of others, relates to her need to be useful. While I think it’s a little unfair to say Hu doesn’t do what she does because she cares for others, and that she instead does it in order to strengthen her self-worth, I also think it’s unfair to ignore that part of her character.

But why am I saying all of this? I’m sure plenty of people have covered this topic before. Well, here’s the thing. I don’t really love how Hu is singled out in the what-she-does-isn’t-100%-selfless department.

I think it’s understandable why she’s so easily singled out, since the most recent episode made this part of her character extremely visible:

It’s abundantly clear that this is where Hu’s character arc is going. Whether she doubles down or reflects on her behavior is still up in the air.

But I think when people saw all that, they jumped to the conclusion that someone helping others partially for their own sake was a character flaw specific to Hu. I don’t agree, though.

We’re here to talk about Levi.

Ah, yes, the Ace-Nico parallels continue. But in all seriousness, I often see people debating over this part of Hu’s character. Hell, I even wrote a fic primarily about it. I haven’t, however, seen anyone talk about how Levi…Also kinda does this?

Levi wants to be a good person. He wants to be seen as a good person, he wants to be someone people can rely on for protection. The chapter is even named after his desire for this.

And maybe it’s just me…But I think that desire carries over to his friendship with Ace, just like how Hu’s desire to be useful carries over to her friendship with Nico.

Levi wants Ace to forgive him so badly. Why? Why? Honestly, it’s a question that kind of bothers me, because…

…This breakdown just doesn’t feel spontaneous to me. It feels like the entire chapter (and prologue) was leading up to it. Levi, in this moment of stress, is finally fed up with Ace, enough so that he even threatens his life.

As we’ve seen before, Levi doesn’t usually get this emotionally charged. The only way for this to happen is for these feelings of his to have been building up for a long time.

Which returns us to our question: If Levi doesn’t even seem to like Ace that much, then why does he want Ace to forgive him so badly?

It isn’t because he valued his and Ace’s friendship to an astronomical degree, (a friendship that only lasted less than a week), it’s because Ace not forgiving Levi makes Levi feel like a bad person.

He needs Ace to forgive him, to say that it’s okay and that he knows deep down Levi is a good person and didn’t mean it. Otherwise he’s stuck feeling guilty and like all the progress he’s been making towards his goal of being good is gone.

One could even say that feeling like a good person was Levi’s motivation to be friends with Ace in the first place, because let’s face it. I love Ace, I really do. And I don’t blame him for not wanting to forgive Levi immediately. If someone threatened my life like that, I’d probably need a week or maybe more to recover before wanting to forgive them. But not wanting to forgive Levi isn’t quite the equivalent to the way Ace treats Levi, even before Levi threatens him. Why would Levi genuinely want to spend so much time around a person who, in simple terms, treats him like shit?

The answer may be that being friends with Ace, someone who he thought needed protection, felt like the right thing to do. It felt like what a good person would do. They would put up with Ace’s antics in order to help him, even if it wasn’t much fun.

I’m very aware that this is an…Uncharitable look at Levi’s character. A pessimistic analysis on why he does what he does. But I believe that if we’re going to condemn Hu, maybe we should consider Levi’s actions as well.

I’m not trying to say that what Levi and Hu do is the same. But they are comparable. In the end, it feels like neither do what they do purely because they care and want to protect others. Hu wants to be useful, Levi wants to be good. And they act accordingly.

Hopefully all this makes sense. I just wanted to share a take I had on an issue I’ve seen floating around. If you want to share your thoughts on this I’d love to hear them. I’m curious to see what people think about this, since I haven’t seen people talk about it before.

[5hrignold]

this line paired with the fact that (if my spoilers were right anyway) peepers did the loveheart pupils thing directed toward hater . much to think about

[2knightt]

HII!! could you write the gang with a reader that has an rbf and seems really intimidating/unapproachable but is a sweetheart? they arent very talkative and seem very cold but their love language is acts of service/gift giving & sorta quality time?? <33

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ pretty as a vine, sweet as a grape. ⋄ 𓍯

…REQUESTED: you never judge a book by it’s cover. especially when it comes to y/n!

tags/warnings: people being judgy asf/spreading rumours, gang defending reader with their soul, reader is a softie i fear, reader is kinda shy, probably stupid:3c, steve threatening a manLMFAO

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ READER IS SO ME CODED HELLO also if two-bits part sounds stupid it ‘s because i’m high rn and even if can admit it’s a little iffy

—

dallas winston

thought of you as someone to be threatened by at first ngl

he heard of this scary, mean mugged, tuff looking girl and went ‘mh. an enemy🐺😒’

he went up to you one day, acting all tuff and shit just for you to look him up and down and nervously wave

look, he may not be the smartest cookie but he can see someone shy a mile away. and when he seen you wave, he felt like such an ass LMFAO

did he show it? no. obviously.

this is dallas. he’s an asshole.

“little miss tough girl, huh?”

“…pardon?”

that teasing from him DID continue until you walked away because dallas is the type to never back down, even when he’s wrong

expect for the next time you met him!!!!

he was actually asking you your name, where you’re from, etc, etc!!!

turning a new leaf dare i say…

and everything after that was history! cutest scary looking couple ever!

HE THINKS IT’S SOOO FUNNY THAT PEOPLE ARE SCARED OF YOU LMFAOOO

he plays into it sm if someone brings it up bro

“y/n? like..scary y/n?”

“yeah, like scary y/n. and i’ll get ‘er on ya if you keep talkin’ ‘bout her.”

“oh!😰”

he thinks it’s so silly to see you look really pissed off when he isn’t around just to greet you and see your whole demeanour change!!

dallas thinks it’s so cute😭 it’s like one of his favourite things about you!

“😠😒”

“hey, baby.”

“oh! hi, dal!<3”

LMFAO IMAGINE SOMEONE SEEING YOU, A MEAN LOOKING GIRL, SHOPPING FOR MENS LEATHER JACKETS

yuppp spoil that dickhead!😫 he lovelovelovesss getting gifts, ESPECIALLY from u!!!

if you’re clingy, i feel like he wouldn’t mind it. he teases THE FUCK out of u tho!😊

“big tough girl wants to hold hands, eh?”

“…yea😞.”

“awh, look at ya. come ‘ere.”

johnny cade

you might think he’d be scared and intimidated, right? but NO! he’s literally bff’s with ponyboy, he knows damn well what rbf is!

you two are sooo cute together

little kicked, scared puppy with his feral doberman!!!

tells people to stfu whenever they try and spread rumours that you’re scary, mean, and rude.

“you’re dating y/n? don’t you know she-“

“i don’t care, shut up. ‘s not like you know her😒.”

sometimes refuses your gifts.

johnny’s not used to them :( but all u gotta do is say please and flutter your lashes and u got em!!!!

“i can’t take it.”

“please?😞”

“…okay😣.”

and he DOES NOT regret it! he might fight you at first, but he cherishes those gifts with his life<3!

loveloveloveLOVESSS having u around constantly!! since your love language is quality time, you two are always hanging out together.

and, with your scary looks, you often keep the socs away from him!

hip-hip, hooray‼️‼️

the gang was like…worried for johnny at first.

THEY DIDN’T KNOW U WERE COOL THO😭😭💔💔💔

they were all like, “??seriously, johnny?? you pick the meanest girl?? ever???” and johnny was QUICK to defend. “y’all ain’t even meet her, and you’re already sayin’ she’s bad for me?”

when they did though, they were like ‘ohhhh….she really isn’t rude…..oh….’

HE’S SO PROUD TO DATE U THO LMFAOOO

and to know the real you?? treats it like an HONOUR

ponyboy curtis

was intimidated by you.

forgot he was also like you and accidentally glares at people who walk past him LMFAOOOO

You two are like two peas in a pod istg!!

“you look mean from far away,”

“???so do you, pony??”

“…no??”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ‘NO’?”

mean looking couple who are truly just a bunch of nerds deep down to their soul<3

the gang was a little protective of ponyboy until they realized ur just like him LMFAO

They get having an rbf<3

pony loves spending time with you!

gift him a book and he’ll love you forever!!! (maybe even read it to you when you two are finally alone to help you fall asleep🤍)

he’s such a cutie…..

stays close to you in public because he thinks you’re scarier looking than anyone he’s ever met😊😊.

“cm’ere,”

“why?🤨”

“BECAUSE🙄!”

SCARY DOG Y/N IS REAL.

glares at anyone who goes around telling people that you’re mean and rude.

if looks could kill, they’d be dead already!!!

ponyboy does not fuck around with u i fear.

Sodapop Curtis

LMFAOOO GREEK GOD OF A MAN WITH HIS PISSED OFF GF WHO IS NERVOUSLY HOLDING HIS HAND !!!

he was NOT afraid of you!! in fact, he thought the rumours of you being an asshole were all fake

“you talkin’ about y/n?”

“yes, bro! they’re so rude-“

“how do you know?”

“well, i don’t-“

“so, shut up?😒”

cuz like??? did they not bother to understand you???

soda literally made it his mission to prove that you weren’t a dick!!😭😭

and GODDAMN HE WAS SO RIGHT

you’re such a sweetheart to soda! he lovesss telling people about how cute you are around him since it’s his own way to squash the rumours.

“my y/n is so sweet, you wouldn’t get it.”

“isn’t she the same girl who beat the soc to a pulp?”

“she can barely kill a fly.”

you don’t need to do much to scare off the girls that flirt with him at the DX, just a nice little glare every now and then and they’re already gone!

(soda doesn’t have to know that you play into the rumours sometimes. it’s our little secret.)

steve randle

HATES EVERYONE WHO TALKS ABOUT YOU

he’s petty AS FUCK LMFAOOO

they can’t handle the randle😜💯

“ew, y/n-“

“MAN, GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY FACE WITH THAT WHAT DO YOUUU KNOW ABOUT Y/N🗣️‼️”

that was an over exaggeration but you get the point.

gets very defensive when people try and ‘warn’ him about you lmfao

gift him a tool box and he’ll use it until it’s literally falling apart at the bolts<3

no seriously. it could be holding on by one screw and he’ll still use it. he doesn’t gaf. steve will use anything u give him.

he accepts ur rbf cause he thinks it’s SO FUNNY?? like he’ll see you far away with your friends looking all angry before one of them says a really funny joke and just watches your expression change so quickly

one of his fav things ever<3!

two-bit mathews

he makes so much jokes about it LMFAOOO

“jesus, y/n! you sure yer glare ain’t the thing that killed the dinosaurs?”

—

“swear i see the devil in yours eyes sometimes. it looks soooo good on you, though🤭🤭”

HE THINKS ITS SO ATTRACTIVE

and he lovesss your sweetheart side sm it’s like he gets best of both worlds

RAHH GIFT TWO-BIT MICKEY PLUSHIE OR ELSE

He’d totally have it on his bed 24/7. his sister has tried to steal it before to scare him btw.

skmetimes just to spend time together with him—you just go walking around town with him while he has an arm around your shoulder the whole time<3

[amoristt]

Just a Dare | Nathan Prescott x Reader

@trueloveknifefight asked, Also can I request Nathan asking you out?

here u are! i love writing convos w nathan UGH i adore his character.

as always, replies and reblogs are greatly appreciated1 i check all tags and comments <3

wanna support me for just $3? here's my ko-fi!

The lights were bright, vivid. Almost blinding. They dance LED accents into the reflection of your drink- a dull plastic cup filled to the brim with one part whiskey, zero parts mixer. The taste could bring a tear to your eye but you would be damned to water down such fine alcohol, provided by none other than Nathan Prescott himself.

Music reverberated along the pool rooms walls, laughter and hollers distantly rising with the tempos. Your foot absently tapped to the beat- you were never one for dancing. Never one for parties, either, actually, favoring drinking in the solitude of a small friend group.

If not for Nathan you wouldn't be here at all. Some would say it's a privilege to slip past those heavy doors, entering the dully lit world of the Vortex Club. You mostly just felt like it was all for show. Somehow securing a place among Nathan's friend group, and a good friend at that, it was almost duty to show up. He insisted on it.

So, here you were. Leaning against a wall in a suffocatingly warm, cramped pool room surrounded by a sea of faces you hardly recognized.

That was, until you saw Nathan's face peer through the small break in shifting bodies. You knew him all too well.

Strikingly handsome, equally strikingly pompous. Funny, crude, an absent minded party goer just as much as he was a fireball with racing, incoherent thoughts. A drinker, a druggie. Takes the edge off, he says, but you think he does it to take away his thoughts completely. You felt like his entire life was all edges, never sacred ground.

The poor bastard.

He lures your attention in as he saunters over with squared shoulders, narrowly avoiding spilling his drink when a random student cuts it a little too close. Normally Nathan would make a bigger deal, give him what for, but this time he just shoots the poor kid a menacing glare and grumbles, 'fucking watch it'. He's walking with purpose and intent, you can see it on his face. You must have a target on your forehead as he darts straight over.

When he comes to your side, his own alcohol dripping down the sides of his cup onto his wiry fingers, you raise a brow.

"Something wrong?" You ask, as he takes a spot leaning against the hard wall right next to you.

"Just wondering why you're being so fucking lame over here," He shouts over the music, taking a sip of his drink, grimacing at the taste. "We're all having a good time over at the lounge and you're over here acting like all the other wallflower nobodies."

You roll your eyes with upturning lips. "Maybe I like being a wallflower. I like people watching. I see things no one else does."

"Yeah, okay, fucking weirdo."

"I mean it," You push off the wall and grin. "Look-" You point to a student obviously wasted, drink held high over head while he lets the music take him away. "That guy is clearly trashed- he's having the time of his life. He's gotta be seeing double."

Nathan whistles at his state, taking in the guys goofy smile, half lidded eyes. "I'll bet it's the triplets. I could breathe on him too hard and he'd fall over."

"You should go try it." You tease. He shakes his head and takes another drink.

"Nah, he'll get it himself. Guarantee we'll be dragging him out by his feet by the end of the night." He shrugs. "Or, at least someone will. I sure as fuck ain't staying that long."

You snicker. "What, got a hot date?" Nathan glares at you. "Oh don't tell me," you cup your hands to whisper, a secretive gesture, "homework?"

"Fuck no," He scoffs, and you can just barely see that he's a little more than tipsy now. His pale cheeks dusted with red, the tip of his nose ruby under the harsh lighting. It's also then that you realize he's a little more tense than usual, even despite the drinking. He's standing straight upright, his right hand gripping his cup like a crutch and his left now shoved hastily into his pocket.

He hasn't looked at you dead in the eyes yet.

"So what is it then?" You ask curiously. He shrugs and stares into his cup. You frown. "Bro, are you like, good right now? Do you wanna leave?"

For the first time since he'd wandered over, Nathan looks up at you. His eyes are unreadable, but his composure seems stressed. He shrugs again. Before you can even open your mouth to ask him about his state, he sighs and downs an entire mouthful of burning whiskey. It makes you cringe just watching him.

"Fuck it," He huffs. "Look I got some stupid ass dare to come over here and put the moves on you, okay." He sounds almost annoyed, like it's a hassle for him, or maybe embarrassing. You cross your arms. "I was dared to come over here and try to get you like, to fucking, you know, leave with me, but now that I'm over here I'm starting to think maybe that was a dumbass idea."

"Leave with you?" You say incredulously, a brow already lifting. "You were dared to come over here and try to sleep with me? By our friends?"

"No, no, fuck," Nathan seems agitated now, rushing. "Like a date sorta bullshit. Ask you out." He manages to get it out in almost the worst delivery possible, meanwhile you're just trying to pick out who would put him up to this. Hayden? Victoria?

A laugh forces its way out of you. "Aren't we a little too old for that game?"

Nathan shrugs. "That's what I said but they insisted. Fucking babies. At least make the dare a little more fun than just asking some bitch out. That's like elementary level shit."

Your eyes widen, you scoff. "Excuse me?"

Nathan sputters. "You're not some bitch, I didn't mean to-... Fucks sake, I'm clearly a little drunk right now okay, if you could cut me some fucking slack that'd be awesome."

"Hey man I didn't ask to be a victim of bullying," You tease, and he can't help but laugh. You soften. "Never expected it from you, though of all people. As ironic as that sounds."

"I'm not even bullying you, come on. Don't be a bitch. I even admitted it and everything."

You grin. "Yeah. Gotta say though, I'm a little disappointed."

"Oh what, you wanted to see my moves?" Nathan hums. "You wanted some Prescott action?"

"Shut the hell up." You shove his shoulder, an action that would be a mistake to so many others, but for you, it was welcomed. "I'm disappointed that it was just a dare. I'd probably have said yes if it wasn't. But, oh well."

Nathan doesn't answer for a long moment. First, he stares into his drink, processing. Almost like he hadn't heard that right, or like you were messing with him. It's rare to see Nathan Prescott stunned into a momentary silence. He's thinking, wondering what he should say next. Suspicious that you're just playing with him, hopeful that maybe you aren't.

And, you hadn't been. Truth be told if given the chance you would allow him to take you out for the evening. Show you fancy things, try out something a little more intimate than just laughter and poking fun at classmates together. You enjoyed his presence, looked forward to it at times.

A small part of you had hoped that he felt the same, maybe. Somehow. While grateful that he respected you enough to cut the crap before it even began, you couldn't help but feel a little... Disheartened at the prank. You'd saved your pride by denying him beforehand, but, if it had been genuine...

"So if it wasn't a dare," He began, quietly, barely audible over the booming music overhead. Eyes barely visible in the sea of vibrant lights crashing like waves. "You'd have said yes."

You shrug, trying to play it casual to save your own feelings, just in case. "Probably. I mean, we're already friends. We have fun so it couldn't have been that bad." He nods along to almost every word.

"Well what if we did it anyways." He blurts.

"Did what?"

"Go out tonight. Like, you know ditch this lame ass party and have some real fun."

"You love this lame ass party, and plus," You shake your head in feigned annoyance. "I'm not sleeping with you, Nathan."

He glares at you. "Fucking duh. I'm just saying we can go and hang out somewhere else. This party happens all the fucking time so it's not like we're missing anything."

"But, wouldn't that make me the butt of our friends joke?"

He shrugs. "Fuck em. It was a dumb dare anyways."

"Now it seems like you're trying extra hard to convince me to say yes." You state, and he's frazzled, running lines through his brain to try and save the absolute failure of asking you out. You decide to spare him, take a little leap of faith for yourself. "But, alright. I'm in."

Nathan gapes at you. "You're in?"

"Yeah, why not. I'm not busy right now and if you're not either than," You smile. "Why not. You better wow me though, Prescott. I'm talking a night to remember. Fireworks, dinner by candle light, a serenade. The whole package."

Nathan's eyes light up, but he tries to hide it, rolls those beautiful blues. "Well considering I've had like no fucking time to prepare how about we instead go to the roof and chill out."

You toss the idea around in your head for show. You already knew the answer the moment he asked if you were being serious.

"I mean I guess that would work," You say. "I was looking for fireworks but I suppose that will suffice. Feel free to go tell our buddies their joke may have backfired on them."

Nathan shakes his head. "Nah, don't even bother. They're all drunk and probably don't even remember daring me in the first place."

"Alright then," You push yourself off the wall, feeling your cheeks warm. A flutter takes wing in the base of your chest, your heart picking up just a little faster. You can't stop the smile that graces you as you say, "Lead the way, Prescott."

Nathan does lead the way. He takes your hand into his own, your fingers tracing over his boney knuckles as he drags you through the sea of bodies, out to the school hall and up winding stairs.

You giggle like a child when he struggles to find the correct key on the janitors ring he'd snatched weeks ago just in case, tease him when he almost spills his drink all over himself. Nathan's hands are almost shaking, but you chalk it up to the alcohol. You chalk everything up to the alcohol- his trembling fingers, his red face, a shy, albeit goofy smile resting upon his lovely, angular face.

The night was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the smoldering heat of the Vortex Party.

He looks amazing out under the stars, and underneath the scope of the vast, black sky dotted with trillions of perfect, twinkling lights, you feel at peace.

Looking at him, you feel like this may be the start of something you'd denied yourself the chance of ever even imagining.

Out there, alone but together, hearing the echoes of music mixed with the livelihood of crickets in the darkness...

it truly was a night to remember.

-----------

Days later, you sit atop your desk, feet tapping rhythmically on your chair, typing away at your phone.

"Love the top," A familiar voice pipes, and you glace up to find Victoria standing before you, books pressed to her chest. She takes in your shirt, a nicely fitted long sleeve with a rather low cut v-neck. "Why haven't I see that one before?"

You shrug and set your phone down. "Never got around to wearing it I guess. Not a big fan of V-necks."

"It fits you," She sets her books down at the table beside you and brushes a hand through her hair, making sure every strand is in line. "I'll have to get one myself."

"You know what, you can have it after today," You say, and she perks up in disbelief. "As a thank you for what happened at the party."

That disbelief soon turned to confusion. "...Meaning?"

"Y'know, making Nathan ask me out. He made a whole huge deal about it- said you guys were drinking and playing Truth or Dare of all things. Gotta say, I was a little surprised."

Victoria's brows knit. "We hardly drank at that party, and I wouldn't be caught dead playing Truth or Dare. That game is for kids."

It almost knocks the wind out of you.

They hadn't even been playing in the first place.

As the teacher walks into the room, the first period bell blaring annoyingly over the speakers, you climb off your desk and prepare for the day, hardly able to contain yourself. It hadn't been a dare, after all.

And, you and Nathan's official second date was merely a day away.

[robinrequiems]

hey any1 want some superman jon and batman Damian hcs? too bad cause you’re getting them

• damian realized why no one wanted to be batman when he turned 18 and Bruce decided to give him batman when he was 22.

• jon realized why jon didn’t want to be superman when he also turned 18

• oh and right, by gave, I mean bruce sorta can’t be batman anymore. medical reasons…

• damian sorta uh. persuaded clark into giving jon superman.

Damian: look. I don’t wanna be worlds finest with you, old man.

Clark: im- im not old—

Damian: listen here, jon and i? we are gonna surpass you and my dad. so give it to jon and let me prove it.

Clark: this doesn’t seem like a good idea— you aren’t ready— neither is jon

Damian: wait- wait, you don’t believe in your son and i??? wow. WOOOW. okay. i see.

Clark: that’s not it!-

Damian: sure. sure. don’t worry. I see now.

Clark: wait I do!

Damian: no, no you don’t.. it’s— it’s okay, I get it, it’s me, huh?

Clark: no!

Damian: I get it

Clark: please i do! I’ll - oh my rao, you’re playing me

Damian: i am. i cant do this without jon though. please, Clark.

Clark: *sigh, how did he get manipulated by a kid he used to babysit* okay.

• okay so now jon may be a little overwhelmed because one day he’s flamebird, the next, he’s becoming superman? huH. it’s extremely uh. worrying. and really just? wow.

• does Damian feel bad? oh yeah. he does. so bad. but he really can’t do it alone. they always dreamed of being their parents. or being better than them. but they grew up and realized that they really didn’t want to be their parents.

• but here they were, getting fitted for their suits and adding their own details to it.

jon: hey, you look hot

damian: please. shut up.

• they could do this. they could do this. shoot they can’t do this.

• damians own anxiety was going 50 mph. look, okay? remember before heretic when Bruce thought that Damian would become a satanic batman and basically rain hell all over gotham? yeah. that’s what is going on in damians mind.

• he doesn’t want to be that. ( “you won’t be like that, cmon, d, we’re gonna be better.” ) and how Damian wants to believe jon so bad..

• he doesn’t want to become obsessed with Batman like his father did, he still wants to have a life. he doesn’t want to isolate himself away and adopt kids as a coping mechanism. that’s why he needs jon to be superman. jon helps him, he helps him not go off into his own little world and stay there. he believes that with Jon, he’ll be okay. he has to be. maybe he uses jon as his own coping mechanism, but that isn’t the point.

• together, they will outshine their parents. the supersons can do this. they are the next generation, and it’s not like they are alone. they have so many other people to help them. they’ll be okay.

• they have been preparing for this their whole life, but they both feel like they got it too soon. they thought they had more time. Damian does feel guilty when he hears jon talking about how stressed he is about superman and not living up to whatever the hell he has to live up to, but Damian does fear what would. or could. have happened if he didn’t have jon with him. becoming batman took a lot out of him, more than he would like to admit. he just got constant flashbacks to heretic and that whole fiasco he thought he put behind him a loong time ago.

Jon: are you sure you’re okay?

Damian: yes idiot, quit worrying.

Jon: I’ll always worry about, d.

• jon somehow becomes MORE sappier when he becomes superman.

• okay, also, funny story. ( Clark and Bruce don’t find it funny AT ALL ) superman and batman? yeah they sorta kissed after an almost alien invasion. in their suits. uh. in front of an alien who they were arresting for the green lanterns. most people believe that when people say it, it’s a lie, kidding. no they don’t. there were pictures.

bruce: you want to explain this?

damian: not really, no.

• the public knows there’s a new Batman and Superman since yk. Jon’s face is public and was seen as superboy flamebird and now superman, and batman was slightly smaller and had some different moves

• but here’s their main line up: batman ( dami wamie, obvi ), superman ( jonnyboy kent ), nobody ( maya:)) ), green lantern ( tai pham, my baby boy ), lace ( wallace west 2, he goes by lace instead of flash because i said so. ), and shazam ( billy b ).

• fun fact, they have a den mother even though they are all in their 20s. poor dinah.. yeah black canary is their den mother. ( stole it from from yj )

• dinah makes sure they get their injuries checked out, train regularly, and you know. don’t blow up a building.

• again.

• ( when damian and jon were younger, in their teen years, they stupidly accidentally blowed up a building. in their defense, the building was owned by the penguin. and there were no civilians in the area. but they also got a lot of men sent after them.. oops. )

• they are very chaotic. they are the definition of dumbass energy sometimes.

• damian tries to keep the pda down whenever he’s batman, BUT JON DOESNT KNOW HOW TO DO THAT

• hence the amount of photos of jon hugging Damian or kissing him

• damian has never once initiated one in suits

• ( that one time jon almost died does not count )

Damian: thought you were gonna be batman.

Tim: nah, i don’t wanna be bruce. i saw what it did to dick. I would’ve became just like him.

Damian: am i like him??

Tim: god no, bruce would never kiss superman or date him or spray paint the new justice league logo— nice logo, by the way— onto villains bases

Damian: is that a good or bad thing?

Tim; good, that means you probably won’t be a total emotional stunted person using crime fighting as an outlet for unresolved childhood trauma.

Damian: you do realize why i became Robin right

Tim: .. not the point im trying to make. I mean now, brat.

• sometimes you can see some of the heroes dropping by to surprise kids, they heard that their old mentors used to go to children’s hospitals to visit sick kids, so they did that too. on a rare day where there isn’t any crime, which is really rare, they go to a school and talk if it’s a weekday, or they drop by an orphanage to hang out with kids.

• they have gotten into a lot of trouble though. they’re still learning how to work as a team. jon and damian are used to being solo and working with each other, Tai had tagged along a few times when they were younger and knows how they work, along with maya, but billy and Wallace do not.

• they often all get into arguments.

• damian lacks a filter and will criticize everyone if they mess up. and he often goes off alone or is too blunt.

• it takes a long time before they all realize that Damian is just: Damian, he doesnt mean to be mean. ( surprisingly )

• billy is used to being the big kid stuck at the kids table, it’s funny that he’s actually the second oldest when he used to be the youngest. ( lace is like.. 27? shazam is 25.. nobody 24. & the supersons 22. pulled all those ages outta my ass. you’re welcome. )

• dinah is also their therapist. poor dinah.

• like really giving pity to dinah. but dinah loves those kids, she has known some since they were kids. she used to take damian out for ice cream and train with him, and also babysit him. ( AUNT DINAH IS MY FAVORITE GOODBYE ). and she did the same with Jon.

• dinah actually does help a lot of them get over their trauma, not completely, but most have finally spoken about it. they began talking after they all got hit with fear gas.

• that was a bad night.

• they had almost disbanded before when they thought lace had died by the hands of captain cold. they had been arguing all day, and if they didn’t, they might’ve saved him:

• but turns out he wasn’t dead.

• but the argument was still there, and it was strong. it took a while for them to actually work together without dinah forcing them.

• then soon came another new member after maya left to go do some undercover mission for the justice league regarding some alien tech being distributed some place. it was a sad goodbye, but she would be back and she would have a place here.

• welcoming: yara flor. yara was a bit headstrong and wild. damian has screamed at her a lot and almost got into a fist fight with her before being dragged off by his boyfriend 💋

• but she settled in fine. minus the fact damian really wanted to shove a batarang up— anyways. she just had to learn teamwork and shit, she was used to being a solo and she was somewhat new. so they helped her out and she became a solid member of the team.

• sometimes damian and jon just go and sit on a rooftop like they did as kids togeyher. just alone with each other. thinking about how their life changed so quickly.

Damian: i thought we’d ruin our fathers’ legacies and plummet to the ground.

Jon: *he coughed* ..what?

Damian: yeah. i didn’t think we’d get this far, but here we are.

Jon: of course we got this far, and we’re gonna get further.

Damian: i know.

• oh yeah. so. superman. fucking proposed after they defeated darkseid. ( the battle was long, so many people were left injured and on the brick of death, Damian and jon had been separated when it all started. Damian had stayed on earth at first before going to apokolips. Damn he hadn’t seen it since he got resurrected.

Darkseid: oh. I remember you.

Damian: mhm?

Darkseid: ah yes, the little boy who was resurrected here.. the chaos share, your father used it on you.

Damian: i know. i remember what happened. I was there afterall.

Darkseid: I wonder if you are as smart as the original batman.

Damian: i am.

• damian was buying time. he was waiting for reinforcements, namely the people who had powers and could take him down. damian wasn’t stupid. he realized darkseid liked to talk. his friends were fighting off the female furys or whatever they were called. he just had to wait and entertain.

Darkseid: quite the ego there.

Damian: i saved the justice league when i was 13, i deserve to have an ego.

Darkseid: oh, you are by far more talkative than the original.

Damian: thanks.

Darkseid: not a compliment, you fool.

• yeah so. darkseid tried to kill damian, with a beam thing. Damian was about to flip away like the baddie he is, but. jon. went out and yk. took the hit. dumbass.

Damian: you have such a big hero complex.

Jon: wow I just saved you and that’s what you say?????

Damian: yes.

• anyways, after they defeat darkseid, jon pops out a ring from his pocket and asks damian to marry him on apokolips.

Damian: you seriously couldn’t wait til we got on earth?

Jon: dames you almost died. what if- what if something happens, I’ve been putting this off for so long. cmon please?

Damian: you’re seriously asking me to marry you here where, I’m pretty sure, a lot of shit happened to our parents here.

Jon: no time like the present.

Damian: fair. okay.

Jon: just okay???

Damian: im sorry, do you want me to cry or something?

Jon: ughh, you can be so extra and petty sometimes.

Damian: i am not being petty.

Jon: just because I ask you to marry me here you wanna be like “okay” and that’s it

Damian: you’re so dramatic. I’ll marry you. I wanna marry you. Better?

Jon: yeah:)

[drabbles-mc]

Sometime Around Midnight

Ezekiel Reyes x Reader

Request by Anon:  I have a request (feel free to ignore). I’ve been recently listening to that song “Sometime Around Midnight” by Airborne Toxic Event, and basically I think a fic based around those lyrics would fit ANY Mayan. I’d love to see someone give it a go :)

Warnings: language, angst, alcohol & smoking, EZ being a Sad Boy

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I’ve been sitting on this request for a little while now. I was trying to figure out which of our boys I wanted to write it for, but then when I started drafting it for EZ this sorta just fell out of me haha. It doesn’t follow the song exactly, but I hope you like it nonetheless! Enjoy some angst for the Boy Scout xo

EZ Taglist: @ly--canthrope​ @noz4a2​ @queenbeered​ @sincerelyasomebody​ @sadeyesgf​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @appropriate-writers-name​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @sillygoose6969​ @louisianalady​ @gemini0410​ @paintballkid711​ @chibsytelford​ @yourwonkywriter​ @sesamepancakes​ @mayans-sauce​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @plentyoffandoms​ @georgiaaintnopeach​ @twistnet​ @amandinesblogofstuff​ @garbinge​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @enjoy-the-destruction​ @encounterthepast​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @rosieposie0624​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @mijop​ (If you want to be tagged in any of my stuff or stuff for specific characters lemme know!)

They had warned you that it was a bad idea to get involved with any of the guys when you started working at the clubhouse as the new bartender. It had been a playful warning, but a very truthful one. And you hadn’t planned on crossing the lines of professionalism. You’d worked as a waitress and a bartender in what felt like a million different places, and you never had an issue when it came to keeping your personal and professional life separate. Don’t get involved with coworkers, and don’t get involved with the regular patrons. Working at the clubhouse meant that the guys from the MC fell into both categories simultaneously. Which you would’ve thought would make it easier to keep yourself from getting involved with any of them.

Yet somehow you found yourself making one little exception after another when it came to Ezekiel. There was just something about him that was hard to say no to. On top of the fact that you could stare at him all day and night without getting bored, there was something in the way that he spoke and smiled that made you feel safe. So you found yourself staying after everyone else had long since gone home to share one last beer with him. Letting him take you home on his bike turned into letting him come inside for a few minutes, which eventually turned into letting him stay the night. It all snowballed and you could’ve stopped it, but you didn’t want to. You knew it was a bad idea but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. Both of you agreed to that. Neither of you were really in a place in life where you were up for intense commitment. It should’ve been fine. But, despite the fact that it wasn’t supposed to be serious, there was something in you that couldn’t handle the way that he would still get strung out over his ex. You knew that pretty much everyone had that one person that was more difficult to get over than the rest, you just didn’t think that EZ’s was going to be someone who was still in his life so frequently. You knew that you had no right to be jealous, after all it wasn’t like the two of you were boyfriend and girlfriend, but it was still something that you couldn’t stomach. So you cut the cord. It hurt, and you didn’t really want to do it, but you knew that for the sake of your own sanity you had to.

That was two months ago. And in the span of that two months, you never came to the bar on nights that you weren’t working. You didn’t want to make it awkward for yourself, or for Ezekiel, or for anyone else, for that matter. But things felt like they were getting back to some kind of normalcy. So, when Bishop told you that he was going to have someone else work the bar when a couple other charters came to town, but that you should still come and have a good time, you figured there wasn’t going to be a better opportunity to feel out the situation.

You walked through the doors of the clubhouse to the party already being in full swing. You smiled at the sight of so many people enjoying themselves in one spot. There were a lot of faces that you had become familiar with in your time working the bar there, but there were some new ones too. Carefully maneuvering your way through people to get to the bar, you smiled at the young man that was doling out drinks as fast as he could.

“A beer when you get a chance, Ricky,” you said with a laugh.

He looked over at you, eyebrows raising when he realized it was you, “Shit, Y/N. Not used to seeing you on that side of the bar,” he chuckled, “Or seeing you all prettied up.”

You laughed as you snatched the bottle away from him, “Very funny.”

“Nah, I mean it. You look good.”

You smiled and took a sip of your beer, “Thank you.”

As you were scanning the room, Bishop appeared in front of you. There was a soft smile on his face as he pulled you into a hug, “Glad you came, sweetheart.”

You smiled as your cheek rested against his kutte for a moment, “Thanks for the invite,” you paused, “You sure it’s alright that I’m here?”

There was no hesitation as he nodded, “Of course. This is your bar, too.”

That was the last comment either of you made about it as you strayed to other topics. You had him tell you about some of the people that you didn’t know—the faces that you didn’t quite recognize. He was more than happy to dish out whatever details you wanted to know, enjoying that you wanted to know as much as you could about the people that came in and out of the clubhouse.

When he got flagged down into another conversation, he left you with a gentle kiss on your temple before slipping off into a new cluster of people. You leaned back against the bar, happy to just listen to the music and watch the party continue to unfold into the controlled chaos that it always was.

You were just about to ask Ricky for another beer when a young man appeared on the stool next to yours. You could feel his eyes on you and you looked over at him with a smile. His patch said Oakland and you instantly ran through what you could remember of their roster as you tried to put a name to his face.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked with a smile.

You nodded, turning your body so that you were facing him, “Sure can,” you glanced over at your friend, “Another beer, please, Ricky. Put it on this guy’s tab,” you gestured to the biker sitting next to you with a laugh.

He laughed as he held out his hand to introduce himself, “Manny. Name’s Manny.”

You chuckled as you shook his hand, “Nice to meet you, Manny. I’m Y/N,” you scanned him up and down, “I haven’t met you before, have I?”

He shook his head, “No ma’am. Just transferred from Spokane.”

“Ah,” you nodded, “that’s why I don’t recognize you.”

“You know everyone else down here?”

“Almost,” you laughed.

The two of you sat at the bar and talked. You hadn’t expected to get so wrapped up in conversation with him, but it was a welcome surprise. He seemed sweet, funny. You noticed the way that he was slowly but surely leaning in closer the longer the two of you talked. You pretended that you didn’t notice, soaking up the attention while you could have it. In another day or so he’d be gone and you’d be left to your own devices again. Besides, it was nice to feel wanted.

Manny was halfway through a sentence when he stopped, seeing someone behind you. A grin broke out across his face as he stood up and walked over to whoever it was. You turned to see Ezekiel standing there. He greeted his MC brother with a hug, but his eyes were glued on you the whole time.

“’Sup, Reyes? Was wondering if I was gonna see you around here tonight,” he chuckled, blissfully unaware of the tension.

“I’m never far,” he looked back and forth between the two of you before his eyes settled on Manny, “Mind if I steal Y/N for a minute? Gotta talk to her about something.”

He nodded, stepping back out of the way, “Sure thing,” he turned to you and flashed a smile, “You know where to find me if you wanna put another drink on my tab.”

You laughed and nodded, “Thank you.”

EZ waved for you to follow him and the two of you made your way out of the intensity of the clubhouse and out onto the deck. The air felt a little more breathable. This was the first time the two of you had any one-one-one time in months, and you weren’t sure what to make of it.

“So,” you sipped on your drink as you leaned back against the railing, “how’ve you been?”

EZ nodded, and you could see it in his eyes that there were a million thoughts running through his mind, “I’ve been alright. You?”

You shrugged, “Pretty good. Can’t complain,” you paused, “What’d you wanna talk about?”

The words got caught in his throat. When he’d seen the way you were talking and laughing with Manny, he felt a sliver of what it must’ve been like for you when he would come to you torn up about Emily. He knew that he had no right to be jealous, and for the entire night he was fighting the urge to go up and say something to you, to Manny, but his willpower finally wore out.

You stepped in closer and you gently rested one hand on his arm, “Hey, you good?”

Everything about you in that moment was distracting. He couldn’t look into your eyes without being hit with an onslaught of memories. The warmth radiating from your touch, and the wave of perfume that gently washed over him as you stepped in nearly knocked him off his feet. Every single memory of you that he tried not to think about, that he tried not to replay over and over again, hit him like a freight train.

He shut his eyes and shook his head, “I’m fine.”

You cocked one eyebrow, knowing him too well to believe what he was saying to you, “You sure?”

“I miss you,” he said, not able to look you in the eye as he did.

You couldn’t help but to let out a hollow laugh as you shook your head, “Do you really? Or did you just not like seeing me talk to someone else?”

He pressed his lips into a line, knowing that you could easily see through him. He sighed, “He’s not gon—”

You cut him off, “Don’t,” your tone was kind, but still firm, “EZ, I think it’s probably better for the both of us if you don’t finish that sentence. I don’t say shit to you when I see you with Vicki’s girls all over you, right?”

“That’s not the same as a patch talking to you.”

“So that gives you the right to stick your nose into it?”

He knew it was a losing argument. He really didn’t know where he thought the discussion was going to go. Every logical bone in his body had been telling him to not bother walking up to you in the first place, but he did anyway. And now he was paying for it.

“I wanna be friends with you, Ezekiel,” you told him honestly, “So when you’re ready for that, let me know. But I don’t think you are yet,” you stepped in and gave him a quick hug, “Enjoy the party.”

You walked back inside, and took a deep breath as the door shut behind you. You walked over to the bar and got another beer before locating Manny again, eager to pick up where you had left off. You sauntered over to where he was sitting on the couch, letting out a laugh as he pulled you down onto his lap. You lazily draped one arm around his shoulder as you let yourself get roped into the conversation that they were having.

You had never been the kind of person to go out of your way to try and make someone else feel jealous. That wasn’t what this was about. However, you couldn’t deny the fact that seeing that pang of envy present in EZ’s face as he walked in and saw you draped over someone from a different charter, it felt good. You knew that beautiful mind of his was replaying the nights when the two of you had been in very much the same position, and how he cost it all for himself.

Despite the fact that it was starting to creep into the small hours of the morning, the clubhouse was far from empty. That wasn’t particularly unusual, but you just wanted to be home, in a room that wasn’t weighted with the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke. However, the warmth emanating from Manny’s hand resting lightly on your thigh wasn’t something you really wanted to give up just yet.

You leaned in a little closer to his ear, “How attached to this party are you?”

He chuckled, looking you in the eye, “What’s your offer?”

“I’ve got beer at my place that won’t make you keep running up your tab,” you trailed your nails lightly along the back of his neck.

“In that case,” he laughed as he tried to play off the fact that you had just sent a chill through his entire body, “I’m not attached to this party at all.”

You laughed as you hopped up off his lap, holding your hand out to pull him off the couch. He let you tug him along towards the door with a smile, trying to toss money onto the surface of the bar to cover his tab before leaving. Ricky let out a whistle and a laugh as you made your way towards the door and you couldn’t help but to shake your head.

The two of you walked down the steps of the clubhouse and Manny looked over at you, a smirk on his face, “You up for a ride?” he paused, “On the bike, I mean.”

You chuckled, nodding as you followed him, “I think so.”

He handed over his helmet with a smile, and you let him adjust it for you as you explained the way to get to your place. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see EZ standing on the deck, eyes glued to the scene unfolding in front of him. You tried not to let your eyes linger on him for too long. Before you knew it, you were hooking your leg over the back of Manny’s bike and wrapping your arms around his waist, settling against him as he pulled out of the lot.

EZ could still hear the rumble of the motorcycle as he took off down the steps to head towards his trailer. Angel had watched the entire scene play out and he went after his brother who he knew was about to do something undoubtedly stupid.

“Yo, Boy Scout, where you going?”

“She can’t just fucking…” his voice trailed off, not knowing how to end the sentence as his feet slowed to a stop.

“You gotta let that shit go, ‘mano,” Angel caught up to him.

EZ heard what his brother was saying, but he was too busy reliving every night that the two of you had peeled out of the clubhouse just like that. The thought of you having those moments with someone else knocked the wind out of him. He thought about how things unraveled, about how you had let him go because he wasn’t strong enough to do it himself. He knew he had no right to feel like he should be chasing after you, but he still wanted to. There was nothing more for either of you to say, but watching you ride off like that with someone else left a knot in his stomach.

“EZ,” Angel piped up again, clapping him on the back, “C’mon. There’s nothing for you out here right now. Let’s just go back inside.”

EZ let his brother drag him back to the clubhouse, back into the midst of the chaos. It felt emptier now, though. He wondered if that feeling would ever subside, if he would ever be able to fix what he’d broken.

[babybluebex]

it takes two [peter parker]

➽ pairing: peter parker x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 3.0k ➽ summary: an accidental discovery leads peter and you to discuss poly-nylons, tony stark, and aunt may’s burnt meatloaf.   ➽ warnings: awkward teenage feels, fluff, all that good stuff ➽ a/n: nerdy little peter melts my heart uwu. enjoy!

“Hey, Y/N. Y/N!”

I turned to see Peter fumbling with his books, and I extended my arms to catch them. “Hey, Pete,” I chuckled. I looked at one of the books in my hand and saw the official autobiography of tech giant Tony Stark, and I laughed. “We get it, man, you’re in love with Tony Stark.” 

“I’m not,” Peter said quickly. “Just wanna read up on my boss.” 

“Right,” I said with a click of my tongue. “The whole internship thing. That seems like a pretty sweet gig, Pete.”

“It’s…” Peter began and nodded. “It’s alright.”

“What do you actually do?” I asked, placing the biography of Peter’s one true love back on his stack of books. “Do you do paperwork? Or Mr. Stark’s laundry?”

That elicited a laugh out of Peter. Peter Parker and I had been friends for a while, since we were lab partners in eighth grade biology, and I had been one of the first people he told about the internship. As excited as he was to get it, though, he never really talked too much about it. “I do…” He began. “Um… Stuff.”

“Well, yeah, that’s what I’m asking,” I said, shouldering my backpack. “What kinda stuff?” 

“This and that,” Peter shrugged. “Sorta whatever needs to be done.” 

I nodded slowly. “Uh-huh,” I responded. “Well, since you’re not gonna tell me, I’ll tell you some big news.”

“Sure,” Peter said. “What is it?”

“I got an interview for MIT,” I grinned, and joy overcame Peter’s face. His arms instinctually went out to hug me, but his stack of books went tumbling to the ground around us. He paid it no mind and hugged me tightly anyway, rocking us as he embraced me. Peter gave amazing hugs; that’s one thing nearly everyone can agree on. 

“That’s awesome, Y/N!” Peter exclaimed. “When is it?”

“Friday evening,” I said. “And I’m freaking out really bad. Do you think you could help me prep?”

Peter had already bent down and begun to retrieve his books. “Why me?” He asked. “A-Ask Flash, he’s on the debate team.” 

“Because I don’t want to ask Flash,” I sighed. “I want to ask you. God, Pete, you got an internship with Stark Industries! Why wouldn’t I ask for your help with interviews? I mean, I assume there was an interview process…” 

“Um, sorta,” Peter said. “Yeah, yep, there was.”

My eyes narrowed. “What was that turn around?” I asked. “‘Sorta’ an interview, but also yes?” 

“It wasn’t a, uh, a typical interview,” Peter said. “I met Mr. Stark’s head of security before him.” 

“Wait, hold on!” I cried. “You’ve met Tony Stark?” 

“I told you about this!” Peter smiled. “We went on that company retreat!”

“Th-The one to Berlin?” I asked. “You met Tony freaking Stark in Berlin? How’d I not know this, Peter?”

“I remember telling you,” Peter said. “I missed those days, and I texted you asking about homework, and you told me we had a test and asked how the retreat was, and I said that it was awesome and I met Tony Stark.”

“I don’t remember that,” I said. “But come on, Petey! Please help me prep for this interview, MIT is my dream school!” I grasped his arm and pouted at him, and I said, “For me?” 

Peter rolled his eyes jokingly. “Sure,” He said with a smile, as sincere as always. “Just come by tonight, I’ll get Aunt May to order a pizza or something and we’ll work it out.” 

I hugged Peter tightly. “Thank you!” I giggled. “Hey, save me a seat at lunch, yeah?” 

“Umm, Ned’s brought a few pieces of his Death Star,” Peter began. “It might take up a lot of space.”

“I’ll help,” I said. “If you don’t mind, that is.” 

“S-Sure,” Peter said, the tips of his ears turning pink. “We could use your smaller hands for some of the more intricate parts of the build.” 

“Great,” I said as the bell rang long and high for classes to start. “Crap. I’ll see ya, Pete!” 

The day passed as slowly as any normal school day would. I didn’t have a math club meeting that afternoon on account of our faculty sponsor being sick, so I was able to go home before I went to Peter’s. I gathered all of my MIT stuff from my desk and shoved it into my bag, and I opened my computer for a minute before my mom inevitably made me come to the living room. Twitter was already open (I didn’t pay great attention during last period physics), and I clicked around the trending page for a moment before seeing, at the very bottom of the list of trending topics, something called the “Man-Spider”. It wasn’t being talked about too much, but it was a trending topic in my area; knowing that someone would probably ask about it at school tomorrow, I clicked on it. 

It was a shaky phone video of a man in a blue and red suit on the rooftop of a building that was adjacent to the videographer. “Hey, you’re that Man-Spider from YouTube!” the videographer yelled. 

“Call me Spiderman!” The suited man replied back, his voice echoing around the street. 

“Okay! Do a flip, Spiderman!” 

The so-called Spiderman flipped backwards, eliciting a whoop from the videographer. The video ended there, and I huffed out a quiet laugh. Peter was really into gymnastics; he would like this video. I tagged him, @pparker101, figuring that he would watch it before I got to his place. 

When I finally got myself up and made my way across the borough to Peter and his Aunt May’s apartment, May answered the door. She was a tall and thin woman with long hair that she usually pulled up, and she smiled when she saw me. “Aw, hey, Miss Y/N,” May said. “What’s going on?”

“Peter’s helping me with an interview thing tonight,” I said. “Is that alright?” 

“Oh, sweetheart, of course,” May said, waving her hand around. “Where are you interviewing?” 

“MIT,” I replied. “The actual interview is on Friday, but, since he’s got that internship with Stark Industries, I figured he would help me prepare.” 

“Oh, good job,” May said. “Yeah, Pete popped out to get a sandwich, but you’re welcome to wait for him. Are you hungry? I’m making meatloaf.”

I had known May for long enough to know that it was safest to skip out on the meatloaf. “Oh, I’m alright,” I told her. “I ate before I came.” 

“If you change your mind…” May sang and scrunched her nose at me as she smiled. “Pete said that you helped him and Ned with their Death Star build today; how was that?”

“Pretty great,” I smiled. “It was a lot of pieces and we’re not finished yet, but all working together was pretty sweet.” 

“I bet,” May replied. “All of you are so smart, I could never do that, even with instructions.” 

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out to see Peter replying to me on Twitter with a simple :). “Thanks, May,” I said. “Um, I think I’m gonna go set up in Peter’s room.”

“Alright, Miss Y/N,” May said and gave me a quick hug. “Have fun.” 

Peter’s room was messy as always, discarded projects all over the place, and laundry piled in the corner of his bottom bunk. I sat down on the edge of the bottom bunk and started to extract my papers and things to practice, but there was a weird sound from behind me. It was quiet and I almost missed it, but the cool breeze that hit my shoulder helped alert me to the fact that the window was open. I turned over my shoulder, expecting to see the widow accidentally unlatched and opening, but instead I saw something completely different: my best friend crawling on the ceiling. 

I couldn’t form words. I wasn’t convinced that I was actually seeing what was happening. Peter was attached upside down to his ceiling, wearing a weird onesie-looking outfit with alternating red and blue panels. He was quiet as he crawled to the other side of the room, and he extended his hand, his middle two fingers and thumb folded into his palm, and a string of white shot from his wrist and attached to the corner of the door. Peter tugged the door closed with ease, as if he had done it before, then he expertly flipped from the ceiling and landed on the carpet with the grace of an Olympic gymnast. His back was to me, but, now that I saw him better, I saw that he wore the exact same outfit that the Man-Spider wore in the Twitter video. 

“Holy shit, are you the Man-Spider?” I cried, and Peter flinched. He turned to me, his face stricken with panic, and I saw a black arachnid symbol in the middle of his chest. “You are! Holy shit, Peter--” 

“Dude, shut up!” Peter hissed quickly. His hand came up to his chest and he pressed on the spider symbol, and the tight suit loosened and fell off of his body. “I-I’m not the Man-Spider--”

“Spiderman!” I recalled from the video. “Peter, what the actual fuck--” 

“Shut up!” Peter pleaded, rushing to me and pressing his hand against my mouth. He was right on top of me, his chest nearly touching mine with each breath, and his dark eyes were wide at me. “Y/N, you… You can’t tell anyone. Please!” 

I shifted my head in order to remove his hand. “Are you serious…” I began. “You’re Spiderman? Wait, how did this happen? Was it the Stark internship, did Tony Stark do this to you?” 

“I’ll explain everything,” Peter whispered. “Just, you really cannot tell anyone.”

“Does May know?” I asked quickly. 

“Are you kidding me?” Peter scoffed. He reached down and grabbed a shirt and began to dress himself; I had noticed that, after the suit came off, he was only in boxers, but I figured that it was better not to say anything. “If she knew, she’d go ballistic.”

I sighed heavily and sat down on the bed once more. “Make this make sense,” I groaned, pressing my head into my hands. “Did this happen to you? Did you make it happen? Is this a Bruce Banner thing?” 

“No,” Peter said quickly, and he sat down next to me. “Look, it’s a really long story, but the basics are that I was bitten by a radioactive spider and now I can do weird things. Like, things I never was able to do before. I’m really strong now, Y/N, and I just… I can do that.” He said and pointed to the ceiling. “But Tony Stark found out about me somehow and he tapped me to help him in some sort of weird fight with him and Captain America. He made me that suit! It’s really cool!”

“It is!” I said quickly. “So, are you, like, an Avenger now? Is that what the Stark internship is?”

Peter paused for a moment, and his cheeks turned pink. “Yeah, I mean…” He started. “Basically, yeah, I’m an Avenger.” 

“Oh my God,” I laughed. “That’s awesome, Peter! But… Why would you keep this from me?” There was no point disguising the hurt in my voice. That was it, plain and simple. “I thought we told each other everything.” 

“We do,” Peter said. “I just… Mr. Stark told me to keep this a secret. He said that anyone who knew could be in danger. I didn’t want you getting hurt.” 

I chewed the inside of my cheek. The secrecy hurt and it wouldn’t stop for a while, but my excitement overshadowed that. “This is super cool, Peter,” I laughed. “So, the thing you just shot, do you-- Like, does your body make that? Like a spider? Was that a web?” 

“Yeah, it’s a web,” Peter smiled widely. “But my body doesn’t make them. That would be super gross.” 

“Sorta, yeah,” I agreed.

“Nah, it’s, uh,” Peter began and rushed over to the forgotten suit on the floor. “It’s a poly-nylon substance that’s loaded in these web shooters that Mr. Stark made me. They’re super strong and take three hours to fully dissolve. They come out of this shooter that I wear on my wrist.” He lifted up the silver web shooter to show me, and I grinned at it. 

“That’s awesome,” I chuckled. “Wait, does Ned know?”

“No,” Peter said quickly.

“MJ?”

“No.”

“Liz? Betty? Flash?”

“You’re the only one,” Peter reiterated. “Nobody else knows. Mr. Stark, Happy, Pepper, everyone at SHIELD, and you. You’re the only outsider.”

“This is…” I began. “This is really cool, don’t get me wrong, but isn’t it dangerous?” 

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. “I mean… Yeah. Everytime I go on a mission, I’m not really sure if I’m coming back.”

I sighed and rubbed my neck. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Petey,” I started. “But I really don’t like this. The idea of my best friend being an Avenger is super cool, but it’s scary as shit. I can’t lose you, Pete. Nobody gets me like you do, and I don’t know what I’d do if you died and I didn’t know why.” 

Peter was quiet as he came back to sit down next to me, his web shooter still in his hand. He toyed with it for a moment, then placed it in my lap. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what else to tell you. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, Pete, you didn’t do anything wrong,” I said. “You were doing what you were told was right. If anything, Tony Stark needs to apologize to me.”

Peter scoffed. “Good luck with that,” he said. “You’re cool. Ya know that?”

“Me?” I chuckled. “You’re freaking Spiderman, dude! You’re cooler than everyone at Midtown! So, is Peter Parker, like, your alter ego? Like Batman?”

“Batman isn’t real,” Peter said pointedly. 

“The point stands, ass,” I said and shoved his shoulder, eliciting a laugh from him.. “By day, you’re a nerdy high school student and, by night, you’re an Avenger?”

“Sorta,” Peter shrugged sheepishly. “I guess, I mean… Not to brag, but--” 

“Brag away!” I said. 

“I’m supposed to be helping you with your interview,” Peter began. “I think maybe we can table this until later. Yeah?”

“Fine,” I said with a pout. “Let me get my stuff…” 

I turned to retrieve my papers and everything that I had brought, and Peter’s hand returned to my lap to grab the web shooter. The fates, though, decided to throw a wrench into our casual moment, because the ajar door burst open to show May. Before I knew what was happening, Peter had shoved the web shooter down between my thighs in an attempt to quickly hide it, and he pressed his lips to mine. I caught on instantly; his hand between my legs only made sense if we were kissing. It was an easy cover up, something to get May out of the room, and-- honestly-- probably something that May had been suspecting all along. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed and backed out of the room, and Peter gave me a tight grimace. I could almost hear him stuttering out an apology. “Sorry, guys! I didn’t mean to--”

“That’s about my luck, huh?” Peter said loudly and laughed. “It’s-- Ah, shit-- Sorry, May!” 

“No, don’t be sorry,” May said from behind the door. Peter pulled the web shooter from between my legs and grabbed his suit, and he shoved them under the blankets behind me. “Don’t let me interrupt... Whatever that was. Peter, please remember to use a--”

“May, hush!” Peter cried, and I saw genuine embarrassment rise in his cheeks. “We’re not-- We weren’t--” 

“We were just kissing, May!” I said quickly. “Nothing else!” 

“Right,” May said. “Have fun. Meatloaf’s burnt, so, if you guys want something to eat, we can get Thai. Or you two can get Thai and I’ll stay here--” 

“May!” Peter groaned. 

“Right, I’ll leave you two alone,” May said, and Peter and I held our breath until we were sure she wasn’t at the door anymore. 

“God, sorry, Y/N,” Peter mumbled, pushing his hair out of his face. “It’s the only thing I could think of--”

“No big,” I said. “But I’m sure May thinks we’re dating now.” 

“She’s thought that since eighth grade,” Peter said and rolled his eyes. “Now she has ‘proof’.” 

“I mean…” I started. Too late to go back now. “I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t thought of it before.”

“Us dating?” Peter asked. 

“I know you like Liz and MJ, so it’s always been…” I started. “Never mind.” 

“Sure, I like Liz and MJ,” Peter said. “But I like you too. Like, in a different way than I like Liz and MJ.”

“Like, in a girlfriend way?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” Peter said. He was looking down at his lap, obviously abashed and not wanting to look at me. “You’re really funny and smart, and you’re super pretty… Mr. Stark thinks you’re cute too.” 

“Tony Stark knows about me?” I asked. “He thinks I’m cute?”

“N-Not in a creepy way,” Peter said quickly. “When I went to Berlin, I brought a picture of you in my luggage, and Mr. Stark-- Well, Happy found it and he told Mr. Stark, and he said that you were pretty… Encouraged me to ask you out… Gave me… Ahem, pointers on how to ask you out.” 

“Really?” I grinned. This was amusing to find out. Tony Stark knew who I was. That was almost as cool as finding out my best friend was an Avenger. “What’d he say?”

“Some really gross stuff, to be honest,” Peter chuckled. “Nothing I’d ever say to you, not even jokingly. But… Whatever. Anyway. MIT interview--” 

I leaned in towards Peter and kissed him again, and I felt his smile against my lips. He kissed me back, his arms wrapping around me and tugging me close, and, when the kiss broke, I whispered, “So, does Spiderman have a girlfriend?”

“I’m sure he can get one if he wants to,” Peter said. 

“Does he want to?” I asked. 

“Duh!”

[dreamties]

Slashers W/ a Punk S/O

T/W- q*eer is used a few times- in a positive, self affirming kind of way. But I can add other trigger warnings if needed. :)

A/n- Literally no one asked for this, but I wanted to make more HCs like the soft pastel one...so I just went wild and made them. 

I included a little bit of punk culture into this as well, because it’s not just about the fashion, but since there’s such a vast variety within punk culture I mostly stuck with my experiences in the community, and some bits and pieces from documentaries(mostly live footage from “The Decline of Western Civilization”).

Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Norman Bates, Michael Myers

Will make one(s) for Brahms, Amanda, Helen or Daniel if asked

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

so early 90s, the Riot Grrrl movement emerges

bands like Bikini Kill, Bratmobile, Heavens to Betsy or Sleater-Kinney

it’s a very female-powered oriented movement, but I notice that a lot of minorities tend to be drawn to this music and community (LGBT folks, people of color, etc).

both boys, and yourself, being outside of the norm and all (polyamorous relationship, gay/bi) are sort of drawn to it!

and sure there’s a lot of really great queercore/homocore bands, and there’s probably a good LGBT+ punk scene out there somewhere, but in a little town like Woodsboro? Hell no. Sticking with this fem punk movement, while again mostly a space for women in music- it’s the most accepted the three of you have felt outside of you’re relationship. 

you’ve always been pretty into the music, stuff like Dead Kennedys, Black Flag, or the short-lived Germs- but it wasn’t until you stumbled upon Riot Grrrl that you really got into it. 

the music, making zines about local-ish political issues(probably not so much Woodsboro stuff, more Cali in general and neighboring towns) and a few ones with queer themes and hand-drawn illustrations of your partners, and DIYing all your clothes

since you’re so experienced with DIYing your clothes and sewing on patches, you’ve helped repair the Ghostface costumes on numerous occasions. they kind of adore this(Stu is the only one that will- and does, frequently- admit that)

Let’s face it, the three of you do everything together- but you especially enjoy when Stu tags along for thrift dates. 

he’s the more fashionable one, and he makes the whole experience more enjoyable- cracking jokes and just being his all-around goofy self.

Woodsboro is a very little town, so they don’t have much...but they do have a few small stores- usually you’ll make a whole day/date out of it though. driving to the next town or so over, since they have more stores and a better selection, and spending hours looking for cheap, old t-shirts, belts, clothes with funky patterns. heading out for pizza after.

Billy’s more likely to get into the music and everything with you(he’s kinda,, angsty, no offense to him)- will definitely go to shows with you.

just- imagine Billy in ripped jeans. and he’d have like one or two patches sewn on to it- one of them is your all time favorite band, and the other is a band that he found on his own time, and actually really enjoyed.

Stu is dragged along with you guys, you can’t just leave him at home- he’s gonna feel left out and sad. :(

He’s mostly there to keep y’all company- he really likes the energy of the shows though!

the two of them are such a chaotic duo though, so much so that you have definitely been kicked out or banned from a few venues. all for varying reasons. good grief these men can not be tamed.

The Lost Boys

as we all know, these vampires are total punks. so they’re gonna appreciate having a s/o who’s also into that whole scene.

How you meet:

you’re a baby punk, and it’s your first show ever, and you look so nervous. you’re dressed up in pretty plain clothes, a single homemade patch for your favorite band barely hanging to your jacket side(you were mid-way sewing it, when you realized you were gonna be late if you didn’t leave asap).

it’s a few local bands, ones you’d never really heard of really. you look anxious. but when they start playing? you look so unapologetically yourself, you’re so in the moment dancing- it’s completely mesmerizing to the boys. the music isn’t even that good, but you seem to be having the time of your life.

they greet you after the show, and you’re a tiny bit flustered- cause gosh, heck, they saw you. dancing. so embarrassing. 

David is the one that introduces himself and the group, and initiates conversation. Dwayne’s a pretty quiet guy, so he just listens to what you have to say. 

Marko’s pretty excited about you, and initiates in some small conversation, he may have complimented your little patch(Marko- patch jacket KING, complimenting your jacket?? more likely than you’d think) 

and oh, oh- Paul is out there being a total chatty-cathy, and is absolutely bombarding you with questions. like, okay, Paul is pretty talkative, but the other vamps are a little worried that he’s scared you off. and you had seemed so cool :(

you end up pretty engaged in your convo with Paul though, even if all the attention is overwhelming. He ends up snagging a date for the five of you the following week.

once you start hanging out/dating:

y’all just hit it off so well those first few days. they all love how sweet & shy you are- but also how much of a badass punk babe you are.

Marko helps make your patch jacket(collecting ones for bands you enjoy, how to make your own, sewing them on, etc). you probably could have done it w/out his help, but my gosh- you weren’t going to pass up this opportunity. Marko gets really soft around you sometimes, since he doesn’t really do this activity with anyone else, it’s saved for you. 🥺🥺

Dwayne likes listening to you talking about the local scene(outside of the shows you go to- mostly about stuff he can’t attend, protests and meetings during the daylight.)

all of them(especially David) are very protective of you. I mean, generally. but also when you go to shows. they let you do whatever the heck you’re gonna do, but the mere second that someone even thinks about starting shit w/ you?? well, y’know. those vampire instincts kick in.

the four of them obviously share a lot of similar tastes in music- but they all have different favorite bands, & fave parts of the community. which, they can’t even fully participate in,, but it’s okay.

they, individually, introduce their favorite bands to you. and they get it in their head that oh, they said they liked it. they must like it as much as I do. and awkwardly coming out to the four of them, as they argue about your favorite band, “Well, actually- this *insert band they’ve never heard of or barely listen to* is my favorite.” and their just kinda like, oh, okay. please tell us more about them. 

so it’s sorta like,, you’ve been learning all this cool knowledge from them, now you get to share cool knowledge with them.

idk. I think it’s cute. 💕

Norman Bates

so first off- let’s just pretend Psycho was in at least the 70s/80s for a moment. because realistically- the punk subculture didn’t really exist back then.

baby boy is absolutely fascinated by the way you dress (mother is less thrilled though)

imagine your jacket is getting a bit weathered, and needs some repairs- so he helps you to sew edges closed, and make sure the patches aren’t on too loose, etc

he enjoys hearing your stories of all the past shows you’ve gone to. you always get so excited about them, and he finds that so endearing. But he pretty much leaves the actual punk scene to you because of these stories.

he was already worried from the stories, and made sure you were well prepared for any trouble every time you left for a show.

but one time, you were able to get him to join you. never again though. he was so nervous!

the music was too loud! and he could hardly understand what they were saying- it was so confusing!

you stayed with him most of the night, standing near the back, holding his hand. he’d gently bob his head to the music occasionally. 

but you accidentally found yourself swept into the crowd, but you looked so blissed-out in the moment, that he figured it would be okay for you to dance* over there for a little bit...right?  

*Norman is still unsure if you’d even call that dancing.

Thankfully, nothing bad happened in the mosh pit.

you gotta give him lots of attention and reassurance afterwards though- you almost scared Norman half to death D:

He’s happy enough helping you out and listening to you though- and that’s okay for you, too. you still love each other lots, even if this particular interest doesn’t overlap.

Michael Myers

he thinks you’re outfits are pretty interesting. 

he’s a little worried at first, when you start experimenting with putting things like safety pins in your ears. cause like- that’s not supposed to be in your ear, Y/n, what the fuck

if you make zines at all, Michael really enjoys watching you make the illustrations for them(not that he’ll admit to it though), and helps to find newspaper and magazine clippings to incorporate into the spreads.

you always show michael the final booklet before distributing it

he doesn’t talk a lot, so he doesn’t ask questions- but he often does the little head tilt once you give it to him. since he’s not very privy to current events, and a lot of your zines are political, you spend a lot of time explaining them in depth.

he has no use for any of this knowledge, but he listens on, intently.

Important note:

dear god do not bring this man to concerts and local shows with you.

it is a nightmare, to say the least

Michael is sort of,, emotionless sometimes, doesn’t really care for people at all, and if he does? definitely not in the same way most people do. 

so imagine combining that part of michael, the fact that he’s also a giant stabby man, with super loud, energetic- almost aggressive- sounding music and a bunch of strangers that aren’t respecting any personal boundaries. 

you need to keep him at the back of the venue- lest your local scene may go missing.

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

yknow while this hellsite continues on the whole religion discussion thing, i’d like to jump in on it with my experience particularly with leaving catholic school.

like aside from my angsty pop-punk/emo etc teen phase (which’ll obvs be weaved into story later on) that led me to have different views from the church and aside from the whole sexism thing that i endured over my year 10 formal/junior prom in 2010 and 2011 from staff there….. i found it within myself incredibly hard to leave there… mostly because i’d known literally 1/3 of my year group at catholic school since kindy/kindergarten or some other point in primary school.

this affected my choice to leave and it was quite tumultuous inwardly. knowing the safety and predictably of the people i was with for all those years was a comfort to me. i knew their parents due to parent mixer bbqs that we’d have after mother’s day and father’s day liturgies- although i hated the mother’s day ones mostly, due to personal reasons. but to leave that comfortable place for overly loyal, kinda sorta shy (although everyone who knew me at that school wouldn’t’ve described me as shy bc i was a very loud show off because of drama class 😅) and by year 10, very lonely, highly socially anxious and depressed, teen me was terrifying. it meant losing her friends and stability and she obvs hated that thought. it meant leaving the one one place she ever felt good at something, drama class.

obviously, after she did leave for public school, she visited the catholic school on a few separate occasions, to try and keep the connection “alive” or whatever the fuck she wrote in a fake deep status on her fb (that i now get in my fb memories every year lmao). but it all ended pretty badly, when everyone from that school stopped talking to her once high school finished. no one invited her out. or if people did try to invite her out, like a couple of people did, it always fell through…. and it made her feel like she was just a bad luck charm or whatever other low self esteem talk she was telling herself. there was quite a few moody statuses around that too lmao.

but yeah. leaving catholic school was a massive thing for me back then, because even though i hadn’t gone to church on sunday for literal Y E A R S at that point; i still had a strong pull to that school because i’d known SO MANY kids at that school from primary/elementary/grade etc school, regardless of their year group level. because if there’s one thing catholic school was good at, it was networking 😂. you knew everyone, and everyone knew you. it was safe, it was sound, so i didn’t want to leave.

but once you leave, you lose your friends and what almost felt like an extended family (although they obvs weren’t). but at the same time, i’d grown to hate the safety and almost insularity of the school, because as i mentioned earlier, you felt like you could predict how people would react or behave in class/events etc.

i felt the above distinctly, because as i’ve mentioned plenty on here, from years 7-10 i was a very emotionally demonstrative kid. in some classes (mostly religion and PE when i was bothered to participate) i’d end up in shouting matches with the teacher or other students…. or y’know just have a casual meltdown in the middle of class, which many people saw as “attention seeking” behaviour. i felt watched, i felt ready to snap, and to quote the ever present All Time Low i felt like the bridge lyrics from “therapy” (which was/is quite obviously somewhat partially about the price of fame and hollywood imo- but that went over teen me’s head at the time lmao):

“arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to, they’re better off without you (better off without you). arrogant boy, cause a scene like you’re supposed to, they’ll fall asleep without you; you’re lucky if your memory remains”

like yes. i’ll admit those bridge lyrics being applied to this time is rather overdramatic, in hindsight, but hey. that was teen me for ya lmao. and don’t even get me started on applying ATL’s song “sick little games” to this at the time as well 😂😅. anyway. from all the “lms and i’ll tell you what i like about you” trend statuses that people were doing back then on fb, i’d gained the tag of “cool/chill girl”, my crush rich boy, once called me “outrageous” because of how loud i was and how willing in years 7-9 to scream out stupid song lyrics like “i want to fuck dog in the ass” by blink 182, fight song by marilyn manson and then idek probably my humps by black eyed peas at the top my lungs through the very few halls that that school had 😂😅. i was being purposely and annoyingly offensive most of the time.

but eventually, once it came to things like one of the girls in my group wanting to run for vice school captain and the other girls in my group A L W A Y S being given leadership positions (LPs)….. while i always had to apparently “repent” my behaviour by being made (in theory from my teachers) to sit alone at lunch because of my “embarrassing” and “unseemly” behaviour at the so-called “training”/ “retreat” days we had for things like being peer support leaders for the new cohort of year 7s etc etc. i felt like everyone was just waiting for me to leave…. and that they couldn’t stand my “embarrassing” presence and that i’d ruin my friends chances of being selected as co-captain or whatever other bullshit LPs they wanted to run for. but still. i felt like i couldn’t leave. just. how do you leave a bunch of people that you’ve known for so long???

and even when my teachers were nice enough to give me a chance in a leadership position once; in that dastardly bullshit internet safety workshop thing that they should’ve literally just hired a professional workshop co. to do….. but to save money they used students in my year group instead. so, instead of being marked by my teachers on this program; i was marked by the catholic education office. they had a lady come in from the ceo to judge/mark us while presenting…… and this lady went off at teen me for “not being professional, responsible and respectful” or whatever the fuck the woman told 15/16yo me…. which teen me then fired back with “i don’t have to be fucking professional and responsible!!!! IM FUCKING 15!!!!”.. so from then on i was never given an LP or any other type of “peer support” role against my friends who were littered with offers for them. mind you, i did call a whole room of 14 year olds “a bunch of cunts” or the like and then stormed out thinking that i’d made a solid point, so the CEO woman had a good reason 😂😅….. again in hindsight.

of course there was also the bitterness of teen me being angry at the english dept for not giving her a spot in the top class of english in her half of the year. but as i’ve said previously on other posts, i’ve forgiven this because i did essentially fail one shakespeare in class assessment in year 8 or year 9 😂. but i strongly felt this during my time at catholic school bc my friends believed that i should’ve been in the top english class too lmao.

but aside from those troubles and foibles, i still found it incredibly hard to leave. to leave the perceived closeness of that group of girls, who would sometimes walk me down to the office and sit with me in “purple room” while i waited for the teacher that had to act as my therapist almost lmao. even though i always told my friends to leave me be and go back to class bc i felt bad about dragging them out of class for so long.

but yeah. with all the above behaviour, the song lyrics to me at the time made sense bc teen me just felt so pressured to fit into the whole “funny, cool, outrageous girl” bs box that people had put her in…. but at the same time she wanted to escape it bc she was just *flyleaf voice* SO SICK of being laughed at instead of laughed with (atl weightless reference here kids) just because… like she DESERVED to be taken seriously for fucks sake, and not a be a “monkey do funny dance” person… she obvs felt this the most in drama class. where in the shakespeare unit, she picked a medley of romeo and juliet and taming of the shrew monologues to do for her monologue. although she nearly did lady macbeth throwing herself off the tower, to be hella edgy…. but she opted not to do that in the end. but she picked serious pieces bc she was sick and tired of being classed as the one trick pony go-to funny person.

okay. this really went off topic. but y’all get the point??? the decision of leaving catholic school was a hell of a ride for little 14-16yo me. it was confusing, terrifying and tied up in years of being overly judged and feeling like people wanted me to leave bc they were sick of me. it was tied up in years of mid-class meltdowns that had become kind of routine for me to have, and that people were just brushing me off as “attention seeking”…. but also ironically waiting for me to snap at any second for another wild shouting match or walkout; which would then make me look like i was “unruly” or “untameable/unmanageable” or whatever the fuck….. but i couldn’t take that anymore, for the final senior years. i HAD to leave it.

again it was hard to leave for loyal little teen me, despite how lonely and isolated she felt. why leave your friends when you’re comfortable??? but also: why stay in this toxic environment where people are just waiting for you to either shut the fuck up and put up with it or just blow up and absolutely lose your shit??? that’s just unhealthy asf. and the only unruly thing that’s happening here is the complete lack of mental health help or management in the aussie education system; but most especially in religious schools.

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

no pressure or anything but if you ended up writing this my little nerdy punk heart would have been eternally grateful 🥺 (and please, please, please, boyband him a little, that hair can't go to waste) love you!!!!!💖 these tags actually made my day so thanks!!!!!!

hello jo, i hope you're doing well!! <3 sorry abt taking a while to get to this ask, i have been a little out of it, and i didn't want to half ass a reply to something as important as a natie themed ask....

this entire concept is 100% on my to-write list!!! i have a lot of thoughts about nate figuring himself out/figuring out who he is away from his family's expectations of him and the ideas people who think they know him have of him (since he's so popular, everyone thinks they know him, he can't escape the reputation that follows him around, etc etc).

in fact, since we're talking about this - i made a list of connected, nate-focused, stuff! and this response got RIDICULOUSLY long. so. 11-point bullet list focusing on nate, here you go!

you might enjoy my natessa fic "out of focus". it's not exactly this, but it is sort of the first time i dip my toe into the pool of.. whatever this concept is. nate lets vanessa buy him a shirt he would never pick out for himself. things go on from there!

i have a lot of thoughts about nate & ruby, specifically. we never actually got to see her, but i think he'd awkwardly gravitate towards her in that way that you do when you're young & queer and you meet an Openly Gay And Comfortable person for the first time. and i think ruby would see this and kind of adopt him/take him under her wing? anyway.

more natefic i am yet to write involves nate coming out to vanessa, vanessa being the first person he comes out to, it's after a lesbian punk concert and he's hyperventilating a bit and he KNOWS v will support him. she has literally shown him in a million ways that she's a good ally to the lgbtq+ community, and vanessa's just like, "what's wrong?" and nate is like. "nothing's wrong, and i really like you, but i'm not - i don't - " and then he says something awkward and stumbles through how he likes men, and vanessa gives him a hug and kisses his cheek and says "thank you for telling me that"

anyway i bring up #2 and #3 just to say that i feel nate has a sort of comfort with the abrams sisters that he doesn't have with anyone else at the time (he will eventually get here with blair and serena too, but in s1? they ALL had their own shit to deal with and i don't think nate was really in a place to open up to them, whereas vanessa & ruby aren't his childhood friends so in that way, it's easier, etc). and i love the thought of like. vanessa bleaching his hair super pale, ruby buying him a hair straighter (and of course he knows how to use it, he's blair waldorf's ex boyfriend what do you expect of him) and just. the abrams sisters - without even realising they're doing it - giving nate a space to explore who he is and specifically, his presentation

so we can either roll with nate being a trans man, which i LOVE, and am trying to write a fic about - OR - and it makes sense here, with these headcanons specifically, i feel like nate would maybe be one of those cis people who's explored their gender identity, realised they're cis, and therefore, is far more in touch with their gender than the average cis person?

connected to THAT, i have a fic in the works in which nate just presents... extremely femme. he goes super flamboyant, dresses in a way that puts himself on everyone's gaydar, etc etc. at first he does it to be like "fuck you" to his family, but after a bit he realises he actually really likes being perceived in that way, as a queer man, as a pretty queer man, and it makes him feel in control & good about himself to be able to do all these stereotypically feminine things WHILE identifying 100% as a man. putting on nail polish and mascara and gloss, wearing very femme things and heels, etc etc, it makes nate feel like himself in a way that he's never really felt before. (he IS a cis man.) dan bumps into nate at a gay bar, doesn't recognise him at first (this is a very au fic, i think they've lost touch since high school ended) and then promptly falls in love with nate AND has a gender identity crisis that goes a bit like "well nate maybe you can do these things and still identify as male but i can't" and it's just... trans dan my beloved.

unconnected to all that, you know what would've been fun? s2 nate is staying with the humphreys arc, and jenny... dyes his hair for him, and designs outfits for him, and basically both of them just. go thru a whole fashion revamp together.

i have a lot of ideas for futurefics in which jenny is like. 18, 19, etc and has a cool new line of men's clothing, but she doesn't have the $$ to hire a professional model for her clothes OR she wants the person modelling the clothes to be someone who Gets her mission statement in designing them (this is better but it could sorta be a combination of both) and essentially she awkwardly asks nate to model lingerie for her. he is like, of course! because i'm me, this doesn't go anywhere romantically, but if a jenate shipper wants to take this idea and run with it, go ahead, just credit me, lmaooo. i will definitely write this fic to centre around nate & jenny both being really gay, which is the other direction altogether, so that doesn't bother me.

since we're speaking about nate in lingerie, this fic of mine's first birthday is coming up in a few days! wow, it's been a whole yEAR.

so, disclaimer, any and all fics that centre around Identity... always take a lot out of me + i always have to be in a very specific headspace to write them (that's why the nonbinary dan series is taking ages, too). so while i really DO wanna write all the nates exploring how they present and, as the kids say, fucking around and finding out, it might be a while!

oh. this reminds me*. i REALLY have to finish writing my demisexual nate fic... it's a tricky thing to write. i have another fic im yet to write about how sleeping with dan makes nate re-evaluate a lot of things, in a very trauma survivor way (like an "oh, this is what it feels like to be with someone who respects me!" kind of way) and that... i want to write it sooo bad but i gotta do the idea justice. life is Hard.

*if anyone is curious about my thought process - “nate fucking around and finding out” ... wait, a bit like.. “nate fucking around and finding out that he doesn’t even like to fuck around, which is what happens in THESE fics i’m writing, let me just,...” etc.

[yukipri]

Marco’s Bauble Part 5 - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

Here’s the next part of Marco’s Bauble!

In which the Whitebeards gossip even more, and the gossip circle widens.

Contains mention of Marco x Luffy.

Continues off of, and should be read after:

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 1

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 2

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble Part 3

👒🐟Marco’s Bauble, Part 4

"Does the meeting have to be in my room?"

Jozu's room feels cramped with six commanders crammed inside. The Commander bedrooms, which double as their offices, aren't exactly spacious. They're still the only crew members who even have their own private quarters, so no one complains. Of the Commander's rooms, Jozu's is the largest, simply to accommodate the fact that Jozu's physical bulk is several times that of any other Commander. So naturally, Jozu's room is where they gather when they need to have the rare Secret Meeting, away from any of Pops's rooms or public spaces that anyone can walk into.

"I don't even know why we're here," Jozu mutters mostly to himself, perched awkwardly on the edge of his own bed. Vista and Rakuyo take up the rest of his mattress, because Izo's commandeered Jozu's desk and chair. Izo's even brought a mirror and makeup kit, and is putting eyeliner on Namur for some reason. Haruta's sitting on the floor by the door, to "keep watch," apparently.

"You can leave if you'd like, it's private anyway," Rakuyo smirks. He's only been let in on the secret because he'd been the one to make up the lie at lunch, announcing loudly that Haruta had actually shouted about marigolds in Izo's new perfume and not Marco. And oh yeah, Vista's allergic to them! Hence the overreaction, of course.

It's a miracle their other brothers bought the honestly bizarre lie, and Rakuyo secretly thinks that they most definitely heard but are bro enough to play along because the other Commanders looked so pathetically desperate for them to pretend it never happened. But well, it worked out for Rakuyo, who was able to corner Izo and Haruta (along with a still very much spooked Vista), to demand answers for so generously providing a coverup, no matter how shoddy.

(Rakuyo can just imagine how the rumor mill is churning right now, now that everyone other than the night shift is crammed into the barracks and lights are out. But ah well, that's not his business, at least until he gets some answers himself.)

Which leads them to now, in a Secret Meeting to reveal all.

Jozu heaves a massive sigh that jostles the other two Commanders taking up his bed, before getting up with a creak. It's very clear that Rakuyo is especially eager to start getting all the dirt or whatever this is about, and perhaps that really isn't something he wants to be a part of.

Jozu doesn't much like being chased out of his own room, but he doesn't really like gossip anyway. Maybe it would be better to step out, and not have to deal with the drama afterwards.

"Maybe I'll go take a walk..." Some fresh night air doesn't sound too bad.

"Yeah, we'll just be talking about Marco's upcoming wedding," Haruta chortles, even as he moves out of the way to let Jozu through.

Jozu freezes. Rakuyo makes a little oooh sound.

Jozu sits back down, and Vista and Rakuyo grunt as the mattress sinks towards their brother's greater mass.

"Wait, since when was it a wedding?" Namur's eyes widen. "I only know about his proposal, not even a formal engagement yet..."

There must be several steps between "proposal" and "wedding," or so Namur thought. But perhaps he's just misunderstanding humans once again.

"Hush, don't move, you'll ruin your eyeliner," Izo scolds, and Namur shuts up, wisely, because everyone knows how Izo feels about ruined eyeliner.

"Wait, wait, wait," Jozu starts, because he's just heard several things in rapid succession that he's failing to process. Jozu prides himself on fast thinking in battle, but it apparently doesn't apply outside of it, which is a problem because he's reeling. But then again, these types of cannonballs aren't shot into his face every day.

Jozu isn't given time, because Rakuyo's hooting like a madman, flailing arms smacking Vista, who has also gone frozen and wide-eyed, and Jozu's glad that at least he's not the only brother who feels lost.

"Alright, let's hear it! Who's the lucky boy?" Rakuyo leans as far forward towards Izo and Namur as he can without his ass leaving the bed.

"Get this," Izo leans in too, just as eager. "Marco's fiancee is a girl."

Jozu chokes, but it goes completely ignored, as does Vista's gasp and dainty hand to his heart, and Rakuyo expelling what seems to be all of the spit in his mouth, all in the face of Haruta bolting to his feet and shrieking "WHAT?!" loud enough to probably be heard on the other side of the Moby.

"Izo..." Namur cringes, and looks distinctively miserable, an expression all the more exaggerated by the dramatic winged liner Izo's put around his eyes.

"It's too late, we're all here, might as well share with just our fellow Commanders no? It's a big occasion for our dearest first mate," Izo says, well over the initial guilt he felt. After all, such a big occasion for their brother is most certainly relevant to their fellow Commanders!

Everyone else in the room makes silent eye contact at Izo and Namur's exchange, immediately understanding what had occurred: Izo had been sworn to secrecy, but had slipped.

Well, they all sympathize. They feel for their poor fishman brother, they've all been in his shoes before.

But they're also all currently in this room, and the secret's been spilled, so at this point...well, what happens in Jozu's room, stays in Jozu's room, no?

And so the story comes out, and multiple other bombs are dropped: that the girl's a mermaid, Marco's never even met her, and she's also Ace's little brother.

"Wow, didn't know he liked them that young, Ace's practically a baby himself," Rakuyo mutters, and gets a sharp jab in the elbows from Vista.

“A mermaid,” Vista breathes, stars in his eyes. “A phoenix with a mermaid, that’s so romantic!”

“Isn’t it?” Namur looks eager for the first time since the meeting started, glad he’s found a kindred soul. “They’ll look so good together…”

Jozu's brain has finally caught up to the situation, but something's not adding up. He makes to raise his hand, but ends up loudly cracking his shoulder against the wall instead, which still does the job of catching his brothers' attentions.

"Wait, but I thought Ace said he couldn't join our crew because he promised to be pirates with his little brother...but if she gets married to Marco and she joins our crew, then...?"

There's a moment of deep contemplative silence.

"Well, there's the chance that Ace doesn't know about his little brother's relationship with Marco," Izo says slowly. "He might not even know that they've been corresponding."

There's a collective wince as they imagine how Ace's reaction to that being revealed might go, if it indeed is a secret. The one thing they know about Ace's little brother is that Ace has a MASSIVE brother complex, and is very, Very protective. They suddenly don’t envy Thatch.

"Do you think Thatch knows?" Vista speaks up. "Is this why he went with Ace?"

"If he didn't know, he knows now, Marco sent the letter and engagement gem to him to deliver," Namur says hesitantly, finally willing to contribute information.

"So let's get this straight, Ace thought he was just going back to East Blue to start a new pirate crew, and Thatch was just tagging along to help, but Thatch was actually sent by Marco to escort his bride back to us? Without Ace knowing? Is that right?" Haruta's eyes are wide and he sounds extremely impressed. "That's so evil of him, I didn't know he had it in him, holy shit!"

"We don't know that," Namur mumbles, but is ignored.

“Do you think Thatch’ll be best man at the wedding?” Vista wonders.

“That’s not fair!” Haruta hisses at the same time Izo shouts, “Favoritism!”

"Okay, okay, wait. So in that case, assuming Ace eventually calms down and supports the union, that means his little brother joins us, right? And if she joins, doesn't that mean Ace would join too? Since she was the only reason why he didn't join us, and he wants to be on the same crew as his brother..." Jozu can't let go of the possibility, now that it's there.

They'd all been terribly sad when Ace announced he was leaving. Their crew all understood why he had to go, a promise is a promise, and they'd still always be brothers but...the 2nd Division Commander seat had practically been waiting for him.

"There's always the chance that they mean to do long distance," Namur says then, glumly.

"That's so boring!" Izo says dismissively. "Marco should take what's his, we're pirates!"

Rakuyo cheers while Namur gasps in indignation, and everyone else sighs, except Vista who suddenly freezes.

"Marco wouldn't...leave us to join them, would he...?"

Well there's a thought.

"...We can't know what the bride thinks, but that we can ask Marco, probably," Jozu says uncertainly. Suddenly this whole "marriage" business is a lot more stressful than expected, because Jozu's not sure he likes the idea of suddenly losing their first mate, no matter how nice his future company is.

"It's not likely, probably, because they're just a baby crew, who already have our brothers as senior members," Haruta reasons. "Far more likely that they'll join us!"

"The 2nd'll be happy to have Ace and Deuce back," Vista nods, focusing on the positives, and the mood lightens considerably. "And we'll be able to have a wedding!"

“A wedding! I love weddings!” Rakuyo cheers. “Drinks all around!”

"Ace'll become our 2nd Division Commander after all," Namur says, and he looks so happy that Izo croons and pokes his cheek.

"Wait," Jozu says, and Izo groans not again. "This may be getting ahead of ourselves but...if Ace is 2nd Division Commander, that puts his room right next to Marco's...isn't that sorta awkward for the newlyweds?"

"Jozu!" Namur looks very scandalized, while Rakuyo and Haruta cackle.

"Maybe Ace'll burn a hole through the wall so they can't have any privacy," Haruta grins.

"That's terrible," Vista says, despite also beginning to smile.

This is nice, imagining what their family's future might be like. It'll no doubt be wild, but a positive change.

"But maybe being close to his brother would make Ace happier too, so maybe the 2nd Division would really be perfect," Izo says contemplatively.

"Question, would Ace's little brother be in the 1st or 2nd Division?" Namur wonders.

Bickering breaks out, but Rakuyo cuts through it. "She's Ace's brother, she might be Commander material herself, who says she'll be in one of their divisions?"

"Commander of Division 1.5," Namur says dreamily.

And oh, well, that wasn't what anyone else had in mind, but the more they think about it, the more it appeals.

"Perfectly in between her husband and brother, our future Commander of Division 1.5," Izo says it out loud, testing how it feels.

"I like it," Haruta shouts, and is echoed by his brothers.

~~

~~

~~

WHELP that took forever to write, but I hope you enjoyed! The next part has Marco :P

The number of Whitebeards keeps increasing! We now have all the main Whitebeards that are usually given attention (Marco, Thatch, Jozu, Vista, Izo, Haruta), and in addition to Namur, I decided I wanted to give Rakuyo some love! I think he looks like a Jack Sparrow rip off so I like him haha. Did anyone catch the reference?

Anyway, still very much figuring out how I want to portray them, but I'm enjoying exploring them in writing, so I'll know how to better depict them in any future art ^ ^;

As always, thank you so much for reading, and any comments are immensely appreciated!! (Comments are what make me decide how frequently to update, because the next parts are already written and up on Patreon <3)

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

Read the next part: Marco’s Bauble, Part 6

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

[jo-the-schmo]

Red, Dead, Reflections Ch. 1

A/N: Alright so... I started writing this fic over a year ago, and was posting it as I wrote it. I fell out of it for a few reasons but I’ve missed it. So I decided to start writing it again. The original versions of the first 5 chapters already exist on my blog but I want to repost them and do some editing. This way I can make the series more polished. I also want to try and do a once a week maybe schedule to give me some time in between writing chapters and so I can take some feedback into consideration.I hope some of the people who originally wanted to keep up with my series see this and I want to apologize for falling back on this. I feel really bad about it. I’ll try harder to commit to this. Thank you so much for being interested in my work. If anyone would like to be tagged just let me know, I don’t wanna assume the people who did before want to now. 

Summary: At the age of 23, you and your pseudo-family perform a heist gone wrong, leading you into a dangerous and seemingly impossible position. Discover your own history, the story of those around you, and gain new relationships along the way in this (sorta) choose your own adventure.

Warnings: Explicit language, blood, death, violence

Word count: 5,988

From Out West

“This is a little too ballsy for my liking, Austin.” You warned as you carefully adjusted the colored contact lenses in your eyes.

“Since when did you turn into a little pussy-willow?” He smirked at you while he turned a corner. 

“This is a bank, not a home robbery, so forgive me if I’m a tad nervous about this! We’re robbing a god damn bank in the 21st century, in a busy city that we aren’t necessarily familiar with!”

“Maybe you aren’t familiar, you know I’m a regular ol’LA boy.” You turned your head to look at the two in the backseat.

“Miguel, you can’t seriously be okay with this.” You questioned but were confident in it enough to make it a statement. He shrugged his shoulders, making that confidence literally evaporate. 

“We gotta trust Austin, as crazy as this plan is. We haven’t gotten caught yet.” You crossed you arms and made sure your wig was pinned right.

“Doesn’t mean we won’t be startin’ now.” You grumbled. 

“Come on, sissy! This plan is fool-proof! They’ll never even know it was us!” Eli chirped. 

“Oh yeah, except for the fact that this is a fucking bank and the FBI CAN get on our asses for this!” You swore it was exhausting being the only realistic one sometimes. “On top of that, there’s only 5 of us! We’re insane!” 

“6.” Austin corrected. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your girlfriend won’t be in the damn room with us.” 

“She’s the ace up our sleeves, it would be silly for her to be in there with us.” The car smelled like old cigarettes, it made you sick. The band around your chest dug into your ribs. You opted to stay silent and relent for the time being, instead focusing on your disguise. The wig was carefully pinned to your real hair, it was short enough to be confused for a men’s haircut but had enough length to not require any glue. Dark brown hair, abnormally vibrant green eyes. And with the mask covering your face, that would be their only descriptions they could give to the police. Flat chest, boyish haircut, baggy black hoodie, just your average deviant. The destination was in view. 

“Alright,” Austin started. “everyone knows the plan, yeah? Gina is inside, she’ll send us the signal. We go in quick and make our presence known. I go behind the counter to make sure the tellers ain’t up to no funny shit. Miguel, you round up the lovely citizens into a corner, hit Gina a little to make it convincing. Eli, you take care of the money. And Y/N, I need you to stay in character, be loud and intimidating, keep the tellers in check when I’m helpin’ Eli, and the civils with Miguel, got it?” You all nodded. He looked back at Miguel. “You got the fake bomb ready?”

“Yes’ir.” 

“I’ll pass the big boss to you once I pick him out. Zoe is waiting for us in the alleyway between the bank and the office building. We get in, make some noise, scare them shitless, get the money, and go.” He parked up front of the white walls, you saw a mother walk through the glass doors with her toddler in a stroller. You immediately felt bad. 

“You promise this is the last job, right?” You looked at him seriously. “At least the last of something this big, I don’t think I could handle with again.”

“Of course! This is just to get us enough money to get us all out. The economy is garbage, think of it as taking what should already be ours.” You heard the crackle of the walkie on Austin’s lap. He threw it into his bag. “That’s the signal, masks on everyone.” Austin’s was a fox, long, fake salt and pepper hair rolled form under his hood. Eli’s was a raccoon, convincing copper bangs swooped between the ears. Miguel had an owl; disturbing blue eyes pierced your being. You strapped on your black dove and joined with group as they exited the stolen vehicle. You kept both your hands in the front pocket of your hoodie, trying to be discrete about the two handguns inside. Only one was loaded with real bullets, that was the backup, You preferred to use the blanks. Unable to trace, and when used properly, won’t hurt anyone. Austin and Eli took the leads. 

The doors were kicked in. 

“EVERYONE GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND RIGHT NOW! HANDS UP, ALL YOU! THIS IS A ROBBERY!” He screamed, pointing his gun at a man behind the counter about 3 yards away. Miguel was quick to shout at the people in line to get into the corner of the room. Gina pretended to try and defy, he slaps her, needless to say it’s convincing. 

“Dove, handle the worms.” You traded spots as Austin grabbed one of the men behind the counter. Your eyes locked with the poor woman, she was covering the stroller with her torso. You pointed your blank gun at some random person. 

“Stay on the ground or I’ll fucking shoot, ya hear me?” You lowered your voice, made it coarser, time to be a ‘man’. They nodded hysterically. The woman was crying. You could hear Eli screaming his demands in a fake accent. “Everyone hand over your phones. If any of you give me a reason to even SUSPECT you’re up to anything, I will shoot.” Everyone put their phones on the ground and slid them over toward you. You turned your attention to the back. “What’s the hold up, owl?” 

“I’m handling it.” He strapped the fake bomb to the teller’s chest, making him kneel down in the middle of the bank. “Listen up, everyone! This man has a bomb attached to his body. We have someone hacked into the security cameras. If you don’t follow our instructions to the T, they will blow a hole in this lot.” He paused to let the cries and gasps die out. “Now, for those said instructions, listen close. We will exit the building soon, you will stay down for 5 minutes.” He pointed at a clock on the wall. “Do not touch anything or move a muscle. When 5 minutes have passed, the big guy here-“ He patted the man’s shoulders and dropped a key wrapped in tissue in his lap. “will take a little drive off the premises. He will keep going until he reaches the designated location written on that tissue. If any of you contact the police before the end of the day, he will die, along with any other drivers in his vicinity. So, unless you want a substantial amount of blood on your hands, I’d suggest you keep quiet until midnight. As for the rest of you, you have permission to leave the building once that 5 minutes are up. But I would suggest keeping a low profile, for your safety and others’.” There was a loud crack. 

“I got it!” The phony Australian accent rang. Austin led the rest of the bank tellers to you, making them sit in the flood of civils. 

“Staying alert, Dove?”

“Don’t patronize me, stupid Fox.” This whole situation pissed you off. The baby was crying, mom was too, trying to hush the whines. 

“Fire a shot, Dove!” What? “Don’t let their insubordination stand.” He demanded. This was a fear tactic. He was trying to teach a lesson to the others. 

“I’m not firing a warning shot over a fucking baby, you psycho!” Your blood was boiling, this was overkill, he was way out of line with this. Of course, he wasn’t telling you to shoot the baby or the mother, but you weren’t going to cause more grief where it didn’t need to be. 

“Take the shot!”

“Fuck you!” 

“Why are you going against me?” Was he seriously doing this now? You felt like your head was going to explode. She was the only person with a child present. You put both of your pieces back in your hoodie and knelt next to her. She flinched as you approached, but that was to be expected. 

“Ma’am, I’m making an exception for you because you have a child with you, and that prick is really getting on my last nerve. You’re allowed to exit the building now, but the other rules still apply. People will die if you talk, maybe not you, but other people who have children like you do, most certainly. Take your kid and get out, don’t do anything out of the ordinary, and get out.” Her red eyes shook you to your core, familiarity. She nodded in both fear and appreciation. 

“Than-than-thank y-“ She was choking on her own misfortune, you decided to spare her. 

“Yeah, yeah, just get out.” She got up and collected herself, checking around the room as she walked out of the building. You could only see his eyes, but you could tell Austin was reaching his limit fast. An older gentleman stared at you. 

“At least one of you has a heart.” You were glad Austin was too focused on being pissed to hear that. You got up, kicking the phones toward the door as you walked. Austin grabbed you arm. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill her for that.” By letting that woman go, you showed weakness. It was a hint at your identities, but you didn’t care. 

“And you’re lucky I’m not shooting you for saying that. I’m not a killer like you, Fox.” Your voice was laced with venom. Eli had interrupted your dispute. 

“Alright lovebirds, time to play nice, we’ve got precious cargo.” He gave both of you a duffle bag, they were pretty hefty. Austin took a deep breath, putting on his best showman voice. 

“Alright folks! That right there is our cue to hit the road. Remember, 5 minutes on the clock. No one likes a-“ The doors were filled with red and blue, sirens. The police were here. “Shit!” Shit was right. “How the hell are they here?” Austin screamed. He gave you a shove. “It’s probably because of that god damn woman!” 

“There’s no way she would’ve had enough time for that.”

“And no one had a phone out, I was watching the whole time.” Miguel chimed. 

“We have bigger fish to fry right now! We gotta go.” You all dashed over to the back door, all you had to do was move towards the alley, if you could just get to the dump van, everything would be fine. Drive up to get the real car, leave that one with no prints or hair, and you’d be home free. The 4 of you booked it out the door. But the van was no where to be seen, instead, there were about 3 cops on either side which was 6 in total, trapping you in. 

“They must’ve got Zoe!” Yeah, no shit. 

“Put your hands up!” You all raised your arms, except of course for Austin. You kicked his calf. He didn’t budge. “I said put your god damn hands up!”

“In case you didn’t notice, pal, there’s a bomb in that building. If you don’t let us pass, I’ll blow that building out of existence, along with the man attached to it.” He pointed his gun to one of the cops to your left. “So, I suggest you let us through, or else you’re gonna piss me off more than I already am.” 

“We know the bomb is fake, drop to your knees or we will shoot!” Another one barked. Someone had ratted you out. You looked at Miguel and Eli, you weren’t letting this go down, not by a long shot. You tuned out Austin’s ramblings and whispered to the other two. 

“Be ready to run. I’m gonna buy you guys some time. Don’t kill any of them, disarm them.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?” Miguel questioned with panic. You took a deep breath. 

“Thank you for being my family.” You swept your leg behind Austin’s knees, and he collapsed to the ground as you stood. 

The world slowed to a crawl, pulling a gun out of your pocket, these were real bullets. You’ve never missed a target. You drew the attention of all 6 police officers, but no amount of training could prepare them. You fired 3 shots, each one hitting the hands of the officers Austin had been talking to. Their weapons fell from their hands. You felt bodies push past your legs, down the alley way away from the bank. You were glad the streets of LA were confusing. Now was the time. You whipped your body around to face the rest of the officers, firing rapidly at their shins. You weren’t gonna put blood on your hands. 

But deep down you knew, there was no making out of this one. You would buy them a few minutes while trying to subdue you. Just as your haphazard shots began, they fired precise ones of their own. Two passed through your skull, three in your chest, and one got a through almost half of your jugular. Both pieces fell away from you as gravity swaddled you. Bits of your wooden mask, blood, head pushing back unnaturally, seeing the backs of your made family run, they were almost home free. There was no pain after that point, you waited patiently for your back to hit the ground beneath you, but it never did. You kept falling. 

And falling. 

The midday light felt like it was slipping away, there were leather walls encompassing your lifeless form. No sound, no sense of texture, just the smell of dirt and decay. Then there was nothing but darkness, but that void that beckoned you, that pulled at your very being, was gone just as quick as it appeared. 

Your body shot forward with a violent intake for air. The gasps filled your lungs to the brim, your chest and head ached, throat tight. The coughing erupted from deep in your chest, which also held a different pain from the ever-tightening band around it. You threw you hoodie away and made quick work of loosening it just a bit, and in doing so noticed that your body was free of any physical wounds. There was still a soreness, and blood wiped off your skin, but there were no open wounds. You were incredibly cold, and at first you assumed that to be attributed to your near-death experience, until you looked up high to see to see an open window with snow falling outside. 

“I don’t think we’re in California anymore.” You muttered to yourself. You shivered, the place was covered in hay and in low light, that’s when the smell hit you. It reeked of animals, that would probably have something to do with the fact that you’re in a barn. Shakily, you got to your feet. Knees wobbling, your eyes adjusted, there were horses. That certainly explained the stench. A chill ran up your spine, the cold tickling at your vertebrae. You scanned the room for where you had tossed your hoodie, only to find it in a horse’s mouth. Your eyes widened in fear. “No, no, no, no, no, no!” You exclaimed. You rushed forward and grasped at the hanging sleeve, tugging on it with all your strength. “Drop it! Drop it right now!” 

The horse did not listen, in fact, now it seemed more hellbent on consuming the thick material. After hurtling a few curses at the horse, you heard a distinct rip. You fell back, the remnants of black cloth now in tatters. You let out a muffled scream of frustration. Even with the long sleeves of your cotton shirt, you were still freezing. It suddenly struck you how odd it is for it to be snowing at all. You figured you weren’t in California anymore, but you were somewhere that snows in the middle of May? How far were you? You couldn’t think of any states that snowed this late in the year. Were you in Maine? Up north, Canada? How did you even get here? 

“Did those idiots come back to get me? I could’ve sworn…” You could’ve sworn they ran like you told them to, and that you had experienced several fatal injuries. Is this hell? Purgatory? The other side? It was cold enough to be Hell that’s for sure. Nothing made sense. You found your mask on the ground, chunks of the painted wood were replaced with vacant space, splintered bullet holes. You fastened it to the first belt loop, it rested against your left pant leg. Pins dug into your scalp, wigs still surprisingly attached to your head. Your eyes watered, your contacts were drying out. You opted take them out now rather than waste your time trying to find drops in a barn. You flicked them away once they were out. “Now, if there’s a barn with animals, there’s gotta be a house with people.” You walked over to the large wooden doors as your talked to yourself, but today just had to be the worst day of your life. Something landed on top of you, or more accurately someone. 

You were surprised you didn’t feel any cracks as the weight crashed on you. Shifting your weight over, you elbowed the man in the jaw. He rolled off of you with a grunt of pain. You were quick to jab him in the stomach with the toe of your boot. Sputtering a cough with saliva dripping out the mouth, the man rushed to stand. He was trying to fight. 

“You’re on the wrong side of the mountains, partn’r.” He slurred. “This here is O’Driscoll territory, Which you don’t got no business bein’ in.” I’m in the mountains? Where the hell- He didn’t give you enough time to finish that thought before he was throwing a punch at you. If this basic boy thinks he can step in my personal space, he’s got another thing coming. You blocked the fist with your forearm and redirected the force toward the ground. With the base of your wrist, you hit his throat. The force of your own strength and the ever so impeccable sense of gravity caused him to wheeze, choke, and writhe on the ground. 

“Listen here, buddy,” you pressed your boot down on his chest “I have no idea where the hell I am right now. I don’t give a single shit about territory or whatever the fuck you’re going on about, but if you put your hands on me again, I’m gonna mangle your entire lower half with a rake.” You applied more weight. “I didn’t come here of my own volition, someone put me here. Which means, you’re little punk ass better tell me what’s going on or get out of my way so I can-“ Gunshots. Mystery man took your distraction as an opportunity to wriggle out form under you. They were ceaseless, did someone drop you off in the middle of a gang war, what the hell is going on? You were about to duck behind whatever cover was around you if the idiot of the room had decided he didn’t learn his lesson. 

“Are you with those crazies?” He yelled, peeking out the barn doors for only a second. “I should’ve known.” His voice was cold and malicious. “You’re with that son of a bitch, Dutch!”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, pretty boy, they must’ve sent you up to spy on us! I’m gonna kill you for-“

“I literally have no idea what’s going on!” But he wasn’t listening to reason, clocked you in the ribs before you got the chance to block, then using your surprise to his advantage, hit you on the nose. There was a familiar crack and blood rush. “Did you just fucking break my nose, you ass?” You screeched toward the ground, wiping away the blood. 

You took him off guard by doing that, so you were quick to knock him in the jaw. The shooting stopped but you were a little preoccupied and decided not to waste anymore time. His arm bent to caress the side of his face. You rushed forward, lacing your arm between the gap his made. Using all your weight, you swung your legs out and forced him to drop to the ground. His back slammed forcefully and with a swift adjustment, your shins trapped his neck, locking him in place. You squeezed his neck enough to make him gasp. He tried to push away from you, but with the position you left him in, there’s no way he’d be able to without some sort of outside assistance. 

“Who are you calling pretty boy now? Huh? Who, bitch boy?” You heard the door start to open, you let lose and pulled the man up to shield you, locking his head so that you peek between a gap in your arm and his head. A man wearing a blue coat and hat walked in, his hands resting on his belt. 

“Well, well, what have we got ourselves here?” You couldn’t quite place his accent. You noticed he had a holster. 

“Don’t fuck with me, dude. I’ve got your friend trapped between me and you. No need to make this get crazy.” You warned, tightening your grip to enunciate your point. What sounded almost like a chuckle escaped his throat. 

“You must not be an O’Driscoll if you think he’s my friend.” You panicked, you tried to think of your next move, but he had plans of his own. “What’s your name, son?” Your suspicions were correct, it seems. This isn’t the first time someone’s confused you for a man, especially when you were trying so hard to not look like yourself. But maybe, you could use this to your advantage. 

“James West.” That was Austin’s code name for danger. If someone introduced you or called any of you James, it meant they weren’t trust worthy. You and Gina would usually use Jamie, but now James felt like the safer option. 

“Now how in the hell did you get involved in this, West?” He rested his hip against one of the stable posts.  

“I have no idea.” You threw the man away from you, there was no point holding him anymore. “I woke up here, and this guy just started attacking me.” You thought for a moment. “Are you Dutch?” You asked. This time, it was a single, hearty-

“HA!” He had a spark in his eye. “Me? Dutch? I ain’t that old yet, kid.” You rolled your eyes and pulled yourself up. 

“Well, my nose is broken because this little shit thought I was with you, so I have some choice words for this ‘Dutch’.” You huffed. “And don’t call me ‘kid’.” You brushed your fingers across the bridge of your nose, preparing yourself for what you were about to do. One deep breath in, out, pop. You pushed your nose back into place and winced. A wad of blood shot out. “Jesus shit!” You coughed, you never get used to having to do that. The blue coat cowboy looking mother-fucker looked semi-impressed. 

“Well, I’m not Dutch, but you could sure meet him if it pleases.” Something caught his attention. “Speak of the devil…” The door opened again. A man walked in with very distinct black hair. He was also a cowboy looking mother-fucker. Oh god, am I in yeeyee country? His eyes immediately locked on you. 

“Did you cause this mess, Arthur? Or have we just met a new friend?” The man who you presumed to be Dutch, had a deeper voice than the man apparently called Arthur, but their accents were similar. That was not promising for you. 

“That depends, his name is West, James West. I walked in a right fine mess between him and that there O’Driscoll.” Arthur pointed to the man still struggling to steady himself. Dutch choked a deep laugh, he seemed more amused than Arthur was. 

“Right fine is right, Arthur. You did this?” He asked. You nodded reluctantly. “You’re a good fighter, boy. Real good, it seems.” He strode over to the guy on the floor and picked him up by the collar, tossing him over to Arthur. “Morgan, you deal with this trash while I talk to our new pal.” Dutch walked over to you, confidence in his step, while Arthur threw the man back on the ground. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and shook you around a bit. “James West, huh?”

“Yeah, what’s it to ya?” 

“Oh, this boy’s got spunk, Morgan!” You looked over and saw Arthur yanking the man around by the shirt. Dutch forced your attention back to him. “Now West, you’ve gotta understand our position here. We can tell clear as day you ain’t involved in a lick of this mess. But we don’t have a single clue as to what your business is up here. Now, you seem like a considerate young man, but I got worried folks on this mountain, and I can’t have no scamps running around and hellraising” He squeezed your shoulder. “So, don’t take any offense to what I’m about to ask, but what are you doing up here?” He looked you dead in the eyes. In your opinion, the question was fair. You couldn’t fully let your guard down, but they appeared to not be whoever put you here. Then again, these O’Driscoll’s didn’t seem to be either. 

“I can’t give you an answer to that one, Mr. …?” 

“Van Der Linde.” That’s one hell of a name. 

“Mr. Van Der Linde. Frankly, I have no damn clue why I’m here. One minute, I’m getting shot down in the middle of the day, and then I wake up trapped in some barn in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, in what looks like the ass end of winter. So, I’m a little confused right now to say the least.” You were clearly frustrated with your situation, he wasn’t oblivious to it. 

“Where are you from, son?”

“California.” That was a safe enough answer. 

“James West from out West. That’s certainly an opener.” He scratched his chin. “I’m gonna put you to a test young man.” He turned you around and lead you over to where Arthur had just gotten off the now bloody man. He was whimpering, begging under his breath for mercy. 

“I don’t think he’s got much to say, Dutch. They apparently happened upon this place and took it over. That’s all I’m getting’” 

“I’m going to give our new young friend a choice.” He pulled a revolver out of his holster and held the handle out to you. “In normal circumstances, I’d let Arthur handle this situation himself. But I’ve got an itching curiosity with you, kid.” You felt obligated to hold it in your hand. Looking down at the man, pity flared in your chest. “Should we kill him, or let him go? I’m letting you make the call.” What kind of question was this? Who were these guys? The choice wasn’t very difficult, you’d be a hypocrite if you did otherwise, and you weren’t compromising your promise on the off chance these guys might not like your opinion. 

You handed the gun back to Dutch. 

“Just because he’s an asshole, doesn’t mean he deserves to die. Let him go.” Dutch was intrigued by your answer. He looked over to Arthur with a smirk.

“I think I like kid!” 

“Please don’t call me ‘kid.” You requested. Arthur pulled the man to his feet and threw him outside.

“Get outta here before he regrets it.” The man darted into the snow, leaving a trail behind him. 

“Grab the horse, Arthur. We gotta get something out of this.”  You were lead outside to find a horrific scene, bodies were strewn about the snowy landscape. Whoever these guys were, they were not to be trifled with. You should play this safe. 

There was a house not too far away, the snow was dense. It was more than freezing. You sent a glare to the horse Arthur led past you. You’ll pay for this, you dumb fucking horse. With your adrenaline dying down, your whole being felt frozen. 

“Normally, I wouldn’t be one for disrupting dead for anything other than money, but you’ll die out here without something warm, Mr. West.” Dutch gestured to one of the several bodies riddled through the snow. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying your best not to think about how you were robbing from dead people. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you still didn’t feel good about it. You separated from him and carefully stepped around the bodies littered in the snow. You found a man with his face in the snow, you pretty much picked him so you wouldn’t have to see his face as you stripped him of his coat. It didn’t look particularly warm initially, but anything would be better than this. The arms bent limply back as you peeled the sleeves away. Luckily upon further inspection, you were happy to learn there was a sort of wool lining inside, that would at least help insulate your own body heat. A sudden commotion broke out from inside the rustic home. A man yelling for Dutch and a woman screaming. Your instincts made you spring into action, you lept through large portions of the snow to make it to the steps faster and before you knew it you were bursting through the door. A blonde man wearing another cowboy-looking hat was chasing a woman around a table. 

“What the hell are you doing, Micah?” Arthur questioned as him and Dutch followed you in. 

“We got a feisty one over here, boys!” He hollered. Oh, you were not comfortable with this type of language.

“Stop chasing the poor woman, ya moron!” He warned with more intensity. You weren’t gonna see this go down, that’s for sure. You ran up behind the man called Micah, grabbed his collar, and used his weight to pull his back towards you, and then to the ground. His body slammed, he let out a surprised yelp, followed by a pained groan.

“Fucking sicko! Stop chasing her around, she’s scared!” 

“Get out of my house!” The woman bellowed. Admittedly, you had no idea what was going on, but you knew you could at least try and defuse the situation. You put your hands up to appear less threatening. 

“Miss, I don’t know who you are or what in God’s name is going on, but I promise I am not here to hurt you.” You spoke to her in a calm voice. Whatever was going on, it clearly had her frazzled. “I don’t have any weapons, and I don’t make it habit of hurting people who don’t need hurting. You clearly have been hurting for no reason. Can you explain to me what’s happened so that I can help you with this situation?” You took a cautious step around the table to make sure she wouldn’t dart away from you, you kept steady eye contact. 

“They…they killed my husband a few days ago! They took over my home and locked me in the basement!” She wept. Maybe these O’Driscolls were the ones to stow you in the barn, they sure seemed like the type with this new information. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss, ma’am. I can assure you that those men won’t be bothering you anytime soon. Can you-“ You heard glass shatter, looking over, you found Micah scattering to his feet, fire was spreading from the floor to the wall at an incredible rate. It was already crawling up the right-side wall before you had a chance to react. There was no way you could put that out by yourself, and the others weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to help you. You settled on running to grab some blankets from the bed across the room. The boys were leading the woman out of the house and she reluctantly followed. Micah sent you a glare as you passed him out of the house. “Oh, don’t you look at me like that, you weren’t any help!” You knew you should keep your mouth shut, but you knew you were right on this one. The group was walking toward some horses, you followed behind. 

“Micah, lead the horse back to camp.” You handed the blankets to the woman. 

“Thank you.” She seemed genuine but was also hurt by your sentiments.

“It’s no problem, ma’am.”

“Adler, Sadie Adler is my name.” She wrapped herself in the blankets.

“Well, it’s no problem, Mrs. Adler. It’s the bare minimum to what I could’ve done.” You hoped whatever camp Dutch mentioned was close by. This cold was blistering. 

“Mrs. Adler, you may ride with me, we’ll get you back to people who can help.” Dutch hopped up onto a white horse, lending a hand for Sadie to pull herself up. “Arthur, please take our new friend with you. I don’t think he’s in any shape to be riding.” Arthur nodded, heaving himself with ease onto a spotted mare? You couldn’t tell if it was a girl, but you just got that vibe. He did not give you a hand. Oh yeah, I’m a dude. A manly man. You gripped the back of the saddle and used all the arm strength you had to get onto the bare back on the horse. You hoped this ride wasn’t going to be too bumpy because you were not about to get punched because you had to grab onto this man and couldn’t tell if someone was a homophobe or not. You sure hoped these people weren’t, but you weren’t exactly in the position to be picky. 

“Pearson’s not gonna happy about this.” Arthur mentioned as the horses pushed forward.

“Mr. Pearson isn’t happy about anything except his drink. He’ll be alright.” Now seemed like a good a time as any to start asking questions. They couldn’t go anywhere away from you at the moment. 

“Not to interrupt or anything, but could someone tell me where I am, or what day it is. Could someone please tell me what the deal is?”

“We’re north of New Hanover if the maps are correct. We’re planning to head down there as soon as this winter passes. God knows how long that’s gonna take.” Dutch complained. You had never heard of New Hanover, but apparently it was winter. Maybe you really did get shot, put into a hospital maybe? Then these guys… You panicked for a second. O’Driscoll wasn’t another name for them was it? It didn’t make much sense but no one else would put this much effort into stealing you away. “As for the day, I couldn’t tell ya exactly. It’s winter in the year of our Lord 1899.” He laughed. What?

“What?”

“Ah, just bit of a joke, son. We live in dark times. We’re hurtling straight into a new century.” Wait was he joking or not joking?

“It’s 1899?” You tried to keep your voice neutral, but he seemed to pick up on your worry.

“Yes, it is, son.” He paused. “Are you alright?” You were anything but alright. These people are crazy, I’m trapped on a mountain with some insane cultists who think they’re in the 19th century, I’m fucked. “Arthur, we need to hurry, the boy’s looking pale.” 

Your head felt fuzzy, colors were blurring together. I am not stuck on a god damn mountain in 1899, I’m not, that’s physically impossible. This is all a dream, or some weird set up. You felt like you were 19 again, disconnected, afraid, losing it. You weren’t gonna go back there again, you wouldn’t! You didn’t know you had stopped breathing. You didn’t feel Arthur’s arm catching you so you wouldn’t get trampled. Everything was black. 

[akvtsuki-ari]

Sweetheart (Ch.1)

Warnings: Mentions of BDSM and bunch of other kinks but nothing sexual in this chapter lol. Sub!Spencer and Femdom!Reader 

Length: 5.3k 

Authors Note: this is hands down the most self-indulgent shit ive ever wrote but do i care? the answer is no dsjk  but this that series i had planned where the reader introduces spencer to proper BDSM and all that. hoping to make this fic kinda informative also lol. also im uploading this fic on ao3 as well. also no tags for this fic bc its really specific and ill probably be writing for it for a while! sorry about that

Plot Summary: Spencer Reid just wanted to be.., well, you know. He doesn’t expect to find much when he signs up for a BDSM dating website but somehow he manages you and he couldn’t be more delighted

Spencer Reid was certainly a lot of things. He was a lover of the arts, someone who had a particular affinity for 15th-century literature, a magician at best, a theater nerd at worst, and a teacher when life called for it. He loves the world even when it's really dark and he loves sleeping in even more. He loves his friends and they love him too - even when they pretend that his random facts annoy them. Spencer Reid was a friend, an FBI agent, a genius with an IQ of 187, and a son to a mother he loves wholly. He was a lot of things and for the most part - he knew a lot about what he really loved to do. He supposed that it's been like that his whole life.

It's not everyday that he discovers something new about himself. About everything else? Always. He loves to learn, but about himself? There's never all that much on the frontier.

It's hard to say, because of that, when Spencer discovered he was a sub. It's difficult to pinpoint a specific time and place, or even how the pieces got put together. He just remembers how it felt when it hit him, like a freight train going 100 miles an hour into a concrete wall. Or a plane crashing onto an island. Or like a fly hitting the glass panes of a delivery truck. He remembers the feeling when he was deftly reminded of this fact. Spencer Reid was a sub - through and through and he wasn't really sure what to make of it.

Surprisingly to most of his direct peers, Spencer wasn't a virgin. He'd had sex with 2 people who he'd been kinda friends with at some point, but it always got a little weird after that. The second time though, the girl ended up choking him a little bit when she got off and Spencer thought he had died. Not in a bad way, more in a "I'm so turned on by this I feel like I've genuinely gone to heaven," sort of way. He didn't think it was possible for a sexual encounter to make him feel like that but it did. It didn't stop after that either, which was the most agitating part. 

Spencer doesn't consider himself a sexual person. Sex is about intimacy and companionship, and hopefully love when he finds that someday. Sex isn't necessarily about pleasure but that wasn't an easy lesson to learn.

Spencer just wanted to understand - so like any great genius he participated in thought experiments. It's normally a female superhero/supervillain that crosses his mind (he has an affinity for Poison Ivy), and he just kinda imagines what it would be like if they did what she did. The choking turned him on, but it wasn't enough. Through that, he figures out that he had more than a choking kink and that he was more than a little interested in a partner having complete access to him. He thought about it for weeks and the getting off was working for him but he couldn't get the fantasy out of his head. He wanted more - he wanted someone to fulfill his wishes.

It was too much for him to ignore. Those months of being able to hold off through masturbating are over and he's just sorta itching. Aching to act on those impulses with another person who can give him what he needs, and he doesn't want it to be transactional. Maybe it's too ideal to want a partner out of such an endeavor but was it so wrong? To want real affection and romance from someone who could also overpower him wasn't a crime and he'd be damned if he pretended to want any less. Spencer was just searching, even if it was rather desperately. 

So, when Spencer finds himself on a BDSM dating site and he feels like his life is in shambles, he can only blame himself. It's not something he'd normally do but he's getting a little more than relentless about it but he also just wants to see what's out there. He's so out of it was it happens, it felt like he was being possessed as he made a fake email and wrote out his account information. Definitely blaming it on possession, he thinks. 

It's too late to go back, as he scrolls through tons of profiles of rather intense looking people. He's not surprised, this is where people go to express themselves. They're entitled to that, it just sucks since he's just not ready for such levels of intensity. He wonders if he's in too deep yet, but he figures he'd hit that mark a long time ago and keeps scrolling through profiles. There wasn't much to go off of, many people not choosing to use photos for the sake of anonymity, which was good for Spencer. He clicks onto his own profile, reading his own bio carefully.

USERNAME: DOC187 

SUB/ SWITCH / DOM 

M / F / O

FETISHES: N/A

BIO: Interest in a dominant female companion. Completely inexperienced.

Spencer feels ridiculous, but he doubts anyone would even message him. He doesn't have much on his profile and he keeps things short for that purpose. He wanted to stay as low to the ground as possible - more curious to explore what was going in the world than to find anything legitimate. He scrolls through hundreds of profiles, mostly of people who were BDSM vets looking for new connections or fun. Some people catch his eye but they don't match his interests so he doesn't bother.

Except, one profile. The bio was beyond interesting to Spencer.

USERNAME: MISS—LILAC

SUB / SWITCH / DOM 

M / F / O 

FETISHES: Sadomasochist, Degradation, Humiliation, Pegging, Overstimulation, Edging, Crossdressing, Exhibitionism, Mutual Masturbation, Dacryphilia, Shibari/Gags/Bondage, Wax Play, Impact Play, Breath Play, General Sensation Play, Discipline, Collaring, Begging. Willing to try most things. 

BIO: Interested in submissive males of any experience level. Helps if you're interesting and like to read and watch indie films. Looking for genuine connection and plenty of good banter. Curly hair is nice too. lol.

Before Spencer can think about it for too long his mouse clicks over that stupid little message button next to your profile. Spencer shakes his head at his own existence as he types you a message. Says you're online right now, but Spencer's sure he won't get a response for a while.

DOC187: Seems I fit who you're interested in. I even have the curly hair.

Spencer chews on his nails anxiously before he sighs at himself. He has no clue what's gotten into him belle before he can think he sees your 3-dotted bubble pop up. He feels his body wracked with nerves.

MISS—LILAC: I'm guessing you like to read and watch indie films too?

Spencer smiles. You seem interesting and the fact that the two of you were just talking normal was making Spencer happy.

DOC187: Indeed. I'm a sucker for 15-century literature and anything in Russian and foreign language. You?

MISS—LILAC: 15th century huh? I'll assume Chaucer. And Russian? You're interesting, doc. I'm more modern and English, hope you're not deterred.

Spencer smiles, surprised that you recognize an author as niche as Chaucer. He shakes his head at your commentary. He almost forgets that both of you are on a BDSM dating site and the irony doesn't escape him.

DOC187: Deterred? Never. I think you're rather interesting too, Miss Lilac.

MISS—LILAC: Ever the gentleman doc. I'm hoping you won't run away if I ask you more personal questions.

Spencer swallows. He types back quickly.

DOC187: What kinds of questions?

MISS—LILAC: If it's okay, you're real name and what you do. My names Y/N, and I'm a florist. I live in DC and I love romance novels.

Spencer smiles. He appreciates you laying down the path for him, knowing the stakes.

DOC187: My names Spencer and I work for the FBI. I also live in DC, and I love magic.

MISS—LILAC: Magic? I'd love for you to show me sometime.

Spencer swallows. Part of him feels like it's a stupid idea to ask you out so early but if you asked, he'd likely say yes. He decides to wait it out.

DOC187: I'd be more than happy to show you.

MISS—LILAC: I suppose you could send me a video but that's not the same as seeing the magic in real life, now is it?

Spencer is smiling like an idiot at this point. He shakes his head a little, jittery.

DOC187: Infinitely better live, I would say.

MISS—LILAC: Seems like I've found an excuse to ask you on a date then. Saturday's work for me but I'm sure it depends on you, FBI man. Before that, I'm gonna drop my number and I'll be expecting your call. (XXX-XXX-XXXX)

Spencer giggles. It's a little out of range for things he's used to doing, giggling aloud for someone else is certainly new. Spencer picks up his phone and dials away, anxious to call you but excited nonetheless. He heard you pick up the phone and his heart catches in his throat.

"Hello?," Your voice is smooth, and a little bit lower than he was expecting. It sounds pretty.

"Hello, Y/N," Spencer says back. He heard you laugh on the other side and can't help the way his heart flutters.

"Lovely to talk to you doc,"

"Still Doc? Not Spencer?" Spencer questions. You smile on the other side of the line.

"Doc seems to fit you. But, for the sake of formality, hello Spencer,"

"I like Doc too, but it feels like I should have a nickname for you as well. Only seems fair," Spencer says laughing quietly.

"If it's your prerogative you can call me Miss Lilac, or just Miss but..." you trail off for a minute. Spencer squints.

"Miss is a title, you know? Doesn't seem fair for you to call me that when I haven't earned it from you yet. I'm sure we'll get there but for now you can just call me Y/N," you say softly. Spencer blushes bright red, his voice betraying him as he speaks.

"O-Oh, well um - where does the name Lilac come from? Normally people go with their names when it comes to stuff like that," Spencer says shyly. He heard you laugh on the other side of the phone and blushes again, grateful you can't see him.

"I love the language of flowers and flowers themselves. It's a way to speak that not many people know - but I like the meaning and look of lilacs. White lilacs represent purity, so that was a bit of irony, but light purple lilacs mean first love," you say carefully.

"First love?," Spencer asks. You bite your lip for a moment.

"I joke that BDSM is my first love since it's such a big part of my life. Not as big as some but not small for certain. It gave me much needed confidence so I joke that it was my first," You say lightly. You hear Spencer giggle on the other side and you smile.

"What about your username? Any significance to DOC187 that I should know of?," you readjust your seat on your couch as you talk. Spencer grows a bit embarrassed.

"I normally introduce myself as Doctor Spencer Reid for work, not a medical doctor but I have three PhD's," Spencer admits. You raise your brows but hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Very, very impressive doc. What about the 187? It could be a plain ol' number but my guess would be otherwise,"

"That's my IQ, actually. I don't think intelligence can be boiled down and quantified like that but I couldn't think of anything else," Spencer explains.

"So you're a certified genius with 3 PhD's? To say I'm impressed is an understatement. Anything else impressive you'd like to tell me before I totally pick your brains," you say a little shocked.

"You wanna pick my brains?," Spencer asks. You wanna laugh at the irony of such a silly question from such an intelligent man but you refrain.

"Who wouldn't?," you say incredulously. Spencer smiles shyly.

"The only other thing is that I can read 20,000 words per minute," Spencer says trying to deflect. Your jaw dropped before but it manages to unhinge a little further.

"There's a lot to get to know about you Doctor Reid,"

"I'm sure it's the same for you," Spencer replies.

"Guess we'll have to find out won't we?," you say smiling.

Damn, Spencer got lucky. Hopefully he'd get to find out soon

_____

"Reid, are you listening?," Derek's voice snaps Spencer out of his entranced state. His smiling expression snaps up to look at Derek who looks a little exasperated.

"Sorry, what was that?," Spencer asks back. Derek puts down the case file they were working on. They had just finished a case and needed to complete some paperwork before submitting it for review and to be used in court. The job was given to him and Morgan and Spencer was evidently distracted.

"Alright, kid - what is up with you? All case you've been checking your phone non-stop and spacing out, all smiles and giggles. C'mon now kid, seriously. You got a little lady at home waiting for you or is there something else I don't know about?," Derek interrogates. Spencer doesn't really know what to make of it, though it's not really in his interest to hide you, it hasn't really come up with anyone on the team yet so it was proving difficult to decide what to do. The smile on his face manages to appear again as he starts to think about you, the tips of his ears red.

"Reid," Morgan says again, with a small look of irritation.

"Her names Y/N," Spencer blurts out faster than he can't think. Derek gives him a huge grin, holding his hand out to dap Spencer up. Spencer just looks at it confused for a second before getting the memo.

"'My man," Derek says chuckling. Before Spencer can continue Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia walk in. Hotch is the only one missing, and Spencer's a little grateful.

"What are we celebrating in here you guys?," Prentiss asks first. Spencer goes to say something to move away from his sudden confession but Derek is quick to cut him off.

"Our boy genius over here got him a little lady," Derek announces. The whole team erupts in questions and Spencer wants to bury himself.

"Congratulations, Spencer!! How long have you two been dating?," Prentiss asks.

"You guys are so dramatic. It's only been two months but no first date because well..." Spencer trails off. JJ just nods her head.

"Duty calls, I'm guessing" JJ finishes. Spencer nods deflated hearing Emily draw a breath between her teeth.

"That's tough, Spence,"

Just as Spencer goes to give a response back he gets a text from you that makes his day a little better. It's a selfie of you at work, a picture your employee must've taken of you in a room full of new flower deliveries. You're giving Spencer a toothy grin as you hold a bunch of gardenias in your hand.

Y/N 🌸: *image attachment* 

Gardenias// You're lovely + Secret Love <33

Spencer cannot control the way his whole face bunches up in a smile, as if there's no one else in the room with him. Everyone just looks at him surprised, Garcia giving him a side-eye.

"How can you guys trust this stranger? We don't even know who she is! I haven't even run any background checks on her," Garcia complains. Prentiss nudges her side.

"I don't know if it matters - look at how hard he's smiling over there," Prentiss says. Garcia reluctantly looks and can't help but sigh.

"Okay well he seems really happy but still! We don't even know her," she pouts.

"I'm sure we'll meet her soon," JJ snickers at Spencer's lovestruck expression. Derek leans over Spencer's shoulder and raises his brows.

"Is that her, kid?," Derek asks. Spencer nods, simply staring at the picture you sent. Derek whistles when he sees you - you're genuinely stunning and he's surprised to say the least.

"Hot mama, pretty boy - how'd you manage that?," Derek asks, dumbfounded. Emily rolls her eyes.

"C'mon Derek, I'm sure - oh wow," Emily leans over Spencer's shoulder to see you and is met with the same reaction. JJ and Garcia are quick to follow thereafter, both looking equally as surprised.

"She's..." JJ trails off. The rest of the team just nods as Spencer grins ear to ear.

Spencer 🐻: Beautiful, as always.

Spencer ignores the rest of the team as they look at each other in disbelief.

Y/N🌸: Me or the flowers, Doc?

Spencer🐻: Both, but mostly you.

"Wow, Spencer you're really -" Prentiss starts

"You're whipped, kid. I mean seriously whipped," Derek finishes, nodding in agreement. JJ can't help but smile, giving Spencer a small pat on the back.

"She seems lovely, Spencer. How'd you two meet?," JJ says. Garcia stands around looking rather suspicious. A blush creeps onto Spencer's neck as he's reminded of how you two met.

"Online," Spencer says shortly. No one decides to question it, and Spencer thanks every god he can think of.

"Have you two FaceTimed yet? How can we know she's not, I don't know - catfishing you? Or scamming you in some other cyber criminal way?," Garcia sounds distressed. Spencer gives a small smile.

"We fall asleep over FaceTime every night," Spencer admits. Penelope's expression falls, and Prentiss gives a smile.

"That is disgustingly cute," JJ says laughing.

"Okay, well - I'm still running a background check on her," Garcia says stubbornly "But, I'm happy for you,"

"Thanks Garcia," Spencer mumbles out as he texts you again.

Y/N🌸: I wanna see you, love

Spencer blushes red as he reads your message. The word love makes his whole face hot.

Spencer🐻: I can't take a selfie for my life

Y/N🌸: You're with your team aren't you? Get them to take a picture of you.

Spencer wants to fold away, not ever really being the picture type, but how could he ever deny you.

Spencer🐻: How could I ever say no to you?

"Hey guys, can one of you take a picture of me for Y/N?" Spencer asks embarrassingly red. The whole team sends him a look of surprise.

"I'll take it Spence, try not to look as uncomfortable as you do right now," JJ says. The whole team refrains from laughing as Spencer gives an awkward smile. He thanks JJ who hands him back his phone before texting you again.

Spencer🐻: *image attachment* You owe me one

Y/N🌸: you're stunning as always. hadn't seen you in so long I almost forgot what you looked like.

Spencer🐻: stunnings an interesting choice of words.

Y/N🌸: I said what I said, doc. 

Spencer can't help but do a little giggle, that causes the whole team to give him a look. Morgan just shakes his head, shrugging. Emily, JJ, and Garcia just look at each other before the room draws into a subtle but comfortable silence as Spencer just smiles, totally unaware of how whipped he happened to look. He didn’t seem to mind either way. 

___

"How was work?," Spencer asks over the phone, kicking his shoes off as he looks into his fridge for something to eat. He hears you sigh on the other side of the line.

"Busy today - wedding season is coming up so tons of calls for centerpiece designs and costs. It's going well though, business couldn't be better," you say, clearly tired yet content. Spencer gives a small smile and feels relieved that things are going okay for you.

"That's really good. I'm glad you're feeling alright," Spencer replies. You ease into the couch as you talk to Spencer, relaxing by the second. 

"What about you, FBI man? You have an okay day?," Your voice is full of a gentle concern that Spencer appreciates.

"Yeah, just paperwork and JJ said that we shouldn't have any upcoming cases this week to be worried about so I have the weekend off," Spencer says without thought.

"Have any special plans for the weekend?," you say cheekily. Spencer, still not having caught on, shakes his head for a second.

"No, why?,"

"Hm... well - would you like to go on a date with me then Doctor Reid?," You ask, giggling. Spencer's eyes widen in realization as he facepalms for a moment.

"Wow, I didn't even think... yes - yes I would love to go on a date with you Y/N," Spencer says laughing at his own misfortune. You shake your head instinctively, but the growing smile and even further growing adoration makes it hard to sit still.

"Hey, Spencer," you say, butterflies filling your stomach.

"Yeah?"

"I really like you,"

____

Saturday comes quicker than Spencer can really understand. You told him not to worry about what the days plans would be but he can't help it. Anxiously awaiting you in front of the cafe that the two of you were supposed to meet at, in a part of town Spencer hasn't really seen before. You said that you'd lead the way and the irony isn't lost on him.

"Spencer?," Your voice is small, as you call out to what you think is Spencer Reid. Of course, you'd seen him before but to see him in person like this was still so unfamiliar. His head shoots up, eyes searching for you. He's delighted to have found you, certainly that was true as he walks towards you. Your arms envelop him in a friendly hug and he can't help but find himself sinking into. You smelled sweet, like fruit and flowers (which makes sense, the more he thinks about it)

"Lovely to finally meet you, Y/N,"

"Same goes for you, doc. Would you like to be informed of our plans for the day, or do you prefer the element of surprise?,"  You ask smiling. Spencer laughs at your question.

"Details would be appreciated, but I get the feeling you're not gonna give me those."

"You're right! It's a trick question, since it's a surprise. But, promise it'll be good,"

"I'll take your word for it then," Spencer says with a small smile. You hold your hand out for Spencer which he accepts, locking his hands with yours. The affection makes him feel full of warmth, as you lead him away for the day you had planned for the both of you.

___

Spencer underestimated how well you knew him. He really, really did. It's hard to explain since Spencers been on a date before but this was so profoundly different. He's a little touched, but beyond that he's just.. surprised? Every date he'd been on before this, he'd have to play the gentleman but it never seemed like the other person was interested in just him. It was always casual small-talk over dinner, or a mid-day coffee date or something else that just felt mundane but this was beyond Spencer's imagination.

The first place you took him was a bookstore - which was in Spencers mind already a winner for best date he'd ever been on. You walked inside with him and told him he had to pick up a book for you and you had to pick up a book for him and to say his heart absolutely fluttered would be an understatement. He picked up up a copy of "The Screwtape Tales," by C.S. Lewis for you, and you gave him a copy of Shel Silverstein's "Where The Sidewalk Ends." For you, you got a glimpse to see what Spencer's sense of humor was and you gave Spencer a piece of your childhood. Both equal but opposite forms of intimacy. The only thing was Spencer had to wait to read his book because it's relatively shorter than yours and he reads 20,000 words per minute.

The next place you took Spencer was an indoor butterfly garden. Does he have to explain why that's a good date? He heard you talk about all the scientific names for the different flowers and why they attract butterflies and he wasn't sure he could crush any harder on you if he tried. A particular moment sticks out to him on which a butterfly landed on your shoulders and just stayed there like it didn't want to leave. Spencer's eyes were fixated on it the whole time - and he had never wanted to be a butterfly in his life before but he figures there's a first time for everything.

The last place, where the both of you were at now was just a small coffee shop, locally owned and supported by the community here. You told Spencer that when you started up your shop, you'd come in here to work on big orders before you'd expanded enough to have employees. Spencer admires your work ethic, much more than he could ever anticipate as he sits down at a small booth, totally covering the both of you as you return to the table with a little plate of banana bread and two iced coffees. Spencer pouts as he looks up at you, watching you flash him a grin.

"I could've helped you carry this over," Spencer complains gently. You roll your eyes.

"Maybe next time doc," you say softly. You hold back your commentary often on the date, and Spencer pretends not to notice for your sake but he'd be lying if he said he didn't wanna know. You always had something sly to say but you'd kept it from him so many times now he figures it's better if he didn't ask.

Spencer looks at you as you push a plate of banana bread towards him. He looks at you with curious eyes before reading your clearly excited face and laughs. He picks up a piece and examines it, before taking a bite. If it tasted as good as it smelled then he would be more than obliged.

The involuntary moan that escapes Spencer's throat makes you choke with laughter. Shit, you weren't kidding when you said this was the best banana bread in the city. Spencer just looks up at you like he's about to cry with joy as you double over in giggles.

"I know," You say softly, taking a bite yourself eyes filling with joy "I ordered some more for us to take home - you're welcome," you say with confidence. Spencer smiles because that is genuinely thoughtful, but it was more endearing to see you pretend it wasn't. He just shakes his head, a blush arising to his face as he looks at you. You're staring at him with intent. He quirks his brow at you in question.

"I had a good time today, Spencer" You say warmly. You only called him Spencer when you were saying something affectionate and a bit serious. He gives you a toothy smile.

"I haven't been on very many dates, but this was easily the best one I'd ever been on," Spencer says honestly. You grin ear to ear, hands carefully holding Spencer across the table, running your thumb over his knuckles for a few seconds. You couldn't say for sure whether it was too soon to ask him to be your boyfriend, but you'd be damned if you said it didn't cross your mind.

Spencer was mind-numbingly unaware of what good boyfriend material he was, but beyond that - what good submissive boyfriend material he was. It was driving you nuts, but you knew this was all new for him and you didn't wanna freak him out. Even when guys say they're interested in being submissive, they're still often times uncomfortable with you being fully dominant. Dominant in public and in bed, if you will. You wanted to pay for dates, and buy him flowers, and make him feel special too - at least on the occasion. That role came naturally to you, that let me make you feel owned type affection that only a dominant person can give. It scared men off - out of relationships, and you totally got why - but you liked Spencer too much as a person to risk iit.

Spencer holds your hands together, gathering your attention. You looked at him spaced out and he gives you a look of concern.

"You okay?," Spencer asks. You nod, chewing your lip in debate of whether or not you should express your concerns. Spencer just tugs on your hand and looks at you intently.

You sigh, looking at Spencer softly.

"I'm okay I just really like you," you say a little exasperated. Spencer laughs but is filled with relief.

"I'm glad to hear that. What else is on your mind?,"

"I really like you - like in an, I want you to officially by my boyfriend way and I hope it's not too soon but I'm just, worried I guess," you say nervously. Spencer can't help the way his heart beats in his chest when he hears you say boyfriend. God did he want to be your boyfriend.

"What're you worried about?,"

"I'm worried about freaking you out. I can be a lot since I'm... you know?," You say nervously. Spencer looks at you  to continue.

"I'm more than just dominant in bed, and for a lot of guys it's not their thing and that's their right but I like you so much. I really don't want that to happen if I ask you out now and you realize that it's not for you," you say in clear upset.

Spencer looks at you in disbelief. You were worried that he was gonna freak out over that? That you were too dominant for him? It feels like such a silly concern but the expression on your face tells him you're speaking from experience.

"I mean, it's all kinda new to me but, well - I do like how you treat me? It's a nice change, I can't imagine myself getting tired of it, or of you. I really like you too," Spencer tried his best to reassure you without totally embarrassing you. You smiles at Spencer but your face is still full of doubt.

"If that ever changes, I'll tell you but I'd really like to call you my girlfriend," Spencer finishes. You can't help the warmth that spreads in your stomach at the offer. You just nod, looking up at him. You stand and walk to Spencer's side of the booth, sliding in next to him, leaning your head into his shoulder for a few while seconds. You sit back up, and Spencer turns to you.

"Hey, doc," you say softly. Spencer hums in acknowledgement.

"Can I kiss you?," you ask softly. Spencer chews his lip and nods, looking down at your lip. You're wearing lipgloss and it makes them look pretty - you are so pretty to Spencer.

Kisses are their own language, Spencer figures. The way someone kisses you can tell you a lot about who they are - so, when you put your hands on the side of Spencer's face, pulling him closer to you with such care and adoration - Spencer can feel what you were referencing earlier. The word Miss rings out in his mind, the way you pay attention to him with your hands. He feels your lips press against his, slowly gliding your fingers in his hair, thumb brushing agains the side of his cheek. Your other hand rested on his inner thigh and he has to think about anything other than that not to get hard. Spencer didn't get how much he'd been thinking about touching you until you'd do with no hesitation and he lets out a small whine. You pull back and Spencer has to catch his breath.

His lashes blink up at you and you're absolutely beaming.

"You're cute baby,"

Baby? Spencer wants to cover his face when you say it. You kiss him again and he can't help but feel flush.

You were Spencer's girlfriend and then some and he couldn't be more happy.

[lizardkingeliot]

Fic Writer Questions

tagged by: @lazybakerart thank you! 💖

How many works do you have on AO3?

147 (jfc)

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

789,230 (i did the math recently and over 400k of this is Queliot fic from the past two and a half years lmaooo)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

According to my expanded fandom list on ao3 these are the numbers:

Hannibal (TV) (64)

The Magicians (TV) (33)

Supernatural (18)

Queer as Folk (US) (14)

The Exorcist (TV) (13)

The Magicians - Lev Grossman (2)

Vikings (TV) (2)

Historical RPF (1)

Hannibal (TV) RPF (1)

The Walking Dead (TV) (1)

Mænd & høns | Men & Chicken (2015) (1)

Basic Instinct (Movies) (1)

15th Century CE RPF (1)

Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris (1)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I am going to choose from my Magicians fic only here since it’s what I’m most proud of:

wellspring

time cast a spell on you (but you won't forget me)

as it was

and this is the map of my heart

life fades (but you remain)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes absolutely. Comments are very important to me and I want everyone who takes the time to leave one to know how much I appreciate them. 💖

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

prooooobably throw your shadow over me. there is zero resolution since it’s a missing scene set in late season 3 and, well..... lol. it’s seriously miserable.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Just the one Hannigram AU I think???? I have never been super into crossovers tbh.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

lol yes, but it’s been a while???? although i did get one comment on a fic last year that wasn’t technically hate but it put such a bad taste in my mouth it might as well have been. it’s never a good idea to tell someone you don’t like the way they write a character, regardless of your intent. it is okay to simply hit the back button and move on with your day. :)

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

So much. Maybe too much???? Whatever. I really love writing deeply meaningful and descriptive sex that feels like an entire ~experience for my readers.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think so??????

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yep. :)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! @lazybakerart and I collaborated on a Hannibal fic years ago and we had so much fun.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Queliot now and forever. I have never in all my life had my heart completely fucking consumed like this. I’ve written close to a half million words about these bitches since 4x05 aired and I think I’m physically incapable of stopping at this point.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

That season one AU I started writing when season 4 ended that’s an entire 70k mess sitting in a doc I haven’t touched since 2019. There were some really cool ideas in it (including an alternate mosaic timeline that was like a probability spell sorta?????) and I mayyyyy one day incorporate some of it into another fic, but as a whole I simply do not think it’s worth the effort it would take to make it good enough to post.

What are your writing strengths?

I think I write sex and romance well??? Also: conversations, similes, and sensory language.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Last night I had to describe the suspenders Quentin was trying on. I will probably have to spend an entire day editing that paragraph alone. I can go on for pages and pages about this deeply meaningful and emotional shit and then freeze up when I have to get a character dressed or make them move from one room to the next... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

This is a deeply ironic question for me to answer at the moment because I generally do not do this BUT there’s a moment in the new chapter of a litany of dreams that I’m working on where Eliot says... something. In another language. During a very specific scene. And it just sort of happened???? It’s a term of endearment (that I googled about ten different ways just to make sure I wasn’t fucking it up lmao) and I’m still 50/50 on whether it will make it into the final draft of the chapter but right now every time I think about my heart mayyyybe starts to beat a little faster. Eliot Waugh is a goddamn sap, y’all.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

For this one I will direct you all to this recent tweet of mine lmao...

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

My time cast a spell on you series without a doubt. I am SO PROUD of the work I’ve put into the 200k written for this ‘verse so far. It’s the biggest challenge keeping everything tonally consistent, but so deeply rewarding every time I finish a chapter and read it over and feel like I’ve accomplished just that. I’ve learned so much about my process and who I want to be as a writer from this ‘verse. And I’m so excited about all the messy and emotionally complex stuff I have planned for the remainder of part two. And allllll the other fics I have planned for this ‘verse in the future. 💖

tagging @thelucindac @nellie-elizabeth @akisazame @allegria23 @biblionerd07 @defilerwyrm @imaginedmelody @rubickk7 and anyone else who wants to talk about their fic. 💖

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and dating Dean Portman

(Not my gif)(requested by @rschelberry )

- You saw Dean before you met him. You were stood off to the side watching the new recruits when he first came out onto the ice. You watched apprehensively as he threw people down and made an interesting first impression. He was entertaining that’s for sure.

- You; just like the other ducks, were unsure of the newcomers and not so keen on sharing the ice with a bunch of strangers. But you stayed back when they went to argue with each other knowing that nothing you said or did would change the predicament you were in.

- Dean “first saw you” or rather first paid attention to you when you smoothly skated over as Bombay and Tibbles spoke. You shared looks with your fellow teammates while he caught his first glimpse of your face and what a face it was.

- It wasn’t until later that you spoke to him for the first time. It was right after Les tried to ask about his tattoo that you stepped in, stretching out a hand and introducing yourself. He put on his best tough guy face and gave your hand a firm shake.

“Enforcer huh?”

“Mhm.”

“Well I’m a left wing so we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. Welcome to the team Portman.” You said as nonchalantly as you could while you walked away. Oh he liked you.

- Like Fulton said: “Deans not scared of anything” and once he’s set his eyes on something he’s going to find a way to get it. You just happen to be that something.

- At first he just watches you a lot especially when the team isn’t exactly a “team”. Your fellow Ducks don’t take too kindly to the brutes infatuation. They glare at him and warn you to stay away from him, often purposefully trying to block you from view.

- When (and before) the team starts to bond you notice that Dean acts differently around you or at least to you. He’s nicer, slightly quieter, and more helpful. There’s definitely a visible difference between how he treats you and everyone else.

- You two are on friendly terms before anyone else which slightly irritates the Ducks. They don’t want you around him, much like an older sibling/parent doesnt want you around a “bad influence”. They don’t trust him.

- But, it’s only when everyone’s on good terms that he actively starts to pursue you. One day things just sort of … change? He starts flirting with you which throws you for a loop; you think he’s just kidding at first but then you realize he’s being serious. You’re confused but at the same time you…sorta like it?

- His flirting consists of teasing you, twirling your hair, complimenting you, flexing and winking when he catches you looking at him. And you let it go on for a while because it makes you feel good and you kinda like him back until one day he decides it’s time to confess.

- You’re hanging out with him in your room and he’s messing around with your stuff while you do your homework. You’re both just in a comfortable silence until he speaks.

“Hey y/n/n?”

“Mhm.”

“What would you say if I told you I loved you?” You sort of freeze as you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

“Well I don’t know,” you smile. “Why? Is there something you want to tell me?”

- He looks at you and shakes his head with a smile. “Y/n y/l/n I am completely, madly in love with you.”

“Well Dean Portman, it’s a good thing I’m in love with you as well.”

- He nearly tackles you onto your bed before the two of you share your first kiss. The whole time you’re thinking that any minute now you’ll wake up but you don’t and you open your eyes again to find him staring back at you with a smile.

- Technically that was your first date but you don’t really count it as such. No, your first date was at a theme park. He bought both of you tickets and the two of you had a blast screaming your lungs out on roller coasters. He even won you a prize on one of the games they had which you still have sitting on your bed to this day.

- After he won you the prize he asks if he’s “won your heart too” and you guess he really has because the two of you have been together ever since.

- He’s honestly the sweetest guy you’ve ever met. Behind his tough exterior he has a heart of gold.

- Soo many pet names. Babe, baby, honey, sweetie, angel; he rarely ever says your name.

- You call him your/a big teddy bear and he never outright denies it even though he has his bad boy reputation to keep up.

- The instant you seem even the slightest bit sad he’s trying to figure out what’s wrong and getting all soft on you. This boy turns into the human embodiment of comfort. His voice softens, he hugs you, kisses your forehead, listens intently, just everything and anything you could ever want when you’re upset.

- He scares off anyone that annoys you. You don’t even have to say anything, he just senses your impatience/discomfort and acts.

- You think you’ve seen protective, you’ve seen nothing yet. If he even hears about someone bothering you he’s immediately ready to kick ass. He offers to fight them which you laugh at but he’s only slightly kidding.

- It’s a good thing it’s sort of his job to take care of you on the ice because he’s constantly making sure no one gets to you and putting people who knock you down in their place.

- He’s like a moderate to severe on the jealous scale. If there’s a real reason to be jealous then he’ll get jealous (and will probably take it up with the guy). But if there’s really no reason to be he won’t be, like when you’re being platonic with a guy friend or just talking to a guy at lunch.

- He’s well aware that he’s good looking and…athletic; especially for his age, so he isn’t really all that worried about you running off with someone else. Just his appearance alone keeps people away from you, let alone his reputation. It’s rare that a guy is genuinely flirting with you.

- And regardless the both of you make it obvious that you’re only interested in each other which means you don’t have to worry about any girls getting to him either.

- He’s a cuddle bug; he can’t last a day without cuddling. He’ll always deny it but time and time again he’s the one pulling you onto the bed. Doesn’t matter where, doesn’t matter when; he’ll find a way to cuddle you.

- Tracing his tattoo.

- Sitting on his lap.

- Straddling his stomach while he runs his hands up and down your thighs.

- Makeout sessions while listening to rock music. He’s probably made a makeout mixtape for the two of you.

- He just loves making you mixtapes. He’s genuinely spent hours making you; what he thinks is, the perfect mixtape.

- Dancing and yelling out the lyrics to your favorite songs together.

- Doing stupid reckless shit together.

- I’m convinced that he’s the type of guy who buys cheap glass/porcelain and invites you over to smash it with him.

- He always makes sure he’s next to you when you’re sitting with the team on the benches or hanging out with friends.

- Obviously being really close to Fulton. He never minds being a third wheel or having you tag along on “bro nights”.

- The two of you share looks at each other constantly. Someone does something stupid or weird you’re immediately giving each other side eyes and looking to see if the other person saw.

- Bear hugs.

- He’s always touching you in someway. Arm over your shoulders, hand on your waist, hugging you from behind, etc, etc.

- Swatting his hands away when he tries to touch your butt.

- Ice cream and fast food dates.

- Taking long walks together. Sometimes you find something to do along the way, other times you just enjoy each other’s company.

- Having your own handshake.

- Matching bandannas? Matching bandannas.

- Wearing his clothes even though they’re huge on you.

- He always loves when you wear his old jersey. He just can’t stop staring at you and smiling whenever you have it on.

- Giving each other pep talks and having little pre game rituals.

- Calming him down when refs make a harsh or ridiculous call. It’s honestly pretty easy since the moment he sees you he just naturally calms. He’s a big tough guy but he was raised right and that means no taking your anger out on others and not taking things too seriously.

- Even though he’s a total macho man he loves when you take care of/baby him. Want to bandage the tiny cut he got on his hand? Be his guest; he’ll subtly play up the pain just to get an extra “Aw” and a kiss.

- Beach dates.

- Theme park, carnival and amusement park dates; just places with that general chaotic aura.

- Bowling dates.

- He always carries your things for you. Doesn’t matter how light, doesn’t matter how heavy, he’s taking it.

- He likes to pick you up at random. Just throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes or lifts you off the ground and places you a foot or so away from where you were previously standing. He feels very satisfied when you shriek in surprise, lightly smack him on the arm or break out laughing.

- He constantly tries to flex and show off in front of you. …yummy….

- He takes great pride in making you flustered.

- He likes teasing you in any way he can. Holding something over his head, tickling you, straight up (playfully) making fun of you, all that good shit.

- Soo many compliments and ‘I love yous’. He wants you to know that you’re his world goddamnit!

- He genuinely cannot wait you make you Mrs. Portman and will tell it to your face.

[haro-whumps]

Intermission VIII: The Highly Anticipated “Evan Masturbates”

Pr0n beneath cut.

CW: references to past noncon, slavery, internalized homophobia, fucky relationships

I’ll go ahead and tag people but just like, don’t read if this isn’t of your interests:  

 @bleeding-demon-teeth @theycomeinthrees @redwingedwhump @whimperwoods @inpainandsuffering @whole-and-apart-and-between @whump-whump-whump-it-up @whumpingupastorm @newandfiguringitout @lonesome--hunter @looptheloup @icannotweave  @deluxewhump @whumping-every-day @yeet-me-out-a-window @what-a-whumpy-world @burtlederp @swordkallya @finder-of-rings @fairybean101 @adventuresofacreesty @arlennil @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @lumpofwhump-deactivated20200826 @thatsthewhump @pinkdiamondprince @shameless-whumper  @whump-only @kiretto-laorentze @eatyourdamnpears @whumpzone @bluebadgerwhump @fanastywhump @jo-castle @muffindaddy @whumpsy-daisies @whumpcollector 

I can’t fucking get these three to tag so OH WELL I’ll try to dm y’all | @constellationwhump @infested-with-bloodv2 @b-d-able

Masterlist

When Evan was a kid, he and Julio had pulled on the ponytails of their fellow trainees and made pubescent comments about their hot motorcyclist trainer with tits out to here. He had, far more often than his better-behaved peers, indulged in the off-color shenanigans of fresh adolescents. 

Living with Mistress Bethany had been a different story, his teenage years spent in a mire of confused feelings and sensations that all collectively just left him angry. Then he’d turned 18, and was never in want of a sexual encounter. He’d had altogether too fucking many of them, actually. 

But Mistress was dead, now, and Evan felt… not safe. Safe wasn’t the right word. But not-unsafe-enough that his body decided he could feel horny again, for the first time since he was 14. Which was stupid. For the record, for all the records, this was dumb. Horny feelings were stupid idiot feelings and he hated them.

He flipped the lock on “his” room’s door. Master had been weird (as he always fucking was), insistent that Evan have access to a room that locked. Why? More mindgames. Master Galo had to want them to have locked doors for a reason, right? Was it a test? What would he do, if he caught them with the lock flipped? Probably the same thing that would happen if he caught Evan with his pants down. Which was probably nothing. This was stupid.

This was Master Galo’s fault anyway, Evan thought, as he settled his crutches to the side of “his” couch in “his” room. He was the one who’d been talking to them about sex and attraction. His speech-presentation was responsible for Evan’s stupid dumbass horny hindbrain. Fuck him. 

“Fuck him,” Evan whispered into the empty, locked room, shivering at the fact that he’d said it out loud. He grinned, leaned his head against the back of the futon. “Fuck Master Galo,” he said, scarcely any louder. 

He laughed, breathy and quiet, and laid down on his back.

It occurred to him that he’d never masturbated before. Well, okay, yeah, he knew that; he hadn’t been that brave during training and afterwards he’d been in the family bed or Mistress Bethany’s. But now he was face to face with his own inexperience, and considered just ditching the whole idea. Except he had “his own room” with a locked door so fuck that noise. He was doing this. Himself. Doing himself. Okay.

He glared at the ceiling, one arm dangling off the couch next to his equally-off-couch leg. He dropped a hand to his crotch and--oh. A tight, electric heat pulsed beneath his belly and his dick came right to attention.

“Stupid fucking presentation,” Evan muttered, unbuttoning his fly. “Stupid fucking, ah--attraction!” He shimmied his pands down and shoved his underwear far enough that he could get his dick out, his chub still half-flaccid but growing harder. He wasn’t doing this for anyone else’s enjoyment, so he didn’t bother undressing, or monitoring his expression, or arching his body uncomfortably for the sake of being “attractive.” When he wrapped a hand around his dick, his whole body tensed up, shooting pain flaring from his stab wound, and he grit his teeth and forced that leg to relax.

It felt better, like this. Maybe (well, probably) because he’d feared and hated Mistress Bethany and he hadn’t wanted it even a single time, but this time around he hardened quickly, hand stroking slowly, fingers dragging lightly against the texture of his own skin before closing into a fist and dragging back down. He felt his breathing go… weird, and observed that little wobble with interest, cataloguing his own reactions. It was also sorta uncomfortable. Fucking the old hag, he’d had lube. This was sorta, uh, frictiony? His hand felt good but he was pretty damn sure he couldn’t go until he came unless he got something wet on there.

Maybe he should’ve washed his hands, he thought as he lifted his hand from his dick to his face. He sniffed it, wrinkled his nose, but then thought “fuck it” and stuck his fingers in his mouth. This was weird, right? It felt weird if nothing else. He wiped the saliva on his dick, and had to try that again twice more before he got frustrated and called it good enough. The spit did help though. Not as much as lube would’ve, but he was working with what he had.

He reached his other hand down and cupped his balls, rubbing his thumb in short circles and giving himself a little squeeze. It felt good. He closed his eyes, tried to force the over-stiff muscles in his neck and jaw to relax, which involved leaving his mouth open to keep from grinding his teeth.

It was good, but different too, without another body. He couldn’t anchor his thoughts on just the sensation of his own touch. And also his thoughts kept drifting back to his actual sexual experience, which was decidedly unsexy. 

He was not unfamiliar with fantasizing about Nyla or Sasha. He’d actually done it as often as he could, whenever he got the chance to close his eyes and visualize someone other than his Mistress underneath him. But they were always under him before, and now he was the one on his back. Trying to picture Sasha on top, her soft hips and big tits and pretty hair, just didn’t quite work in his brain. Nyla was easier to imagine on top, but he wouldn’t make her put in that kind of effort and wouldn’t that be difficult for her and yes Nyla’s naked body was nice but now his thoughts were hung up on technicalities which also were not helping the stupid horny jerkoff he was trying to do.

His brain then promptly supplied that if it was positioning that he was so hung up on, Greyson had plenty of experience on top and was super easy to imagine. He pumped the fucking breaks on that one, even as his dick jumped in his hand at the mental image of Grey’s half-undressed body crouched over his own. No, no no no, Evan was not thinking about Greyson naked--or with his jacket off, sleeves rolled up, and buttons undone--while he jerked off. No. He had gotten over himself enough that he interacted normally with the girls the mornings after he thought about them but if he did this he would not be able to look Grey in the eye. Also he wasn’t gay.

Maybe god was real and punishing him for errant sexual behavior, because his next thought was of Lilah. Not on him, but perched mischievously on the back of the couch, looking down at him, fully clothed. She’d probably make some sort of rude remark about the size of his dick, or mock him for squirreling away to jerk off in the first place. Oh god, did he like that? No, he hated being insulted, it was humiliating and decidedly not arousing, whatever his dick had to say about that particular line of thought just right then. Also that was his baby sister for fuck’s sake! This was weird and uncomfortable and he didn’t fucking appreciate this, brain! God, why was jerking off such a fucking ordeal? He just wanted to wank!

The only other person in Evan’s life was Master Galo. It was very, very easy to picture Master Galo, shirtless, smiling gently down at Evan while he laid there on his back. He could pluck that image right from his hospital memories. Shit, what if instead of just sitting there and holding his hand, Master Galo had crawled up on the bed with him and nudged his legs apart and--

Evan wouldn’ve bitten his nose off is what! Why was he thinking about this!? He wasn’t gay! And he wasn’t, he wasn’t, fucking attracted to Master Galo! Fuck this, he should either just quit entirely and wait for his dick to deflate or think about one of the girls.

About ten seconds later he caught himself stroking his cock and thinking about how good Master Galo’s big, fucking warm hand would feel on him. Ugh, fuck this! He wasn’t doing this! He wasn’t thinking about his Master, who he hated on principle, while he jerked off! No! No no no! Bad brain! He grit his teeth (and when had he closed his mouth?) and resolved to just take his hand off his cock and wait until he was soft enough to tuck back into his pants. He wasn’t doing this.

But then he thought about his Master placing his hand on top of Evan’s and saying, in that specific fucking voice of his, “It’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed.” Evan grit his teeth somehow harder and whistled heavy breaths through them, muscles tense and left leg painful again. He didn’t want to do this; but so much more of him did.

“Master,” he breathed, forcing his jaw open once again, then immediately cursed his stupid horny weakness with a “Fuck!” He was doing this. Shit, he was doing this.

It didn’t mean anything! It was just a fantasy--besides, he’d come to an uglier owner than Master Galo and it wasn’t like he was attracted to her. It was fine. Just a fantasy. He wasn’t gay, he was just, he just, this was a one-time thing. And all fictional! None of this was real or mattered or meant anything.

He bet Master Galo would brush his bangs away from his forehead. His hand would feel so warm against Evan’s skin. Evan carefully moved his leg farther, opening as he imagined the massive bulk of his Master settling weight into the couch. Master Galo’s chest hair, his heavy arms, his stupid fucking charming goddamn smile, they were all so quick to conjure in his mind, and easy portrait of the man who’d knocked his life so far from its original course. Would kissing him feel soft?

Evan got another wave of weird discomfort, but shoved it aside. It wasn’t gay. And even if it was, Evan could easily imagine Master Galo bending down close to his ear and murmuring, “It’s okay, Evan, you’re doing good.”

Evan’s hand instinctively clenched around his cock, toes curling. His breathing picked up. Master Galo had stubble, how would that feel? Rough? Probably kinda scratchy against his face, and the thought of that, that it’d feel bristly against his face and neck--fuck, his dick twitched again in his hand, precum starting to leak out the tip. What if Master Galo kissed his neck? Fuck, would it tickle? Probably, but Evan also bet it’d feel so fucking good. He could slide a massive hand into Evan’s hair and pull his head to the side with it, kiss his neck and send those pleasantly sharp little stings down his scalp. Lean on that elbow and grab Evan’s dick in his other hand.

Evan thumbed around the tip, wide circles that forced him to consciously keep his mouth open, to keep from biting his lip or making some stupid whine. Master Galo was a methodical person, Evan could just as easily bed he’d have slow, practiced strokes up and down the length of his cock.

If Evan muttered “Please,” Master Galo would probably take care of him. Fuck him. Fuck him but fuck him. God, he’d be so heavy, too, immovable, he totally dwarfed Evan in size. He’d be so solid, but Evan’s fantasy didn’t involve feeling trapped, just held.

He could feel his thighs tighten again, and forced his left to stay slack. His breathing was coming shorter, and he felt his balls rise tight in against the underside of his dick. He turned his head against the soft fabric of the futon, imagined how it’d sting so nice if his hair was being tugged on. Then, with perfect clarity, Evan’s brain had the image of Master Galo press his lips close to Evan’s ear again and praise, “Good boy, Evan.”

He came, probably the hardest he ever had in his life. He lied there, panting, flushed, too hot, with his dick softening in his hand and his limbs loose and jelly-like.

“Oh, fuck that!” Evan growled, now that bloodflow had returned to the rest of his brain. That was stupid. He shoved off his sweaty shirt, pants, and underwear, hissing as the fabric burned too-fast against his wound. He was bleeding, but nothing pressing. “Fuck this, this was stupid, this was bullshit,” he muttered furiously as he snatched a vest up off the floor and used it to clean the cum off his hand and crotch. Just about the only good use the damn things had. He did, uh, turn it inside out, though. Didn’t need Greyson finding out about this.

“Fuck!” Evan pulled on clean, non-swampy underwear and pressed a tissue to the wound, which clotted over pretty quick. It had just been a minor aggravation. “Shit hell!”

Dressed again, Evan finger combed his hair and refastened his ponytail, stormily muttering every curse and swear word under his breath that he knew. Then he sat with an elbow on his knee and mouth in his hand, face flushed so hot he felt near-feverish. This was a mistake. He hated this. This was stupid, and dumb, and no one could ever know what he just thought about, and oh god how the fuck was he supposed to exist in the same room as his Master now?